In the Melancholy Moonlight - Chapter 256 - wheremyarmorends - Harry Potter (2024)

Chapter Text

LUCY:

I'd just finished up my letter to Cedric when I heard Hermione shout downstairs.

"Harry? Lucy? Ron, wake up! HARRY! LUCY!"

"WE'RE OKAY!" I shouted back, jumping up and darting from the bedroom. "We're up here, it's okay, we're both okay!"

"You're both gits!" Ron shouted.

I sighed. "Sorry!"

Harry got to his feet and joined me in the doorway, sighing as well. "Merlin, I hope they don't think we were up to anything scandalous."

"They won't once they see what you found," I replied as I gestured to the letter and photograph in his hand. "Come on, let's go downstairs."

I started to lead the way, but Harry's voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Lucy, come back up here, will you?"

I turned immediately and did so. "Yes?"

"R.A.B. I think I've found him."

Harry pointed to the only other door on the landing, directly at a sign reading Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black.

"Ron! Hermione! Harry found R.A.B.!" I called. "Come up here, quick!"

Two sets of pounding footsteps rushed up the stairs, and they joined us in front of the door at once.

"Sirius's brother?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

"He was a Death Eater, Sirius told me about him, he joined up when he was really young and then got cold feet and tried to leave," Harry explained, "so they killed him."

Hermione gasped. "That fits! If he was a Death Eater he had access to Voldemort, and if he became disenchanted, then he would have wanted to bring Voldemort down!"

"Wait, the locket," Ron said. "Do you think— ?"

Before he could even finish the question, I had grabbed my wand and unlocked the door and walked inside.

Unlike Sirius, Regulus seemed to be quite proud to be a Black. The family crest and motto was painted over his bed, and the walls were decorated with Slytherin banners.

Hermione hurried over to inspect a collage of newspaper clippings on the wall. "They're all about Voldemort. Regulus seems to have been a fan for a few years before he joined the Death Eaters."

Harry, on the other hand, gravitated toward a picture of the Slytherin Quidditch team he'd spotted on the wall. I turned to investigate a nearby trunk, but I was interrupted by the sound of Harry gasping.

"What is it?" I asked, going over to stand beside him.

He pointed wordlessly to a boy on the Slytherin Quidditch team who looked exactly like Tom Riddle.

"What?" I breathed as I yanked the photograph from his hand. "But— that's not possible, it can't be— "

"What's up?" Ron inquired.

Hermione looked up from the newspaper clippings. "Did someone find it?"

"No, but— " Harry started. "Looks like Voldemort played Quidditch."

"WHAT?" Ron and Hermione both burst out, rushing over to see the picture for themselves.

"It can't actually be him," I said, "but, well, I was with Harry in Dumbledore's lessons last year, I know what Tom Riddle looked like as a student, and that has to be— well, surely it's not him, we know what he looked like after he was a student too, and he didn't look like that, certainly not in the 70s, but— could he have had a son?"

"You really think Voldemortreproduced?" Ron asked, a slightly-incredulous grin on his face.

"This boy looks exactly like young Tom Riddle," I replied, plenty incredulous myself. "I mean— maybe it wasn't Tom himself who reproduced, maybe Tom has a long-lost relative who— I don't know. All I know is that that boy looks exactly like young Tom Riddle."

"Wait, wait, there was another..."

Harry rushed off without finishing my sentence, and the others followed him back into Sirius's room and over to the only wizarding photographs hanging on the wall. There was one of Remus, James, Sirius, and Peter all together, and another of Sirius in his Animagus form cuddling with Remus. Harry lifted that photograph like a hinge to reveal another one beneath it.

"I thought that boy looked familiar," Harry said, pointing to one of the figures in the photograph, "but I couldn't figure out why until just now."

Harry moved out of the way so I could take a closer look at the picture. I spotted a younger-looking Sirius in the picture as well, as well as two girls. I watched the Riddle-looking boy intently, though, as he stood with his back to the camera for a moment before turning around and catching the girl who tried to tackle him and lifting her over his head, both laughing hard.

"I don't blame you for not recognizing him, honestly, he's covered in mud and he looks so... happy," I said. "I don't know if Tom Riddle would have ever been capable of laughter, let alone laughter as pure as that, look at him. But— wait— why is he in a picture with Sirius, if he's really a Slytherin relative of Voldemort?"

"And who are those girls?" Hermione wondered aloud. "Neither looks like your mum, Harry."

I looked over at the picture of the four Marauders and lifted it to see if it was hiding a picture too, which it was.

"Alright, now what's my sister doing in this picture?" Ron asked, staring hard at the white horse standing with who I assumed were James, Sirius, and Peter in their Animagus forms. "Harry, mate, maybe this place just has creepy time-traveling magic that puts people in pictures where they don't belong."

I shook my head. "That's not Ginny. Ginny's not pure white, she's got black spots in the same formation as her freckles— well, at least as close as it can get to being the same formation as her freckles, given that human bodies and horse bodies are so different. Anyway, that's definitely not her, that horse is pure white, and it looks a little bigger and more muscular too. No, that has to be Cass, Remus told me she was a horse in her Animagus form. I'm guessing Cass is one of the girls in the other picture with the Riddle spawn."

"Riddle spawn," Ron repeated with a snort.

"Well, he must have had a name," I retorted, "but seeing as we don't know it and we don't even know if or how Tom Riddle ever reproduced— "

"Well, Lucy," Ron said, "when a man and a woman— "

I grinned even as I swatted him. "Oh, shut up."

"Why do you think Sirius had these pictures covered up?" Hermione asked. "You'd think he'd have the pictures of the Animagi— of which there were four, apparently— and of the— the Riddle spawn on top, seeing as they'd be least objectionable to his parents."

"Clearly he didn't care much about pleasing his parents," Harry commented, pointedly looking up at a Muggle poster of a girl and a boy showing more skin than they were hiding.

Hermione sighed. "Right, it's just— why cover these pictures at all? Why the secrecy? What are we missing?"

"I thought we knew so much about Remus and Sirius and Harry's parents, but— I'm realizing now that we don't know anything at all," I said with a sigh. "I mean, how could he not mention that the Riddle spawn was a school mate? Seems awfully relevant, don't you think?"

"It must not be," Hermione replied. "I— well— did Remus even know? We didn't know Tom Riddle was You-Know-Who our second year, when Harry found that diary of his, and two of the four of us grew up in wizarding families. If it wasn't common enough knowledge for either of you to know, or for someone to tell Harry, or for me to find in a book when I was doing all of that research, maybe Remus didn't know."

"Wouldn't he have looked like his old dad, though?" Ron asked. "Or brother or uncle or great-grandfather or whoever? Surely someone would have looked at this bloke and thought 'Hey, are you by chance related to the Dark Lord currently terrorizing the wizarding world?'"

"Tom looked less and less like that as time went on, as he made more Horcruxes," Harry said.

"Dumbledore must have known," I said quietly. "He knew Tom. He surely would have recognized the Riddle spawn as Riddle spawn even if somehow, impossibly, no one else did. Again, mentioning the Riddle spawn would have been awfully relevant, don't you think?"

"There are an awful lot of awfully relevant pieces of information Dumbledore never mentioned," Harry muttered darkly.

"I wonder what happened to him," Hermione said.

I looked back and forth between the two pictures. "I wonder if Cass is somehow the key to all of this."

"I've never even heard her name mentioned before. How do you know so much about her?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know much, not really," I said. "I only know she was an Animagus too because Remus said so, that day he visited me in May. I think I know why the pictures with her were covered, too. Remus said that after she died, Sirius never talked about her again. Maybe he came back here and covered those up. I don't know. I just... well, seems strange, doesn't it, that the Riddle spawn is present in pictures in the bedrooms of both Black brothers, even though he was, presumably, Riddle spawn? He must not have been that bad, for him to be friends with Sirius and at least acquaintances with Regulus."

"But he was Riddle spawn, presumably, and a Slytherin, definitely," Ron countered. "He couldn't possibly have been that good either."

"I wonder if he's the key to all of this," I said.

Harry sighed. "I wonder if we'll ever know. Anyway, I reckon we ought to get back to looking for the locket, but— I wonder. I wonder who the Riddle spawn actually was. I wonder what he has to do with all of this, if anything."

Who am I to say
What any of this means
I have been sleepwalking
Since I was fourteen

We returned to Regulus's bedroom and searched it thoroughly, but when none of us found the locket, we decided to head downstairs in search of something to eat.

"It could be somewhere else in the house, though! Whether he'd managed to destroy it or not, he'd want to keep it hidden from Voldemort, wouldn't he? Remember all those awful things we had to get rid of when we were here last time? That clock that shot bolts at everyone and those old robes that tried to strangle Ron, for example. Regulus might have put them there to protect the locket's hiding place, even though we didn't realize it at... at... at the time," Hermione finished in a horrified whisper.

"You've seen it, haven't you?" I asked, unnerved by the look on her face.

She nodded after a moment. "There was a locket in the cabinet in the drawing room. I'd nearly forgotten. We found it before you were here, Lucy, it was when you were still missing. Nobody could open it, so we... we tossed it into a sack of rubbish..."

"Kreacher nicked loads of things back from us, he had a whole stash of stuff in his cupboard in the kitchen, c'mon," Harry said suddenly.

We all sprinted down to the basem*nt kitchen and rushed over to Kreacher's cupboard, which Harry wrenched open. To our immense disappointment, though, it was empty, containing nothing but a tattered old book atop his nest of blankets.

"Kreacher!" Harry called.

With a loud crack, Kreacher appeared before us.

