A/N: Beater 2 of the Chudley Cannons writing this one-shot for the QLFC Round 4.
Prompts: I had the emotion "scared," which meant I could not use it in the story, but I had to convey it. I also chose 3. burst, 11. No dialogue, and 12. dawn.
I own nothing. It's all J.K.'s brilliance.
Ginny had been laughing. Not a hearty one, like before the war, but still it was laughter. Something Luna had not heard in months, not since Professor Snape became Headmaster and the Carrows were welcomed into the school.
Neville had simply stated he was too tired to even get off the train. He did look quite beat, and Luna had said so. Ginny laughed, a little sprinkle of joy in the cold, grey world they were living in. Ginny said that of course Neville looked beat; he had been. Beaten, that was, and Ginny found the coincidence incredibly hysterical.
Luna thought that maybe that was because, in a very dark way, it was funny. Even Neville smiled through his busted lip.
But that was before. Before the train pulled into the station. Before three Death Eaters burst through the compartment door. Before Luna was dragged away, by her hair, to the platform, where she was immediately blindfolded and sucked through time and space.
Apparated. She'd never done that before. She might have vomited once she landed had not her three companions roughly guided her through doors and hallways. Down stairs and over stone floors.
No one tried to help her, either. Ginny and Neville were at a complete loss when the Death Eaters had arrived. Luna could remember hearing Ginny screaming and Neville casting disarming spells, but they were both knocked back away from her. She was grateful that they weren't with her, because she could only imagine Ginny's fiery nature getting her into much more trouble.
Out on the platform, parents and students, professors and the conductor all stood, shocked. But they did nothing. No one tried to grab her, no one tried to disarm or injure her captors, no one, no one, no one.
Luna didn't want to be bitter about it. How could she? She was too frightened to try herself, and even if she had seen it happening in front of her, who was to say she'd know what to do. But she was bitter. How could they let these horrid people drag her away like that? The only thing Luna hoped for was that her father had not seen. He'd be devastated. Heartbroken. He'd do crazy and downright stupid things to get her back, and Luna did not want him to get hurt.
When they reached their destination, the Death Eaters removed the blindfold from Luna's eyes. She was then forced to her knees. Six Death Eaters stood surrounding her in a circle, wearing black robes.
She recognized Fenrir Greyback instantly from his old wanted posters. The Quibbler had published a few of them, and Luna remembered a strange jump in her blood every time she saw the moving picture. In front of Luna now, his ghoulish eyes and scarred face came to life. He snarled at her, causing Luna to whimper. She was not like her Gryffindor friends—brave, loyal, hardheaded—she knew defeat when it looked her in the face. She was clever like that.
Fenrir growled, and her heartbeat quickened. Luna could swear she felt her blood moving from each chamber of her heart, bump bump, growing faster as the werewolf came closer to her. Fenrir knelt beside her and started to purr, like a wild tiger.
Bump bump. He brushed her hair back behind her ear.
Bump bump. He leaned in, teeth exposed.
Bump bump. He started chuckling.
Standing erect, Fenrir commented on how weak Luna was. How easy she would be to break. He could sense her heart beating, and he knew that someone that fragile couldn't handle what was coming to her. Luna, despite the drum beating in her chest, wanted nothing more than to slap him for thinking he knew her at all.
A woman, lean and pale, with hair surrounding her head like a crown of frizz and fur, pushed Fenrir back into his spot in the circle. She opened her mouth, exposing yellow teeth. Luna dared not move her eyes from the woman's face. She had heard rumors of Bellatrix Lestrange's anger, and Luna didn't want to poke the beast by looking away, afraid it might be a sign of disrespect.
Three questions were asked of her. Where was Harry Potter? Where was Hermione Granger? Do you think it was wise to print propaganda against the Dark Lord?
I don't know. I don't know. And yes. But Luna couldn't answer out loud; her mouth was too dry.
After the second time Bellatrix repeated herself, the witch raised her wand. She pointed it directly at Luna's heart, bump bump bump bump bu—Crucio! And again, crucio. And again. And again.
Little white dots began to pop in her line of sight. Nothing made sense, except the pain she flt every time she moved or was forced to move. Luna wriggled, a worm baited on a hook. She wailed. She felt hot tears fall from her eyes, but she would not speak. Even if she had known where Harry was, she would not speak. No one could make her sell out her friends or her father. They were all she had.
After that, Bellatrix tried questions again. When Luna wouldn't answer, Bellatrix would begin her curses.
Luna could not mark it with a number, however the process had repeated itself at least three times. Maybe four. Maybe five, but it continued until Luna felt like the floor had vanished, and she was floating around in space, like that kooky Alice in Wonderland when she fell down the rabbit hole.
She had pushed her forehead into the floor, letting the cool stones calm her heated flesh. The circle that had surrounded her dissipated; they must have gotten bored with her. While Luna tried to hold on to consciousness, the fading voices of the Death Eaters only made her want to sleep forever.
But the there were arms around her. They weren't gentle, but they weren't rough either. They scooped her up like a baby, holding her just a little too tight. She could feel her aching body jolt from the innocent contact. This person was not going to hurt her like the others had. Luna felt this person's muscles flex beneath her weight. They must have sensed her pain, because they relaxed their grip ever so slightly. Luna let her face fall into their neck. She curled into the person—him. She could tell it was a him.
He was whispering how sorry he was. Had he known, he would have intervened. Luna willed herself to look into his face, but Draco Malfoy wouldn't meet her gaze.
He set her down, gently, on a cold, cement floor. Luna curled in on herself as she heard the slamming of barred doors shut and lock behind Draco's retreating form. He might've been sorry, but he hadn't let her go.
Silently, Luna began to cry. She was trapped, like a poor, defenseless gulping plimpy in a cage.
When she could cry no more, Luna sat up, flexing out her aching bones. She feared that many of them were shattered under Bellatrix's rage. Bruises were already black on her legs and arms. She looked around and saw one little window high above her head.
Not that she could reach it anyways; she couldn't stand. Luna sat with her back pressed into the wall. Her legs automatically curled up to her chest, and she held them there, trying to keep all of her pieces together and whole. She slowly rocked back and forth as her new reality settled around her. This wasn't just a moment in time. This would be her life now, until the war ended or she died.
More tears flowed freely. Somewhere in the silence, Luna could just make out that sprinkle of Ginny's laugh. It was far away, off in another life, another moment, lost in time. Luna's own sobs began to drown it out, until it was only a memory, distorted and silent.
The Death Eaters would only repeat their torture in a few hours. Luna was certain of that. And there would come a time when Fenrir would do more than tease her. Her heart lurched, bump bump, one last time before she calmed herself enough to lie down to sleep.
As the dawn of a new day peeked its ugly face through the small window, Luna remained awake, waiting for the end.