Hello readers! This is a fanfiction for Harry Potter. I've always loved the series, although I've lost respect for JK Rowling, haha. This is about Luna Lovegood and Blaise Zabini. Before I start, I would like to make a few things clear, regarding the story and its content.
1. I do not own the series or the characters. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, and this story is fanfiction with a few elements from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
2. This is rated M or Mature for intense, graphic material. It is dark. There will be non-con sex, Stockholm syndrome, self-harm and drinking, torture and death. Please do not read if you are sensitive/have triggers regarding these topics. Also please note that I do not support these and will not be glorifying them. The rape actions will not be excused, and this will not be a romantic relationship.
3. This might be out of character for Luna and Blaise. I decided to write a story that regarded the fact that they were prisoners of the Death Eaters, but in different ways. Luna is taken prisoner, but at the beginning of the school year, and Blaise will have joined the Death Eaters in this fanfiction. I will include persepctives from both.
4. Optimistically, this will have two parts and an epilogue. We'll see, because I have other works in progress and it depends on my motivation and other commitments.
5. Finally, my writing style is not the best. It's not as sophisticated as some of the other writers, but I will try my best not to get too repetitive. Also, I don't have a beta reader, so please excuse any typos.
Please enjoy and review Waning Moon, a Harry Potter fanfiction!
When the Death Eaters stormed the train, Luna wasn't surprised. Her father never censored his conversations with her, and Luna knew exactly what was happening. And contrary to what most people thought, she wasn't stupid. She was in Ravenclaw, after all. She simply chose to rely on animals rather than her brain. Muggles and wizards were being targeted. No one was safe.
A hazy solemnity had surrounded the students, and their auras made them prime hosts for Wrackspurts. She wanted to share the special dance she knew to ward the niggling creatures away, but she refrained herself. There was no tolerance for that.
She sat in a compartment with Neville and Ginny, but their conversations weren't filled with the easygoing chatter it usually had. Luna missed Harry and Hermione, and Ron a bit too. She hoped they were okay.
The bubble of dullness that was September first was popped, as a black-robed, silver-masked Death Eater appeared in their compartment. Ginny screamed, and Neville shushed her. Students outside cowered, trying to inch away, but more figures blocked them, barricading them, suffocating them. The Death Eater grabbed Luna.
She didn't struggle. There was no use. No reason to anger them. Perhaps a Blibbering Humdinger would come, as they did when one was in distress. It was too risky for a signal cry of distress, she decided, so she put up no resistance as the Death Eater gripped her arm. They Disapparated, leaving behind Ginny and Neville shouting defiantly.
My trunk, Luna thought, but she brushed away the trivial worry. The indignant screams and the scared pleas for mercy still rang in her ears. They had clearly come for her, why scare the rest?
They stood outside a tall, shrouded house. It was right next to a forest (full of Nargles). There were three Death Eaters, and they nudged her forwards, where the house loomed. Inside, the Dark Mark and the Slytherin crest were emblazoned on banners. Everything was musty.
They led her to a large room, windowless, and shoved her to her knees. They finally removed their masks and took their seats in plain armchairs along a wall.
Luna studied their faces, noting each one. She recognized them all, from their Wanted posters. Antonin Dolohov, Fenrir Greyback, and-
Blaise Zabini.
She knew of him. She knew that he was a year ahead of her, in Slytherin. She had been attending school with a future Death Eater. Disgust curdled inside her.
Dolohov spoke, seemingly the leader. "Hello, Miss Lovegood. Welcome."
She stared at the ground. 'Luna, my love,' her father had told her. 'If you obey, they'll always show mercy. Do what they say, and you'll be safe.'
Her wand, usually tucked behind her ear, was in her trunk on the train, as were her Gurdyroots. She was completely defenseless. "I'm sure you're wondering why you're here," Dolohov continued. "Well, your father has been supporting Harry Potter in his ridiculous magazine. Not only that, you're close with Potter. Therefore, you can be used as a bargaining chip in many, many ways. So we're detaining you. And if you behave, we might even let you go. Not too much torture- don't want to spill too much pure blood. We also don't want to mar that pretty little face, now, do we?"
Luna stayed very still.
"Speaking of." He pulled out a knife. She flinched, but he only smirked and began cleaning his nails. "This location is ideal because it's abandoned. So we can use you for Zabini's rite of passage."
The Slytherin stood up. He looked bored.