"Master," he said. Once he'd bowed low, he started muttering to himself, "Back in my Mistress's old house with the blood-traitor Weasley and the werewolf and the Mudblood — "

"I forbid you to call anyone 'blood traitor' or 'werewolf' or 'Mudblood,'" Harry snapped. "I've got a question for you, and I order you to answer it truthfully. Understand?"

"Yes, Master," Kreacher croaked.

"Two years ago, there was a big gold locket in the drawing room upstairs. We threw it out. Did you steal it back?"

"Yes," Kreacher said after a moment.

"Where is it now?" Harry asked.

Kreacher cringed. "Gone."

"Gone? What do you mean, it's gone?"

"Mundungus Fletcher. Mundungus Fletcher stole it all: Miss Bella's and Miss Cissy's pictures, my Mistress's gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and — and — and the locket, Master Regulus's locket, Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!"

Kreacher lunged for the poker by the fireplace, but Harry jumped and landed on top of him before he could reach it.

"Kreacher, I order you to stay still!" Harry shouted.

When Kreacher fell limp, Harry rose to his feet, leaving Kreacher lying flat on his back, crying.

"Harry, let him up!" Hermione said desperately.

"So he can beat himself up with the poker? I don't think so." Harry got onto his knees beside Kreacher. "Right, Kreacher, I want the truth: How do you know Mundungus Fletcher stole the locket?"

"Kreacher saw him! Kreacher saw him coming out of Kreacher's cupboard with his hands full of Kreacher's treasures. Kreacher told the sneak thief to stop, but Mundungus Fletcher laughed and ran!"

"You called the locket 'Master Regulus's.' Why? Where did it come from? What did Regulus have to do with it? Kreacher, sit up and tell me everything you know about that locket, and everything Regulus had to do with it," Harry said.

Kreacher got to a sitting position and wrapped his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth and back and forth as the story slowly started to take shape.

"Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress's heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper pride; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle-borns... and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve... and one day, a year after he had joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. And Master Regulus said... he said... he said that the Dark Lord required an elf, and Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honor, said Master Regulus, an honor for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do, and then to come home.So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave there was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great black lake..."

I glanced at Harry, who had gone pale. He kept his gaze locked on Kreacher, though, listening intently as he spoke.

"There was a boat. There was a basin full of potion on the island. The Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it. Kreacher drank, and as he drank, he saw terrible things... Kreacher's insides burned... Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed. He made Kreacher drink all the potion. He dropped a locket into the empty basin. He filled it with more potion. And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island.Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island's edge and he drank from the black lake... and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface..."

"How did you get away?" Harry whispered.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back."

Harry blinked. "I know — but how did you escape the Inferi?"

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back," Kreacher said again.

"I know, but — "

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it, Harry? He disapparated," Ron said.

"But... you couldn't apparate in and out of that cave, otherwise Dumbledore — "

Ron shook his head. "Elf magic isn't like wizard's magic. I mean, they can apparate and disapparate in and out of Hogwarts when we can't."

"Of course, Voldemort would have considered the ways of house-elves far beneath his notice, just like all the pure-bloods who treat them like animals," Hermione said angrily. "It would never have occurred to him that they might have magic that he didn't."

Kreacher nodded. "The house-elf’s highest law is his Master's bidding. Kreacher was told to come home, so Kreacher came home."

"Well, then, you did what you were told, didn't you? You didn't disobey orders at all!" Hermione said.

Kreacher shook his head, even more distressed.

"So what happened when you got back? What did Regulus say when you told him what had happened?" Harry asked.

"Master Regulus was very worried, very worried. Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then it was a little while later, Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell, and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord."

"And he made you drink the potion?" Harry spat.

"Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had, and he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets." Kreacher sobbed harder and harder as he talked. "And he ordered — Kreacher to leave — without him. And he told Kreacher — to go home — and never to tell my Mistress — what he had done — but to destroy — the first locket. And he drank — all the potion — and Kreacher swapped the lockets — and watched.. as Master Regulus... was dragged beneath the water... and..."

"Oh, Kreacher!" Hermione said, dropping to her knees and trying to hug Kreacher.

Kreacher jumped away. "The Mudblood touched Kreacher, he will not allow it, what would his Mistress say?"

"I told you not to call her that," Harry started to say, but Kreacher had already thrown himself onto the ground and started banging his head against the floor. "Kreacher, stop!"

Kreacher stilled, and Hermione choked out a sob.

"Oh, don't you see now how sick it is, the way they've got to obey?" she cried.

We all nodded and waited for Kreacher to collect himself before pressing on with the story.

"So you brought the locket home, and you tried to destroy it?" Harry asked.

"Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it. Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work. So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open. Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his Mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared, and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had forbidden him to tell any of the family what happened in the cave."

Harry shook his head. "I don't understand you, Kreacher. Voldemort tried to kill you, Regulus died to bring Voldemort down, but you were still happy to betray Sirius to Voldemort? You were happy to go to Narcissa and Bellatrix, and pass information to Voldemort through them?"

"Harry, Kreacher doesn't think like that. He's a slave; house-elves are used to bad, even brutal treatment; what Voldemort did to Kreacher wasn't that far out of the common way. What do wizard wars mean to an elf like Kreacher? He's loyal to people who are kind to him, and Mrs. Black must have been, and Regulus certainly was, so he served them willingly and parroted their beliefs," Hermione explained. "I know what you're going to say, that Regulus changed his mind... but he doesn't seem to have explained that to Kreacher, does he? And I think I know why. Kreacher and Regulus's family were all safer if they kept to the old pure-blood line. Regulus was trying to protect them all."

"Sirius — "

"Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Harry, and it's no good looking like that, you know it's true. Kreacher had been alone for a long time when Sirius came to live here, and he was probably starving for a bit of affection. I'm sure 'Miss Cissy' and 'Miss Bella' were perfectly lovely to Kreacher when he turned up, so he did them a favor and told them everything they wanted to know. I've said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did... and so did Sirius."

Now as I write my song
I retrace my steps
Honestly, it's easier
To let myself forget

"Family..." I repeated in a whisper. "Kreacher... was there anyone that you did tell? Someone other than family? Before us, I mean?"

Kreacher nodded. "Yes. She said she would come back when she figured out how to destroy it, but she died before she returned."

"Who was she?" I asked, suddenly excited. Maybe the girl was Cass, maybe the pieces would click into place.

"Miss Keira," Kreacher replied.

Harry looked at me. "Keira... why do I know that name?"

"Another friend of your parents," I said. "Remus talked about her on Christmas. She was the Slytherin who coated the inside of the Quidditch team's robes with bubotuber pus after their Beaters almost killed Cass in a match."

"How on earth do you remember that?" Harry asked.

I shrugged. "The bubotuber pus in clothing seemed like something worth keeping in my back pocket, just in case."

Hermione snickered. "It's brilliant. Anyway, Kreacher, what happened with this Miss Keira?"

"She arrived after Master Regulus died," Kreacher said. "She talked to Kreacher, she was very kind, she knew Master Regulus appreciated Kreacher. Kreacher told her everything he knew. Kreacher talked to Miss Keira about the locket, and Kreacher said he would keep it safe until she figured out how to destroy it. Then Mistress Black told Kreacher one day that Miss Keira was dead."

Silence fell then as we all tried, and failed, to make sense of the information we'd acquired. Knowing Keira had known about the locket, the real locket, didn't do us much good since she was dead. Once again, I'd learned a piece of information about that friend group only to end up more confused than ever.

"Kreacher, I am going to ask you to do something," Harry said after a long silent moment. "Kreacher, I want you, please, to go and find Mundungus Fletcher. We need to find out where the locket — where Master Regulus's locket is. It's really important. We want to finish the work Master Regulus started, we want to — er — ensure that he didn't die in vain."

"Find Mundungus Fletcher?" Kreacher repeated.

Harry nodded. "And bring him here, to Grimmauld Place. Do you think you could do that for us?"

Kreacher nodded and rose to his feet. Harry reached suddenly into the mokeskin pouch Hagrid had given him and pulled out the fake locket, holding it out to Kreacher.

"Kreacher, I'd, er, like you to have this. This belonged to Regulus and I'm sure he'd want you to have it as a token of gratitude for what you — "

Kreacher began sobbing anew as he clutched the locket to his chest.

"Overkill, mate," Ron muttered.

"Oh, shut up, it was a very sweet thing for Harry to do," I whispered back.

Ron sighed and massaged his forehead. "My ears disagree."

The two of us exchanged a small amused smile, then returned our attention to Kreacher, whom Harry was frantically trying to calm. I wanted nothing more than to help, but considering the fact that Hermione touching him had sent him into a spiral, I doubted he wanted the girl who was a Mudblood and a werewolf to try to comfort him. After quite a while, Kreacher was calm enough to rise to his feet and place the locket in his nest of blankets. We promised him we'd keep it safe, and he bowed to the room at large before disapparating.

"Well, this is good!" Hermione said. "We've found something productive to do!"

"Now what?" Ron asked.

"If Kreacher could escape that lake, full of inferi, I'm sure he'll be back with Dung in a matter of hours," Harry said.

Ron nodded. "Uh huh, and what exactly are we supposed to do until then?"

Silence fell as the four of us exchanged blank looks.

"Every answer we get only creates more questions," I whispered. I covered my face with my hands, rubbing my burning eyes. "I'm going to head back up to Regulus's bedroom and see if I can find anything at all about Horcruxes. If he figured out the Horcruxes, maybe— maybe he kept records of everything he learned. Maybe there's a book in his room with more information, something we don't already have."

"I'll go with you," Harry offered.

"I'll start looking through all of the Horcrux books we currently have," Hermione said. "Ron, do you want to help me?"

Ron nodded. "Of course. We'll give a shout when Kreacher comes back, and if we find anything. We should all eat first, though. We won't have any strokes of brilliance on empty stomachs."

