Pull me closer now
Where you hold it all together
Seamless and bound

"Hold It All Together"
CHPTRS

The night of my first dosage of wolfsbane came far sooner than I would have liked. But as I had learned, the moon cycles never stopped, for anyone, for anything. No matter what happened, the moon continued to grow, peak, wane, disappear, grow, peak, wane, disappear.

I slipped out of the castle after my last class, dodging Hermione's questions about where I was going and disappearing among a crowd of fifth-year Ravenclaws, who were all much taller than me. I didn't slow down until I came to the bench Cedric and I had agreed upon, and from there, I sat and waited.

The plan was simple. This was step one. Every evening for the week leading up to the full moon, before sunset, Cedric would get the potion from Penny Haywood in front of the Hufflepuff common room and meet me outside on a bench far away from the castle grounds so I could take the potion where no one would see before heading to the Great Hall for dinner.

Step two came on the night of the full moon. Madam Pomfrey would accompany me to the edge of the Forbidden Forest as sunset began and give me the last dosage to take as soon as the sun set. Cedric had expressed concern for my safety in the forest, but Professor Dumbledore had assured them that as a sleepy wolf with my wits about me, I would be able to remain on the edge of the forest and sleep until sunrise without issue.

Step three came in the morning. Madam Pomfrey would meet me at Hagrid's hut at sunrise and escort me back to the castle, giving me a wideye potion to help me through the day.

The only people present in the meeting were Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, my brother, and myself, though I was informed that the three other Heads of Houses were aware of my, as Dumbledore had kindly called it, "condition."

"If you would like to tell other trusted friends, I would encourage it," Dumbledore had told me. "The two prior werewolves that came through this school would have had a much more difficult time without friends close by their sides who knew about the transformations. Perhaps Percy Weasley would be a good place to start, seeing as he is your prefect."

I had nodded, feeling somewhat ill at the thought of ever confessing my secret to anybody. "I will think about it, sir."

"Good," he had replied, his eyes locked on mine. It seemed for a second he tried to read my mind, but I receded inward into myself, the way I always did, and he looked away without further comment.

Cedric came along the path, a large goblet in hand.

"Hi there. How are you?" He sat next to me on the bench, carefully balancing the large goblet in his hands but glancing over at me once it was secure.

"I'm scared," I admitted. I glanced toward the sky for a second. "I think we only have to wait a couple more minutes."

He nodded sympathetically. "It's okay to be scared, Lucy. I'm here now, and I'm your brother. I'm not going anywhere. Do you want to talk about anything while we wait?"

I leaned back against the bench. "I can't think of anything in particular, other than that the sunset is pretty tonight. How about you?"

"It is pretty," he agreed. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. Have you thought any more about what I said last Saturday?"

"Well..." I sighed. "I have. But things have happened that are outside of my control so I haven't made a lot of progress."

"What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"

"To make a long story short, Hermione isn't talking to Harry or Ron anymore. I still study by myself in the stands. When Quidditch practice happens, I study on the stairwells. But only the ones with Gryffindor coverings, of course," I added in a teasing tone.

He smiled. "Of course." His face grew more serious. "I'm sorry to hear that, though. Are there other people you could talk to, while the three of them sort it out?"

I shrugged. "Not really. I don't have much in common with the other girls in our dorm. They prefer Witch Weekly to Seeker Weekly. Speaking of, have you finished the newest one yet? I heard they interviewed Ludo Bagman."

"I haven't finished it yet, but I'll give it to you tomorrow at breakfast. But in the meantime, why don't you try bonding with the other girls tonight? You'll be here for seven years, after all, and it can never hurt to have more friends. It sounds like Hermione could benefit from it, too, if you'd be more comfortable with her around."

"Okay, I can try. You'll still give me the magazine when you're done, though, right?"

He smiled. "Of course, of course. I know you love Quidditch more than anything."

"Yeah." I sighed and opened my hands. "Certainly more than what I'm about to do. I think it's time."

