(A/N: I don't want to talk at the end, so instead I'll tell you now I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please leave your thoughts down below... you might have quite a lot to say.)

LUCY:

"You excited to be playing your brother in the morning, Cub?" George asked.

I groaned and tossed my Ancient Runes textbook onto the table. "Draco Malfoy is the biggest pansy I've ever met, which is ironic considering there's a girl named Pansy in his house. He asked me to take his notes today because he claimed his arm was hurting too badly to write. He's milking this for all it's worth. Watch, it'll be miraculously healed come Sunday."

"It'll be miraculously healed as soon as we flatten Hufflepuff," Fred chuckled. "Because we will flatten them, right, Harry?"

Harry glanced out the window just as a massive lightning bolt forked across the sky. "I can't help but think Cedric's size will help in this weather. He's less likely to be blown off course than me."

Angelina giggled nearby. Fred turned to her with one eyebrow raised. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing," she lied, glancing at Alicia and bursting into laughter. I felt my face growing red. It was definitely about my brother.

"Looks like you'll be carrying the team tomorrow goal-scoring-wise, Cub," George teased. "Your fellow Chasers will be too busy drooling over the new Hufflepuff captain to even think about the Quaffle."

Fred clapped his hand to his forehead. "Oh, so that's why they made a fifth-year captain! They're hoping everyone on the opposing team will swoon before the match!"

"Oh, shut up," I giggled, my face turning red. "This is so weird. How would you feel if everyone in the school was obsessed with Charlie?"

"Oh, they were," George said, "but he was a lot like your brother. He didn't have eyes for a single one."

I bit my lip. Cedric did have eyes for one girl, but I was (obviously) sworn to secrecy. "He didn't?" I asked instead, fighting to keep the focus on Charlie and off of Cedric.

"Not at all," Fred replied. "Charlie just likes dragons, his family, and a couple of close friends. Nothing more, nothing less. He's a simple man, and sure fun to be around."

I nodded thoughtfully. "I'll have to talk to him more next time he's at your house. I mean, I like dragons, too."

"Boom, instant friendship," George laughed. "That's pretty much all it takes."

"Hey, Lucy?" came a soft voice from behind me.

I turned around to see an uncharacteristically-shy Ginny. "Hi, Ginny, what's up?"

"Can I talk to you?" she asked, looking around. "If you're not busy?"

"Oh, of course," I replied, immediately jumping off the couch and swooping up my textbook. "I can't focus on homework anyway with my teammates all crushing on my brother. Gross."

She managed a small laugh. "Okay."

I followed her up to her dormitory, which was empty except for us. She flopped onto her bed with a frustrated sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked, perching myself on the corner of her bed.

She lifted her face off the bed and twisted her head to look at me out of the corner of her eye. She sighed again, this time with more resignation than irritation. "Well..." She pushed herself to a sitting position, playing with the corner of her quilt instead of meeting my eyes. "My parents said I should find a person to talk to instead of a diary. Which makes sense, considering... well, you know. And they thought you were a good person for that, and Percy agreed. Sorry if that's weird, I-"

I nodded. "No, it's okay. I understand. I'm happy to be that person for you." I sat up straighter and reached for my Ancient Runes textbook, holding up an imaginary quill and pretending to take notes. "So, what seems to be the trouble, Ginevra?"

She giggled. "Trust me, you don't want to take notes about this."

"No notes, then!" I declared, dramatically tossing the book aside. I rested my chin on my hands and leaned forward. "Just two listening ears."

"That's all I need," she said, her voice growing more serious. "Lucy, I..." She hesitated for a few seconds, biting her lower lip.

"You can just tell me whatever it is," I said, reaching forward to lay my hands on top of hers. "Honest. It's okay."

"I just feel like nobody likes me," she said rapidly, as if she were scared of chickening out if she said it any slower. "I feel like everybody is scared of me after what happened last year and I don't know how to make it better."

"Oh, Gin, come here." I pulled her into a hug, and she cried into my chest.

"I know I messed up, Lucy, but I thought-"

"You didn't mess up," I said firmly. "What happened last year isn't your fault. It's Voldemort's and no one else's. I'm just sorry you got caught up in it in the first place."

"That's what Mum always says," she cried, "but that doesn't change the fact that everybody thinks I'm... I'm..."

She burst into fresh sobs, and I stroked her hair gently. "Just let it out," I murmured. "I'm right here. It's okay."

"Colin Creevey has more friends than I do," she whimpered after a couple of minutes. "And Lucy, he's boring. He only wants to talk about pictures. He takes them all the time, and just talks about how he wants to develop them, and I thought maybe I was more interesting, but then yesterday everyone spent the day with him in the common room and I was by myself and no one noticed-"

"Ginny! You were by yourself all day?"

She sniffled and nodded. "I didn't want to look at his pictures, so I left, but nobody followed me. I would have found you, but I knew you were in Hogsmeade with everyone else-"

"Ginny, Harry and I stayed here. His form isn't signed, and my parents don't want me going to Hogsmeade until they catch Sirius Black."

"Really?"

I nodded. "Really. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I thought... well, rather, I didn't think you'd be alone. But I'll make it up to you. How about you and I head to the Quidditch Pitch on the next Hogsmeade day?"

