If he was dead, he was apparently in heaven, since Luna was there. Harry couldn't seem to open his eyes for more than a heartbeat, but he'd spotted his sister's clear blue eyes and blonde curls, felt her tender ministrations, and heard her soft lullabies and a babe's cry.
Was he imagining it all? Perhaps they were dead, and Harry had joined them. But if he'd met his maker, surely he'd have been doomed to the underworld for his many sins.
Harry knew he should likely regret said sins and repent, but couldn't seem to muster the will, even though death had him in its sights. It seemed he was alive, considering the torment searing his gut every time he breathed in…or out, for that matter.
So, all the time. The dagger that had breached him felt as though it was still there, digging in mercilessly, its steel viciously cold yet scorching all the same.
The heat built, and he imagined flames licking at his face and chest, and of course his belly, which was only agony. The fire grew into a hungry inferno, and he barely made out Luna's voice after a time, his eyes far too heavy. There was another voice too, a young woman he didn't recognize who spoke with a calming rhythm.
But the voice he heard loudest was one he knew must be only in his mind. Voldemort cried his name so fervently, a heartrending plea,
"Harry!"
Moaning and delirious, soaked with sweat yet shivering, racked with chills, Harry reached for Voldemort's damn boots, the gold tips slipping away beneath his fingers as he grasped over and over.
He was unable to do anything else as he huddled there on the deck, trapped and alone, Voldemort cruelly out of reach.
"Harry? Please, please. Come back to me."
Groaning, he tried to open his lead-weighted eyes. It was Luna who called for him now, and the thought that she might be in need tugged him from the roiling depths. Blinking, he glimpsed her pale, pinched face.
"Yes, that's it! Open your eyes."
Where were they? He tried to remember the last time he'd been with Luna… the merchant ship, pirates boarding… Voldemort. No, they weren't there. It hadn't all been a dream; that was impossible. What he'd shared with Voldemort had been real; it had to have been.
So how… The ransom. Godric's Hollow. The messenger lunging for Voldemort, dagger suddenly in his grasp, the blade sinking to the hilt in Harry's belly, pain burning white-hot and then terrifyingly cold.
The world was a blur. A white ceiling with a pattern etched into it, swirls and loops. Turning his head felt monumental, but it was worth it to behold Luna's tearful smile. He'd always hated to see her cry. He tried to reach over and wipe her tears, but his hand wouldn't cooperate.
"Luna?"
His throat was a desert, nothing but stones and sand.
"Yes. Shh, it's all right. You're safe. Here, drink. You must drink."
She held a glass to his lips, lifting his head for him. The tepid water burned going down.
"Where?"
He was in a bed softer than any he could remember, but likely his memory was short at the moment. Beyond Luna, sunlight streamed through an open window, the pale curtains hardly moving in the sticky air.
"We're on Godric's Hollow. You're safe at home with us."
Her smile faltered, but she lifted her chin.
"What is it?"
"Nothing… nothing. It can wait. Oh, Harry. We thought we'd lost you again. I'm not sure how much you remember. That despicable pirate returned you with a grievous wound, but don't worry… justice will be served."
His heart seized,
"What do you mean? Where is he?"
Harry tried to sit up, his body trembling, traitorous limbs too weak.
"Don't try to move! Please, darling. The stab wound was bad enough. Just when we thought you were returning to us, infection set in. It's been two weeks, and the surgeon didn't hold out much hope at all. But I did, and Ginny did."
"Who?"
Luna laughed, tired lines creasing her face,
"Your betrothed, of course. It will all come back to you soon. You've been mired in this fever, but it's broken now. Ginny will be overjoyed when she returns this morning."
It took too much effort to speak, so he didn't bother addressing the issue of Ginny Weasley. Darkness had begun to close in at the edges of his vision, but he croaked,
"Voldemort? Where is he?"
Pressing a cool cloth to his forehead, she soothed,
"It's all right. That vile man can't hurt you now."
A scream tore at Harry's raw throat, but he was falling under the surface, dark waves closing over him.
Candles flickered as Harry focused on the bundle cradled in Luna's arms. He vaguely recalled hearing a babe's cries at some point and realized Luna's belly had been flat when he'd woken before.
He was able to lift his hand this time, and Luna jerked her head up, exclaiming. The baby wailed. A young dark haired woman hurried in and took the child while Luna helped Harry drink more water.
Resting back against the downy pillows, Harry tried to recall what they'd discussed earlier, his heart plummeting as it hit him,
"Where is he?"
"Who? Father? He was in earlier with the surgeon. Of course he's been worried sick. We all have."
His gaze returned to the young woman, who lingered, jiggling the baby and cooing to it,
"Ginny?"
The woman replied,
"The babe's name is Grace, m'lord."
Luna laughed awkwardly,
"This is Cecily. The wet nurse. Ginny returned earlier, but you slept for hours. She'll be back in the morning, don't fret."
She rose and spoke to Cecily in low tones Harry didn't try to decipher, his mind turning over the possibilities of Voldemort's fate. Cecily left with the baby, and Luna retook her seat. She wore a blue dress that had seen better days, although jewels sparkled in her ears.
He wanted to demand more information but remembered his manners in time,
"You're both doing well? She's beautiful. Grace."
Luna beamed,
"She is, isn't she? And yes, we're wonderful. Neville and I couldn't be happier."
Her smile dimmed,
"Father would have preferred a grandson, of course, but next time, we hope."
"Albus should just go and kill himself."
She gasped, a hand flying up to cover her mouth. Then she craned her head to peer out the open doorway. Apparently seeing no one, she leaned in, trying to hide her mirth,
"You have been on a pirate ship indeed."
Worry gnawed,
"Where is he? Captain Voldemort. I must know."
Luna brushed back his damp hair,
"I told you, that monster will never trouble you again. You needn't be frightened. Oh, Harry. Was it awful? Of course it was, why am I asking that? Forgive me."
She took a shuddery breath,
"I can't tell you how relieved I am to have you home. I thought I'd never see you again."
"I'm fine, Luna."
He rubbed his face, which had been shaved smooth. Probably at his Albus's order, since a gentleman must always be respectable even when at death's door gripped in a fever.
A dark-skinned woman with greying hair knocked at the open door and entered with a steaming bowl of broth. Too weak to feed himself, Harry had no choice but to submit as Luna lifted the spoon to his lips.
After they coddled him like he was the infant… and despite his resentment, he couldn't deny his helplessness… his eyes grew heavy again, but his heart raced, the ache in his wounded belly throbbing.
"Luna… What happened to the pirate?"
"Father had hired a privateer ship to battle the pirates, since we have no redcoats here. He'd hoped to sink them right there in the harbour, but they led the privateers on a merry chase. All for naught… Captain Voldemort is soon to face the gallows. So, you see? Nothing to worry about. You needn't ever think on that abominable creature again."
He was certain the dagger had returned, twisting into him, stealing his breath. Luna sat straighter, her eyes widening,
"Harry? No, lie back. Don't thrash, or you'll reopen the wound."
She turned her head, calling,
"Judith!"
The older woman returned, and Harry's mind was buzzing too much to make out what she and Luna were saying as they held him down. Soon they were administering bitter drops of medicine, and he gagged, gasping.
"There, there."
Luna pressed another cold cloth to his head,
"Sleep again, darling. You need your rest."
What he needed was to save Voldemort, to see him safe and happy and whole, but the black claimed him once more.
