Card the moon

Chapter 19 – It's – not so bad

…

He wasn't dead. He knew he wasn't dead because it hurt. He wasn't certain what 'it' was, but he was pretty sure it was him. Had to be. Wouldn't be feeling 'it' were it someone else.

That's philosophy.

The world went from black to white, then back to black, then white again; someone whacked the box but all that got them was static.

"I'm blind!" Wait, that wasn't new.

"No need to be so dramatic Mr. Potter."

A weight was gently placed on his nose and the antenna caught a signal. The program tuned in, Poppy Pomphrey M.W. (that's Medi-Witch for the uninitiated.)

So, he was in the hospital wing again. That was good, he was thinking it was well past time for a visit.

"How do you feel Mr. Potter?"

"With my hands," flew out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Why does my everything hurt?"

She'd started waving her wand before the question had finished asking. She worked fast, that Poppy Pomphrey. "From what I was told you were attacked by those 'things', then struck by lightning, and finally fell a very great distance. You're lucky the headmaster was able to cushion your fall, or you'd have gone splat, and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Sounded about right; the dementors and the lightning and the falling anyway. He remembered those. He blacked out before the Dumbledore, but like she said, splat.

"So, who won the game?"

The answer to that question came from his friends; their faces said it all.

"No one blames you," was a terrible opener, but that's how Hermione chose to go.

"Dumbledore was furious," said Ron. "Never seen him so mad."

It hadn't just been the field the dementors rushed, but the stands as well. The whole student body was attacked. Apparently, he cast some sort of light spell that drove them all off but by that time the damage had been done. Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt, except him.

"Just too bad Malfoy wasn't there," Draco hadn't been cleared to leave till the day after the match. Harry had been asleep for three days and missed it. Thank Merlin.

"So Diggory got the snitch?"

"Like a minute after you were attacked. He offered to forfeit the match, but Wood said no. He caught the snitch fair and square. Not fair to punish Hufflepuff for the dementors."

So, they were in last place. "Did anyone see what happened to my broom?"

"Uh…"

"Well…"

Oh no. "What happened?"

A sack was produced; within, the sad remains of his Nimbus 2000.

"The wind took it when you dropped and—threw it, into the—the Whomping willow," Ron choked out as Harry stared woodenly at the shattered remains.

"Can—can it be fixed?"

"Oh Harry," cried Hermione, wrapping him in a big hug.

"Guess not."

"Sorry mate."

He wasn't the only one. The rest of the team was nearly as devastated by the loss as he was. Wood tried to put on a brave face; they could still win the cup, if Ravenclaw clobbered Hufflepuff, and Slytherin didn't manage too big a win. They had a chance.

He looked almost as brittle as Harry felt, trying to hold onto that impossible hope. It made him feel a bit better if only by comparison.

The team wasn't long before Madam Pomphrey returned to shoo them out and force some noxious concoction down his throat that put him under once more.

When he woke next it was dark, he knew this because the static had changed colors. He thought about going back to sleep, but something was nagging at him. After a moment he realized it was not nagging but pawing at him.

"What?"

"Ah, good, you're awake."

"Luna?"

"Yes?" said a different voice.

Someone smacked his glasses onto his face and things came into focus. "That better?" Plush, sassy focus.

"Hello Squeaky."

"You are so lucky you're already injured, or I'd kick your butt."

"You concern is touching."

"Well I'm concerned," said Luna, the cat. "I thought you were dead."

"I was concerned too," said Luna, not the cat, "that's why I brought pudding."

"And that is why you are my favorite Luna tonight."

"Yay!"

"No! Harry! Love me!"

She could plead all she wanted but pudding trumped all; or anything else that would get the horrible taste out of his mouth.

"How did you three get in here anyway?" he asked, taking the offered pudding over the protesting cat.

"Through the wall," said Luna, showing him a card with the name, THROUGH, printed on it.

"Hmm, handy." He could think of a few times it would have been nice to have.

"Oh, that reminds me," another card was produced, and Harry's spoon stopped halfway to his mouth when he saw the creature it portrayed.

"That's…"

"The raiju," said the plushy.

"I found him after the attack, he was wandering around by the forest looking lost," said Luna, the girl. "I think he's the one that attacked you—and the dementors."

"No," said Harry, "he didn't attack me. I saw him. I called him. He saved me."

The cat and the plushy stared at this revelation, worry and confusion evident. The girl just smiled, "Well that was sweet of him."

"Why?"

"Why what?" she asked.

"Why can I call them. Every time I've come across one of these their name has just popped into my head. Does it work that way for you?"

The blonde head shook, "Kero knows all of them, he tells me."

"And you use that 'staff' to put them back into the cards. That's special, isn't it."

"The sealing staff," said 'Kero', who he called Squeaky. "It's the only way to return them to card form."