"What about Harry?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

She managed a watery laugh. "I kept the diary a secret all last year, Lucy. Yes, I can keep a secret."

I leaned closer to her and lowered my voice to a whisper. "Then just between you and me, Harry wants to try to sneak to Hogsmeade next time. I'm too scared of getting caught to try, but he doesn't know that, so spending the day with you is the perfect cover story." I sat up and spoke in a normal voice again. "So what do you say? Want to hang out together on the Pitch next time everyone else goes to Hogsmeade?"

Ginny nodded, wiping her nose and hiccuping. "That would be fun."

"And in the meantime... well, I have an idea for how to find you some better friends starting tomorrow. Sound good?"

She nodded. "Yes, please."

I reached for a scrap of parchment on her bed and summoned a quill. I drew a rough sketch of the Quidditch Pitch and marked part of it with an X. "Here, you'll find my friends Archie and Cam, and a bunch of their Hufflepuff friends. If you tell them I sent you, I'm sure they'd love to watch the game with you."

"Are they your age?" she asked apprehensively.

I nodded.

"Wouldn't they not want to be seen with a younger kid like me?"

"Ginny, they'll love you. But I'm guessing you'd want some friends your own age, too?"

She nodded. "I don't like not having a partner in classes," she admitted softly.

"Your friends aren't limited to your house, Ginny. I mean, Archie and Cam are some of my favorite people, and they're in Slytherin! And they're best friends with the Hufflepuffs! And one of my roommates has a crush on a Ravenclaw! That's the beauty of Hogwarts, Gin, you can be friends with anyone if you want to be, even if they're not in your house. It sounds like the Gryffindors in your year aren't quite your speed, so it's okay to reach out and find people who are, whatever house they're in."

She took a deep breath. "I think I can do that."

"I know you can," I assured her. "You're Ginny Weasley, the sister of a curse breaker and a dragon tamer and a Head Boy and legendary pranksters and-"

"And Ron?"

I laughed. "And the best chess player in Hogwarts history," I finished. "C'mon, give him more credit."

She smiled. "Okay, okay. I will." She threw her arms around my neck. "Thank you, Lucy. I'll try all of those things."

"Good. Let me know how it goes, yeah?"

"I will," she said with a nod.

I pushed myself up from her bed. "If you're feeling better, I should probably try to get some sleep before the big match tomorrow."

The dormitory was flushed with a blue light, followed by a crack of thunder that made the window panes rattle.

Ginny laughed. "Good luck with that! What a storm!"

"What a storm," I agreed, taking the stairs two at a time to reach my dormitory. I showered quickly and jumped into bed, casting as many silencing charms as I could. I added a muffling charm to my own ears for good measure, and I was sound asleep in no time.

The thunderstorm seemed to set my entire team on edge, but I found it hard to be nervous. I was excited to redeem Quidditch for myself, after my first match as Chaser had been ruined by Lockhart blinding me and my second match had been cancelled because of Hermione being petrified. I headed down to breakfast with a definite spring in my step.

A flash of lightning illuminated the ceiling, and the subsequent boom of thunder made the whole team jump.

Oliver gulped uncertainly, looking around at all of us. "It's going to be a tough one," he said nervously.

Alicia shook her head. "Stop worrying, Oliver, we don't mind a bit of rain."

"You should eat, mate," George said, trying to nudge the basket of toast closer to Oliver's plate, but our captain shook his head. George and I exchanged a concerned look.

I shrugged. "We can't make him eat if he's not hungry."

Fred nudged Oliver. "Just a bit of rain, Wood. We've practiced in worse than this."

"Not since last year!" Oliver protested. Another thunderclap shook the Great Hall, and Oliver turned even paler. We ate the rest of the meal in silence, not wanting to upset our troubled captain even further.

I changed in my locker again and took a seat between Harry and George for Oliver's pre-match speech, but it never came. Every time he tried to talk, a strange squeak escaped his mouth instead. He looked at Harry. "Catch the Snitch as fast as you can." He looked at us Chasers. "Score as many goals as you can." He looked at the twins. "Keep the Bludgers away from everyone, they could kill us in this weather." He gulped. "Alright, let's go."

I fell into step next to Harry.

"Hey, try to stay on your broom this time," I teased him, trying to lighten the mood.

He grinned. "Try not to take another Bludger to the face."

I rolled my eyes. "Touché. Be careful, Harry."

"You too, Lu."

We stepped into the rain, which drenched us in a matter of seconds. Cedric smiled at Wood as he shook his hand, but Wood looked rather constipated and only nodded. I hazarded a glance at Angelina and Alicia, rolling my eyes again when I saw their starstruck expressions. I smiled at Cedric and flashed him a thumbs up.

"Good luck," I mouthed.

"You too," he replied with a cheerful grin.

We mounted our brooms, and with Madam Hooch's whistle, took off into the sky. I was the first to the Quaffle, but it slipped out of my gloved hands immediately and into the waiting arms of the Hufflepuff below me. I swore under my breath and chased after her, Angelina on my tail. A particularly rough gust of wind knocked her off course, sending the Quaffle flying again. I tried to lunge for it, but I was caught up in the same draft and forced suddenly upward. Another curse escaped my mouth as I fought for control, and I heard nearby laughter as Fred knocked a Bludger away from me.