"I'm not hungry," I lied. "You three see what you can find. I'll be upstairs."

"No, you'll be down here eating with the rest of us," Ron said, narrowing his eyes at me. "Food is important, you know."

I sighed. "Alright. Let's see what we can find."

Moldy bread. All we could find was moldy bread. We all choked down enough to fill our stomachs, though, then went our separate ways.

I stood on the threshold of Regulus's room and looked around at the mess, trying to figure out where to start.

Harry placed a hand on my shoulder and rested his head against mine. I leaned into the touch, letting my eyes sink shut for a moment.

"You look nice, you know," Harry whispered, kissing my temple.

I groaned. "Harry, is now really the time for compliments? We have a world to try to save."

"And you're going to look lovely doing it," he said.

"I'm just in pajamas," I protested. "I got a couple minutes of sleep at the most, I'm certain my hair is a mess— "

Harry interrupted me by ducking forward to kiss me. I kissed him back, but only for a moment.

He looked hurt and confused when I pulled away, so I offered him a small smile.

"You're going to look lovely saving the world, too," I said.

He smiled a bit. "Thanks. Alright, I can tell you're preoccupied, we can get to work now."

"Sorry," I whispered.

"Don't be," Harry said, walking into the room. "Where should we start?"

"Well, might as well try what already worked for Hermione," I said. I drew my wand. "Accio Horcrux books."

When nothing happened, I sighed and made my way over to the nearest bookshelf and started to peruse the titles. None jumped out as being particularly knowledgeable about dark magic, but I reached for one and handed another to Harry, hoping we'd find something helpful. We didn't though, not in those books, or in any of the others we tried. We wiled away for hours, finding nothing of value.

I sprawled with my back on the floor and pressed my fists over my eyes. "Merlin."

"Yeah," Harry said, sighing as he laid down next to me. "Well, this is a rather large house. We can search other books in other rooms."

"Right." I echoed his sigh. "I just can't shake the feeling that we're missing something. Which is ridiculous, because I know we are in fact missing many somethings, we have no idea what we're doing, but I feel like we're missing a crucial piece of information that would make all of this suddenly make perfect sense."

"I wish Dumbledore..."

Harry's sentence remained unfinished, the unspoken desires hanging heavy in the air. He wished Dumbledore had told him more, about everything. Horcruxes. Godric's Hollow. His sister. His parents. Whoever the Riddle-looking boy was.

"Yeah," I said. "Me too."

I shot to a sitting position suddenly. "Wait. Accio Regulus's diaries. Or journals."

Nothing happened. I collapsed back down beside Harry with a heavy sigh.

"Worth a shot," he said encouragingly.

"I just thought... well, maybe there would be a clue in his journals or diaries about Horcruxes, or about the Riddle spawn, or about Voldemort, or about... anything that could help us. I figured if even the mighty Tom Riddle wasn't above keeping a diary, Regulus might have done the same."

Harry snorted. "D'you think Voldemort actually kept a diary, or do you think he just used one for the Horcrux?"

"Oh, he certainly kept a diary," I said. "Where else would he have gotten the idea for the Horcrux? I'm sure every night in his dormitory he was sitting on his bed kicking his feet, 'Professor Slughorn said I was gifted in class today in front of everyone. It made me happy. I hope Dumbledore dies. His beard is ugly. I heard a rumor that Hagrid has an acromantula. I practiced my Unforgivable Curses for two hours. I think tomorrow I will pay a visit to the basilisk.I kicked three puppies today. I hope to kick four tomorrow.'"

Harry laughed, and I joined in after a second. It was ridiculous, all of it.

Still, I check my vital signs
Choked up, I realize
I've been less than half myself
For more than half my life

We got to our feet once we stopped laughing and made our way back down to the kitchen, where we found Ron and Hermione standing very close and staring down at the same book on the table.

"What're you two smiling about?" Ron asked suspiciously.

Hermione's head snapped up. "Did you find something?"

"No," I said with a sigh. "We were just laughing about Voldemort keeping a diary. One of the Horcruxes was a diary, so clearly diaries were important to him. We were joking about what he might have written."

"Wait, wait, wait." Ron grinned. "Assuming the Riddle spawn is actually somehow Riddle spawn, do you think Voldemort kept a diary about whoever the woman was?"

I made a writing motion in the air. "'Dear Evil Diary, I met the most wonderful woman today. She thinks Parseltongue is sexy. She finds my cold, dead eyes captivating.'"

"'I hope we can create Riddle spawn together,'" Ron added, writing in the air as well. "'Then my spawn can carry on my legacy of being a tremendous prick for generations to come.'"

Harry and I both laughed at that, but Hermione merely looked puzzled.

"It's funny, don't get me wrong," she said, "but You-Know-Who having a child doesn't really make sense, does it? He wouldn't think he needed a legacy. He wants immortality. Why would he feel the need to have a child, especially considering how paranoid he is about losing power? Wouldn't his own child theoretically pose the greatest threat, if he or she ever wanted to usurp him?"

"Well, I reckon he would have made sure they hated Muggles and Muggle-borns," Ron said.

Harry furrowed his brow. "He might have been afraid of his own child being more evil, though, somehow, and taking over. Remember in our second year when people were spreading rumors that Voldemort tried to kill me because he was afraid I'd become a more powerful dark wizard than him?"

"It seems so unlike him," I agreed. "That Riddle spawn can't actually be Riddle spawn. It seems so out-of-character for Tom to do something like that. He wants immortality, what need does he have for a legacy?"

Hermione sighed. "Who knows? Anyway, we didn't have any luck either. I hope Kreacher's doing better than we are."

But Kreacher didn't return that night, nor the next day. The four of us occupied ourselves again with searching through books, this time Harry working with Hermione in the kitchen and Ron working with me in what appeared to be someone's study. We once again found nothing pertaining to Horcruxes, though I did find a Black family portrait hiding behind the desk. Sirius and Regulus looked young, too young to have been in school at that point. I was struck by how lifeless Sirius and Regulus both appeared, pale and blank-faced. As the picture looped though, I watched as Sirius's hand twitched toward Regulus, and how Regulus adjusted his position ever so slightly so he was facing Sirius just a bit more. Though I knew their relationship had gotten inevitably complicated over time, there was something touching and devastating about the childhood sweetness of wanting to be closer with your brother, unaware of all that the future would do to tear the relationship apart.

We were just about to leave the study and head down for another dinner of moldy bread when I spotted an almost-invisible seam in one of the bookshelves across the room that we hadn't investigated yet.

"Wait, Ron, I see something," I said, hurrying over to it.

"See what?" Ron asked as he followed.

I stripped the books from the shelf to reveal that the seam behind the books was about the length of my forearm. I pointed. "There. See that? I thought it might just be a crack, but it's perfectly vertical, and about as long as a large book."

"I don't see anything," Ron said, "but I trust you."

"I need to figure out how to get inside it," I muttered, staring intently at it. "I don't know if this is an Unlocking Charm situation or an Exploding Charm situation."

"You think it opens?"

"I'm sure it does something. Maybe it slides open, since I don't see any hinge mechanisms that imply it's a door."

After about two minutes of trying spells, I finally used the right unlocking spell to get it open. I was right, the panel slid open, and a jet of light burst out of the dark hole that had suddenly opened up in the wall.

I tackled Ron out of the way, only narrowly dodging the blast myself. I watched, transfixed, as the jet of green light slowly turned into an orb that cast the entire room in a sickly viridescent glow.

Suddenly, a book appeared on top of one of the shelves, one that certainly had not been there just a couple seconds prior.

"Sorry, Ron," I said, prying myself off of him and drawing my wand. "Accio!"

The book did not come to me, though, so I summoned the nearest chair and clambered on top of it. I was still too short to reach the book, though, so I placed my foot on the closest shelf and climbed all the way up to the top. I had just touched the book when the door banged open.

I startled and toppled backward, groping for the book but failing to secure it. Before I could hit the ground, I hit something— someone— else first. Harry, I realized, as I landed on top of him and we crashed the rest of the way to the rug.

"Sorry!" I yelped.

"I tried to help," he replied, half-laughing, half-groaning.

"We heard— what is happening?" Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged. "Lucy found a secret compartment that set off that green glowing ball, and then that book suddenly appeared."

I rolled off of Harry and monkeyed my way up to the top of the bookshelf once again. I snatched it off the shelf that time, but as I jumped back down to the ground, black smoke streamed from the sides of the book and wrapped around my face like a blanket, choking me and obscuring my vision. My attempts to drop the book were futile, it was seared to my hands.

Finite! No, eripio vitaenon, I thought desperately. The smoke was filling my nose and mouth, burning me, so I couldn't speak, but I was reasonably sure that I knew the countercurse that would free me. Eripio vitaenon, eripio vitaenon, eripio vitaenon, eripio vitaenon!

By the fifth repetition, the smoke had thinned out enough I could try to speak again.

"Eripio vitaenon," I choked out. "Eripio vitaenon!"

Once the others heard the incantation, they jumped to my rescue, repeating the spell over and over again until the smoke had cleared and the book fell from my horribly-burned hands.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, gripping my shoulders.

I nodded quickly and knelt down on the ground to look at the book, not about to let a silly little curse distract me from the mission. When I wrenched it open, I discovered that a massive chunk of the pages had been torn out.

I groaned and fell sideways against Harry's legs, coughing hard to try to clear the smoke I'd inhaled.

Hermione dropped to her knees to examine the book for herself. "Regulus must have hidden his Horcrux research so that his family wouldn't know what exactly he was trying to do, if he really was trying to protect everyone from the potential aftermath of his betrayal of You-Know-Who. Maybe he ripped out the pages before he left and then hid the book."