"Greyback was eager to have you, but Zabini assured him that he could do the job," Dolohov gloated. "So, Zabini, by all means. Rape her. Then you'll be fully pledged."
Luna's head snapped up. "No."
She didn't want sex, had never wanted sex. Her father, although pureblood, never imposed arranged marriage or betrothals or other customs he deemed silly. She had no interest in sex. But Blaise removed her shoes, socks, skirt. He untied her Ravenclaw tie, unbuttoned her shirt, unhooked her bra. He used her tie to bind her wrists to her waist, each movement painstakingly drawn out, making Luna physically ache with fear and anger.
He dragged her underwear down her legs. Luna felt tears drip down her face. Her body shook. "Please," she begged. "Blaise."
Blaise looked away.
He pressed her body down, his chest against hers. And then he sheathed himself inside her.
Luna screamed. She felt like she was being torn apart, physically and mentally. He kissed her, perhaps to try to quell her, but she thrashed. She would fight. Blaise Zabini, whom she had never spoken to before, was so far inside her she thought her pelvis would shatter.
When he began to move, in and out, each thrust going in deeper, each one more painful, she screamed and sobbed. She heard other Ravenclaw girls talking about sex (never to her), how it hurt at first but was so, so enjoyable.
Nothing would ever heal her.
When he moved his lips from hers, strong arms pinning her down, Blaise moved and pressed kisses to her chest. Her body shook under his. She met his eyes once, and there was nothing in them. No passion or feeling, not even sadism or glee.
Then he removed himself from her. Stood up and dressed.
All through it, his face remained impassive. Cold, hard stone. A mask of no emotions.
She lay there, gasping. He stepped away. She was stripped down, raw, nothing, nothing but a sex toy for Blaise Zabini to use, nothing but a body for the Death Eaters to pawn off. She had been used. Her body ached, blood smeared in her legs. Dolohov was laughing, the sound piercing Luna's ears. "She's your pet now, Zabini. Great job, my boy. Bring her to the dungeon."
He brought Luna to a cell, bent shackles around her wrists and waist, chaining her to a sitting position. Yet more chains connected her to the wall. She couldn't move, like a scolded dog. That's what she was. That's what they all were. They were the Dark Lord's dogs. Pets. And now he had one. Now he was master to one, the Hogwarts insanity.
He was assigned to this pit, because it was near a forest for runaway frequents. Blaise knew it was because he had no family ties to the organization, was a new member, had to prove himself. Which was twisted given the circumstances he joined. He wasn't bitter. There were prisoners brought in daily. He had a job to do.
This was just another task. Another chore.
That's what he told himself.
He strode out of the cell without looking back. Went to his room. Sat on the bed.
And began hating himself very, very much.
Luna woke up with her head throbbing, her throat sore. And movement of her legs sent a sharp pang through her. A house-elf was sponging her forehead. "Hello, miss," the elf squeaked. "My name is Tubsy."
Luna nodded, trying to smile. But how could she, when her world had been shattered? "Food," she managed to croak. "Please."
Tubsy shook her head. "Healing potions, miss." She fed them to Luna, explaining each one. Slowly, her headache dissipated, her legs stopped hurting, her throat lost its soreness. But nothing stopped the hole in her soul. She hated how she lost what was hers, how she never gave consent, that she lost her virginity to a man who took it as a prize, as a duty.
Tubsy held the last potion. "This one... tis a nasty one," she mumbled. "I wish I couldn't give it to you, but..." With a squeal, she set the vial down and banged her head against the wall. "Bad! Bad! Bad Tubsy!" she shrieked. She stopped after five, and stared at Luna with wide eyes. "The potion sustains life, miss. You won't need to eat."
"Why would I need such a potion?" Luna asked tiredly.
"They don't want to keep unchaining yous, miss, to relieve yourself," Tubsy said. "You'll live."
Luna accepted the potion. She didn't feel like fighting, and especially not with the one person who was civil to her. Tubby, although being an elf, was more human than her captors.
And then he walked in. Tubsy bowed and vanished with a crack, and Luna was alone. Blaise opened her cell door and sat down across from her.
After a beat, Luna began straining against the chains, the shackles cutting and digging into her naked body. She would not obey her captors. She would die for herself. She was not to be used. She was a person. But her bonds restricted her. She was crying as she screamed, "Why? Why?"
Blaise's face didn't change. "Why, what?"
