Chapter Forty-Nine: The Lightning Struck Tower (corresponds with POTP Chapter 33)
A few days later, Luci received a response from Harry. She had asked him to meet her in the Astronomy Tower, the one he'd mentioned from his nightmares, and he had answered,
"No, Luci. Pick another place. I miss you. Love, Harry"
She smiled at his adorable handwriting and sent the owl on its way, empty-handed. She felt a little guilty about not scribbling even a quick reply, but whether he knew it or not, he needed to go back to that place. Just like she had needed to go back to her stupid high school, and back to that disgusting room with the cage. It was necessary for his future. So she simply tucked the note into her new oak desk and went about unpacking her boxes.
London was the best place in the world to find furniture. She had gone into numerous eccentric little shops, sometimes with Tonks or Fleur in tow, and found what she thought to be precious antiques, but the British had a different idea of what was ancient. If it was made two hundred years ago, why, that was modern! So Luci had ended up with some beautiful pieces, without hemorrhaging her savings account too much.
Perhaps she could find some work in the interim between now and her license being reinstated… She would look into it Tuesday, after she saw Harry in the Tower.
She arrived before he did. It was yet another new area of the castle for her, and the wonders never ceased. Rapt, she ambled slowly into the massive, round parapet, out of breath from climbing the steep spiral staircase. The turret had battlements, which surprised her, and she studied them briefly before making her way over to the railing that looked out over the grounds of Hogwarts.
"Why here?" came Harry's voice.
Luci rounded hurriedly, excited to see him, and chirped, "Hi."
"Why here?" he repeated, his teeth clenched.
His irritation didn't surprise her, and she said calmly, "Because you needed to come back. To get rid of the nightmares."
"That's not your call to make, Luci," he seethed, perhaps a little angrier than she'd anticipated. "You can't just drag me up here and expect me to be ready for something just because you think I should be."
She shook her head at him. She'd made a mistake.
"I didn't mean…" she whimpered. "It's just the only thing that you haven't come to terms with. I thought you might like the opportunity…"
"What the bloody hell would make you think that? I watched someone I loved fall from that window and die!"
Harry looked so racked with agony that she felt sympathy stabbing at her from all sides.
"You… you're kind of getting closure in a lot of places, and I thought…" she started, but there was nothing to say that would make it all right. "I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry. But… neither of us can go forward the way that we… were. I haven't been whole, because I've hated myself too much, and I want to give you someone who is whole. Someone who can love you the way that you deserve to be loved."
He was staring at her in disbelief, and guilt washed over her, but then he waved his hand, as if he thought that she had more to say. And she supposed that she did.
"We were talking about trying to forgive ourselves," she continued cautiously. "So when I was at home, I went to the place where I tried to kill myself. And I sat there. For hours and hours. Crying and trying to figure out how to forgive something like that… Finally, I just promised that I'd do it eventually. And… the other day, after I left here, I went to see my father, and I told him that I'd forgiven him. And I don't know how true it is yet, but I've decided to do it. I've decided to leave the past… in the past. To turn my back on regret. So that you and I, we can just… be together, be happy."
She took a step closer to him, concluding, "But when you told me you were still having nightmares, I knew that you needed to face your demons too. It's just too soon, I guess…"
Harry sucked in a breath. "No, you're right. I do have to face it eventually… and forgive Dumbledore and Snape and myself and your git brother… all of us."
"I shouldn't have rushed you," she apologized meekly. "Or surprised you."
"You tend to go about things the wrong way," he grumbled, and Luci immediately hung her head, ashamed to have made yet another misstep with him. Would she ever get anything right?
"But I know that you have good intentions," he appeased, but she could only nod, wishing that she could take it all back.
Then, he was coming towards her, into the room, his jaw set with determination, and she hoped that maybe she hadn't been so wrong after all…?
Once he was next to her, she reached for his hand, feeling those familiar sparks at the contact. "That nightmare – you were looking down from the window, yeah?"
Harry gave her a sharp bob of his head, and they walked together in that direction. He had slammed his eyes shut, and his breath was coming more rapidly. She wanted to tell him that they could leave now, but instead, she asked, "And you're still having it?"
"Yes," he huffed.
"Every night?"
"Every night."
They were standing there, and Luci was looking out over the grounds again. But his eyes were still closed, his brow still furrowed with recollection. She didn't want to move him, but she felt the need to embrace him, so she stepped behind him and folded her arms around his thin body. Her head fell between his warm shoulder blades, and she pressed herself to him, nearly melting, but managing to breathe encouragingly, "No more nightmares. No more guilt. No more shame. I'm done with mine, and you're done with yours. You are loved more than you could ever know. And those of us who love you, we don't blame you for anything, so you have to stop blaming yourself."
"It's not that easy," his voice finally erupted hoarsely.
"No, it's not easy," she agreed, knowing her own struggle. "But deciding to do it – that's the beginning."
Harry didn't respond this time, so she took his cue for silence, and they both simply stood there for a long while. Luci spent the moments relishing in his heat, his rhythmic breathing, his coppery scent. She guessed that half an hour may have passed by the time he wriggled around inside of her arms, coming to face her. She met his eyes, but she didn't speak, and neither did he, for what seemed like many minutes, until he said poignantly, "I love you, Luci."
Her heart fluttered and she whispered, "I want to be worthy of that love."
"You are."
"I will be," she promised.
"There's one more bit of closure that I need," he replied, and at her questioning look, finished, "I need to visit my parents' graves. But I need the Pass to do it."
"It's yours," permitted Luci without pause. "I'll wait here for you until you get back."
"No, I want you there," he insisted.