"Maybe," I said, still coughing and gagging on the foul taste of the smoke.

Harry got to the ground beside me and wrapped his arms around me while Hermione and Ron stared at me wide-eyed.

Wake up
Fall in love again
Wage war on gravity
There's so much
Worth fighting for
You'll see

"I'm okay," I managed after another minute of coughing. I cleared my throat, but my voice was still hoarse. "Well, that was a thrilling discovery for a couple of seconds. Sorry for startling all of you, and for flattening two of you."

"Merlin, don't apologize," Harry breathed, releasing me from his shaking arms. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I have burn paste in my rucksack, so I'll be good as new in no time," I said as I gingerly flexed my hands.

"It was a good effort," Hermione said encouragingly.

"It was a good thing you knew that countercurse," Ron added, still standing in front of me, frozen in place with his wand in his hand. "What we were trying didn't do anything. That was scary."

The green light above our heads slowly dissipated, and with it, the book disappeared.

"Huh. That's cool. Any idea what spell that was?" Ron asked.

"Verdimillious," I said.

"We almost taught the D.A. that one," Harry explained. "It reveals objects hidden by dark magic, which is what I remembered half a second after Lucy touched the book. C'mon, Lu, let's go find that burn paste."

Harry got to his feet and hauled me up by my elbow instead of my hands. Sure enough, Harry was able to summon the burn paste from my rucksack, and the yellow paste he smeared over my palms offered instant relief.

"I thought burn paste was orange," Ron commented. "When your brother got burned in the first task, wasn't he all orange?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but that one has dittany, and I'm allergic to dittany. Since being burned is an occupational hazard working at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, we worked together to invent a dittany-free paste, which happens to be yellow."

"That's neat! How on earth did you manage that?" Hermione asked.

"We had help from Cedric's healing books," I said. "Since he knew I was allergic to dittany, he flagged any substances that could be potentially used as dittany substitutes. We kept experimenting until we found one that worked, and it happened to be yellow."

Harry kept gently massaging the paste into my hands. "Better?"

"Much. Thank you," I said. "Anyway, prior to that, Ron and I didn't find anything interesting. Did you two come up with something useful?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Maybe the four of us ought to stick together from now on, just in case something like that happens. If we hadn't all been there..."

"Ron would have helped me out," I asserted, noting the hurt look on his face.

"Oh, of course," Hermione said quickly, "it's just, well, with all four of us casting the countercurse it still— the smoke was still clinging to you for quite a long time— "

"Yeah," Ron cut in. "Anyway, Mione's right. We can all search that study tomorrow, there were more bookshelves we didn't check."

"We can practice that spell ourselves too," I suggested.

Hermione nodded. "It could come in handy. I'm sure there are plenty of objects in this house that have been hidden by dark magic that we didn't find two summers ago!"

"No need to sound so thrilled about it," Harry mumbled. "Lucy could have died."

"But I didn't," I said, lightly tapping the tip of his nose with my yellow-coated index finger.

Another domino falls
Either way

"Let's call it a night. We can crack on tomorrow," Ron said.

The rest of us agreed emphatically, and we even managed to find an old stash of sweets for dinner that night. It was all expired, but even thirty-year-old Chocolate Frogs seemed like a delicacy compared to the moldy bread we'd been eating. When we settled down to sleep that night, I had a persistent tickle in my throat that refused to let me sleep. I'd erected a silencing spell so I didn't wake the others— we'd moved four twin beds into one of the bedrooms so we could all still sleep together without having to be on the drawing room floor— but I couldn't stop coughing, so I left the bedroom, after I left a note on my pillow saying I was okay and just in the kitchen, and busied myself with the ancient runes book Dumbledore had given me so many years ago, since it somehow apparently contained information about Horcruxes. I'd hoped that the Noble House of Black would have information about magic dark enough that I'd be able to rely on books other than that one, but alas, I found myself at the kitchen table of 12 Grimmauld Place at two in the morning with a sheet of parchment, a quill, and an ancient book full of ancient runes that I set to work translating one by one.

As far as I could tell, the book was solely about the founders of Hogwarts. The section I'd translated years ago was all about Godric Gryffindor. His values, his famous sword, his excellent dueling skills, his friendship with Salazar Slytherin and how it soured, and his hat that became the Sorting Hat. I'd stopped translating part of the way through the chapter about Helga Hufflepuff, once I'd found out about the Room of Requirement. I'd always assumed that was why I was meant to have the book, beyond just the ancient runes translation services I was able to offer in our quest to protect the Stone, though I was never sure why Dumbledore hadn't just told me himself about the Room of Requirement if he'd known about it. I returned to that chapter then and searched for mention of the cup that Dumbledore had theorized Voldemort had turned into a Horcrux. Sure enough, I found the first mention of it, and I had just started piecing the paragraph together when I heard someone on the stairs behind me.

"Morning, Mione," I said without turning around.

"Good morning," she replied. "Did you sleep at all?"

I shook my head, coughing as I did so. "Couldn't sleep. Coughing too much. Don't tell the boys."

"I won't have to tell the boys. They've both expressed concern about how tired you've looked. I reckon they're going to be especially concerned today."

I sighed, which triggered another coughing fit.

Hermione offered me a sympathetic look as she sat down across from me. "Any luck with that book that's supposedly about Horcruxes?"

"No, though I did find mention of one of the objects Dumbledore thinks might have been turned into a Horcrux," I said. "Maybe that's somehow why this book was among the Horcrux books you summoned?"

"I... maybe?" Hermione cradled her head in her hands, anxiously gripping her hair as she stared at my book. "It's just— my magic isn't like yours. I've learned I have to be very precise in order to get it to do what I want it to do. I think perhaps you could have summoned that book if that was the case, since yours is more intuitive and emotion-driven, but mine? I don't know. I think I summoned any book with the word 'Horcrux' in it anywhere. That was my intent, anyway."

I nodded slowly. "Well, I'll keep looking for the word 'Horcrux.' Or, well, any runes I don't recognize, I guess."

"Right. Professor Babbling never did teach us that word," Hermione said with a rueful grin.

"I don't suppose you happened to summon an Ancient Runes dictionary when you cast the spell?"

"I'm afraid not. I suppose we'll just have to use context clues if you find an unfamiliar rune. Do you want help? We could translate twice as fast if we each take a page."

I nodded, so Hermione came to sit next to me, and we set to work again. We were still working when Ron stumbled downstairs an unknown amount of time later, followed by Harry.

Since Hermione and I were making good progress on translating the book, Harry and Ron decided they would practice spells. Verdimillious first, then basic shield spells, then the talking patronuses, then the protective enchantments Hermione had started to teach Ron but I hadn't gotten to start teaching Harry yet. As soon as they left, I set up a silencing spell around myself so I could cough without disturbing anyone, but Hermione got annoyed with me and kept cutting through it so she could listen to make sure I got better and not worse. I got tired of the translations before Hermione did, so I joined the boys in the drawing room while Hermione returned to the bedroom for her book from Dumbledore before joining us.

"Hi there," I said, voice still a bit hoarse. "How's it going?"

Ron pointed at me. "Oh no! An intruder! Harry! Protect us!"

I whipped out my wand, and half a second later, their wands soared across the room into my hand.

"I'm glad your encounter yesterday didn't interfere with your magic at all," Ron said, wide-eyed.

I merely smiled and tossed their wands back to them.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked.

"I'm alright, I'm alright," I replied. "You don't need to worry about me. The ancient runes were starting to swim in my vision, though, so Hermione's going to tackle the Beedle the Bard book. I thought casting spells with you two would be more fun, though, so here I am."

Harry narrowed his eyes at me. "No, you didn't sleep and you still look and sound sick. You can supervise from the sofa, if you want to hang out with us."

"Harry, sleep and health are luxuries that could be hard to come by," I argued. "Would you still want me sitting on the sofa if someone attacked us right now? I should practice fighting in these conditions, just in case something happens when I'm feeling this way."

"If someone attacks us right now, I want you to get off the sofa," Harry replied. "Until then, I think we'd all feel better if you were resting so that you had more of your strength if someone were to attack us. Besides, Merlin knows you've accomplished plenty of impressive feats in the aftermath of full moons. If you can do those then, I'm sure you could do it again right now if necessary."

Ron nodded. "Harry's right. Rest, Lucy."

"They're right!" Hermione said as she walked into the room.

I sighed, exhaling carefully so I didn't trigger another coughing fit. Rather than heading to the sofa, I went to peek out the window, then froze.

"Oh no."

"What's wrong?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione asked in unison.

I waved the other three over, and we crowded around the window.

Two cloaked men were standing in the square, looking at the house they could not see.

Ron sighed. "Death Eaters, for sure. Reckon they know we're in here?"

"I don't think so, or they'd have sent Snape in after us, wouldn't they?" Hermione asked.

"D'you reckon he's been in here and had his tongue tied by Moody's curse?"

"Yes, otherwise he'd have been able to tell that lot how to get in, wouldn't he? But they're probably watching to see whether we turn up. They know that Harry owns the house, after all, since wizarding wills are examined by the Ministry. They'll know Sirius left him the place."

"Great." I turned away from the window and draped myself across a sofa. "Well, staring won't accomplish anything, but practicing spells and decoding the storybook might."

The others retreated from the window, letting the curtains fall shut. Harry and Ron returned to the cetner of the room, both twirling their wands as they assumed a dueling stance. Hermione settled on the sofa next to me, and I rested my head in her lap so I could read along with her.

"Are you familiar with these stories, Lucy?" Hermione asked.

I shook my head. "Not particularly. My parents weren't really the bedtime-stories type. Not for me, anyway. I'm sure I overheard my parents reading a couple of Beedle's stories to Ced, but if someone read something to me as a child, it was Cedric reading me a Quidditch magazine after a rough full moon."