"Okay." Cedric gently placed the goblet containing the wolfsbane, the wretched yet blessed wolfsbane, in my hands. "You can do this. I'm right here."

I refused to look down at the potion, instead focusing on Cedric's eyes, such a distinct shade of grey. I had often wished as a young girl that I shared his grey eyes instead of his brown hair, but my eyes were more blue than they were grey.

I lifted the goblet to my lips and began to gulp it down. Everything within me resisted the potion. Though it tried to climb back up my throat, I only swallowed faster, not even stopping to breathe until I felt I would faint. I lowered the goblet slightly and shut my eyes, gasping and half-gagging.

"You're almost done," Cedric said softly. "You can do this. Breathe in through your nose. Yes, just like that. Only a couple swallows more."

I raised the goblet to my lips once more and finished the potion. My eyes watered as I lowered the goblet, and I wiped at my eyes with the sleeve of my robe when he took it from my hands.

"Good job, Lu, you did it." Cedric set the goblet on the ground and laid one of his hands on top of mine, lightly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles the way Mum always had. "How are you feeling?"

I hiccuped, then gagged again. "I hate that so much," I managed, wiping my eyes again.

"I know you do. It's over now. It's okay."

"Until tomorrow."

"But for today? It's over. Besides, I'm sure it'll get better as we go. You should get used to it."

At dinner, I took Cedric's suggestion and convinced Hermione to sit with Lavender and Parvati. The nausea I had felt after the potion was fading, so I eagerly dove into the meal.

"You might want some vegetables," Hermione suggested, looking slightly horrified by the contents of my plate. I looked down quickly and immediately saw what she meant. I had gone overboard on the meat... way overboard.

"You're right," I replied quickly, my face growing red. "I guess I'm hungry tonight."

Hermione smiled. "I understand. Just trying to make sure you're staying healthy. My parents are dentists, you know. Did you know that eating apples is good for cleaning your teeth?"

"Is it really?" Lavender asked. "I've been trying this new whitening-enchanted toothpaste that my sister invented, but it doesn't seem to be working. She probably messed up the charm again."

Hermione nodded. "Apples are full of nutrients too! Especially soluble fiber, so if you're going to eat all of that meat-" She reached for an apple and placed it firmly next to my plate. "-you'll be glad to have that."

I wasn't entirely sure what soluble fiber was, but I trusted Hermione.

The conversation shifted to the hair product advertisement they had seen on the Gryffindor notice board.

Lavender ran her fingers through her tightly-coiled curls. "Do you think it could really make my hair straight if I wanted it to be?"

"Why would you ever want that, Lavender?" Parvati asked. "Your curly hair is beautiful!"

"Easy for you to say," she moaned. "You don't have to try to take care of it! You just have to brush your hair and it looks shiny and perfect for an entire day!"

"At least you don't have Hermione's hair, though," Parvati replied, shooting her a wary look. "No offense, Hermione. It's just that I don't think there's enough Sleekeazy's Hair Potion in the world to make... that bushy lion's mane actually go flat."

"At least you all have thicker hair than me," I interjected, trying to remedy the situation as Hermione's face grew bright red. "Lavender, your curls are so bouncy and full it looks like your hair is alive, especially in the sun. Parvati, your ponytail is nearly as thick as my wrist! And Hermione, your hair frames your face perfectly. But mine?" I tugged on a braid for emphasis. "I mean, just look at mine! It's so thin! I wish I needed hair potion to control it, but my hair has never done a fun thing in its life! My hair might as well belong to an elderly witch who lives with her twenty-three kitten kneazles!"

The other girls were laughing at this point, even Hermione. I smiled. My self-deprecation often only had me as an audience, but now it was the star of the show and had dragged me into the spotlight along with it.

Lavender gasped, then squealed. "You know what we should do tonight?"

"What?" Parvati asked, because Hermione and I were too startled by the high-pitched squeal to speak. It seemed Parvati was already used to it --- or deaf to it, more likely.

"Gryffindor girls makeover night! I have plenty of cosmetics-"

"And I'm really good at hair!" Parvati exclaimed. "Let's do it! Are you two in?"

