XXVIII. THE GEEZER WAR 1995
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❝Everyday is repeating, the future is bleak
I feel suffocated inside my heart❞
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LUCIA WOKE UP WITH A quiet start, flinching as she was immediately greeted by a blinding light, warmth enveloping her body. It was quite the contrast from before, which only meant one thing.
She was dead.
Am I... in heaven?
Was she in heaven in the first place? Because for all she knew, her soul had fly low than high...
She cursed herself. Why did she had to be held hostage right before the third task? Why couldn't it be the night after? Why did she had to go to heaven, hell, or wherever without saying goodbye —
"What are you doing, Hermione? Can't you stay still?"
She froze at the sound of the familiar voice; a wave of relief began flooding through her. Had she heard that right, or was she just hallucinating?
Could you even hallucinate when you're dead?
"I'm coping, Ron! You try to be me for once and see if it's easy as you make it out to be!" Hermione's voice filled her ears. Though it was in a whispering tone, it was loud enough for her to hear.
"Okay, okay," Ron said, annoyed. "But be quieter, or else Mum's gonna throw a fit,"
Slowly, her eyes opened just slightly. She took a moment to readjust herself to the light after being stuck in utter darkness the whole time until she finally realised that she was safe in the confinements of the hospital wing.
Someone saved them.
Someone saved her and the real Moody. Finally.
With as much strength she could muster, Lucia attempted to move her head slightly, which only made her greatly regret it after. All she felt was pain in each and every movement, but it was much better than before. Before was just terrible; she had to endure the pain even while breathing.
She glanced around the room and saw Harry sleeping soundly in the bed next to her. What happened? Why was he here too? Did he get hurt accidentally?
Questions began to pop into her mind one by one and before she knew it, she began to think of Barty Crouch Junior and that blasted trunk. Her chest became heavy, shuddering as she thought of those very moments she had, thinking she could never wake up from that terrible nightmare.
She didn't think she could approach a trunk the same way ever again...
She stared aimlessly at Harry, who had cuts on his face and bruises over his arms. It looked worse than how it was when he went against dragons. How much damage can a maze do other than damaging someone's sanity?
She hated mazes —
What the hell was she thinking now? Shouldn't she be worrying about other things, like maybe what happened to Crouch? Did whatever his plan was even work?
Harry was still alive... so maybe it didn't?
Merlin, she hoped it didn't.
She glanced around some more and saw Hermione and Ron in the middle, between hers and Harry's bed. From the looks of them, she saw how worried they were. Whatever that went on during the the third task must've been rough, because there were looks that went toward Harry's way, looking as though they feared he could disappear at any given moment. And peculiarly, they kept on glancing at her as well with the same gaze.
Lucia subconsciously shrugged. Must've been her imagination.
Then she strayed her eyes away and saw some peculiar guests in the room. There was a large black dog sitting on Harry, as though guarding him.
She was hallucinating.
Then there was a handsome man that could certainly make her stammer out some words out of nervousness. If this was a normal occasion, she was sure that she would've gawked (respectfully) as much as she could, even involuntarily. Then, not far from them, was a plump woman with flaming red hair that simply exuded warmth that only a mother could possess, yet even so, it could never reach the extent of her mum.
Somehow, the woman looks familiar to her. But how? She couldn't quite put it...
Did being slammed against the wall so hard damage her memory? She really desired for it to not be the case, because she would love to avoid hospitals as much as she can.
Lucia stared attentively at the woman. Why does she — oh.
She knew there was a reason why she looks familiar. It was because the woman look somewhat like Ginny... and Ron? Could she be their mother? But what's she doing here?
Perhaps she was just hallucinating again. It was now a common occurrence, especially with how much blood she had just lost...
Lucia noticed the woman looked blotched, as though she had just been crying, but it didn't take her long to see the furiousness that laced her expression.
It was an expression that was rather famous amongst mothers.
"They'll wake them if they don't shut up!" she shouted, causing Lucia to flinch slightly.
Goodness does this woman have good vocal cords.
"What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?"
Soon enough, Mrs. Weasley was on her feet. "That's Fudge's voice," she whispered. "And that's Minerva McGonagall's, isn't it? But what are they arguing about?"
Furrowing her eyes, Lucia now could hear it too: people shouting and running toward the hospital wing.
"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva —" Cornelius Fudge was saying loudly.
"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" yelled Professor McGonagall. "When Dumbledore finds out —"
The hospital doors burst open. Unnoticed by any of the people around the two beds, all of whom were staring at the door as Bill pulled back the screens, Lucia snapped her eyes open fully, but was still laid flat back against her bed.
