A bone-chilling dread washed over Harry. The Dementors were shuffling
nearer, seeming to virtually glide over the ground, their tattered gray
cloaks billowing ominously behind them as they approached.
Luna sighed softly and tugged on his sleeve. Harry could see plainly she wasn't going to be able to outrun them, yet making any attempt to stand their ground wasn't an option. Neither one of them had a wand now, and unless one of them could spontaneously summon a Patronus without one...
Harry caught a glint of something on the cobblestones where he'd just tackled Voldemort...a wand!
He ran over to it and snatched it up, suddenly realizing with mortification it held no power here; he might as well be brandishing a twig at the approaching horrors.
Luna had joined him and grasped his arm tightly, wether in urgency or to keep from falling he couldn't tell.
"Harry," she said softly, "I suppose this would be a good time to leave - "
But Harry knew it was useless to run. Luna could barely stand as it was; and while he could easily carry her, there was no way he could do so and outrun a group of Dementors. And even if he could, where could they go? The portal that lay a half hour's walk from here only worked one way. They were trapped.
Harry shivered at the thought of dying at the hands of those horrid wilting creatures. It was said the Dementors' Kiss would extinguish one's soul - he would never allow that.
He looked to the wall of green flames silently fluttering a few feet away; it provided the only escape...though the consequences were utterly unknown. He took a deep breath and made an agonizing decision.
"We can't let them get us, Luna - "
He felt Luna squeeze his arm gently. "They won't," she said reassuringly. "I brought that old sock with me."
Harry whirled on her, his eyes wide as saucers. "Luna!!"
"Well," she said, opening the drawstring of her small bag and turning it upside down, the tattered old sock flopping to the ground, "you'd best get your glasses before they do - "
Harry felt hope surge through him at the sight of the Portkey. He hadn't even realized his glasses had been knocked off during the scuffle with Voldemort. He looked around his feet, very conscious of the Dementors' approach -
He saw a glimmer on the ground and bent down to pick it up, stopping just short when he saw it was a softly glowing glass sphere slightly smaller than his fist. Voldemort must have dropped this, he realized. He decided to bring it along, concluding it had to be artifact of some importance to be carried on the person of the Dark Lord.
He went to pick it up, hesitating at the last moment. Could it be another portkey? Where would it lead if it was? Did he dare?
"Harry? There isn't much time - " Luna voiced behind him.
"There's something here," he replied, seeing the Dementors spreading out on either side of the circle of flames, clearly intent on cutting off their retreat. "I'm not exactly sure what it might be - "
Luna joined him, one hand still clutching her ribs as she gazed down at the glowing crystal sphere.
"Could it be another Prophecy?" asked Harry.
She continued to stare at it curiously. "It rather looks like one, doesn't it?" she said softly. "I imagine you'll want to touch..." she gripped his arm in anticipation.
Harry glanced up. The Dementors were almost on top of them. He snatched up his glasses, then, with baited breath, gingerly put a finger on the tiny glass sphere.
Nothing.
Great, he thought, snatching up the glass orb and pocketing it inside his robe. They rushed over to where the sock still lay on the ground, a Dementor only two steps away from it -
Luna's legs gave out as she collapsed a few feet from the crumpled sock, one arm extended in desperation, dragging Harry along as she fell -
Harry didn't feel himself hitting the ground for several seconds, instead sensing the familiar abrupt pull of an active portkey, a swirl of colors and wind rushing by him, followed by a momentary dizziness -
He hit a very solid floor with great force, as though he'd fallen from a considerable height. Harry lost his grip on Voldemort's wand on impact, hearing it clatter away in the darkness -
He heard Luna gasp in pain next to him. It was pitch black; he couldn't see a thing. "Luna!"
"I'm...here..." she answered weakly.
Harry became aware of what sounded like the sounds of battle raging on somewhere above them. He quickly groped around in the dark on his hands and knees, searching for the wand. His hand closed on something.
"...foot..." whispered Luna.
"Sorry," said Harry, continuing his search. He heard the muffled sounds of people running down a staircase in the distance. He had to hurry.
"Ow!" he cried as he cracked his head on a heavy table leg.
"Harry?" Luna called out from the darkness.
"I'm okay," he answered, his head throbbing painfully. His hand brushed up against something loose on the floor, sending it rolling along -
Dang it, he thought, shuffling in the direction he thought he might have propelled it. He crawled quickly until finally his fingers wrapped themselves around a long wooden shaft.
"Lumos!"
The wand flickered slowly to life, though bathing the room in a strange oscillating glow varying between hues of orange and green. Luna was sitting up against the wall a few feet from him, her eyes closed. She was breathing with difficulty through her open mouth, one arm held tightly across her midsection. He had to get her out of here -
Harry glanced around. They appeared to be in a large study, possibly the same room from which they'd left, though he'd seen it so briefly previously there was no way to be sure.
