Obligatory Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any character, story element or plot item originally published in the Harry Potter books or movies that I may refer to in this story. I'm merely playing in the sandbox.
Luna looked around at the greenery around her. Something felt off. She shook her head, mentally reciting the background of a creature that would fit the description of the feeling. Can't fall out of practice, after all.
She wandered the edge of the forest, her strange looking home just visible. Glancing at it for a second made her smile, then she turned back to her work. She knelt as she found the right kind of bush and began digging with her hands, looking for a bright blue root that matched the description of the ice wyrm root her father's recipe called for. She enjoyed potions making this way, not like Snape's boring version. Hunting for the ingredients seemed to tie the process more to the world than the cold method of the laboratory. She wondered where their next trip would take them and what new plants and animals she'd get to see when they were exploring the world.
The feeling crossed her again and this time it was accompanied with multiple cracks. She leapt up, whipping around to have her arm grabbed and pinned behind her. "Look what we found," a familiar voice said, though the haughty features and arrogant smirk were hidden behind a silver mask.
"Looks like the lunatic's all alone. She'll be fun." This voice was familiar, too. The tone was of a dumber boy, but she couldn't put the name to this one. As hands ran up and down her, finding her wand and a sample knife she carried, pocketing them both, then ran across her again, lingering, she still couldn't believe it.
She'd felt something hit her, but she didn't know what it was, and her body just wasn't responding right. She could feel the groping fingers everywhere on her, but couldn't do anything to stop it, leaving her waiting for the inevitable. The wait carried on and on until she just wished they'd kill her and end it. Daddy, help me! She couldn't speak at the moment; her jaw wouldn't move right.
"We have to bring the weirdo before my aunt first. You know what she said."
"She won't know, Draco."
"Shut it, idiot. Don't say names. Besides, my aunt's crazy. What if she figured it out? She'd flay us alive."
The pair of figures hauled her, both her arms pinned behind her back and legs strangely nonfunctional, out to the lawn. She was tossed unceremoniously in front of a woman, but no spell was needed to render the rest of her immobile. Her father's glassy eyes stared back at her; face contorted in a way to only leave her with one idea: he'd been hit with the Killing Curse. She managed to roll to one side and could see the Dark Mark over her house, now with fire pouring from the windows.
"Well, what have we here?"
Luna floated upward, finding herself staring into the eyes of the "crazy aunt" herself. Bellatrix Lestrange held her suspended, now immobilized by horror, not just the fading spell that had been used before. "Who is this?"
"Loony Lovegood, the weirdo's daughter."
Malfoy's words made her want to kick, to scream back, anything. Bellatrix eyed her. "This is the girl you told me about. Little crazy girl that no one would want around," she said the last in a warped baby voice that made Luna's skin crawl.
Her wand waved in front of her, blue light emanating from it. "Good. The Dark Lord will be pleased."
"Can we play with her?" The dumb one spoke again.
"No, idiot!" Bellatrix turned, dropping her again to the earth, casting a Crucio at the hulking figure. "She's a virgin. The Dark Lord has been looking for a few to draw blood from. We'll interrogate her for a while, then hand her over. He told us to find Potter if we could." She turned back and smiled. "If she's intact when he's done with her, then he might let you play. After a few others, of course."
She was hit with a stunner as the horror only grew at her impending future.
She didn't know how long it had been, but her stomach ached. She was sure it was the kicking and punching when she wouldn't answer questions or the period jolts of Cruciatus that she was getting, not the lack of food. Someone came in from time to time asking about the school, about some of the students. She was surprised to get questions about who the new Head of the Black Family was but was keeping her mouth shut. The beatings told her what would come for her when they knew what she knew, not that she knew much.
A man walked in, splashing her with a cup of water before presenting it to her half full. She reached for it, hand trembling, but he slid it back.
"What do I get?"
She shuddered, but this time from his request. She'd heard his bragging, rat features contorting into a grin as he spoke of his fondness of younger ones. She couldn't remember his name but had heard the stories enough to recognize him from his claim of having performed the resurrection ritual for Voldemort. The rat man was insistent that he would get his turn with her first. "Maybe if you promise to not fight, to like me, I can make things easier."
Despite her cracked lips begging for the water, she rolled over. Luna barely grunted as he kicked her in the back, swearing as he threw the cup at her head. She pulled her now dirty hair around, sucking on locks of it to try to get some moisture into her system.
She heard yelling from the other side of the now closed door. Bellatrix was back. She had been gone for some time, but she didn't know how long. It was always dark in the closet they used as her cell. She was getting used to it, able to make out faces, but they never left her alone long enough to try an escape. She had to get out, though.
The door opened again, and hands grabbed at her, hair almost the color of hers falling in front of her face, as they slipped up her shirt and squeezed painfully but she wouldn't react. That's what he wanted. "Oh, Loony. I don't care if I'm fifth or fifteenth, I'm going to make you remember me."
She remembered. She swore vengeance.
"Leave her alone."