"They read to Cedric, but not to you?" Ron asked, frowning as he lowered his wand to face me.

"Well, Cedric had mostly outgrown bedtime stories by the time I..." I noticed Harry looking at me wide-eyed and stopped. By the time I came along. I coughed several times, then continued, "I don't remember much of my childhood before I was bitten. If they read me bedtime stories before that, I, er, have certainly forgotten the stories."

A long silence met the end of my sentence.

"All this to say, I'm interested in what stories could be in the book," I said with what I hoped was a smile.

"Your parents really were awful to you, weren't they?" Hermione asked. "I know you've never really talked about your home life, but..."

I shrugged. "Doesn't much matter now, does it? They're dead, and talking about it won't change anything."

Nobody seemed to have anything to say to that, so Hermione cracked open the book, and Harry and Ron alternated between being the shield spell person and the "throw objects at the shield spell person" person. I read along with Hermione, periodically using my wand to shoot a jet of water into my mouth whenever I felt like coughing.

And thus we wiled away the afternoon and evening. I fell asleep rather easily that night, my coughing finally eased, and I knew nothing else for a long time.

When I next opened my eyes, it was because I'd heard Harry shout. Then Walburga's portrait began screaming, and I catapulted out of bed and sprinted in the direction of the sound.

I'd just reached Hermione and Ron, who were standing at the top of the stairs looking down at Harry, who was halfway down the stairs and had his wand raised and pointed at the entrance, when I heard a voice I hadn't heard since the wedding.

"I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag."

Harry relented, lowering his wand. "Oh, alright, but I had to check, didn't I?"

"Speaking as your ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, I quite agree that you had to check. Ron, Hermione, you shouldn't be quite so quick to lower your defenses." Remus stepped forward into the light, smiling despite his clear exhaustion. "Lucy, what took you so long?"

"Sleeping," I mumbled, wiping the sleep out of my eyes with the back of my hand.

"No sign of Severus, then?" Remus asked.

Harry shook his head. "No. What's going on? Is everyone okay?"

"Yes, but we're all being watched.There are a couple of Death Eaters in the square outside — "

"We know— "

"I had to apparate very precisely onto the top step outside the front door to be sure that they would not see me. They can't know you're in here or I'm sure they'd have more people out there; they're staking out everywhere that's got any connection with you, Harry. Let's head to the kitchen, there's a lot to tell you, and I want to know what happened after you left the Burrow. And I want to know why Lucy appears to be in pajamas at six in theevening, are you alright?"

"What?" I burst out, whirling on Hermione as we started walking. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Oi, don't start on her, we all agreed you needed the sleep," Ron said.

"Does the countercurse 'eripio vitaenon' mean anything to you, Remus?" Harry asked.

"Er— yes." Remus paled. "You— what happened?"

"Bit of an incident with a cursed book," I replied with a shrug. "I'm alright. So what brings you here, Remus?"

Remus seemed lost in thought for a long second, but he seemed to snap out of it once we reached the kitchen. "I'd have been here three days ago, but I needed to shake off the Death Eater tailing me."

I hastily started clearing the books on the table and shoving everything into my rucksack, Hermione doing the same. I knew Remus would have ordinarily found it odd, but he looked even more tired than I'd been looking the past couple of days, so he merely extracted butterbeers from his traveling cloak and set them on the empty table with a sigh.

"So, you came straight here after the wedding?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, only after we ran into a couple of Death Eaters in a café on Tottenham Court Road."

"What?" Remus asked, horrified.

"I know." I dropped into the seat next to Harry. "I suppose we should start at the beginning. Hermione apparated the four of us to Tottenham Court Road, and we found a quiet alley so Ron could change out of his robes and Harry could hide under his invisibility cloak. Like Harry said, we found acafé, and we'd been in there for no more than a minute or two when Dolohov and Rowle walked in. I managed to Stun them before they could hit us, then Hermione wiped their memories and we headed here. We got past Alastor's enchantments the same way you did, and we've been here ever since."

"But how did they find you so quickly?" Remus pressed. "It's impossible to track anyone who apparates, unless you grab hold of them as they disappear!"

Harry nodded. "And it doesn't seem likely they were just strolling down Tottenham Court Road at the time, does it?"

"We wondered whether Harry could still have the Trace on him?" Hermione said.

Remus shook his head. "Impossible. Apart from anything else, they'd know for sure Harry was here if he still had the Trace on him, wouldn't they? But I can't see how they could have tracked you to Tottenham Court Road, that's worrying, really worrying."

"Tell us what happened after we left," Harry said. "We haven't heard a thing since Ron's dad told us their family was safe."

"Well, Kingsley saved us. Thanks to his warning most of the wedding guests were able to disapparate before they arrived."

"Were they Death Eaters or Ministry people?" Hermione inquired.

"A mixture; but to all intents and purposes they're the same thing now. There were about a dozen of them, but they didn't know you were there, Harry. Arthur heard a rumor that they tried to torture your whereabouts out of Scrimgeour before they killed him; if it's true, he didn't give you away. The Death Eaters searched the Burrow from top to bottom. They found the ghoul, but didn't want to get too close — and then they interrogated those of us who remained for hours. They were trying to get information on you, Harry, but of course nobody apart from the Order knew that you had been there. At the same time that they were smashing up the wedding, more Death Eaters were forcing their way into every Order-connected house in the country. No deaths, but they were rough. They burned down Dedalus Diggle's house, but as you know he wasn't there, and they used the Cruciatus Curse on Tonks's family. Again, trying to find out where you went after you visited them. They're alright — shaken, obviously, but otherwise okay."

Harry blinked. "The Death Eaters got through all those protective charms?"

"What you've got to realize, Harry, is that the Death Eaters have got the full might of the Ministry on their side now. They've got the power to perform brutal spells without fear ofidentification or arrest. They managed to penetrate every defensive spell we'd cast against them, and once inside, they were completely open about why they'd come."

Hermione huffed. "And are they bothering to give an excuse for torturing Harry’s whereabouts out of people?"

"Well..." Remus sighed, then pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet out of his cloak and tossed it over to Harry. "Here, you’ll know sooner or later anyway. That's their pretext for going after you."

Sure enough, Harry's face was on the front page, along with the headlineWANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE.

"Bloody hell," I muttered, sliding the paper over to Ron and Hermione to investigate.

"You should know... they wanted information on you too, Lucy," Remus said.

I stiffened. "What kind of information?"

"It seems the Ministry has finally decided to take an interest in the deaths of Amos and Susan Diggory," he replied. "They... said they find it suspicious that you're the sole survivor of so many magical attacks."

"I thought they thought I was dead?"

"Someone must have figured out you're not," Remus said apologetically. "Perhaps the Death Eaters at the site of the crash were considered too dumb, or too lazy, or both. In any event, there's been no sighting of Rose in the past two years, and they seem to find that suspicious too."

"I— what?" I massaged my forehead. "I haven't even thought about Rose in ages. I assumed the trail had gone cold and I'd never know what happened or why. Now you're saying I have to find her to clear my name?"

Remus grimaced. "Well, no. Those of us who know you believe you would never do anything of the sort. George, in fact, laughed out loud when he realized that they were trying to imply that you'd killed three people at the age of fifteen. But, well, I thought you should know that you're wanted in connection with deaths too, though not as prolific as Dumbledore's. Your wanted poster is on page four, I believe."

"So Death Eaters have taken over the Daily Prophet too? But surely people realize what's going on!" Hermione said desperately.

"The coup has been smooth and virtually silent. The official version of Scrimgeour's murder is that he resigned; he has been replaced by Pius Thicknesse, who is under the Imperius Curse."

"Why didn't Voldemort declare himself Minister of Magic?" Ron asked.

Remus laughed. "He doesn't need to, Ron. Effectively he is the Minister, but why should he sit behind a desk at the Ministry? His puppet, Thicknesse, is taking care of everyday business, leaving Voldemort free to extend his power beyond the Ministry. Naturally many people have deduced what has happened: There has been such a dramatic change in Ministry policy in the last few days, and many are whispering that Voldemort must be behind it. However, that is the point: They whisper. They daren't confide in each other, not knowing who to trust; they are scared to speak out, in case their suspicions are true and their families are targeted. Yes, Voldemort is playing a very clever game. Declaring himself might have provoked open rebellion. Remaining masked has created confusion, uncertainty, and fear."

"And this dramatic change in Ministry policy involves warning the wizarding world against me instead of Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"That's certainly part of it, and it is a masterstroke. Now that Dumbledore is dead, you — the Boy Who Lived — were sure to be the symbol and rallying point for any resistance to Voldemort. But by suggesting that you had a hand in the old hero's death, Voldemort has not only set a price upon your head, but sown doubt and fear among many who would have defended you. Meanwhile, the Ministry has started moving against Muggle-borns. Look at page two."

Hermione opened the newspaper and read aloud, "'Muggle-born Register. The Ministry of Magic is undertaking a survey of so-called "Muggle-borns," the better to understand how they came to possess magical secrets. Recent research undertaken by the Department of Mysteries reveals that magic can only be passed from person to person when wizards reproduce. Where no proven wizarding ancestry exists, therefore, the so-called Muggle-born is likely to have obtained magical power by theft or force. The Ministry is determined to root out such usurpers of magical power, and to this end has issued an invitation to every so-called Muggle-born to present themselves for interview by the newly appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission.'"

"People won't let this happen!" Ron burst out angrily.

Remus sighed. "It is happening, Ron. Muggle-borns are being rounded up as we speak."

Harry's hand found my thigh under the table, and he held tight as Ron talked.