She frowned uneasily. "Harry, are you sure? Your parents' graves?"
He scoffed at her. "You act like you're an intruder in my life! You're not. You're part of it. Can't you see that? I would have slugged anyone else who tried this Tower stunt of yours."
"But it's such a personal… thing," maintained Luci.
He couldn't possibly know how he would feel when he got there, and if he would want her there… for that. She didn't want to infringe anymore than she already had. She couldn't keep assuming.
At her diffidence, he sighed and went on zealously, "Even the stuff that it seems impossible for you to understand, you get it. Like the nightmares. And you haven't lost both of your parents, but it's like you know exactly how it feels. Everything that's happened to me, it's made me so… isolated. But I'm not alone with you. And I need you there."
It was poetic and perfect, and she was convinced.
"When?"
"Now," he said. "But I need Ron and Hermione there too."
"Then let's go get them," she consented, moving to leave the room.
"Wait," he stopped her. "I haven't greeted you properly."
"Huh?" she started to ask, but he'd kissed her in the midst of the word, wrapping his arms around her, even tangling his right hand in her silky hair.
Tiny fireworks began popping inside of her veins, igniting exactly where they'd left off outside of the common room a few days ago. But her memory never did the sensations justice when they were assaulting her again. Each time, it was like new, like she could never be prepared for the magnificence.
When Harry pulled away, she panted absently, "Oh, take me now…"
She was being facetious. Sort of. But he turned bright red. Therefore, she turned bright red.
"I meant…" she stuttered. "I was just… kidding."
"Can't kid about that," he breathed.
"Mmm," agreed Luci. Then she cleared her throat. "I just… god, I'm sorry."
He took a step away from her and she felt a wave of humiliation.
Until he showered her in relief by repeating her own words to her. "No, it's just that… It's not really the best location."
Then, he flashed her a huge grin, and she laughed. Perhaps she hadn't come off as a harlot after all. Oh, if only he knew… His experience far outweighed hers. She just had less… discipline. Yes, that was it.
"Then we shall restrain ourselves," she said severely, in her best British accent. "For now."
He shook his head, took her hand, and led her out of the Astronomy Tower, where she would be less tempted, or at least be expected to show some restraint.
It was extremely cold as Luci stood with Hermione and Ron under the huge tree in the graveyard. The three of them had been watching Harry for a long time, as he kneeled in the grass next to his parents' headstones. He had sobbed at length, and Luci's heart had shattered, witnessing his body shuddering with pain. But she hadn't gone to him. Hermione had practically forbid it.
Presently, he was just rocking back and forth on his heels, and as his back was to them, they couldn't tell if he was still crying. The only sound was the wind and Luci's teeth chattering.
"Here," said Hermione, waving her wand, and a quilt appeared around Luci's shoulders.
"Thanks," Luci smiled faintly, as the brunette conjured a blanket of her own.
"Ron?" she asked her boyfriend, but he just shook his head, his eyes never leaving his best friend, who sat nearly seven yards away from them.
"Do you think he's okay?" asked Luci timidly. "Should we go check on him?"
"He'll let us know when he's ready," assured Hermione, and Luci clenched her jaw in impatience.
But sure enough, it wasn't long before he turned, beckoning with a wild gesture.
"I'll go," Hermione piped up immediately, and then was on her way.
Luci, trying not to resent her, glanced sideways at Ron, but he was staring straight ahead.
"Ron…" she began slowly. "Do you think we'll ever be friends? Me and you?"
He turned his head to frown at her. "Harry loves you. Of course, we're friends."
"Yeah?" she asked uncertainly.
But before he could answer, they noticed Hermione waving at them in summons. Luci took off right away, and as she neared, she could see that Harry's beautiful face was tear-streaked, his green eyes glowing with emotion.
"Luci, come here," he said to her, and she adhered, squatting next to him.
"Are you okay?" she pleaded anxiously.
"Yeah, fantastic," he chirped, taking her cold hand in his.
She looked at him uncertainly.
"You sure, mate?" questioned Ron, who had joined them.
"You are acting a little bizarre, Harry," she nodded, noticing that his jeans were soaked from sitting in the grass.
He grinned at her, squeezing her fingers. "I feel bizarre. You know, Ron, Hermione, the pair of you have basically gotten me through my life? I had no one, absolutely no one, and you both accepted me and stuck with me through all of it."
"Well, we love you, Harry…" answered Hermione slowly.
"I'm all right," he promised the three of them, as they all must look rather perplexed. "Really. Just… I feel like a teenager all the sudden! My parents, they're gone, but they'll never really be gone, you know?"
Luci wasn't sure what to say, but Ron plopped down across from them, sighing, "Harry, I've been awful. I've lost my mum, but you've lost both of your parents. I've had no right to be so harsh. To any of you."
At this last part, he'd peered briefly at Luci, and she wondered if it was his conclusion to the conversation that she'd started under the tree. In any case, her heart buoyed with affection for him.
"Of course you had the right," argued Harry. "Loss is loss."
No one spoke for a long moment, but then Harry murmured abruptly, "Not even a hint of a scar."
Luci followed his gaze to her wrist, which he was caressing softly, and concurred, "Nope."
"Lucky," muttered Ron bitterly, running his hand over his marked face. "No disfigurement for you."
Hermione shook her head. "Visible memories, Ron."
"Visible memories," mused Luci. "I love that."
"Scars have their purposes," contributed Harry, but he was looking at the gravestones again.
"Come on, my heart," Luci coaxed him. "If you're ready, I mean. We should get you warm and dry."
"I'm ready," he told her, struggling to his feet.