"Why did you join them?" asked Luna, speaking as clearly and calmly as she could. "Why are we here? What is happening? Who else joined? Why did you volunteer to rape me?" She hated that her voice broke on the last two words.
"I chose the winning side. War is inevitable, it is coming. The Dark Lord will triumph. I choose victory. If that makes me a coward or a monster, so be it." He paused. "As for you, I volunteered because Greyback wanted you. He would have torn you apart. He would have made it infinitely more painful, drawn it out to make you suffer."
"But why do I have to be your pet?"
Blaise sighed. "Would you like to me to brand you with the Dark Mark right now? Then you won't have to be treated like this. They want to degrade any Potter supporter. They want to downplay any actions taken by the Order. Or do you want me to take you to Malfoy Manor? They have a personal brothel, a row of beds with more girls. I'm eighteen and you're sixteen. In there, they have a thirteen year old who is taken by thirty-and-forty-year-olds. So would you rather be theirs, or mine?"
"But why can't you have hope for what you believe? For what's right?" Luna pressed.
Blaise scoffed, the first sign of emotion from, even it it was derisive. "A dangerous time to have faith. For those on Potter's side, those who blindly trust him, they're going to need a hell of a lot more than hope."
"What about your moral code, Blaise?" Luna tried, temper rising. How corrupted they all were.
"Everyone has something worth protecting and sacrificing for. Even if it makes me a monster, I'll do whatever it takes. So you think I'm a monster, Luna?"
She didn't hesitate. "Yes, or course."
He began pacing, getting slightly agitated. His handsome face was hidden in the shadows. "I could do a lot worse, you know. I could make you serve in my bed every night. I could give you alcohol, violate you in your sleep. But I won't."
"You raped me!" Luna screamed. "Do you want a prize for not doing worse, Blaise? You are a monster! You're one of them!"
Blaise smirked, showing that arrogant Slytherin he had been at school. "You should thank whatever god you live by that I'm your master. It's intriguing to know, however, that the dreamy confusion was just a facade."
Luna sat back. "Can you at least unchain me?"
She was surprised when he raised his wand. Her chains vanished. And then she lunged at him; lunged for the door.
Blaise caught her, he was physically stronger, so he was able to pin her arms behind her back and set her down; her chains reappeared. Luna sighed, she knew it wouldn't have worked. But she was going to take every chance.
He met her eyes, a bit of admiration and shock lingered. But he shook his head. "What were you trying to accomplish? That would be suicide." He closed her cell door and walked out. Luna hoped he wouldn't be back.
Days and nights passed; they ran together. As she received no meals, she could not count the days. She slept (and vomited from the nightmares), and cried. It was stupid, mourning her situation and hoping to escape. Her only comfort was Tubsy, who replenished her potions. Luna begged her for a Dreamless Sleep potion, but Tubsy could not smuggle it to her and work around her binding orders.
Luna also was in shock. Her Blibbering Humdinger had failed her. All of her incantations, dances, and motions had failed her. No one could help her. She was alone, and that was almost as heartbreaking and earth-shattering as her circumstances. It was a cruel introduction to the reality that everyone else had been living in.
The cell was cold. Luna gave up trying to breathe on her limbs to warm herself, because her bare body was pressed against the cold cell with iron shackles. She huddled against the wall, because that was all she could do. The chains were just another way to humiliate her. Often, there was another prisoner or two, but they left almost as quickly as they came. Killed, she supposed.
After what seemed like centuries, Tubsy unlocked her chains. She waved her long fingers, and Luna's skin was pristine, her hair was braided with strands of silver, and a set of lacy black lingerie appeared on her. "You is going to a revelry, miss. The Dark Lord has asked Death Eaters of all locations to meet him at Malfoy Manor. Master Blaise is taking Miss Luna with him," Tubsy whispered, looking fearful.
Blaise entered, every inch radiating leisure and grace. Luna raised her hooded eyes, her head had been bowed. He extended a hand, every inch the master summoning a pet. Luna tried to move, but after days of misuse and coldness, her limbs failed her. They shook when she put support on them, and she stayed seated. Tubsy bowed deeply to Blaise, and nodded to Luna with a hint of a smile. Tubsy vanished.
Blaise wasn't wearing his customary Death Eater robes, but a black button-down and black pants. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal a corded, veiny forearm, and a Dark Mark writhing on his skin. She tried not to stare at it and focused on moving.