Fudge came striding up the ward. Professors McGonagall and Snape were at his heels.
"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.
"He's not here," said Mrs. Weasley angrily. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to —"
But the door opened, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.
"What has happened?" said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor McGonagall. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you — I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch —"
"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!" she shrieked. "The Minister has seen to that!"
Lucia felt small all the sudden. She'd never seen Professor McGonagall lose control like this. There were angry blotches of color in her cheeks, and her hands were balled into fists; she was trembling with fury. It reminded her of Mrs. Beaumont back home, and she didn't like that. Nonetheless, she continued to listen, curious about Crouch and she was about to know what happened to him.
"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," said Snape, in a low voice, "he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch —"
"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" Professor McGonagall fumed. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but —"
"My dear woman!" roared Fudge, who likewise looked angrier than any of them had ever seen, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous —"
But Professor McGonagall's voice drowned Fudge's.
"The moment that — that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Crouch and — and —"
Professor McGonagall struggled to find words to describe what had happened. However, she did not need to finish the sentence for them to know what went on. It was evident what the dementor must have done. It had administered its fatal Kiss to Barty Crouch. It had sucked his soul out through his mouth. He was worse than dead.
"By all accounts, he is no loss!" blustered Fudge. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"
"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. He was staring hard at Fudge, as though seeing him plainly for the first time. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."
"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" blustered Fudge. "He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"
Voldemort?
"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."
Her blood went cold. What...
What did he just say?
That was Crouch's plan all along? No, that couldn't be possible. She remembered people saying Voldemort vanish...
...but the remains were never found...
But how was he able to restore his body?
Lucia turned back to the conversation at hand and saw that Fudge looked as though someone had just swung a heavy weight into his face. Dazed and blinking, he stared back at Dumbledore as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. He began to sputter, still goggling at Dumbledore.
"You-Know-Who... returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore..."
"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," said Dumbledore, "we heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort — learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins — went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."
"See here, Dumbledore," said Fudge, a slight smile dawning on his face, "you — you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who — back? Come now, come now... certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders — but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore..."
"When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort," said Dumbledore steadily. "He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth."
Perhaps it was just her, but everything was becoming a doozy. The whole reason Harry was in the hospital wing in the first was because of him? It was because of Voldemort and Crouch, whom she had failed to expose?
Voldemort's back because of Crouch's plan that she failed to interfere...
"I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office." He said.
Dumbledore glanced around at Harry and saw that he was awake, but shook his head and said, "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight."
Fudge's curious smile lingered. He too glanced at Harry, then looked back at Dumbledore, and said, "You are — er — prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"
There was a moment's silence, which was broken by the large black dog growling. His hackles were raised, and he was baring his teeth at Fudge.
"W-Why shouldn't he?"
Hermione, Ron, Bill, Mrs. Weasley, and Harry, who was sitting on his bed, fully awake, unbeknownst to the others, jumped at Lucia's hoarse voice.
She began to slowly raise up from where she had laid, her hand rested against her bandaged head as she stared at Fudge daringly while Mrs. Weasley came scurrying to her side.
If there was one thing Lucia hated the most than watermelon with seeds, it was politicians. They failed her too many times to even count.
Lucia eyes bored deeply into Fudge's; a sense of tired animosity emitted from her. "Why would Harry lie about this?"
"Yes, indeed, why would Harry have lied?" said Dumbledore. His eyes were blazing now. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."
Fudge still had that strange smile on his face. Once again, he glanced at Harry before answering.
"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who... well..."
Fudge shot Harry another look.
"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," Harry said quietly.
Ron, Hermione, and Bill all jumped. None of them had realized that Harry was awake. Mrs. Weasley paused in motion, halting herself from tucking Lucia back in bed at the sound of Harry's voice.
Fudge reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over his face. "And if I have?" he said, looking at Dumbledore. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place —"
"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" said Dumbledore coolly.
"You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" said Fudge quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly — hallucinations?"
"Listen to me, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, taking a step toward Fudge, and once again, he seemed to radiate that indefinable sense of power. "Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."
Fudge had taken half a step back from Dumbledore, but he looked no less stubborn. "You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before..."
Lucia immediately sat upright, wincing in pain as she did so, causing Ron and Mrs. Weasley to hurry to her side. But she paid no attention as she stared angrily at Fudge for such insinuation.
"That's rubbish."
"Excuse —"
"You're greatly excused, because everything you said was nothing but rubbish," Her voice was cold as winter, eyes piercing like they were ruined knifes and their main use was to slowly torture their victims to death. She was angry, but she laughed, "I am wrapping my head around the fact that there's actually someone so denial in this world," Hysterically. "Honestly, it's like saying that thestrals doesn't exist just because you can't see them! How... how brainless of you, Minister."