"Hang in there, Cub!" he shouted over the rain, taking off again as the Bludger began to chase Alicia, who had caught the Quaffle and was heavy enough to sustain the battering wind.

I streaked after Alicia as she flew off toward Henry, trying to knock one of the Hufflepuff Chasers out of the way. But I was easily overpowered by the bigger Hufflepuff player, so I ducked beneath Alicia and held my hands out in front of me in case the Quaffle fell. I wasn't a moment too soon --- the Quaffle slipped from her hands and dropped into my arms. I held onto my broom with only my legs as I shot up toward the goal hoop, holding onto the ball for dear life. I lobbed it at Henry as hard as I could, but it slipped at the last second and flew three meters too far to the right. He knocked it out of the way easily, and I groaned as a Hufflepuff player caught it.

As the game continued, I tried to stay a level lower than everybody else, always ready to catch the Quaffle when it inevitably slipped or was knocked out of the hands of whoever was above me. I was far too small and lightweight to compete with the wind, and with the rain being too thick to even distinguish red robes from yellow robes, I was secretly terrified of accidentally throwing the Quaffle to Angelina or Alicia, only for it to be a Hufflepuff Chaser. But when the Quaffle dropped into my hands, I managed to score a goal nearly every time. I was still too fast on my Nimbus 2001 for anyone to compete, and all of my hours spent throwing a football over summer paid off --- my aim was impeccable as long as my fingers didn't slip.

I had just scored my seventh goal when a bolt of lightning illuminated the sky in a ghostly glow. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out, and we splashed down into the mud and crowded under an umbrella.

"What's the score?" Harry asked, wiping his rain-flecked glasses on his soaked robes.

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose."We're fifty points up, largely thanks to Lucy, but unless we get the Snitch soon, we'll be playing into the night."

"I've got no chance with these on!" Harry complained, waving his glasses around.

At that moment, Hermione burst into the center of our huddle, beaming. "Harry, give me your glasses, quick! I have an idea!"

He handed them to her without question.

She tapped his glasses with her wand. "Impervius!" She thrust Harry's glasses back into his hands. "There! They'll repel water!"

Oliver's smile matched Hermione's. "Brilliant! Okay, team, let's go for it!"

I kicked into the sky with renewed vigor, trying to ignore how heavy my drenched robes felt and how my entire body was numb with cold. The game was all that mattered.

I swerved around a Bludger and undercut the Hufflepuff Chaser above me, snatching the Quaffle from his grip and darting off toward Henry's goal hoops. I chucked the Quaffle as hard as I could, sending it flying through the top of the center hoop. A crash of thunder drowned out every other sound and left my ears ringing. I'd never played in conditions like this before. I prayed someone, anyone, caught the Snitch soon so I could go thaw out in the common room.

I rejoined the formation, watching as a Hufflepuff Chaser zigzagged up the field toward Oliver --- whether her jerky movements were intentional or wind-driven, I had no idea. I swooped down below her, waiting to catch the Quaffle if it fell, but everything around me seemed to suddenly move in slow motion. I thought for a second the wind had shifted and was pushing me back, but a hush had fallen over the stadium. The sky turned black, and cold washed over me.

"We need to get back to the hotel, baby girl."

I couldn't see the man's face, but the tension in his voice was palpable.

A young girl replied, not hearing the same strain I could detect. "Daddy, I'm five now. I'm not a baby anymore!"

"You'll always be my baby girl, Lucy. Let's just go back-"

A rustling sound whooshed in my ears, followed by a loud snarl.

"Lucy!" the man bellowed. "Lucy, no, not my Lucy! Get away from her!"

I heard the unmistakable sound of sharp teeth tearing into flesh, followed by a high-pitched scream of agony.

"Lucy! Daddy's coming! Hang on, baby girl! Lucy! Lucy! Lucy!"

I heard another feral snarl, followed by a whine of pain. I heard a scuffle nearby, the shouts growing fainter. Then, above the sound of fading chaos, a single whisper.

"Impossible."

With a crack and a flash of light, I was submerged once again into blackness.

"Lucy, please, wake up."

My brother's voice sounded far away. I couldn't bring myself to reply. The darkness, the coldness, kept my head underwater. I felt like I was drowning, but I didn't want to struggle. I didn't want anyone, not even Cedric, to see my turmoil. I tried to focus on the conversation swirling around me instead, not wanting to acknowledge everything that I had just heard.

Angelina. "Lucky the ground was so soft."

Alicia. "I thought they were dead for sure, Harry especially."

George. "But he didn't even break his glasses!"

Alicia. "That was the scariest thing I've ever seen."

Fred. "Harry! How are you feeling?"

I kept my eyes closed, not wanting the team to know I was awake.

Harry spoke next. "What happened?"

Fred. "You fell off. Must've been, what... fifty feet? More?"

Alicia. "We thought you'd died."

Harry. "But the match! What happened? Are we doing a replay?"

Cedric. "I'm so sorry, Harry, I didn't realize what had happened until I already caught the Snitch. I begged Oliver for a rematch, but he refused."