"But how are they supposed to have 'stolen' magic? It's mental, if you could steal magic there wouldn't be any Squibs, would there?"

"I know. Nevertheless, unless you can prove that you have at least one close wizarding relative, you are now deemed to have obtained your magical power illegally and must suffer the punishment."

"What if pure-bloods and half-bloods swear a Muggle-born's part of their family? I'll tell everyone Hermione's my cousin — "

Hermione reached out and squeezed Ron's hand. "Thank you, Ron, but I couldn't let you — "

"You won't have a choice. I'll teach you my family tree so you can answer questions on it — "

"Ron, as we're on the run with Harry Potter, the most wanted person in the country, I don't think it matters. If I was going back to school it would be different. What's Voldemort planning for Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.

"Attendance is now compulsory for every young witch and wizard. That was announced yesterday. It's a change, because it was never obligatory before. Of course, nearly every witch and wizard in Britain has been educated at Hogwarts, but their parents had the right to teach them at home or send them abroad if they preferred. This way, Voldemort will have the whole wizarding population under his eye from a young age. And it's also another way of weeding out Muggle-borns, because students must be given Blood Status — meaning that they have proven to the Ministry that they are of wizard descent — before they are allowed to attend."

I exchanged a long look with Harry, who looked as disturbed as I felt.

"It's..." Harry said, looking back at Remus. "It's..."

"I know," Remus said.

"Remus, how... how exactly are they determining who's Muggle-born and who's not?" I asked. "There are plenty of wizarding families that aren't the Sacred Twenty-Eight. As far as I'm aware, those families are the only ones that really keep track of a family tree, and even then, technically the Weasleys are on that list and Muriel believed Harry was a relative easily enough. How are they 'rounding up' Muggle-borns?"

"I wish I knew," he replied in a tone of voice that implied he understood exactly why I was asking. "So far, it's been largely students, as well as outspoken and well-known Muggle-borns. Those who can go into hiding have done so, but not everyone can do that."

I bit my lip. Umbridge had known about the Everlins from my father's file. I had no idea where that file was. I had no idea if anyone other than the select few people that I'd trusted over the years knew if they were Muggles or not. I was reasonably certain that Voldemort would not be bothered to waste any time or resources hunting my family down, but I'd feel infinitely better if I knew he couldn't hunt my family down.

Remus hesitated for a long second before speaking again. "Now that I've found you, can you confide in me what your mission from Dumbledore is?"

Harry shook his head. "I can't, Remus, I'm sorry. If Dumbledore didn't tell you I don't think I can."

"I thought you'd say that, but I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to."

"But what about Tonks?" Hermione piped up.

"What about her?"

"Well, you're married!" Hermione replied. "How does she feel about you going away with us?"

"Tonks will be perfectly safe. She'll be at her parents' house."

Hermione bit her lip for a second. "Remus, is everything alright... you know... between you and — "

"Everything is fine, thank you," Remus interrupted.

I leveled him with a look. "You can't honestly expect us to just accept that. You don't have to divulge the details of your marriage, but I think we have a right to know why exactly you're making this offer before we even think about taking you up on it."

"Tonks is... going to have a baby," he admitted with a carefully-guarded facial expression.

The four of us immediately offered him our congratulations and well-wishes, but his expression did not change.

"So, do you accept my offer?" Remus asked. "Will four become five? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe that we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined."

"We've done alright for ourselves so far," I replied coldly.

Harry removed his hand from my leg and laced his fingers together on top of the table. "Just to be clear. You want to leave Tonks at her parents' house and come away with us?"

"She'll be perfectly safe there, they'll look after her. Harry, I'm sure James would have wanted me to stick with you."

"Well, I'm not." Harry clenched his jaw. "I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with your own kid, actually."

Remus went white. "You don't understand."

"I think I do," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

"But by all means, explain anyway," Harry grit out.

Remus looked desperately at Harry."I — I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and I have regretted it very much ever since."

"I see, so you're just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?" Harry challenged.

"Don't you understand what I've done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her, I've made her an outcast!" Remus jumped to his feet and kicked over the chair he toppled in the process. "You have only ever seen me among the Order, or under Dumbledore's protection at Hogwarts! You don't know how most of the wizarding world sees creatures like me! When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Don't you see what I've done? What parents want their only daughter to marry a werewolf? And the child — the child — my kind don't usually breed! It will be like me, I am convinced of it — how can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!"

"Remus! Don't say that!" Hermione's eyes glittered with tears as she looked back and forth between Remus and me. "How could any child be ashamed of you?"

Remus looked at me, stricken. "Lucy, this isn't— you're not— "

"You're right, I'm not," I said, "And I'm never going to be. I'm never going to be a parent. Someone at St. Mungo's made sure of that. And I'm not going to be like you, either. I know what I am, and I know what you are. I know how the world sees us. Did you actually believe everything you've told me for years, about how we're not inherently good or inherently bad? If so, take your own advice, Professor."

"Lucy— " he started again, "please, it's— it's different for you, you're so young, you haven't made the mistakes I have— "

"I never want to be anything like you," I interrupted, "if this is who you really are."

"Yeah, Hermione, I'd be plenty ashamed of him, if he was my dad, and it sounds like Lucy agrees," Harry said.

Remus blinked, looking stricken all over again as he returned his attention to Harry.

Harry glared at Remus. "If the new regime thinks Muggle-borns are bad, what will they do to a half-werewolf whose father's in the Order? My father died trying to protect my mother and me, and you reckon he'd tell you to abandon your kid to go on an adventure with us?"

"How — how dare you?" Remus stammered. "This is not about a desire for — for danger or personal glory — how dare you suggest such a — "

"I think you're feeling a bit of a daredevil, you fancy stepping into Sirius's shoes," Harry continued.

"Harry, no!" Hermione shouted.

"Yeah, Harry, that's not it, I don't think," I said. "No, I think he's hoping he follows in your dad's footsteps. I hope he wants to die a hero like your dad so he doesn't have to live with the consequences of his own actions. No one made you marry Tonks, Remus, and certainly no one made you 'breed' either. We're not going to be complicit in this ridiculous attempt to make your life mean something because guess what, it already means quite a bit without you martyring yourself unnecessarily!"

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head at Remus. "I'd never have believed this. The man who taught me to fight dementors — a coward."

Remus drew his wand then, faster than I'd ever seen him move.

I was faster.

"DON'T YOU f*ckING DARE ATTACK HARRY!" I roared as I jumped to my feet, a colossal Shield Charm cracking into place separating him from us. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW f*ckING STUPID YOU'RE BEING, REMUS LUPIN? GO! LEAVE! WE DON'T WANT YOU HERE!"

My Shield Charm was strong, but the Stunning Spell he sent at us was stronger. Harry and I both found ourselves launched against the wall. By the time I'd scrambled to my feet, Remus had fled the room with Hermione on his tail.

I helped Harry to his feet. "You okay?"

He grunted noncommittally, rubbing the back of his head. "Are you?"

"Harry, Lucy, how could you!" Hermione cried when she returned to the kitchen.

"It was easy," Harry muttered.

Hermione looked back and forth between the two of us with wide, terrified eyes.

"Don't look at us like that," I snapped.

"Don't you start on her!" Ron snapped back.

"No, no, we mustn't fight!" Hermione interjected.

Ron sighed and shook his head. "You shouldn't have said that stuff to Remus."

"He had it coming to him. Parents shouldn't leave their kids unless... unless they've got to," Harry choked out.

"Harry..." Hermione said, reaching out a hand to comfort him, but he marched away.

"I'll go talk to him," I whispered, "it's okay. Give a shout if you need us."

"Are you alright?" Ron asked.

I nodded, then followed Harry before they could ask any questions.

It looks like empathy
To understand all sides
But I'm just trying to find myself
Through someone else's eyes

So show me what to do
To restart this heart of mine
How do I forgive myself
For losing so much time

Once the door closed behind us, I slipped my hand into his and guided him up to the top of Grimmauld Place, all the way back up to the window seat where I'd once had my wolfsbane and talked to Harry about how I wanted to try to learn how to love myself.

"He was out of line," Harry said once we'd settled in the window seat, hands tangled between us. "I love you and I love being with you. You know that, don't you?"

I nodded, a couple of tears crawling up my throat. "I'm sorry I never told you about... about the fact that I can't have kids. I didn't think it was particularly relevant, considering, well, our age."

"I don't care about that, it's okay, love." Harry squeezed my hands. "I love you independent of all of that. I'm just sorry that you... I'm just sorry. I love you."

"I love you too," I replied.

Harry stared down at our hands for a moment. "I know I shouldn't have called him a coward."

"I did too."

"He's acting like one."

"He sure is."

"If it makes him go back to Tonks, it'll be worth it, right?"

"If it keeps him alive, it'll be worth it. I'd..." Tears choked out my voice for a moment, but I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced the tears away. "Given the choice, I'd rather have a cowardly father than a dead one."

"Me too," Harry said immediately.

Silence stretched between us as we each got lost in our own thoughts.

"I wish we'd gotten to ask him about the pictures, and the Riddle spawn," I said.

Harry winced. "Yeah. Sorry."

"No, don't be sorry, he's the one who should be sorry, for running out on his wife and for everything he said about 'his kind.' When is he going to realize that self-hatred can hurt other people too?"

"I don't know. I think that's a rather difficult lesson to learn. Speaking of lessons, you're worried about school, aren't you?"

I nodded. "What are the Creeveys going to do? And Dean? And— I just hope that when I don't show up, they don't go digging for information on me, I hope they just assume I'm with you."

"They will," Harry said. "I mean, nobody knows about us being together together, but, well, we're still us. We're always together."

