Card the moon

Chapter 13 – Harry's first youma

Sleep. He remembered sleep. It was a thing he used to do, back, before. He remembered wrapping blankets, and fluffy pillows, and warm, snuggly softness. But that was before. Doom hung over his head now, he had seen it; he had seen 'it'.

Luna was sitting in the common room when he and Ron returned from their looping adventure. Ron spotted the feline and dashed up the stairs, leaving Harry to brief her on his latest misadventure.

"You're having quite the term, aren't you Harry?" He certainly was, and she wasn't about to make it any easier. "I've found another youma." It would be the first since Hermione had systematically eliminated all the ones already in the castle when they arrived.

Safe to assume, someone on the inside was bringing them in. "Take the morning off, get some rest. We'll go after it in the evening."

A morning off, what an idea; what a fabulous, marvelous, glorious idea. If he'd had the umph he would have skipped. Instead he managed a slightly lighter trudge up the stairs.

A morning off. He could use a morning off, he thought as he changed for bed. Glancing out the window, all thoughts of mornings off fled his mind; he did a double take and froze.

Down by the pitch, at the edge of the forest a shape moved. Four legs, it had four legs and fur, black as the ace of spades. It was gone quickly, but he couldn't pretend he hadn't seen it. The Grim.

Sleep, then, became a foreign agent. Try as he might, the wrapping blankets grasped with no warmth and the fluffy pillows were as lead beneath his head. Warm, snuggly softness was replaced by deep, chilling dread.

Sufficeth to say, he found little rest and those small amounts found were of such poor quality he may as well not found them at all.

"Bloody 'ell mate, you look terrible," Ron said the next morning.

"Ron?"

"Yeah mate?"

"What is sleep? Is it tasty?"

The lack of sleep was catching up to him at last; not hard, it hadn't been trailing that far behind.

The day did not improve after he groaned his way out of bed. Hedwig came to visit for no particular reason and swiped his bacon when he failed to acknowledge her presence. His roommates chortled.

They stopped when they all slunk into potions. Snape was in rare form, stalking around the room taking points for anything he could think of, and failing that, making things up.

It didn't help that Harry, his favorite victim save perhaps Neville, did not react to anything and somehow managed a perfect boil remover. It didn't earn him any points, go figure, but Snape could find no way to take them either.

The look on his face was something between incoherent fury and tear yourself a new butthole constipation. If only he'd been coherent enough to appreciate it.

"Can you believe the look on his face?"

"I will treasure the memory forever."

Trudging along behind them, Harry wished he could remember what they were talking about. It seemed important, like, really important. If only his brain would just—brain!

"Pssst… Pssssssst."

And now that suit of armor was 'psss'ing at him. he wasn't sure but it seemed like a rude thing to be doing, 'psss'ing at him.

"Harry, down here."

He attempted to make the instructed adjustment but went too far, "A'ss mu feet." Gee his shoes were dirty.

Something small and black stepped into frame, looking up at him with an expression, on a face. No; no, don't tell me, I know this one… "Kitty." Or not.

"Try again."

"Luna?"

"That's the one."

Knew I had it.

"I thought I told you to get some rest."

"Wass'at."

"Sleep, Harry."

"No thank you I'm goo—oh, no, I got that, I got that, it was—um, can you say that again."

"Oh dear."

Harry was so disconnected he had no grasp at all of what was going on or why the kitty seemed so upset. Maybe she needed a pet, but his arms wouldn't reach that far.

"I suppose asking if you remember the youma would be a waste of time."

"Yo mama waste a time."

"Oh dear. This is not how I was hoping this would go. Oh well, too late now."

"What's too late now?"

Giving him a questioning look, though what, when, where, or how he wasn't sure, "Harry, could you turn around."

Could he? He tried and found he could. Amazing. His shoes were still dirty, but there were metal shoes too. Where had those come from?

The shoes were connected to metal legs, attached to a metal cod piece, (oh, my); moving right along, breastplate, that was not shaped like breasts; the helmet was surprisingly close to his face and the gauntlets hovered at the end of metal arms twitching, like they were trying to get a hold of something but couldn't.

"Hello," said Harry.

The helmet grunted, fingers twitching, "Why can't I drain you?"

"Drain what?"

"Your life energy. Why can't I drain it?"

Harry wondered the very same thing, "Have you tried using a straw?"

"Harry, stop trying to help the youma."

"But she can't drain me," he wasn't sure why, though he was almost certain that was a thing she should be able to do.

Unfortunately for him, this particular youma wasn't the sort that appreciated help. Unfortunate for her, when she lunged to grab Harry he managed to stumble out of the way, tripping her face first into the wall.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"I fall on my butt," he said.

Yes, he did, but at least he didn't run headfirst into the wall, "Oo, your gonna pay for that," the youma groaned.

"Harry, quick, your wand."

"Want what?"

"Your wand! Where is it?"

Where was his wand? Hmmmmmmm, "I think it's in my bag," was that right? "Yeah, it's in my bag."

"Pull it out!"

"I don't think so," the youma snapped, sparking vile black lightning between her fists and punching a wicked black lightning bolt at Harry.

The bolt lifted him off the ground and threw him into the opposite wall.

"Harry!"

"Luna," Harry groaned. "I'm awake now."

"Not for long."

Rather than attack, the youma slammed her fists together and surged, armor became like liquid and produced spikes, spikes, and just for a change, more spikes.

"Harry, I think we should run," Luna queried.

"Luna, I think you're right."

And run he did, it was fast, and short. He may have been awake, but the result of his lost sleep could not be ignored and his body tired quickly. He'd barely gotten around the corner when he had to stop, nearly stumbling into the wall.

"Harry!"

"I can—I can't. I got nothing." He shook, leaning against the wall for support. The Grim, he'd seen it, and he was about to die.

"Gotcha!"

The youma came around the corner and lunged like a leopard. Arms gleaming with sharp points swiped at his head, driving him the only direction he could go, down.

The wall tore like cheap paper, dumping stone debris on Harry's head as he sat staring up at the monster about to kill him.

"Say goodnight smartass."

He didn't, in fact, say goodnight. He didn't say anything. Somehow, he didn't need to, she still heard him. The gale surrounded him and blasted the youma across the hall, lodging her nail like spikes in the opposite wall like a hammer.

The elegant fae like woman made no appearance but he could feel her presence, the warmth in his pocket where the three cards were stored. Inspiration struck, an idea, possible the only one he was going to have, judging by the speed the youma was removing herself from the wall.

He stood; reached into his pocket and pulled out a card as she set her sight on him again.

"Alright, no more fooling around. Master Jadeite will already be annoyed at this mess. Time for you to die."

She lunged, he whispered. Her armored arm that could easily tear through stone would part his weak flesh easily. It slid through his chest like it was nothing, and exploded from her own chest, much to her surprise.

"Wha—what?" If a suit of armor could look confused.

It didn't last long. She didn't last long; crumbling to dust, a black crystal fell to the ground. Harry stepped forward and smashed it underfoot without a second thought. Silence followed; skittish, tepid silence, ready to run at a second's notice.

"Is—is that it?"

"Harry, that was—how did you—are you alright?"

Was he? "I don't…" he took a single step and crumpled to the floor.

"Harry! Harry, speak to me!"

"Luna. M'tired," he mumbled.

"Harry. We can't stay here. We need to…"

He never heard what they needed to; darkness fell, and unconsciousness claimed him. Whatever it was, it could wait.