She supposed she could crawl, but before she could debate the merits, he picked her up as if she weighed nothing. Luna stiffened, as his Dark Mark was pressing against her thigh. "If you let me brand you, you wouldn't have to dress like that."
"Never," she breathed, her voice also weak.
They Apparated away, appearing in front of a mansion. "This is Malfoy Manor. If you do as I say, you won't get killed. If you try to escape, I cannot make an excuse for you," Blaise warned.
Luna tried not to balk and shake as they walked through the crowd of Death Eaters. So much evil in one place. These were experienced killers, torturers; people feared them. She kept her eyes down, tried to be invisible. But her body was almost fully on display, and she was being carried through a sea of black. Her skin was almost as pale as some of theirs, but they were covered.
Blaise brought them to chairs in the back. He sat down, setting her on his lap. Luna raised her head quickly, did a quick scan of the room. The Dark Lord wasn't there. She let out a tiny sigh.
It twisted her gut, sitting on the lap of her rapist. "Head down, Luna," Blaise said, pressing her head to the crook of his neck, almost condescending. He snatched a flask of whiskey from the tray of a passing house-elf.
"Does everyone keep pets?" Luna asked.
He took a swig of his drink. "Yes, in crude ways. A show of power, I suppose. They want to show that rebels can easily be disposed. Death, sex, torture. If you have a pretty face, you're a pet."
"What about the other prisoners at the house? Why am I the only pet?" she continued.
"They have deemed you the only one attractive enough to share a Death Eater's bed. Their words," Blaise said, now with a bit of contempt.
Luna wasn't sure how to interpret his tone, but she asked, "Why did you bring me here? No one else brought their pet."
Blaise swirled the alcohol. "Greyback and Dolohov stayed behind. You would have been alone with them-" He broke his words off.
Two boys approached them. Luna knew them: Slytherin, same year as Blaise. Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott. Their moon-white faces shone with cruel amusement at seeing Luna. She met the gray eyes of Draco, her biggest Hogwarts bully. They could have been twins. She shifted, the tip of her braid brushing against the strap of her underwear.
Blaise placed a hand on her thigh. The gesture was clear in its intention: She's mine. It was possessive, claiming. "Did you need something?"
"We just came to see if the rumors were true," Theodore drawled. "The joke of Hogwarts is your pet, Zabini. You're lucky, though. Never realized she had such a good body. Let me have a night with her."
Blaise responded, sounding bored, "Fuck your own whore."
Luna looked at him, almost shocked. This was the first crude thing she'd heard him say. There was a smirk on his face, the cold smile chilling her.
Draco leered at her. "She's pureblooded, too." He reached for her, reached for her chest.
"Don't touch her," Blaise said, a subtle, growling undertone to his words.
For a second, Draco and Theodore blinked. But then they grinned, giving a last glance at Luna and retreating.
Blaise kept his hand on her leg for hours. They sat in silence, watching Death Eaters drink and speak with one another. Blaise himself drank for the majority of the night, sipping on a Clear Head potion a few times so as to not get drunk. And when they brought out hooded prisoners; Muggles, for entertainment, Blaise stood up, keeping Luna on the chair and joining in on the killings. Luna closed her eyes.
Luna was put in her cell, Blaise leaving with no further words. She was exhausted, slumping back, chains rustling. As of then, there was only one other prisoner.
"Luna?"
"Dean?" she gasped, voice cracking.
Dean Thomas stared back at her in horror. "What the hell happened to you, Luna? Who did this to you?" the Gryffindor asked.
"Tell me why you're here first," Luna demanded.
"I'm a Muggle-born. On the run. They caught me and know I'm close to Harry. Now tell me what happened to you, Luna."
Luna told him the story, finishing off with the revelry she had just come from. Her stomach lurched at the memory of burning flesh, the anguished screams, the jets of light. Blaise had only performed the Cruciatus Curse and the Killing Curse, unlike the others, who were more sadistic.
"That son of a bitch," Dean ground out. "Him and the others. All of them."
Blaise walked in, went to unlock Dean's cell door. Dean lunged at him, as Luna had. "You motherfucking snake! You bastard! Your mother was a whore, why the fuck would you make Luna one?"
There was a bang, and Dean flew back, hit the wall. He crumpled to the ground. Blaise yanked him up by his neck, and without warning, punched Dean in the nose. Luna yelped. "Don't ever speak to me again, Mudblood," Blaise snarled.