For a moment, she stiffened, the unwanted hands leaving her chest as the deeper voice spoke. "Daddy?" Luna croaked out, rolling over.
Her father stood there in the doorframe. Her father. She could hardly breathe as she fought to sit up but hurt too badly to do so. "Daddy?" Her breathless question was all she could manage at that moment.
"I've negotiated a deal. They'll let you go, but they want to know where the Potter boy is."
"I…" She paused, staring at the face that had always been so loving before. "You've never called him that. You called him Harry."
The man wearing her father's skin sneered, pulling his wand out. "I said to tell me where the Potter boy is," the man growled, casting the torture curse one more time on her. She couldn't scream. She'd found a pain more than the curse could give. Her last time seeing her father's eyes would be as she was getting tortured.
The story went on and Brahm held her tightly. This time, unlike in the Hufflepuff Common Room, he was silent, never interrupting her. The hardest part as she spoke of beating after beating, the wandering hands and the threats, even the friends and family somehow brought from the dead to torment her into revealing his location wasn't that they were interrogating her about him. It was the helplessness in her voice.
Harry, even before becoming Brahm, had admired the young girl's strength. It had been for the wrong reasons, him thinking she was strong for sticking to her beliefs when everyone else mocked her, but he'd still admired her. Now that he knew it had all been a cover story and she'd held up despite the crushing loneliness, he'd been ashamed of his own behavior. Now, he resolved to redeem a part of that.
Finally, she wound down to the last beating, thinking that she was going to be Crucioed into insanity, just like she knew others had been, saying that as she passed out, she thought that was it for her. "They were getting tired of getting nothing and I think you saved me just in time. I didn't have to be sane for everything they planned for me." She buried her face in his chest as she said the last and Brahm ran his hands through her hair.
"I'm sorry."
She was still, breathing hard and tears soaking his shirt. "Why?"
"I'm sorry you experienced that. You shouldn't have. No one should."
"At least you don't blame yourself. That was part of the reason I didn't tell you." She exhaled. "I was glad that you didn't see any of that with the pendant. I'd been afraid of that happening. Thinking about it, well, that's the real reason I retreated that day." She looked up at him, her grey eyes ringed in red now. "Not that hearing your voice call me a freak didn't hurt."
Brahm leaned down and kissed her forehead gently. "Do you want to sleep for a bit?"
"No, I want to sit like this for a while, though. Maybe do something fun before we have to go back?"
Brahm laughed. "How about we try to teach Dobby and Mimsy cards? That just sounds like a blast to me."
Sarah did laugh a little and Brahm once again found the sound reassuring. Some time passed and they did finally get up. Sarah washed her face and did a spell to reduce the puffiness from crying before returning and they did have the elves try to learn to play cards. They both laughed, first embarrassing the poor elves before Brahm explained it was okay to laugh when things fall apart.
He glanced at Sarah as he finished. "Sometimes, laughter is what keeps us going."
Sarah smiled back at him.
The portkey had them land in Poppy's office and as they did, the door opened. The Headmaster stared at them. Sarah's face still clearly had small signs of recent tears and Brahm knew he still looked unsteady from hearing her tale.
"Your family emergency, is it settled?"
"Yes, Headmaster." Brahm returned a very neutral reply.
"Is it something that will affect the school?"
"No, it was more information on the people who killed Sarah's parents and kidnapped her. I don't think she cares to live through that any more today."
"Albus, leave the girl alone!"
Brahm was surprised to see McGonagall appear from behind the man, pulling him away from the doorframe to let them through. Brahm put his arm around Sarah, who huddled closer to him, playing up the part in front of the two older instructors. They walked away, Brahm thanking McGonagall as he passed.
Outside and down the corridor, Sarah sighed. "I hate not being able to stand it."
"You're not in a fetal ball somewhere, sobbing, Sarah. You're strong enough."
She nodded. "I want to be Ghost for a while."
"Okay…how about I crouch down, and you ride on my shoulders?"
Sarah nodded and shifted, waiting for Brahm to lean down so she could climb up and rest on his shoulder like a stole. Brahm only grumbled when she would flick her tail to tickle his nose, but she only did a few times.
When they got to their Common Room, he sat and she leapt into his lap, curling up and closing her eyes. Brahm absentmindedly stroked her head and Susan approached. "Are you guys okay?"
"Sarah and I had a rough afternoon, that's all. She doesn't want to be a person for a while."
Susan nodded. "Is it a bad time to tell you Neville asked me out?"
"No," Brahm smiled, then wondered at something. "That's good…isn't it?"
Susan smiled faintly, eyes on the white ball of fur in his hands. "I said yes, so I'd say so."
"Don't hurt him. You may be my little sister, but I'll still whomp you if you hurt a nice guy."
Ghost huffed lightly and Brahm scratched gently behind her left ear. "We'll take that as Sarah saying, 'we'll still whomp you.'" Ghost grumbled lightly and wriggled into a better spot, making the pair laugh. Brahm knew it was her subtle way of saying she didn't need protection. He could respect that.