George. "But they won fair and square, even Wood admits it."

Harry. "Where is he?"

Fred. "Still in the showers. We think he's trying to drown himself. C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before."

George. "There had to be one time you didn't get it."

Fred. "It's not over yet. We lost by a hundred points."

George. "Right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin... no offense, Cedric-"

Fred. "Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points."

George. "But if they beat Ravenclaw-"

Fred. "No way, Ravenclaw is too good. No offense, Cedric. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff-"

George. "It all depends on the points, a margin of a hundred either way-"

Madam Pomfrey. "Alright, team, let Harry have some peace and quiet."

Fred. "We'll come and see you later, hopefully when Lucy's awake, too. Don't beat yourself up Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."

Harry. "Wait, what happened to Lucy? Did she..."

Cedric. "Fred and George were close enough to grab the back of her broom and get her to the ground before she fell."

Hermione. "Dumbledore was really angry. I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away. He was furious they'd come onto the grounds."

Ron. "Then he magicked you onto a stretcher, and walked up to school with you floating on it while Cedric carried Lucy. Everyone thought you were..."

Hermione, in a softer voice. "The team's gone, Lucy. You can open your eyes now."

I sighed softly and forced my eyes open, pushing myself up on an elbow. "How'd you...?"

She held up her hand and waggled her ring finger.

Cedric sat next to me on the bed and tucking a strand of wet hair behind my ear. "How much did you hear, Lu? How are you feeling?"

I looked down at the ring on my hand, not trusting myself to make eye contact with anyone without bursting into tears. "Just about everything, I reckon." I forced a smile and swatted Cedric's hand away, still not meeting his eyes. "You should go celebrate with your house, Captain Diggory. I'm alright."

"Are you sure? I'm more than happy to stay."

I nodded. I knew if anyone in this room would see how close I was to falling apart, it was Cedric. "I'm sure. Go have a party. You've earned it."

"Not really," he muttered, "but I'm sure the rest of the house is happy about the win, nonetheless."

I nodded. "A win is a win."

"I'll come back later," he promised, squeezing my hand as he rose to his feet.

I nodded again, rolling onto my back to stare at the ceiling. I heard the scrape of chairs on the ground as Ron and Hermione settled between my bed and Harry's. I twisted my ring around my finger, fighting to keep my expression blank.

I curled up onto my side, pulling the sheets around my shoulder. I managed a smile and met Harry's eyes. "I thought you promised to stay on your broom this time."

"Well, sorry," he retorted, managing a smile too. I could see he was just as shaken as I was, trying just as hard to act normal as I was. As soon as Ron and Hermione left, we'd need to talk. "I really did try, you know." His expression clouded slightly. "Wait... Ron, Hermione, what happened to my broom?"

The two of them exchanged a panicked glance.

"Er," Ron stammered.

Harry's face fell. "What?"

"Well... when you fell off, it got blown away," Hermione said.

"And...?"

"And it... it hit... oh, Harry, it hit the Whomping Willow."

"And...?"

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow. It... doesn't like being hit," Ron said slowly.

"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you and Lucy came around." Hermione grabbed a bag off of the ground and dumped the contents onto Harry's bed --- his beautiful broom was now no more than splinters.

He looked as if he'd been slapped across the face; I reckoned I'd have the same expression if something happened to my broom.

"I have an old Comet at home," I said after a couple of moments. "It would be better than using a school broom."

Harry nodded numbly, looking too grief-stricken to speak.

Hermione turned to me, twisting her ring nervously around her finger. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head, biting my lip to try to keep my emotions in check.

"Lucy, you can't hide from me," she pushed in a softer voice. "We're connected, remember?"

"I know," I replied around the lump in my throat.

"What happened?"

"I don't know." My voice was no more than a whisper. "I wish I could explain, but I have no idea what the hell..." I rolled onto my back and crossed my arms over my chest, blinking hard. "I just don't know, Hermione."

I knew she wanted to push me further, but Madam Pomfrey rescued me at that moment, handing chocolate to those of us who were bedridden and telling Ron and Hermione we'd be staying the rest of the weekend in the Hospital Wing so there was plenty of time to visit later. When Harry and I were alone and the chocolate disappeared, we exchanged a long look before saying anything.

"I'm guessing you heard more this time," Harry began slowly.

I nodded, swinging my legs over the side of my bed so I could face him.

He followed suit and sighed. "What did you hear?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Honest, I don't. What did you hear?"

"It was my mum, Lucy." His voice was small and shaky. "I... I hear my mum being killed by Voldemort every time I..."

I silently rose from my own bed and sat next to him on his. He cradled his head in his hands, and I hesitantly laid a hand on his shoulder.

"That's not even... there's more."

He sat up and turned to me. I let my hand drop. "What is it, Harry?"

"What do you think of the Grim?"

I gnawed on my lower lip. "I don't necessarily think it will actually kill you, but I can't completely brush it off the way Hermione does."

"I saw it just before the dementors came."

"You did?" I felt my chest tighten, images of the Forbidden Forest flashing in my mind's eye. "Where?"

"In the Quidditch Pitch. At the top of one of the towers."