Lavender and Parvati turned to stare at us, their eyes gleaming. Hermione and I exchanged a grimace.

"I've never used makeup before," I said slowly.

"Me neither," Hermione echoed.

"It's settled, then! Gryffindor girls night!" Lavender said proudly. "Oh, this will be great!"

An hour later, copies of Witch Weekly were strewn all over our bedroom, which smelled intoxicatingly of flowers. Parvati was yanking on Hermione's hair next to me, mumbling to herself that the braiding charm always worked on her twin sister Padma's hair. Lavender's breath smelled strongly of her cinnamon gum as her brushes danced across my face.

I knew she wanted to ask about the scars. I knew everyone always wanted to ask about the scars. I had become skilled at blocking the stares from the corners of my vision, but I knew they were always there. But she didn't ask, so I didn't offer any explanation when she muttered that I needed more foundation than she originally expected.

"How do you know so much about this?" Hermione asked. "About make-up and hair and potions and charms, I mean?"

"Older sisters," Lavender answered, blowing a small bubble and popping it. "I've been their experimental person my whole life. It's fun to be the one giving the makeover for once!"

"And I," Parvati grunted, working the brush through another tough knot, "know so much about hair because my sister and I have so much of it."

"Do either of you have sisters?" Lavender asked.

"No," we replied.

"I have an older brother, but no sisters. My brother's name is Cedric. I've always wanted a sister. What are they like?" I asked.

"They don't like sharing," Lavender replied grumpily. "I had to charm all of this myself."

"But sisters also understand you more than brothers," Parvati said. "My brother has the emotional intelligence of a troll."

We all laughed. I was thankful that Cedric was better than that.

Lavender studied my face. "I think the foundation is done. Here, see for yourself, before I add eye shadow."

I held the mirror and nearly dropped it on my shock. My scars had disappeared entirely, except for the one across my nose, but even then, it was scarcely detectable. "Wow," I managed. "I look..."

"Not done yet!" she interrupted, yanking the mirror from my hands and grabbing the brushes from the air. "I always like doing eyes by hand, personally. The charms are too intricate otherwise."

I don't know what time it was when Hermione and I were done with our makeovers, but Parvati and Lavender had done what they set out to do. Hermione and I were nearly unrecognizable. Hermione's hair, no longer bushy, was neatly braided into a crown and curled. My hair was curled as well, and for the first time, it didn't seem thin. My scars were gone, and red and gold sparkles around my eyes, making my irises look startlingly blue. Hermione's eyes were rimmed with red and gold too, her brown eyes appearing amber.

We had smiled for their sakes, but when the two of us were alone in front of the bathroom mirror while the other two changed into pajamas, we scrubbed our faces until they were shiny and red and clean.

"Never again," Hermione whispered. "If I ever seem slightly inclined to do any of that ever again, please smack me."

"Alright," I said absently, studying my once again scarred face in the mirror. Jagged white lines of healing stretched from ear to ear and hairline to jawline. Some were small, others were not. Some were raised, others were not. I raised a hand to my cheek and traced one. I dropped it as soon as I realized what I was doing and sighed.

"You know, my mother always said that beauty comes from within," Hermione said. "Though she usually said that to make me feel better about my buck teeth, I can imagine she'd say the same about your face."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. It's the truth anyway."

Cedric had said it would get better as the week went on, but that didn't happen. Tuesday, the queasiness took longer to fade away. I only managed half a plate of food at dinner. Wednesday, I woke up with a raging headache. The queasiness never left, and I only managed a quarter of a plate of food at dinner.

"Do you want to come study with me in the library tonight?" Hermione asked. "I know you like studying by yourself, but I'd like to know more about flying before tomorrow!"

I shook my head slowly, pushing a carrot around my plate with my fork. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I'm just not feeling well at all."

"You should go to the Hospital Wing," she replied. "You seem a bit pale."

I shook my head again. "It's okay, I'd rather just go to bed."