"Fuck y-"
Blaise jammed his wand into Dean's forehead. "Think about whether you want to finish that sentence," he said with deadly, knife-sharp calm. "Move. You're being interrogated. Tell us about Potter and we'll let you go."
Luna wasn't sure why she was shocked. He was a Death Eater. That was what they did. Tubsy came to take her for a bath, and she wondered why she was afforded this luxury, when before Tubsy had used magic to clean her. She was still to weak to walk, since she had not used her limbs and they were sore from the chains. So Tubsy Apparated up to a bathroom. Luna wanted to cry with relief at the warm water and steam, but it seemed silly. The trivial things she had loved seemed so stupid now.
When she returned, Dean was kneeling in his cell- bruised, bloody, groaning. Tubsy locked her back up (with remorse and apology in her eyes) and left without further words. "Dean!" Luna cried. "What did they do?"
"I'm fine. They asked about Harry's plans and such. Not that he told me. Luckily, they didn't have any Veritaserum on hand. Are you o-"
"Yes," she said quickly, not wanting him to know that while he had been tortured, she'd gotten a bath. "Why don't you just tell them what you know? Maybe they'll let you go."
''Never," Dean said adamantly.
"Haven't you started losing hope?"
"It seems that there is nothing to do but hope."
Blaise often settled with a bottle at the end of the day. He used drink to drown out his evils. His sins. He liked beer and mead and wine and rum, but he liked whiskey the best. Whatever was available. One time, he'd gotten so desperate, he'd downed a bottle of butterbeer with Pepperup Potion. He needed that release. He took care to have a Clear Head potion on hand, but he let himself drink himself into oblivion.
His days at the manor were pointless, but he didn't care. He didn't care about any of them.
He was that type of self-serving person who could and would play each side to save his own skin. He didn't have any true loyalties, with the exception to one. Don't feel anything. It's better that way. He didn't care. Damn it all to hell. They could all die in the fucking pit and he would be glad he lived to see another day.
Luna had been at the manor's dungeon for two months when she was moved.
It was early November, and unbearably cold. Dean passed through the bars his ragged sweater, but Luna could only awkwardly twist around her chains to get it on her, like a blanket. Her thin lingerie might as well have not been there.
A new influx of people occupied all of the cells. Some of the cells had six or seven people. Luna was kept in her own cell, but the ten other cages were filled with prisoners. That earned her bitter glares, as if she wasn't chained. She was the only 'pet', but she didn't allow herself to be embarrassed. It wasn't her fault. No one spoke, no one moved.
Then Fenrir Greyback came in. It was close to the full moon, Luna guessed, because the bulky man looked feral and sickly. Everyone cringed, looked away. He prowled up to Luna's cell.
It seemed everyone watched with bated breaths. He broke her chains with his bare hands, ignoring her cries of shock. "Come, girl," he growled.
Luna didn't want to tell him that she couldn't walk. Her legs were frozen and weak. He should have known that; she had been chained and it wasn't like she could run circles around the dungeon. With a snarl, he tossed her over his shoulder and ascended the steps.
She mustered all of her courage and asked, "Where are we going? Why am I being moved?"
He scoffed. "Goin' to Zabini's bedroom. You're 'is pet, after all. Need more room for them Mudbloods in the dungeon. You're lucky e's your master, you are. I'd have my way and bitten you if 'e 'adn't told me to stay away." He opened a door and threw her inside the room. Luna could see his smile as he closed the door. "Nighty-night."
She was lucky, she supposed. His room was warmer, the hard floor was clean, it was larger. The room was dark, like the dungeon, but she could make out the objects. A bed, tucked in the corner. A small table, with a few vials of potions and bottles of alcohol. A chair. A door, which she guessed led to a closet, and another open door, which was the bathroom. Everything was plain, there was no decoration or adornment.
Luna crawled across the floor. She couldn't stand. The bathroom had a shower stall, a sink, a toilet, and a cabinet. The cabinet held a toothbrush and paste, a jar, and a straight razor.
Most wizards, like her father, used an enchanted one or a shaving charm. But this one sat; cool, slim, and sharp; unforgiving. It was a Muggle razor. She picked up the blade.
Could she do it? Would it make her feel better? As a retribution? She wasn't sure why she was valued so much by the Death Eaters- they could have just killed her. She could punish them.
But to do so would punish her father, if she ever got out. It would punish her friends. It would punish the animals that needed her- the beautiful, ethereal creatures that needed her. (They didn't need her, though, she needed them.)