My stomach dropped. That was where I so often spent my alone time. "Do you know which...?"

"A Gryffindor one, I think. Why?"

I struggled with myself, not sure what to tell him. But after he had been so honest with me... I reckoned I owed him some version of the truth. "I managed to sleepwalk the night of Halloween. I don't know how I dodged all of the prefects and professors in my sleep, but I woke up in the Forbidden Forest with a massive black dog in front of me. I ran as fast as I could and got back to the castle alright, but..." I shuddered. "Harry, I study at the top of a Gryffindor tower in the Pitch. What if it's after me? Or both of us?"

He absorbed my words in silence for a couple of seconds. To my surprise, a slight smile turned up the corners of his mouth. "You can't be mad at me for falling off my broom."

I laughed. "Because I didn't hold up my end of the bargain and went sleepwalking?"

He nodded. "We're even after all." Harry sighed. "I don't know what to think anymore, Lucy."

I echoed his sigh. "Me neither."

"At least we're in this together, right?"

"Of course. Until the end."

A couple of moments passed in silence. I heard Madam Pomfrey shuffling papers in her office, so I quickly retreated to my own bed and crawled under the covers. I glanced out the windows disapprovingly.

"I could have actually seen the sunset this time, but the universe had the audacity to make it cloudy today," I complained.

Harry chuckled. "You really like sunsets, huh?"

"I prefer sunrises," I said with a shrug, "but I see more sunsets."

"I mean, I would hope so. I know you don't sleep ever, but-"

"I do!" I protested.

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye knowingly.

"Sometimes," I relented.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

I smiled, trying to look innocent, but I gave up and sighed. "On a serious note, I uh... I think I want to sleep most of tomorrow away. Or, more likely, 'sleep' tomorrow away."

"Okay. Why?"

I pressed my fists to my eyes. "I'm serious, Harry, I... I don't have the slightest clue how to explain what I heard an hour ago. I don't want to have to face everyone until I... have a better idea of what to say."

"That's alright," he said reassuringly. "When you're ready to try, we can figure it out."

I felt my cheeks redden at the word "we." I managed a reluctant nod. "Okay."

He shifted on the bed, trying to get more comfortable. He rolled on his side to face me, and I rolled onto mine to face him. "I think I'm going to try to sleep. I don't really want to face anyone either, at least not tonight. You should sleep, too."

"I'll try," I said. "Night, Harry."

He set his glasses on the table separating our beds as his eyes sank shut. "Night, Lucy."

I really did try to sleep. But my mind wouldn't stop racing, spinning in circles, replaying the voices over and over and over again.

I quickly reasoned that I was hearing the night I was bitten. Harry heard his parents being murdered by Voldemort, so it made sense that I would hear the worst night of my life. That explained the snarling and the scuffling and the shredding of skin. But it didn't explain the voices...

I sat up ramrod straight. The first man had spoken with an American accent. And so had the little girl. Only the second man's voice, the one that whispered "Impossible," had been British.

I suddenly felt both burning hot and freezing cold as the confused clamoring in my head reached a climax.

I remained locked in that position --- hands gripping the sheets, my neck tense and straight, my eyes staring unseeing at the empty bed across the room --- for several minutes as my mind jumped from conclusion to conclusion, each as wild and unfeasible as the last. I might have still been frozen in place when morning came if Harry hadn't cried out.

I jumped up and grabbed his hand in mine, squeezing hard. "Harry!" I hissed. "Harry, wake up!"

His eyes fluttered open, flickering around the room in a panic before finding my face. He relaxed back into his pillow and pressed his free hand to his forehead. "Lucy..."

"I'm here," I said, loosening my iron grip on his hand but not letting go. "You're alright. It was just a dream."

"But it happened."

"Was it about your mum...?"

He nodded and slipped his hand free to grab his glasses. "Sorry to wake you up."

"I was already awake," I said with a shrug. "If I'd been asleep, it would have taken the Hogwarts Express blazing through here to wake me up."

I hoped he'd laugh, but he only looked concerned. "You couldn't sleep, could you?"

I suddenly became very interested in my hands. "No, I couldn't. It'll make sleeping through tomorrow easier, I guess."

He sank back against his pillows. "Maybe the nightmares don't come if you sleep during the day."

"Maybe," I replied softly. I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear to look at Harry. "Are you okay? Relatively, I mean?"

He nodded. "You?"

"Yeah." I stumbled back to my own bed and once again slid beneath the covers. I twisted my ring off of my finger and held it in my palm instead, tucking my hand under my pillow. "Easier to fake being asleep this way," I explained in a small voice when I saw Harry watching curiously. "She won't see that I'm not wearing it if I don't let her see my hand."

He nodded. "What are you feeling, Lu?"

I closed my eyes and sighed, taking inventory of my many emotions. "I'm scared," I admitted. "And confused. And maybe even a little melancholy, I guess, because I'm so scared and confused."

"That's a big word," Harry teased, yawning. "Not bad for someone who fell off her broom earlier today."

"Shut up, Harry," I muttered, smiling nonetheless as we both slowly drifted to sleep.

To my surprise, I was actually able to sleep most of Sunday away. I had nightmare after nightmare, of course, hearing the voices play over and over again as my mind tried and failed to match images to the sounds, but it was still better than trying to explain myself to anybody.