I fully intended to do just that when Hermione and I went our separate ways after dinner, her off to the library and me off to our dormitory. But when I climbed through the portrait hole, I found Ron sitting by himself on the ground in front of the fireplace, staring at his chess set.

"Hi, Ron," I said, coming to sit across from him. "How are you?"

He blinked in surprise. "Hi, Lucy. You're talking to me?"

I nodded. "I don't have any reason not to, do I?"

"Hermione sure thinks you do," he muttered. "I thought she was going to murder me when I asked you for help in Herbology."

"Don't worry about it, I was happy to help. Why were you sitting by yourself?"

"Nobody to play with. Percy has to study. Fred and George and Harry all have Quidditch practice." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I heard you tell Hermione you weren't feeling well, so I'm guessing you don't want to play with me either."

"I can play a game," I said with a smile. "If you're ready to lose, that is."

"I don't lose," he replied, smirking. "All right, you're on."

He was right. He didn't lose. Not the first game, nor the second game, nor the third game. We were halfway through the fourth game when the Quidditch team poured through the portrait hole, whooping and laughing. When the twins and Harry saw what we were up to, they crowded around. Fred gave enthusiastic play-by-play commentary as George explained what was happening to Harry. I was about to lose yet again when another voice came from the portrait hole.

"Lucy?" I glanced up to see Hermione standing there, arms folded across her chest. "I thought you said you were... you..." She whirled on her heel and marched up the stairs, slamming our door with a bang.

"What's gotten into her?" George asked.

"Did she get a queen piece stuck somewhere it doesn't belong?"

"I hope not," my queen retorted. "Let's just finish this game!"

"I should go check on her," I said apologetically. "I said I couldn't study because I wasn't feeling well, but the game distracted me. Does someone want to finish for me?"

"I can," George volunteered, taking my place as I stood. "Feel better, and good luck."

"Thank you." I laughed. "You're going to need luck, too."

"Nah," he replied with a dismissive hand motion. "You set me up perfectly. I love beating my little brother at chess."

I laughed again and followed Hermione up to the dorm. The door was locked, so I drew my wand in frustration and muttered an "Alohomora" before entering.

"Hermione?" She didn't move her book an inch. Lavender and Parvati, however, turned to glare at me. I felt my face grow hot. My nausea came rushing back. "I... I'm sorry."

I snatched my pajamas from my bed and fled into the bathroom. I barely got to the toilet fast enough. I emptied the contents of my stomach into the bowl, and I knew that the tears streaming down my face weren't just due to the burn of bile in my throat. I knew, too, that the wolfsbane had already been absorbed by my body, so I didn't need to worry about it losing any of its effectiveness. But oh, how I hated vomiting.

I showered slowly, letting my tears mingle with the shower water --- again. By the time I returned to our dorm room, all of the lights were off and everybody was (at least pretending to be) asleep. I crawled into bed, feeling small and miserable. That night was astronomy night too, something I always enjoyed. But when I had to crawl out of bed a few minutes before midnight, having not slept a wink, and face Hermione again, it seemed I had never felt so defeated.

After the lesson was finally through, my roommates dropped off to sleep almost instantly back in our bedroom, but my stomach continued to churn angrily again no matter how I laid on the bed. Suddenly, my heart began to race, so I bolted to the bathroom and emptied the contents of my stomach into the first stall's toilet --- again.

I sat there a couple more minutes, trembling on the cold tile floor with my head in my hands. When no more came, I returned to bed and tried to get comfortable, but I couldn't. After twenty minutes of tossing and turning, I decided enough was enough. It was time to take advantage of my second-biggest secret: it was time to sleepwalk.

As the full moon drew nearer, I grew more and more restless when I was by all rights supposed to be sleeping like the rest of my family. The night would begin with tossing and turning. It would then progress to pacing back and forth in my room, as silently as possible so I didn't wake anyone up. From there, I would go downstairs and sprint up and down the main hallway, again as silently as possible. But most nights, the only thing that brought me any sort of peace was being outside, gazing at the stars and wondering what it would be like to fly among them in the chill night air.