"Then why can I do it without?"

"Yeah, why can you?" said the plushy suspiciously.

"Maybe your related to Clow Reed," offered Luna, the girl.

"Who?"

"Clow Reed," Kero said seriously, "was a half Chinese half English wizard who lived a hundred years ago. He created the Clow cards and charged myself and one other to guard them."

"One other? You already told me you were the guardian…"

"And you teased me about it!" the plushy cried.

Yes, he had, "Who's the other one then?"

"Yue."

"Where's he then?"

Kero shrugged. "Haven't seen him since the book was sealed, but he'll be around. He was always kind of, aloof. Each of us holds dominion over half the cards. Until Luna captures all my cards I'm stuck in this form."

"This form? You mean you're not always a squeaky?"

It was immature to keep teasing him, but it was really his own fault for getting so hilariously upset.

"Just you wait. When Luna has all my cards you'll see," the plushy pouted.

"Well fine," said Harry, letting the matter lie, "but none of that explains why I can seal them, or why I know their names."

And try as they might, they couldn't think of any good reason he should. Luna, once again, the girl, was the only one with anything to offer, "Maybe it's foresight."

"What's foresight."

"It's a sort of divination."

"Ugh!" just what he needed.

"It's possible," said Luna, misunderstanding why he was upset. "Lots of people have been known to have it to some small level. It usually only works in moments of great stress, like when you're in danger."

"Then why didn't it happen last year when I was fighting that basilisk," that was pretty damn stressful.

"You fought a basilisk?"

"Yeah right," said Kero.

So that's how it was going to be, huh?

It may have been foolish to tell them the story. There were a lot of very incriminating moments, particularly with the invisibility cloak, like the fact he had an invisibility cloak. Still, the words came and the three of them sat there enraptured as he told the story as he remembered it, from his first meeting with Dobby to his last and everything in between.

Luna, the cat, had gotten the abridge version from Hermione but she had not been around for all of it, and only he had been present for the battle with the basilisk and the memory of the boy who would become the most feared dark lord of the age.

The other Luna was more interested, if you could believe it, in the house elf.

"It's very strange he should have done that," she said. "Servitude is an important part of an elf's magic. I can understand him wanting to escape Uncle Lucius, but free. That doesn't make sense to me."

He hadn't really thought about it, not knowing anything about house elves, but thoughts of Dobby and his oddities were shoved to one side in favor of, "Did you say Uncle Lucius?"

"Did I?" Ponder, ponder, "Why yes I did."

"Are you seriously telling me Lucius Malfoy is your uncle?"

"Mummy was a Malfoy," she offered helpfully. "They didn't approve of the marriage of course."

While that was certainly interesting, it didn't answer the more important question, "That means your Draco's cousin."

She nodded.

"Does he know?"

"I think he likes to pretend he doesn't."

"What a prat," was probably the nicest thing he'd ever said about Draco Malfoy.

The conversation carried on a bit longer, but a big yawn from the big-eyed blonde had the feline deciding visiting hours were over.

Harry watched Luna conjure a hole in the wall with her THROUGH card, which was awfully flashy for just a hole in the wall. And before she climbed through, she took the THUNDER card, and placed it in his hands.

"What's this?"

"I think he was looking for you," she said.

Could be, he had called to it. "But I thought you wanted all these."

"I do," she said. "And I'll have them, someday."

"Someday, huh?"

"You don't trust me," she said flatly. "It's okay, you don't have to lie," she cut him off. "It's my duty to capture all the cards, and I will. But until I've got the others, I think he'll be safe with you."

She smiled at his suspicion look; it made him want to swat her bottom (though he couldn't explain exactly why).

"And what if I decide I don't want to give them to you?" they'd saved his life more than once; why would he give that up.

"I think you will," she said. "I trust you."

That made him flinch, "Low blow Miss Lovegood."

Her next one was even lower; with surprising quickness her lips were pressed against his cheek, and just as quickly she was gone, and he was only then realizing what had happened.

"Smooth," the present Luna commented as he stared blankly, one hand raised to touch his cheek.

It was fair to say he'd little experience with physical affection, or any other kind for that matter. A Hermione hug was rare and though Mrs. Weasley had given him a hug once, neither of those things quite compared to what he'd just been given. It was—he honestly didn't know what it was, but he was sure it was making it bloody hard to think.

In an attempt to make sense of it all he rewound the conversation, returning to the bit about Dobby, elves, and servitude. He hadn't bothered to even think about Dobby since the end of second year. It seemed odd to do so now and he couldn't help but chuckle when he thought of those big weepy eyes and silly bat ears.

In retrospect, he really wasn't so bad. He meant well, just needed to work on his execution.

"Dobby," he chuckled, till he didn't.

"Greatest master is calling for his Dobby?"

"Huh?" Oh, bloody hell.