The sounds of prisoners weeping, vomiting, and slapping the walls filled her ears once again. She clenched her jaw and opened one eye slowly and then the other.
Still here.
She sniffed the rotten and molded air and allowed it to coat her lungs before coughing once.
Still smells like shit.
She stood and gently stretched her sore and stiff body while facing the wall opposite of the cell bars. She started her ritual of counting the cracks on the wet stone but she pushed her forehead against it as she became slightly dizzy. I wonder if the bread will be mouldy today, she thought.
The human guards were arguing about something in hushed voices. The floor was cold beneath her bare feet and she shivered slightly as a rush of cold blew behind her. It had gone as quickly as it came.
The dementors are early for their people-watching this morning.
She frowned as she turned around. Something was different. The dementors usually hung around and watched the prisoners shiver in their cells. She watched as the hooded things disgustingly flew to the entrance of the dungeon she was celled in and hauntingly rose up the stairs out of her sight. Incredulous, she tiptoed to the bars that kept her locked inside Azkaban, careful to not touch them – they'd leave a frostbite curse for sure – and she waited. Sniffing slightly, she crossed her arms and thought about putting them inside her thin and holey night gown.
Suddenly, the dungeon erupted in bright white smoke that smelled like molasses and lime. Catching her off guard, she choked and coughed and squinted her watery eyes between the bars.
Voices started shouting curses, hexes, and unforgivables. She couldn't make out any of the voices – some were deep and bellowing and some much more feminine and silky, but hurried all the same. She tried to make out the names being called amongst the chaos of smoke, curses, bright lights...
And then she heard it.
"Luna Lovegood! Luna! LUNA! LUNA LOVEGOOD!" The voice became frantic, the bars of the cells around her rattling with the hands of their prisoners and the screaming touching the bars created.
Her voice cracked and felt sore to be used. "H...here..." She licked her cracked lips and tried again. She couldn't be left behind. "Here. Here! HERE! I'M LUNA! HELP ME! I'M HERE! HERE!" She was screaming now, holding her hands over her aching stomach, scratching at her sore throat, her eyes wide with fear and excitement. She felt hands grab at her – real hands, not bones that froze her skin – and she continued screaming. "I'M LUNA! I'M LUNA! I'M LUNA!" Her tears seared her icy cheeks and she clung to the humans who had found her. Her voice cracked and broke and she couldn't breathe, but she had been found. She didn't care who it was, because it wasn't a dementor.
All around her, the screams of the prisoners left behind and the smoke and the yelling – it faded in her ears. She continued hysterically "I'm Luna" as she saw light, real sunlight, hit her eyes and she squinted at it. "I'm Luna" over and over again, until the sun began to warm her to her bones and she collapsed into waiting arms, sobbing and clawing at her throat which ached. Her eyes too sensitive to open just yet, she could feel she was in a boat which was moving very, very quickly. Someone covered her with a thick, soft, and very warm blanket as she sobbed and sniffed and clutched her stomach.
It wasn't until her sobs had turned into silent tears that someone finally spoke. Gentle and softly, so as to not set her off into hysterics again.
"Won't be long till land, Molly will know what to do."
Neville.
Luna sobbed gently at his voice and whispered, "I'm Luna" once more before she let the thick blanket and knowledge of her safety envelope her as she fell into unconsciousness.