So I had invented my oldest charade. On the rare occasion that my family caught me anywhere other than snugly in bed, I had learned to carry on whatever I was doing as if they weren't there, keeping my eyes open but unfocused and occasionally mumbling gibberish in response to something they said.

It was the only secret I kept from Cedric. My father loved to tell his colleagues about my late night escapades. My mother liked to tuck me into bed and pull the blankets to my chin after I allowed them to coax me back to bed. It was my favorite secret and my proudest secret. It was a link to sanity despite the monster within pushing me further and further to the edge with each passing night until the full moon.

And that night, with my stomach still queasy and my hands still shaking, I knew it was time to sleepwalk around Hogwarts.

It was a familiar dance. I bumped into the door frame lightly with my shoulder as I left in case anybody was awake and watching. My gait was an uneasy shuffle, and I swayed back and forth slightly with each step. I stumbled down the stairs to the deserted common room and eventually made it out of the portrait hole.

"What's the matter with you?" the Fat Lady asked. "It must be two in the morning!"

I rose slowly from the ground and stumbled down the staircase, letting my hand run over the railing.

"Hello? Girl!" she shouted after me.

"Looks like a sleepwalker!" another painting called, which drew a round of laughter. I halted awkwardly on the steps and swiveled my head from side to side.

"Ha. Ha, ha ha ha," I said, keeping my face perfectly straight and my eyes still wide open. "What's so funny about a muffin anyway?"

Another bout of laughter told me that they were convinced, so I continued down the stairs. Word traveled rapidly through the paintings; I heard whispers of "sleepwalking girl" spread from painting to painting as I made my way down the many, many stairs. After what felt like an eternity, I found myself outside, once again under the beautiful stars. I staggered forward and sat down clumsily on the ledge of the fountain.

Time slowed to a stop beneath that brilliant glittering sky, and for a while, the turmoil within slowed to a stop, too.

After quite a long time, I was calm enough to try to sleep. I stumbled and bumbled my way up the stairs back to the portrait hole.

"Password, sleepwalker?"

I froze. I hadn't thought about the password to get back in.

"Password?" I asked, trying to keep my face blank. "No, I've never met her."

A couple of portraits laughed, but the Fat Lady rolled her eyes. "It's not a person. It's a password."

"Rainbow?"

"No."

I furrowed my brow, as if thinking hard. I knew the real password of course, but would a real sleepwalker know it?

"Leprechaun?"

"No!"

"Oh." I sat down hard on the ground. "No more guesses."

The Fat Lady sighed. "I think I remember you leaving, so you can come in. You're too deeply asleep to be expected to know it anyway."

"I can come in through the window?"

Even the Fat Lady laughed this time. "Sure, kid, whatever floats your boat. Come on in."

I awkwardly climbed through the hole and shuffled back up to my dormitory. I collapsed onto my bed and managed a couple of hours of sleep before my Thursday began.

Madam Hooch began the class like no one else ever did: straight and to the point. "So none of you get any bright ideas based on rumors you've heard, this is what happened this morning. A couple of Ravenclaw students decided it would be funny to try to execute a Parkin's Pincer against an unsuspecting Hufflepuff student. All of them ended up in the Hospital Wing with various injuries. Therefore, from here on out, experienced and inexperienced flyers will learn at the same pace. Anybody caught trying to advance before everyone is ready will spend their detention polishing every broom you see before you for the rest of this year. Have I made myself clear?"

I nodded along with everyone else, but my heart sank. Flying class had just lost a significant deal of its luster for me.

Since Hermione was no longer speaking to me and Harry and Ron were already each other's partners, I found myself paired with Archie, the kind Slytherin boy from last week's lesson.

"Nothing to correct," he said matter-of-factly. "Your grip is perfect, your posture is perfect. It's like you were made to fly."

I managed a smile. "I hope you don't mistake me for arrogant, but I feel the same way."

"If arrogance can be justified with fact, is it truly arrogance?" he replied. "Is there anything you'd like to fix about my form? I was definitely not made to fly. Running laps is more of my idea of fun."