"I'm scared," I admitted. "For my family. Umbridge knew. The file said they're presumed to be dead, so I'm sure the Ministry won't look, but I know they're not, at least I hope they're not. I'm scared. I don't know what to do. I..."

I looked out the window as an idea hatched.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"If I could get into the Ministry and steal my files, I'd be safe," I said. "Which is a crazy sentence, I'm aware, but— "

"I mean, in all fairness, we're just sitting around here reading books so far," Harry replied with a shrug. "Breaking into the Ministry would be crazy, yes, but I think — "

Before Harry could continue, there was a loud crack downstairs.

I grabbed Harry's hand and apparated us to the kitchen to find not Remus, but Kreacher, and Mundungus Fletcher, who had appeared in the kitchen. Hermione was holding two wands, and Ron was flat on top of Mundungus, who was wriggling uselessly trying to free himself.

Kreacher bowed to Harry. "Kreacher has returned with the thief Mundungus Fletcher, Master."

"What? What've I done?" he whined. "Setting a bleedin' house-elf on me, what are you playing at, what've I done, lemme go, lemme go, or — "

"You're not in much of a position to make threats," Harry said with a snort, pointing his wand at Mundungus as Ron pried himself off.

"Kreacher apologizes for the delay in bringing the thief, Master. Fletcher knows how to avoid capture, has many hidey-holes and accomplices. Nevertheless, Kreacher cornered the thief in the end," Kreacher said.

"You've done really well, Kreacher, thank you," Harry replied.

I pointed my wand at Mundungus too, who remained frozen on the floor in fear. "We've got a few questions for you."

"I panicked, okay? I never wanted to come along, no offense, mate," he added in Harry's direction, "but I never volunteered to die for you, and that was bleedin' You-Know-Who come flying at me, anyone would have got outta there, I said all along I didn't wanna do it — "

"I didn't disapparate," I grit out. "No one else did except for you."

"Well, you're a bunch of bleedin' heroes then, aren't you, but I never pretended I was up for killing myself — "

"We're not interested in why you ran out on Mad-Eye and Lucy. We already knew you were an unreliable bit of scum," Harry said.

"Well then, why the hell am I being hunted down by house-elves? Or is this about them goblets again? I ain't got none of them left, or you could have them — "

"It's not about the goblets either, although you're getting warmer. Shut up and listen." Harry moved his wand so close to Dung's face he was nearly cross-eyed looking at it. "When you cleaned out this house of anything valuable— "

"Sirius never cared about any of the junk — "

Before he could continue, Kreacher seized a saucepan and rushed over to Mundungus, smacking him upside the head with it.

"Call him off, call him off!" Mungundus begged. "He should be locked up!"

"Kreacher, no!" Harry called, though he looked rather pleased and amused.

"Perhaps just one more, Master Harry, for luck?" Kreacher asked.

Ron and I dissolved into laughter then.

Harry tried and failed to stifle a grin. "We need him conscious, Kreacher, but if he needs persuading you can do the honors."

"Thank you very much, Master," Kreacher said, lowering the pan and taking a step back to glare at Mundungus.

"When you stripped this house of all the valuables you could find, you took a bunch of stuff from the kitchen cupboard," Harry started. "There was a locket there. What did you do with it?"

"Why, is it valuable?" Mundungus replied immediately.

Hermione gasped. "You've still got it!"

"No, he hasn't. He's wondering whether he should have asked more money for it," Ron said, narrowing his eyes at Dung.

"More? That wouldn't have been difficult, bleedin' gave it away, didn't I? No choice."

"So someone stole it off of you?" I asked, suddenly very concerned.

"I was selling in Diagon Alley and she come up to me and asks if I’ve got a license for trading in magical artifacts. Bleedin' snoop. She was gonna fine me, but she took a fancy to the locket and told me she'd take it and let me off that time, and to think myself lucky."

Harry blinked. "Who was this woman?"

"I dunno, some Ministry hag. Little woman. Bow on top of her head. Looked like a toad."

Harry dropped his wand then, sending sparks into Dung's eyebrows, which ignited. Hermione extinguished the flames immediately, and while Mundungus spluttered and blustered at us, we all exchanged a look.

"Well, f*ck," Ron said after a moment.

I nodded. "Couldn't have said it better myself, Weasley."

"Can I go now?" Mundungus groaned from where he was still on the ground.

"No, you know where we are," I said, instantly snapping toward him, wand pointed directly at him. "We're going to need to make sure you can't tell anyone where we are."

Dung's eyes went wide. "No, please, don't kill me!"

"I'm not going to kill you, as much as I might want to kill you for getting Alastor killed. No, I'm not a killer, Dung, but I am careful. We can't risk you telling anyone where we are."

"I won't, I swear!" he said.

I laughed. "In what world is that good enough? No, I'm afraid we're going to need something better than that. Get up, if you please."

"Shall I?" Hermione asked, drawing her wand. "Obliviate him, I mean?"

"No, he'd be seen leaving here," I said. "I... I have an idea, but it's... I don't know how I feel about it."

Harry looked at me with hesitant curiosity. "What is it?"

"An Unbreakable Vow," I whispered.

Hermione lit up. "That's perfect! He wouldn't dare break that. He betrays us, he dies, and we— well— you and Mad-Eye unfortunately know better than anyone else the lengths to which he's willing to go to save his own skin."

"f*ck you for that, by the way, Dung," Ron interjected. "Lucy almost died because of you. Mad-Eye did die because of you. If Lucy had died too, we would just kill you right now. That's not the reason we brought you here, but while you're here, f*ck you."

"I second that," Harry said. He sighed. "Well... I'm not opposed to the idea of an Unbreakable Vow. It did lead to disaster in the case of Snape and Malfoy, but, well, this is different. The stakes are higher than we realized, seeing as I'm wanted in connection with Dumbledore's murder on top of the fact that I'm on the run trying to destroy Voldemort once and for all. Maybe the time has come for such measures."

"I wish I knew how to tie his tongue, like Alastor did for Snape," I mumbled, "but I don't. I think an Unbreakable Vow is the best way to stop him from telling anyone where we are."

"What's holding you back, Lucy?" Ron asked. "Seems good to me."

"If he betrays us, he dies. This feels like Marietta all over again," I finished in a whisper.

Harry offered me a sympathetic look. "I see."

"Lucy, if I may," Hermione said, a little shy, "Mundungus is a grown man. He, theoretically, has a fully-developed frontal lobe and thus is capable, theoretically, of making his own good decisions, more so than Marietta, a teenage girl. If he betrays us, that's his call. He's fully aware of the consequences for doing so. In any event, as we learned when he evaded Kreacher for over three days, he's good at hiding. I doubt he'll find himself in a truly dire situation any time soon. The Unbreakable Vow just removes any advantages offered by betraying us. Without it, he could very easily sell the information. With it, though, selling the information is useless, seeing as he'd be dead."

"Alright," I relented. "I'll do it. Any final thoughts?"

"I object!" Mundungus said.

"Shut up," the four of us responded in perfect unison.

I approached him, hand extended.

Mundungus stared at my hand like I was offering him a venomous snake.

"Let's write out the wording," Hermione suggested. "Then we can get it exactly right, no loopholes."

"I can cast the spell," Ron said. "I know it all too well. Fred almost trapped me in an Unbreakable Vow when we were kids."

"I'll keep a wand pointed at him so he doesn't get any ideas," Harry muttered.

Soon enough, Hermione and I had figured out what we wanted to say, and I was ready. I extended my hand to Mundungus again, and he accepted it when Harry threatened to light his eyebrows on fire again, intentionally that time.

Hermione held up the parchment so I could read it while Ron twirled his wand over our joined hands. Bright orange flames, thin as thread, tied our hands together as I began to speak.

"Do you, Mundungus Fletcher, solemnly swear not to share any information pertaining to the whereabouts, activities, or other details of the lives of Harry James Potter, Lucy Everlin Diggory, Hermione Jean Granger, or Ronald Bilius Weasley with anyone until Voldemort has been successfully defeated or we are dead?"

"I swear," he grumbled.

"Do you, Mundungus Fletcher, solemnly swear not to speak to anybody other than Harry James Potter, Lucy Everlin Diggory, Hermione Jean Granger, Ronald Bilius Weasley, or Kreacher about any items you may have found at 12 Grimmauld Place until Voldemort has been successfully defeated or we are dead?"

"I swear."

"Good. That's it."

We released hands then, and he shook out his hand like he'd been burned.

"Take your wand and get out of here," Harry said. "We don't want to see you again unless we need something from you, which is improbable."

Hermione tossed Mundungus his wand.

"You can disapparate off the top step, unless you fancy being attacked by the Death Eaters waiting just outside," I said.

Mundungus wasted no time in hurrying to the front door. Once we heard the crack of him disapparating, we all deflated with sighs.

"Sorry you didn't get to whack him again, Kreacher," I said. "I'm sure you'll get another chance one day."

He nodded. "For Master Moody."

"Ah, yeah, he was a pure-blood, wasn't he?"

Kreacher nodded, the locket bouncing against his chest as he did so.

"Are you enjoying the locket?" I asked.

Kreacher nodded more emphatically, the locket bouncing even more. "Oh yes. Now that Kreacher is back, what would Master Harry like for dinner?"

"Er— well— we've just been eating moldy bread, Kreacher."

"I will fetch better food for Master Harry and his friends!" Kreacher declared, disappearing with a loud crack.

"Well... cool," Ron said. "So how are we going to get the locket back from Umbridge?"

Harry looked at me, corners of his lips twitching with amusem*nt. "Lu? It was your idea, after all."

"It was hypothetical, and a long shot!" I protested.

When the other three just stared at me expectantly, I deflated with a sigh.

"It's obvious, isn't it? We have to break into the Ministry."

