Neville nearly carried him down to a small, windowless chamber on the ground floor that night, but Harry had taken a few steps, at least. Granted, the pain threatened to bring up the broth and small amount of bread he'd eaten, but he'd kept his food down. While it might have been a tiny victory, he'd take it.
After Neville had gone and Luna fretted over Harry, he asked,
"How about some Don Quixote? I haven't heard that in years."
Luna winced as glass shattered in the distance, the upper floor of the house in particular taking a lashing from the storm. The wind howled, and Harry wondered for the hundredth time where Voldemort was and if he suffered.
Would the privateers treat him fairly? He had once been one of them, and if their letter of marque was revoked for any reason, they would suddenly be deemed pirates too. Perhaps Voldemort could appeal to their reason. Harry didn't hold out much hope, but it was all he could cling to.
"Yes, a good choice. I'll fetch it from the library."
Luna left the door ajar, and Harry listened to the household staff bustle about.
Albus was holed up in his study, the baby and wet nurse in the sitting room, where Luna would sleep as well. The upper floor had been deemed unsafe, even with boards hastily nailed over the windows.
Earlier, Luna had insisted she wasn't tired in the least, and Harry was happy to hear her read to him again while the baby slept for a few hours. He needed something… anything… to keep his mind from fixating on Voldemort.
Have they hurt him? Is he angry with me? Does he love me as I love him? I do love him, more than anything. Is he afraid? Does he despair?
Harry had last beheld him much as he had the very first time: Voldemort wearing his costume… his armour… that announced him a fearsome pirate king. The rings on his fingers and slash of red around his waist, the steel of his cutlass winking on his hip; the coat that acted almost as a cape.
Yet he would remember Voldemort not as the myth, but the man… scarred and tired, passionate and tender. The raw terror on his face as he'd uttered Harry's name aloud, leaning over him, shielding him, holding his fingers so tightly before tearing himself away.
"All right, here we are."
Luna jumped as a gust of wind shrieked, rain battering the house. From what little Harry had seen of the two-story building, it was solidly constructed, with at least a dozen rooms.
How would the rest of the colony fare? From the sound of it, there was little left. Luna pulled her winged chair close to the narrow bed, which was more of a cot. She cleared her throat and began.
Her familiar voice and cadence soothed Harry's raw edges enough that he could unclench his fists and breathe evenly. Luna read into the night as Mother Nature railed, threatening at times, it seemed, to tear the house from its foundations.
Harry closed his eyes and tried to focus only on Luna's warm, familiar voice. As she read, the wind and rain keened. He shivered, the earlier heat chased away.
Soaked to the skin, Neville stuck his head in, water dripping into his eyes from his floppy curls. He had an appearance not unlike a massive shaggy dog. Luna waved him in, assuring him the baby was sleeping comfortably, at least until the next time she woke wailing, as babies inevitably would.
"You must promise not to go out again!"
Luna said,
"Please stay here until this passes."
Neville sighed, wiping water from his face,
"The remaining people are in need, and there aren't enough hands. It feels cowardly to hole up here with the women and children."
He looked guiltily to Harry,
"What I mean to say is…"
"I know,"
Harry assured him,
"I take no offense. I possess the strength of a kitten at the moment."
"Father is here, and he's not infirm,"
Luna said. Neville raised his eyebrows,
"Regretfully, your father is not a man I aspire to emulate."
He took her hand,
"Forgive me for speaking so frankly."
She sighed and plopped back into her chair,
"No apology necessary. We all know Father's…limitations. Which have become all too clear."
Harry asked,
"Neville, what do you mean, the remaining people? What is happening on this island? There's something going on that no one wants to explain. I know the colony was struggling, but it sounds as if it has collapsed. I assure you I can withstand the cold truth."
Sharing a look with Luna, Neville said,
"Let me get another chair."
When he was settled, the door pulled halfway shut, he nodded to Luna, who leaned toward the bed, her voice low.
"Oh, Harry. It's a disaster. They say the terrain is all wrong. Too sandy in some places, too rocky in others. Far too hilly. The men who initially proposed this colony to England were fools. Overconfident that no matter the landscape, it could be moulded and tamed to do our bidding."
Neville added,
"To be fair to your father, that was not his doing. The rest, however…"
Luna sighed,
"Father wasted untold amounts of money insisting on planting crops that wouldn't take. The colonists have left in droves, and the rumour from Whitehall is that the Crown is abandoning this place and cutting its losses. Father has failed in every conceivable way. He hasn't admitted it yet, but we're going back to England. Or perhaps somewhere else in the New World. There's simply no alternative."
"He and Mr. Weasley are on shaky ground,"
Neville said, unbuttoning his wet jacket,
"Arthur gave up a successful venture in Jamaica, expecting more power here than he had in Kingston. If not for your engagement to Ginny, I fear their partnership would dissolve completely. Albus would have had you married when you were barely conscious if Luna hadn't spoken out so strongly against it."
Harry's heart skipped,
"You don't think I should marry her, Luna?"
She blinked,
"Oh, of course you should. She's an absolute treasure. Isn't she, Neville?"
"Yes. Very level-headed, and a kind soul. She'd make a fine wife for any man."
Any but me.
Luna added,
"She deserves a proper wedding in a church, wearing her fine dress. And surely you'll want to be awake and in your right mind on your wedding day."
"I… Yes,"
He had to agree.
"There's no telling now when this pirate will arrive for his trial,"
Neville said,
"Your father had already ordered the gallows constructed, which was a complete waste of time. Not to mention lumber."
He shook his head,
"These winds are like nothing I've ever seen. I fear there will be very little left when the dust settles, as it were. They should have just tried him in Kingston, but your father insisted he preside, as if it will somehow legitimize this place and save it. His pride will be the death of us all if we're not careful."
Luna sighed,
"Yes. He was determined that his colony would be the most like England, no matter how impractical that might be. All show and no substance."
"One wonders why he ever wanted to leave England in the first place."
Neville grimaced,
"Of course, as a fifth son of an earl myself, I understand wanting to strike out in the New World. There should be more opportunities here."
He glanced at Luna and lowered his voice further,
"In fact, Mr. Weasley and I have had some discussions. He still has many connections in Jamaica and a respected name in shipping. There could be opportunities for us there. You, me, Harry, and Ginny."
Luna stared at him,
"But… But what of Father? We couldn't just…"
"Why not?"
Harry asked,
"Why should our fates be controlled by his whims? Haven't they already been long enough?"
"Yes,"
Neville hissed,
"Quite long enough."
He took Luna's hand again, holding it between his own,
"My dear, your loyalty is one of your best qualities. But the time has come when we must remove ourselves from your father's shadow. With haste."
"He's right, Luna. You know he is."
Tears glistened in her eyes,
"Yes."
She swallowed hard,
"I must check on Grace. Please excuse me."
When she was gone, Neville rubbed his face,
"You agree, then? That we shall leave Godric's Hollow as soon as this storm and trial are over."
He looked up as another shriek of wind battered the windows,
"Whatever unfolds, I feel strongly that we must try our fortunes away from Albus's influence."
Harry said a quick prayer for Voldemort and nodded,
"I couldn't agree more."
