This reputation had begun early in his career with STRIKE and he had enjoyed it at the beginning; the prestige had helped revive him from a deep depression. Yet as time passed, no amount of praise or promotions could obscure the truth from Michael. He was no great Wizard, a better fighter than a leader, and past those imperfections, questions more personal than professional plagued him.

Jeff said nothing; Michael had only trusted himself and Sarah with his secret. Kevin was a good friend, but if word got around STRIKE of what Michael had done…being demoted would be getting off easy.

"Yeah…but none of them are the most evil Witch to wave a wand," Michael said irritably. He sighed, shook his head, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Right…well anyway…professionalism…."

Michael paused. He knew if he said the name, there was no going back. He was starting something he couldn’t stop, and he was turning his back on the organization that employed him. They would find out at some point, it was what STRIKE did. They also killed people for a living. But at that moment, Michael only cared about finding out one thing.

 “Luna. Luna Lovegood. You know her?”

“Harry.”  Sirius’ voice was stronger than Harry remembered. Harry looked him up and down – by and large he looked almost exactly like he had the last time Harry had seen him. Yet now he seemed happier, stronger. The only time Harry had seen him like this was during the short time between the suggestion Harry come live with him and its demise when Wormtail escaped.

Michael changed into his nightclothes, lay down on his bed with his hands behind his head, and shut his eyes. It was painful, being here. In many ways this was one of the best jobs he had ever had with STRIKE: He had a safe home, good food, mostly friendly company, and a passive primary mission. Michael's stomach churned unhappily. This wasn’t going to work.

“Michael,” Dumbledore said very seriously, once again fixing that look on him.

“Yes, sir?” Michael asked, wondering what else he could have to say to him.

“Be good to Luna Lovegood. She has not had an easy life.”

The man laughed loudly, slightly hysterically. “Good people? Good people? Well yes, I have killed – and do enjoy killing – good people. Most of them are weak. But Michael's not one of them. You think he’s a saint? Wait till he turns on you. Wait till he sacrifices you to Voldemort. Wait till he makes fun of your new, expensive shoes…but especially wait till he sacrifices you to Voldemort. That's the worst part.”

“I’m not a doormat,” Luna said easily, smiling at Sarah. “I don’t accommodate him because I’m afraid he’ll leave otherwise. I do it because I love him too. And…because I think he deserves a little silly fun. He’ll have to grow up eventually, we all will…but I’m happy to let him be a boy for a bit longer.”

“He just turned eighteen Luna,” Sarah chuckled. “Doesn’t that make him a man?”

“No,” Luna replied. “His actions do.”

After hesitating as long as he could bear, Michael opened his eyes and looked at Luna. She seemed to sense this and raised her face to his. Her breath was quick and shallow, but when she opened her eyes and looked into Michael’s, he saw, for the first time in seven years, all of Luna Lovegood looking back at him.

 It was curious: Michael had fought countless duels in his life, against Lord Voldemort, against Owen Stetnas, against Severus Snape. And yet it was this battle, a battle in which no one was even in any danger, that made Michael more nervous than any other ever had.

“I know what you’ve done,” Owen said quietly but clearly. He continued his unbroken eye contact and knew Voldemort had begun to search his thoughts. “I want to know how.”

“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” He paused for a very serious moment as Michael and Luna stared into each other’s eyes. “Love never ends. I now declare you husband and wife.

“I don't think so,” Luna said, hiccupping a little. She appealed to Ron and Harry, who crossed their arms, smirking and swaying in their support of her.

“Come on!” Michael cried. “A hamburger is so  a sandwich!”

“I have one more question for you,” Narcissa said, moving closer to Luna, who couldn’t help but flinch, sure she was about to be cursed for killing the woman’s sister. “You and your…group are friendly with an Auror named Nymphadora Tonks, are you not?”

"Tonight, we’re going to decide our fate," Luna said. " I have a funny feeling, that after tonight, nothing will ever be the same.” 

“Elysina knew this,” Xeno nodded. “She knew if she were to have the wand she wanted, she would have to use a material no one had ever used before. But why stop at a new material, she asked. Why not a new medium?”

“The Chimeras are good, but the Dragons didn’t just win the lottery to get in the championship!”


“Didn’t they, though?” Harry asked  fairly, looking apologetically at Michael, who rolled his eyes. 

“You're talking about an alliance?” Michael said quickly. “Between STRIKE, the Aurors, and the Order?”

“Harry,” Luna said very softly. She stepped forward, next to Harry and crouched down next to him, pulling his head into her shoulder, “he’s gone on to his next great adventure. He did it to protect you. Harry…he really loved you.”

 Had it really been three years?

Michael rubbed the back of his neck, feeling slightly embarrassed now. He often spited STRIKE for so ruthlessly turning against him, yet here he was forsaking the chance to finish this great evil because he didn’t like them. To be fair, though, they had nearly killed his wife.

“The studded tail,” Luna whispered, still gazing at the animal, which was now lumbering over to them. “Four legged, bronze, thick skin, five feet high, cru – crumpled horn. It’s a....”

 The mingled fury and sorrow on Andromeda’s face was a little heartbreaking to see.

“So I tracked them down where I could, picking them off alone or in small groups,” she went on, her voice losing its heavy emotion and becoming more and more toneless as she spoke. “Sometimes I just killed them when I found them. Sometimes I hurt them, then I killed them. None of them got away once I had found them, though.”

 “What do you want to know?” Desmond asked politely, knowing what Michael really meant.

“Everything,” Michael replied. “But I know how STRIKE operates, so that's out of the question. So we’ll start with a few easy ones. First off, what are people expecting when we get there? Are we still traitorous rogues or have we gotten past that?”

 “That is the difference between us, Michael,” Staffon said, a bit sadly. “Among us protectors, there are some who are not lucky enough to have someone to protect, so instead we fight for something.”

 “He said that while you may have gone off to be a ‘hotshot spy’ again, he’s been putting in a lot of work with the Aurors and now knows spells that…can do a lot of damage to a collarbone…?” Ginny trailed off in confusion, unaware of Michael's previous injury and lingering anger.

“God I’ve missed you,” Jeff said happily, leaning on the couch behind Michael.