Her words became as flat as the emotion that played on her face, her once soft gaze disappeared into nothingness as it was replaced but a sharp and dull glare.
"Act as naive as you want, but that doesn't mean the truth will ever disappear," she said calculatedly, in which Fudge flinched at.
"Y-Your mind is scattered after being held hostage by a lunatic, Miss DiFiore!" he stammered uselessly. "Better if you were to rest than to be fed by lies —"
"Don't you dare talk to her like that," said Harry though gritted teeth. The way he was talking to Lucia was like he was talking to someone that didn't know between right or wrong, which, to him, was nothing but degrading.
"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" he shouted. He tried to get out of bed again, but Mrs. Weasley went around Lucia's bed and forced him back. "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy —"
Snape made a sudden movement. Snape's eyes flew back to Fudge.
"Malfoy was cleared!" said Fudge, visibly affronted. "A very old family — donations to excellent causes —"
"Macnair!" Harry continued.
"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"
"Avery — Nott — Crabbe — Goyle —"
"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" said Fudge angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore — the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too — his tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them — the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"
"Stop... stop right there, you incompetent cow." Lucia quipped coldly, anger strived through her veins as she threatened to get out of her bed if it weren't for Ron and his older brother holding her back. "You act this naïve, it's a wonder how you could even become a leader in the first place. Don't just pretend like they couldn't just lie, because they could've. They are Slytherin, they are cunning!" Adrenaline coursing through her veins, "Looked at what happened to Barty Crouch Junior — he fooled everyone effortlessly, so why can't the others do the same?"
Fudge looked as though he wanted to excuse her. He scolded gently at the girl, "Speaking to someone of authority like that —"
"You fool!" Professor McGonagall cried. "Cedric Diggory! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"
Cedric... died?
The anger she felt previously slowly diminished. Lucia sagged her shoulder, a flurry of emotions overwhelmed her in a way that was even indescribable; she was numb allover as the words echoed in her mind: Cedric Diggory is... dead?
She retreated from her prior position subconsciously, and before she knew it, she felt herself falling flat against her pillow. Even the pain she should be feeling was undetectable, for all she could think of was the fact that Cedric Diggory is dead.
While she was gone, so many things had happened in which she had never expected.
Someone was dead.
And that someone was Cedric Diggory.
Never did she predict that...
Her heart ached suddenly, for Cho, his family, for his friends...
"I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted Fudge, now matching her anger, his face purpling. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"
"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "If you accept that fact straightaway, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors —"
"Preposterous!" shouted Fudge again. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"
"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" said Dumbledore. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"
Fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage.
"The second step you must take — and at once," Dumbledore pressed on, "is to send envoys to the giants."
"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. "What madness is this?"
"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," said Dumbledore, "or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"
"You — you cannot be serious!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants — people hate them, Dumbledore — end of my career —"
"You are blinded," said Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any — and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now — take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act — and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"
"Insane," whispered Fudge, still backing away. "Mad..."
And then there was silence. Madam Pomfrey was standing frozen at the foot of Harry's bed, her hands over her mouth. Mrs. Weasley was still standing over Harry, her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from rising. Bill, Ron, and Hermione, stood surrounding Lucia's bed, staring at Fudge.
"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, "we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I — I shall act as I see fit."
Dumbledore's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but Fudge bristled as though Dumbledore were advancing upon him with a wand.
"Now, see here, Dumbledore," he said, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me —"
"The only one against whom I intend to work," said Dumbledore, "is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."
It seemed Fudge could think of no answer to this. He rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands. Finally, he said, with a hint of a plea in his voice, "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be..."
Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.
"There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."
Fudge stepped back from Snape too. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled by the ugly mark on Snape's arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."
He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped at Harry's bed.
"Your winnings," he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto Harry's bedside table. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances..."
He crammed his bowler hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at the rest of the group.
"There is work to be done," he said. "Molly... am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"
"Of course you can," said Mrs. Weasley. She was white to the lips, but she looked resolute. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper Wizarding pride."
"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," said Dumbledore. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."
"I'll go to Dad," said Bill, standing up. "I'll go now."
"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry —"
"Leave it to me," said Bill. He squeezed his hand on Lucia's shoulder, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room.
"Minerva," said Dumbledore, turning to Professor McGonagall, "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also — if she will consent to come — Madame Maxime."
Professor McGonagall nodded and left without a word.
"Poppy," Dumbledore said to Madam Pomfrey, "would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."