I considered skipping classes on Monday just to have one more day to compose my thoughts and try to puzzle out more of what happened, but I ultimately decided to go to class so I could talk to Professor Lupin. If anybody could help me, I reckoned, it would be him, the only other werewolf I'd ever known... even if he didn't know yet that I was a werewolf too.

As we all expected, Draco's arm had miraculously healed. He tried to rub me the wrong way in Ancient Runes, making snarky comments about Gryffindor's loss and imitating Harry's dramatic fall through the sky, but I didn't even acknowledge him.

"Cat got your tongue again?" he taunted.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, considering saying something, but I decided against it and continued taking notes as if he didn't exist.

I was nervous walking to DADA, wondering if talking to Professor Lupin was such a good idea. I sat on pins and needles throughout the lesson on hinkypunks, and was planning to chicken out and not say anything at all. But when the bell rang, Professor Lupin called, "Wait a moment, Harry, Lucy. I'd like a word."

Harry and I exchanged a look, shrugged in sync, and headed to the front of the room.

"I heard about the match, and I'm sorry about your broomstick, Harry. Is there any chance of fixing it?"

"No... the tree smashed it to bits."

Professor Lupin sighed. "They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance."

I felt as if a small shock had gone through my body. Of course! The Whomping Willow had been planted for Professor Lupin!

Harry shifted on his feet. "Did you hear about the dementors too?"

"Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time, furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds. I suppose they were the reason you two fell?"

Harry and I nodded. We exchanged a brief glance, and it seemed we had the same question. We turned back to Professor Lupin, asking "Why?" in perfect unison.

"It has nothing to do with weakness. The dementors affect you worse than the others, Harry, because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have. And Lucy... I suspect there are similar things in your past that aren't as, ah, well-broadcasted as Harry's." He gave us a long look and sighed. "Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself, soul-less and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Harry, and you too, Lucy, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."

Harry stared down at the professor's desk. "When they get near me... I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum." A moment of silence passed, none of us knowing what to say.

"Do you know why they came to the match, Professor?" I asked.

"They're getting hungry. Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up. I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All that excitement, emotions running high... it was their idea of a feast."

"Azkaban must be terrible," I said in a soft voice, thinking of Hagrid.

Professor Lupin nodded. "The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheery thought. Most of them go mad within weeks."

Harry looked up. "But Sirius Black escaped from them. He got away."

Professor Lupin nearly dropped his briefcase. I thought of the man in the forest, how he thought I was Professor Lupin. I watched a flicker of pain cross his face before he spoke again. "Yes. Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it possible, because dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long."

"You made that dementor on the train back off," Harry said.

"There are... certain defenses one can use. But there was only one dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist."

"What defenses? Can you teach me? Lucy, too, if she wants?"

"I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting dementors, Harry. Quite the contrary-"

"But if the dementors come to another Quidditch match, I need to be able to fight them."

Professor Lupin looked from Harry to me, then back to Harry. "Well, alright. I'll try and help. But it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill."

Harry visibly relaxed. "That's perfect. Thank you, Professor."

"Of course." Professor Lupin looked back to me. "You look like you have another question, Lucy. Perhaps just for me?"

I nodded, feeling my cheeks turning red. "Am I that obvious?"

Harry cracked a grin. "Sometimes. Meet you in the Great Hall?"

"Sounds good."

He left the room with his head held higher than it had been when we walked in. Part of me wanted to beg Harry to stay, to tell him everything, but I couldn't. So instead, I watched him leave, knowing I might never have the heart to tell him about my secret, and turned back to Professor Lupin.

"Professor, I... well, if I don't say this now, I know I never will. So... here goes nothing." I glanced down at my shoes briefly before meeting his eyes again. "I know you're a werewolf," I said quickly, "but it's okay. I am, too."

He blinked, clearly stunned, and lowered himself onto a chair, wordlessly summoning a chair for me, which I sank into. To my surprise, he laughed. "Well, Lucy, I can say I wasn't expecting you to say that."

I grinned sheepishly. "Like my American friends said, I figured it would be easiest just to rip the Band-Aid off."

He set his wand on his desk and studied me with renewed interest. "I would agree. Did you really have a question for me, or were you merely hoping to get this off your chest?"

"I'll admit I have a lot of questions," I said, "but one is more pressing than others." I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. "Professor, I think the memory I hear around dementors is the night I was bitten. And, well, I wanted to ask if that's even possible."

"It certainly is. You must remember it well."

I shook my head. "That's just the thing... I had never recalled anything from that night until the first time I was near a dementor on the train. I didn't even figure out that it was from that night until I heard more of the memory on Saturday. Professor, if that's what I'm hearing... why wouldn't it affect you as well?"

"I have had many years to come to terms with it all," he said slowly. "Had I encountered dementors at your age, I'm sure I would be reacting the same way you and Harry have been. Even then, you two have been remarkably resilient. Thirteen-year-old Remus Lupin would have run home with his tail tucked between his legs." He paused. "I was four years old when I was bitten. Fenrir Greyback climbed through my bedroom window and attacked me. My father got there in time to save my life, but the damage was done."