She set down the razor and crawled out of the bathroom. She sat, propped against the bed, and let her head fall against it. She almost moaned in ecstasy. But then she stiffened, as she realized that moving to Blaise's room would not be the best idea.
Would she be expected to have sex with him? She wasn't sure if she could do it willingly. She knew she couldn't. He would take her by force. To do that a second time would tear her apart. To do that a third time, she would use the razor.
She looked up, and Blaise stood there. He had closed the door. She tensed, and she realized that she was afraid.
The thought was almost comical. She was afraid? She had witnessed death at nine years old. She wasn't afraid of much. But she was scared of this eighteen-year-old Death Eater, who could kill without blinking, who could torture without emotion, who could rape without feeling.
She didn't jump at him. She had no strength. And even if she did, she wouldn't. The fight was leaving Luna Lovegood.
"Get up," he said.
"I can't," she admitted. "You should know that, though, since you're the one who chained me to the wall. I couldn't move."
He set her on his bed. She cringed, waiting for him to remove her underwear.
He didn't. He sat down on his chair and said, "Ask questions. I assume you have many. I'll answer all of them."
Luna creased her brow, wondering what he was doing. "Aren't you loyal to them?"
He scoffed, bringing a bottle of whiskey to his lips and taking a long drink. "My plan was to stay neutral, but then they used some... convincing. I was branded with the mark."
Luna asked the question, so brashly she didn't realize how it sounded. "Do you feel anything when you..."
"Torture? Kill? Rape?" Blaise said with a mirthless half-smile. "Every fucking time. They just taught me to hide it."
Luna learned things she didn't want to learn. She learned that only Draco, Theodore and Blaise joined the Death Eaters from their year. She learned that Blaise killed fifty-four people, and he remembered all of their faces. All of them. She learned that he consumed alcohol, so much so he went through eight bottles a week. She learned that his mother had indeed killed her husbands.
She also learned that he had a younger sister.
"Naomi was born when I was thirteen. She's five. My mother's sixth husband, Metias, is the father. She loves animals and creatures. She's the one who I protect. That's why I joined the Death Eaters. They told me what they would do to her if I didn't join. They knew I had the top scores of my house, and they wanted young faces for the cause. Combined with my mother's influence on the Wizarding World, I joined to keep Naomi from becoming a sex slave."
"Like me," Luna said quietly.
Something flickered in his eyes. Pain? "Like you," he agreed. "Greyback wanted to send you to Malfoy Manor."
"Why didn't he?" Luna asked, although she already knew the answer.
"You were so innocent," he said. "You were so innocent, and I destroyed that." His eyes glazed over, and he wasn't talking to her anymore. "I am a monster. But I'll do whatever it takes. I'll do whatever it takes to get out of this damn war alive, and with Naomi."
Blaise conjured a cot, and let Luna choose which one to sleep on. She chose the cot, and spent many sleepless nights there hyperventilating, thrashing from the nightmares she had. When she calmed down, Blaise was always watching her; alert. His eyes were always on her.
She spent the time alone regaining strength. She used Blaise's bed for support. She had to practice standing. And when a month had passed, she could make it across the room. How weak she had become, needing to use a rail to stumble along with like a toddler.
It was December, Blaise stormed into their room and punched the wall. Luna's head snapped up. "They're going to search your body," Blaise said, calming down. "They know I haven't used you since that first day and they're going to search you using a charm. And if that charm shows them the results they expect, they will kill you."
Luna nodded. "Would you like me to drug you? Obligate you?" Blaise asked, almost kindly.
She shook her head. "You have to do it quickly."
He removed her underwear and bra, laid her down on his bed. He entered her body for the second time. It hurt as much as it did at first, but soothed over time. Blaise didn't move, they just lay there, listening to each other's panting breaths.
And then he stood up. Luna didn't feel quite as hollow as she had felt the first time, since she expected it, but she still mourned the violation. She didn't want to die.
True to their word, Dolohov sent Tubsy into their room, who whispered, "Ostende Mihi!" - the first verbal spell Tubsy had used.
Tubsy seemed almost relieved when light flashed purple. But then it wavered and flashed blue.
Tubsy chewed her lips, kneeling down so her batlike ears brushed Blaise's shoes. "Master Blaise, Miss Luna," she began. "Miss Luna...she...she is pregnant."