"Very — very well," said Madam Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left.
Dumbledore made sure that the door was closed, and that Madam Pomfrey's footsteps had died away before he spoke again. "And now," he said, "it is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius... if you could resume your usual form."
The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned into a man.
Ah.
She lost so much blood to the point she was hallucinating that the dog that laid with Harry turned into Sirius Black, the murderer? Maybe there was a leakage on her bandage...
Whatever it was, she surely was just hallucinating from either blood loss or exhaustion. Yeah, that was it, there's no way Sirius Black could actually be here in the flesh.
There was just no way...
Lucia turned her gaze up at ceiling. Sleep would surely help, right?
Mrs. Weasley screamed and leapt back from the bed.
"Sirius Black!" she shrieked, pointing at him.
"Mum, shut up!" Ron yelled. "It's okay!"
Snape had not yelled or jumped backward, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror.
"Him!" he snarled, staring at Sirius, whose face showed equal dislike. "What is he doing here?"
"He is here at my invitation," said Dumbledore, looking between them, "as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."
Dumbledore was practically asking for a near miracle. Sirius and Snape were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing.
"I will settle, in the short term," said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, "for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope for any of us."
Very slowly — but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill — Sirius and Snape moved toward each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly.
Yup, Lucia thought. I'm totally delirious right now.
"That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher — the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."
"But —" said Harry.
"You'll see me very soon, Harry," said Sirius, turning to him. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah... of course I do."
Sirius grasped his hand briefly, nodded to Dumbledore, transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone.
Blinking profusely at the door, Lucia had concluded: My imagination sure is wild.
Ha... ha... ha...
"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready... if you are prepared..."
"I am," said Snape.
He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.
"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.
It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.
"I must go downstairs," he said finally. "I must see the Diggorys. Harry — take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later."
Harry slumped back against his pillows as Dumbledore disappeared. Hermione, Ron, Lucia, and Mrs. Weasley were all looking at him. None of them spoke for a very long time.
"You've got to take the rest of your potion, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said at last. Her hand nudged the sack of gold on his bedside cabinet as she reached for the bottle and the goblet. "You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while... think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"
"I don't want that gold," said Harry in an expressionless voice. "You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it. It should've been Cedric's."
The thing against which he had been fighting on and off ever since he had come out of the maze was threatening to overpower him. He could feel a burning, prickling feeling in the inner corners of his eyes. He blinked and stared up at the ceiling.
"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Mrs. Weasley whispered.
"I told him to take the Cup with me," said Harry. Now the burning feeling was in his throat too.
Mrs. Weasley set the potion down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, and put her arms around Harry.
Lucia stared at them for a moment and felt her chest burning up. Quickly she turned her body away from the bunch, eyes prickling. If only she hadn't been so paranoid and just told them of what she had thought of Moody, perhaps this could've been prevented. It pains her to see Harry like this.
Biting back her words of an apology that she knew would uncontrollably utter from her mouth, Lucia instead silently hid her face in her hands in shame.
Why did she had to fail in everything she does? Why must she be so incompetent?
She was starting to think that maybe Snape wasn't far from the truth when he said those things about her...
As much as she tried her best to hide her sobbing state, it didn't go unnoticed by Ron.
He walked around from Harry's bed and made his way to the side of Lucia's bed that were a bit further away from the group. He took a chair and sat himself, eyes staring down at Lucia as she wept out silent tears.
It was nobody's fault except for the Death Eaters and Voldemort, yet the victims were blaming themselves instead.
Ron, though hesitant, gingerly grasped her hand in his. It was harsh rather than the soft texture he remembers. Whatever the bastard had done to her during those hours of her absence, it was more than just a hit in the head.
"Go to sleep, Lu,"
Lu... no one had called her that before...
She wanted to flutter eyes closed, forget about the world around her, but she was scared. Scared that she would be back inside that bloody trunk —
"I'm not going anywhere, whether you like it or not," assured Ron.
Lucia gazed at him and saw a look of determined consolation. Somehow, that brought her at ease.
She closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath before she squeezed Ron's hand for comfort. And just like the years before in which she needed comfort; he gave her the comfort she needed. A feeling that she had long since remembered. A feeling of familial love that she felt so foreign of.
Suddenly, there was a loud slamming noise, and Mrs. Weasley and Harry broke apart; Lucia and Ron jumped. Hermione was standing by the window. She was holding something tight in her hand.
"Sorry," she whispered.
"Your potion, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley quickly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.
Harry did as he was told. Lucia glanced back at Ron, and he flashed her a small smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. That simple gesture brought her eyes to flutter shut.
Finally, she slept.