"I was five when I was bitten," I replied. "But I don't remember that night as clearly as you seem to."

"There could be many reasons for that. Everyone processes traumatic experiences differently." Professor Lupin sat up suddenly, looking rather like Hermione when she's just had an epiphany. "You know, Lucy, maybe your boggart changed because it wasn't sure how best to express your deepest fear."

"Oh!" I nodded thoughtfully. "It showed itself to me as a werewolf first, then as what I was capable of, then as my only link to the night I became a werewolf."

"My thoughts exactly."

I huffed a laugh. "Any chance you could teach me how to make it a full moon like yours? It's far simpler."

He smiled. "You'll be more prepared next time. Actually, Lucy, if you and Harry are going to be learning how to ward off dementors, you will want your boggart to be a dementor for now. I'd rather have you two face a boggart dementor than a real one."

I nodded. "I can do that. But looking back, the full moon seems like such an obvious thing to fear. I mean, it is what makes me, well, me."

Professor Lupin shook his head. "Don't let the full moon define you, Lucy. It took me a long time to learn, and I had a lot of help along the way, but the sooner you can separate yourself from the full moon, the better."

"Professor, did you tell your friends...?"

He chuckled. "I didn't tell them. But they were some of the cleverest and most devoted students in the entire school, so they figured it out."

"Hermione figured it out our first year," I muttered. "I'm glad she knows now, because she can cover for me when I need it and trying to keep a secret from her is nearly impossible. But when she first confronted me..." I laughed and shook my head. "I thought I was just going to die on the spot. I was so many levels of horrified. I wasn't planning on ever telling anybody."

"I know the feeling. Have you since changed your mind?"

I sighed. "Well... I'd still rather not tell anybody else. I trust Hermione to be able to help me keep my secret until graduation if need be."

"Ultimately, of course, it is your decision," Professor Lupin said slowly, "but one werewolf to another, I will say that the friends I told changed my life for the better. They were kinder and braver and more compassionate than I ever dared to hope. And I trust that you would be wise enough not to turn around and tell Draco Malfoy-"

I burst into a fit of giggles, shaking my head violently.

Professor Lupin smiled. "I know that if you were to tell certain other friends of yours, I'm sure you'd find that their love for you extends even to the part of yourself you hate most."

That sobered me up quickly. "You really think so?" I asked in a small voice.

He nodded. "You have good friends, Lucy, who would want to help. You might want to consider letting them."

The next day at lunch, Malachi dropped a note into my lap.

Please meet me in my office instead of attending Transfiguration today. I have cleared it with Professor McGonagall. The password is "Chocolate Frog."
   Professor Dumbledore

Suddenly, I was the furthest thing from hungry. I stroked Malachi's feathers, trying to talk my body out of going into fight-or-flight mode, but I trembled throughout the meal and couldn't even finish my soup.

"You seem jumpy," Harry commented as we left Potions. I had managed to avoid humiliating myself in class, but it was definitely some of my sloppiest work to date. My hands were too shaky to be as precise in my measurements as I always was. "What's wrong, other than the fact that we just had to go to Potions?"

"Nothing," I lied with a shake of my head. "Professor Dumbledore wants to meet with me. He said to go to his office instead of Transfiguration. I'll meet you in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

I ducked away before anybody could protest or ask any more questions, knees shaking so violently they knocked together. What did Professor Dumbledore know? And how on earth did he convince Professor McGonagall to let me miss class for this?

"Chocolate Frog," I said when I reached the entrance to his office, bouncing on the balls of my feet as the statue slowly swiveled.

I tried to calm my jitters as I made my way to the heart of the headmaster's office, but my heart fluttered like a trapped dragon in my chest. My throat was completely dry. I couldn't breathe.

Professor Dumbledore smiled kindly as I practically skidded around the corner in my hurry. I straightened up and fixed my tie, the sweat-soaked note clenched in my fist.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" I asked in the most casual voice I could muster.

"I did. Come on in, take a seat."

I perched myself awkwardly on the edge of the chair closest to his desk, feeling as if the anxiety would tear me apart from the inside out.

"I suppose I should begin my story at the beginning, Lucy," Dumbledore said, setting aside his quill and leaning forward in his chair. "Or at least, as close to the beginning as I can."

He cleared his throat and launched into his story.

"When I first heard that dementors would be stationed around the school this year, I appealed to the Ministry of Magic to see if they could offer me any better alternatives. As you have witnessed firsthand --- on too many occasions, might I add --- my appeal ultimately failed, and the dementors were brought here. You can imagine my disappointment with this development, as you know how dreadful the creatures are."

I nodded in agreement.

"I was about to apparate to Hogsmeade to get back to the school when I was stopped by one Paul Midgen. I do believe you know his daughter, Eloise?"

"We've met. She's in my Ancient Runes class, and in Herbology."

"Has she ever mentioned that her father works for the Obliviator Headquarters?"

I shook my head, my throat suddenly feeling even more dry as my mind struggled to comprehend what might be coming next.

"He is the head of that particular department, actually," he continued, "and he asked me to have a drink with him. He seemed rather distressed, so I agreed. Now, Lucy, I'm going to ask you to make a choice. The first of many you'll have to make starting today. Do you trust me?"