I studied his face to see if he was being sarcastic, but his eyes were completely serious. I snapped out of it and examined his form, offering the three main suggestions I had.

"Isn't this insulting?" came a voice from behind. None other than Draco Malfoy flew over to Archie. "We've been on brooms all our lives, now we're confined to the same snail's pace as the Mudbloods."

"That's not a very kind word, Draco," Archie snapped. "I recommend you choose another."

"Make me, half-blood," he sneered back. "Slytherin is for pure-bloods only."

"Whoa, stop," I said, flying in between them. I turned to Draco. "I want to fly as badly as you do, but we can't change, or break, the rules."

"Or can we?" He leaned closer. "The rules were designed for idiots who can't really fly, but us? We can."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not doing it, whatever you're thinking." I turned back to Archie, who was still fuming. "Which parent is magical?"

"My dad," he answered. "My mum is American, actually. I think the whole blood system is rubbish, and I'm going to tear it down one day. Just you wait."

"I'd like to see you try, half-blood," Draco chuckled, swinging back around to try to keep the conversation alive. "People like my father would never stand for it."

"People like your father won't have much of a say from their Azkaban cells, will they?" he replied coolly.

Draco's face darkened. "Shut up!"

"Make me."

Archie and Draco locked eyes, Draco's gaze fiery against Archie's cool and emotionless exterior. With a growl, Draco spun on his broom and returned to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Does that happen often?" I asked.

"That was the first time," Archie said with a shrug, "but mark my words, Lucy Diggory, that won't be the last."

Thursday night, I only managed to eat a couple of pieces of meat, the only thing I had the stomach to eat so close to the full moon. Friday night, I sleepwalked again all the way to the Quidditch Pitch, where I remained until nearly sunrise. I returned to the dorm just as Hermione was waking for her shower.

"Where were you?" she hissed. "Out losing Gryffindor points?"

I kept my face a careful blank. "The griffin lost the race?" I crawled back into bed and immediately starting breathing deeply.

"Oh," Hermione whispered. "She sleepwalks."

Saturday night, my hands were shaking so badly I couldn't lift the goblet to my lips myself. Cedric supported the base of it, tipping it slowly.

"I'm sorry," I whispered once every drop was gone. "I don't know why it's making me so sick."

"I'm sure it's just the additional stress of it being the first time here," he said reassuringly. "Do you maybe want to go to the Hospital Wing until the transformation?"

I shook my head. "I'll be fine."

I was wrong. Sunday night, I burned with fever. Cedric would have dragged me to the Hospital Wing himself if I hadn't pointed out that the Gryffindor common room was closer and promised to go right to bed instead of going to dinner. All night long, I watched dreams dance across my vision whether my eyes were open or closed. Hermione looking at me with concern in her eyes. Lavender tucking my sheets tight under my chin. Parvati whispering to me that she had a goblet of water by my bed if I needed it.

When Monday morning came, I managed to rise from my bed and change my robes. Parvati cast a braiding charm from across the room when Hermione wasn't looking. She was still angry. Her concern must have been imagined.

"You should go to the Hospital Wing," Cedric said the second he saw me in the Great Hall for breakfast. "You look as if you'll collapse."

I shook my head. "I'm fine."

But after lunch, I staggered to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey knew there was nothing she could do to save me from the storm coming that night, but she allowed me to stay there and rest anyway. When the time came, she guided me through the castle and to the edge of the forest, goblet of wolfsbane in hand.

"I'll be back for you first thing in the morning, dear," she said sweetly. "Drink your potion when the sun has set. Stay close to the edge of the forest. And oh, do be safe."

I accepted the goblet and nodded. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I'll see you in the morning."

Before I had to endure another second of her sympathetic gaze, I staggered into the forest, still feverish and jittery. I found a comfortably cool rock to lean against, and waited. When the time came, I downed the potion as fast as I could and curled up on the ground. I shut my eyes, and bit my lip to try to contain my howls of pain as the transformation began. It didn't work. The last conscious thing I heard that night was the echo of my own screams.