Wake up
Roll up your sleeves
There's a chain reaction
In your heart
Muscle memory
Remembering who you are

That night, we had a proper meal for the first time in days, thanks to Kreacher's change of attitude since being given the locket. My idea about breaking into the Ministry had been met with shock at first ("I'm sorry, I think I just hallucinated, what did you just say?"), then acceptance ("Unfortunately, I think you're right, we need to get the locket from Umbridge somehow and that's the only place she's guaranteed to be"), then despair ("Oh Merlin, how on earth are we going to do this, where do we even begin?"), then, finally, determination ("Well, standing around here worrying about it isn't going to make the locket magically appear, we need a plan"). We talked late into the night, making a plan for gathering information about how exactly we would go about breaking into the Ministry, before turning in. Once everyone else was asleep, though, I was still rather restless after sleeping all day, so I dug into my rucksack and pulled out the orb Cedric had given me so long ago.

I'd been hesitant to reach out to the twins with the orb, just in case the joke shop had somehow been compromised. I was scared, too, of the possibility that they wouldn't respond, and it would just make me all the more anxious. But I realized that they, too, could have been reaching out and not hearing back from meand subsequently panicking, so I pulled out the orb and simply held it in my hands, knowing that the one I'd left at the joke shop would glow as long as I was touching it.

After only about a minute, the orb glowed right back, purple, for George. I'd managed to enchant the orbs so that they glowed a different color according to whoever was in contact. Purple for George. Orange for Fred. Sky blue for me. Black for anyone else.

I set the orb down on my blanket and started tapping frantic Morse code.It was slow going, but a conversation began to take shape.

Me. Are you okay?

George. Yes are you?

Me. Yes we four are okay. Is everyone there okay?

Fred. Yes we are all okay.

Me. Can't talk long.

George. It's okay. Glad you're okay.

Me. Miss you.

George. Miss you.

Fred. Miss you.

Me. Question.

Fred. Potential answer.

Me. Did Voldemort have a kid?

Fred. What.

Me. Look into it?

George. Sure. Can you say why?

Me. Thank you. Found a picture of what looks like Riddle spawn.

Fred. I wish you could have seen the looks on our faces.

Me. Me too.

George. Why are you awake?

Me. Why are you?

Fred. Fair.

Me. Shop open?

Fred. No. Mail only.

George. Still living there though.

Fred. For now.

Me. Is Ginny upset with me?

George. A bit.

Me. Don't lie.

Fred. Furious.

Me. I want to tell you to tell her I'm sorry but I don't know if it would help.

George. Can we tell her you're okay at least?

Me. Of course. I trust your discretion.

Fred. I would crack a joke about that not being the best idea but I don't want to unnerve you so I will just say we're glad you trust us.

Me. Appreciated. I don't know how often I will be able to check in like this.

George. Just whenever you can please. We charmed ours to make noise so we always know when you're here.

Me. Thank you. I'll use it sparingly. No news is good news.

Fred. Hearing from you is always good news.

Me. If you say so. Good night boys. I love you.

George. I love you too.

Fred. I love you too.

I tucked the orb away and slipped from the room to splash cold water on my face.

I hadn't cried yet. Not since the day after the Seven Potters.

I got the feeling that if I started crying, I'd never stop.

So I shoved the emotion away and doused my face in cold water over and over and over again until I shivered. I dropped to the floor of the bathroom with a shuddering sigh and put my head between my knees, rocking myself back and forth in a feeble attempt to self-soothe.

Stand up
And fall in love again and again and again
Wage war on gravity
There's so much
Worth fighting for
You'll see
Another domino falls

In time, though, the emotion passed, ripping through me and leaving me empty. I got back up and returned to the bedroom, where the others were all still asleep. Not soundly. Hermione's forehead had a worried crease even in sleep. Ron's sheets were in disarray because of how much he'd been tossing and turning. Harry was only halfway on his bed, truthfully— he was lying on his stomach with his left arm and left foot dangling off the bed, as if he was reaching for me.

And another domino falls

I crawled back into bed and wrapped the blankets tightly around myself until I dropped off to sleep.

The next several days passed in a bit of a blur. We set up a rotation where every day, one person would take the invisibility cloak and scope out the Ministry while the other three either worked on updating our plans, looking around the house for any more books that would help us, or reading the books we already had in the search of more information.

My first anniversary with Harry was the day before the full moon, so we spent the whole day preparing a room I could transform in. Hermione was on scope-out-the-Ministry duty that day, so Ron helped us. We moved all of the furniture out of the room, then filled it with cushions and blankets to make it as safe as possible. We charmed it to hell and back with all kinds of protective enchantments. I reminded the boys, though, that it was summer, which meant the moon itself would be quite short compared to how long it was in the dead of winter.

When Hermione returned, Ron made his way downstairs to greet her and hear about her day while Harry and I finished up. As soon as he left, Harry turned to me with an unreadable expression.

"Luna said something interesting at the wedding," he began, "about werewolves."

"Luna's always saying something interesting," I replied.

"She said that if you say a werewolf's name from a place of love after the transformation, they'll transform back. She said they interviewed a werewolf for The Quibbler lately who confirmed that it's true."

I sighed. "Harry, I appreciate the thought, but I highly doubt something like that would work. If it did, it would change everything."

"Has anyone ever tried it with you?" he asked desperately.

"No, of course not," I said with a snort. "Look, I'm not about to deny the power of love-related magic when I'm standing in the same room as Harry James Potter, who is only alive because of it, according to Dumbledore... but this is a stretch. A rumor, nothing more, and a rather anti-werewolf one at that. If it's really that simple, it's never worked because no one's ever loved a werewolf enough to make it work. You know?"

"Luna said if anyone could do it for you, it would be me," Harry pressed.

"You're not going to let this go until you try it, huh?"

Harry just stared at me earnestly.

I sighed again. "Harry... I'm going to be okay for tomorrow night. I have a safe room to transform in. Once I get in here tomorrow, I'll magically seal the door with the strongest magic I have from this side, and Hermione will do the same on the other side. Then you three will hunker down for the night and we'll tell Kreacher to hide away too just in case, and everything will work out alright. Maybe you can try it when we've run out of safe options for me."

Harry wrapped his arms around me without another word, shaking. I hugged him back, wishing I could just will all of his pain and fear away if I held him tight enough.

"Luna said I love you more than anyone," he whispered after a moment.

I smiled. "I believe it."

I could hear the smile in his voice as he replied. "Happy anniversary, my love."

"Happy anniversary," I replied. "You know, this isn't exactly how I imagined spending the day, but I'm glad I'm here with you, at least."

"Likewise."

I pulled away from him abruptly and pulled a scrap of parchment and a quill out of my pocket.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

I showed him the note as soon as I'd written it. Testing the protection spells. Don't be alarmed when you can't get in.

Harry grinned. "I see."

I used a Sticking Charm to put the note on the front of the door before closing it, then quickly sealed and soundproofed it with every last spell I knew. As soon as I was done, I grabbed Harry James Potter by the neck, pulling his face to mine in a desperate kiss.

We hadn't snogged, not properly, in ages. The closest we'd come to snogging was the couple of kisses we'd exchanged on his birthday.

That evening, though, under the guise of merely testing out protection spells before the full moon, we lost ourselves in each other, lit by the warm glow of candles flickering in their sconces. All of the tension of the past weeks seemed to evaporate. We measured time in moments as we put the cushions and the blankets on the floor to good use, time and space bending to our will.

Reality caught up to us in an instant, though, when there was a loud crack of apparition followed by a shriek of alarm.

I frantically rolled off of Harry with a squeak as Harry pushed himself up to an elbow and scrambled for his glasses.

"Kreacher has come to inform Master Harry that dinner is ready," Kreacher said, peeking at Harry from between his fingers.

"Thanks, Kreacher," Harry panted. "Kreacher, I forbid you to breathe a word of this to anyone! You cannot tell anyone what you saw, not even Ron and Hermione! You are to tell Ron and Hermione that— that we've just been making sure the protection spells are as strong as possible and the cushions and blankets are as safe and comfortable as possible. I forbid you to tell anyone anything about what I may or may not have been doing with Lucy!"

Kreacher nodded so empathically and so rapidly he looked like a Muggle bobblehead in a shop window. "Yes, Master Harry. Of course, Master Harry. Happily, Master Harry."

With that, Kreacher disapparated, leaving the two of us breathless and reeling for a long moment.

I started giggling first, and Harry followed shortly thereafter. We laid on the ground side-by-side laughing for a long minute before he got to his feet and hauled me up.

"Well, that was fun while it lasted," I said, still trying to catch my breath.

"I think we both needed that," he replied with an emphatic nod.

I popped to my toes to kiss him on the cheek. "Happy anniversary to us."

"Happy anniversary to us," he echoed, smiling wide.

We hurriedly fixed all of the cushions, and then fixed each other. My hair was a mess, our clothes were a mess, and Harry had quite an impressive hickey on his neck that I healed rather reluctantly. Once we were sorted, I extinguished the lights and opened the door, and the two of us made our way down to the kitchen as if nothing scandalous whatsoever had been taking place upstairs.

If Ron and Hermione suspected anything, they didn't show it. Hermione immediately began talking about her day at the Ministry, and I was content to just listen in silence with my ankle hooked around Harry's under the table.

The horrified looks Kreacher kept giving me from across the room were even better than the delicious shepherd's pie he'd prepared.

It was a happier first anniversary than I'd ever dreamed of having.

A little at a time
I feel more alive
I let the scale tip and feel all of it
It's uncomfortable but right

We were born to try
To see each other through
To know and love ourselves and others well
Is the most difficult and meaningful work we'll ever do

"Nine"
Sleeping At Last