I nodded slowly. "Of course. You're the headmaster, after all. What is it?"

"Would you like me to tell you about our conversation, or would you like to see for yourself?"

I was taken aback. "See for myself?" I echoed.

"Follow me," he said, rising from his desk and approaching what I recognized to be a Pensieve.

"Oh," I said, exhaling in relief. "You meant a Pensieve."

"Ah, very good. You know what a Pensieve is?"

I nodded. "I've read about them before, but never actually seen or used one."

"But you are familiar with how they work?"

I nodded again. "I am. I-I think I'd like to see your conversation for myself, sir."

He smiled. "Very well. Here." He tapped his wand to his temple and drew out a clear, slimy substance. He tapped the surface of the Pensieve, and gestured for me to submerge my head. I complied, and I was instantly dropped into a noisy bar. Dumbledore sat at a table in the corner of the room with who I supposed was Paul Midgen, each holding a mug but neither one drinking.

"Since the appeal was unsuccessful and dementors will be guarding the school, there is something I must tell you, Albus. A warning I must pass along, if you will."

Eloise's dad looked just like her. Dumbledore was right, he did look distressed.

Dumbledore leaned forward. "A warning?"

Mr. Midgen nodded. He swallowed hard. "I made a decision nearly eight years ago that still haunts me to this day. I trust that you know Lucy Diggory?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Delightful girl. A diligent student with a kind heart, much like her brother, Cedric."

The other man shifted uncomfortably. "I'm afraid that my decision affects him, too, should Lucy choose to..."

Dumbledore waited patiently for the man to speak again. I understood that he must have been just as confused as I was.

Mr. Midgen took off his glasses and rubbed his nose. "My office sees something new every day. Someone's pet Kneazle escapes in the suburbs. A young wizard accidentally flies a broom too close to his Muggle neighbor's home. From time to time, we'll have a witch who asks us to remove her memories of a former lover, or an old wizard who wants to forget the pain of the war. But nothing could have prepared me for what I was asked to do that day.

"I had never known Amos Diggory all that well, seeing as we were a few year apart in school, but I trusted him. Being a Hufflepuff and all, I trusted that he had good intentions at the very least, so I agreed to hear him out when he arrived at my office early one morning with his wife waiting in the car. He explained as quickly as he could that he had been called to the Forest of Dean three nights prior to try to hunt down and detain Fenrir Greyback. He said that he was unsuccessful, but that he had come across a small girl who couldn't have been more than four or five years old who had been bitten.

"'A Muggle child would be dead,' he explained with a somewhat crazy look in his eyes, 'and whoever was with her at the time could very well be, if they were Muggles. I rescued her, and now I'm asking you to wipe her memories of her other family, as well as some of my son's, so we can raise her as our own.'

"I tried to fight back, but he convinced me in the end. He returned the next day with the children. Cedric was first. I carefully removed the memories of meeting Lucy for the first time, trusting that Amos had a plan for convincing him that Lucy had been there all along. But Lucy... Merlin, her face still haunts me. Even terrified, even being only five, as she told me when I asked, she was brave.

"I had made the decision overnight not to rewrite Lucy's story completely. I asked Amos to take Cedric somewhere for a couple of hours because the process would take a while considering I had to wipe so many things clean. This, of course, was a lie. Obliviation is instantaneous if done properly.

"Before I wiped her memories, I gathered many of them into small vials. I asked her about her happiest memories, her scariest memories, her saddest memories. I asked her about her mother, and her father, and her grandparents, and her brothers and sisters, and did my best to organize them, so that her story would always exist somewhere. She was so young, and her family..." He dragged his hand down his face. "For years, I saw her face on Missing posters in Muggle London, with the name underneath being Lucy Everlin, not Lucy Diggory. I had to live with the knowledge that I had... played a role in her disappearance. That I had been the one to come between her and her rightful family. Amos and Susan treat her well," he said quickly. "If I ever had the slightest inkling that they didn't, I would have given her all of her memories myself and personally seen to it that she found her biological family."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Why are you telling me this now, Paul?"

"The dementors," he answered, as if this should be obvious. "There are very few brings that render obliviation ineffective, but the trauma of the night she was attacked cannot be hidden from the dementors, though it may be hidden from her. I needed to know that Lucy would have someone to turn to, if she ever comes into contact with those foul, foul creatures. I considered telling Minerva," he said with half of a smile, "since Eloise tells me she's Lucy's Head of House. But I found you first, and I reckoned that the Headmaster was as good a person to tell as anybody."

Dumbledore nodded again. "Where are her memories now, Paul?"

"Safe in a vault in Gringotts under my name. If she'd like to see them, she need only write me a letter, and I will get them to her as quickly as possible with complete secrecy. I can't imagine Amos and Susan would be terribly pleased to hear of what I've done, but Lucy deserves the truth."

The memory began to fade, and I found myself in Dumbledore's office once more. I staggered away from the Pensieve and sat down heavily in a chair.

"Lucy Everlin," Professor McGonagall had called out on my first night at Hogwarts.

I had been so confident that it was a mistake at the time.

Yet all along, it was nothing but the truth.