"Luna, are you - "
Suddenly the door burst open, its hinges creaking precariously. Into the room ran the bedraggled figures of Bellatrix Lestrange followed by two Death Eaters.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry and Lestrange both shouted at once.
Harry's wand shot out a gust of dank wind which only served to blow his adversary's hair back, a split second before he was hit by her spell, being propelled violently backward into a large, heavy desk, Voldemort's wand flying loose - "Secure the door!" barked Lestrange.
Harry got to his feet, the small of his back aching painfully. He lunged -
Thin, snakelike ropes shot forth from Lestrange's wand and wrapped themselves tightly around him in mid-stride. He quickly lost his balance and crashed hard to the floor, hitting his head painfully.
"Well, what have we here?" said Bellatrix malevolently once the door had been locked and warded. "You've returned, have you? How strange that the Dark Lord would permit such - "
"Bellatrix!" one of the Death Eaters called from the door as Harry rolled himself on his side. "They're coming down, we can't stay here - "
"Let them come," said Lestrange casually. "I think they'll find a few surprises when they get here."
She picked up Voldemort's wand from under the desk where it had rolled, before turning to gaze darkly at Luna.
Harry watched as the two black-clad figures cast one charm after another on the heavy oak door in a desperate attempt to bar entry to whoever was approaching. His eyes grew wide as Lestrange approached Luna; the young Ravenclaw was very pale and was having increased difficulty breathing.
Bellatrix crouched down next to her, using her wand to brush back Luna's hair. "I see you no longer have your wand," said Lestrange. "I take it Master's plan was not in vain, then, though how you managed to elude him is curious - "
She turned to gaze to Harry, her eyes narrowing at his horrified expression. She turned her gaze to Luna, then back to Harry once more.
"Ooohh, you weally weally wuve this one, don't you, widdle baby Potter?" she said in her harsh mockery of an infant's voice. Luna's eyes popped open, staring intently at Harry.
"LEAVE HER ALONE!!" he screamed.
"Oh, I won't lay so much as a finger on her, widdle baby Potter," mocked Lestrange. She drew up, the tip of her wand drifting downward.
A yellow glow enveloped Luna as she flew up from the floor and crashed heavily against the far wall, knocking loose several portraits which clattered to the ground around her. "NO!!!"
Luna slowly stirred, painfully pushing herself up on hands and knees, one hand clutching her side. Her face was obscured by her long trailing sand- colored hair, though Harry glimpsed with horror the sight of blood streaming freely from her mouth, puddling on the floor. Her breathing was now very labored and halting -
Bellatrix leveled her wand. "Crucio!"
Luna's body stiffened abruptly as he pressed her forehead down against the floor, Harry seeing a pale, blood-stained hand clawing at the floor in silent agony.
"STOP IT!!!" he screamed, horror, helplessness and rage all fighting for supremacy within him.
"As you wish," said Bellatrix, flinging her wand once more as Luna's form flew up and crashed violently into a large curio near the door, shattering its front windows and porcelain contents with sickening force. Her limp form fell to the floor, trailing shards of glass and pottery all round her, blood splattered upon the cabinetry and adjacent wall. This time she did not stir.
"Mmmm, no," mused Bellatrix, glancing wickedly at Harry. "I do think she'd look much better over there, don't you?"
To Harry's unimaginable horror she flicked her wand yet again, as Luna shot up and crashed into a huge bookshelf on the wall behind him with such force that the massive book-filled cabinet tottered ominously, Lestrange's crazed eyes widening with anticipation -
- and then disappointment as it settled back in place. She aimed her wand at it, Harry's eyes swimming in tears, barely able to make anything out through the haze - he had to do something -
"VOLDEMORT'S DEAD!!" he screamed.
Lestrange hesitated. She slowly turned her head in his direction, and for a moment Harry thought he saw a glint of anxiety in her eyes. It lasted for but an instant however, as her face slowly contorted itself in a sinister grin.
"Nice try," she said, before turning her gaze back to the bookshelves.
"Where was I? Oh, yes, these should have fallen over, shouldn't they, widdle baby Potter?" said Lestrange, flicking her wand.
The huge bookshelf creaked and slowly tipped towards Luna's fallen, unmoving form. "NOOOOO!!!"
The large chandelier overhead suddenly broke from its moorings. Lestrange dove away in desperation and managed to avoid getting stuck by the barest of margins as it crashed noisily to the floor, bits of crystal and ironwork scattering around the room.
At the same instant the door exploded inwards in a shower of wood and splinters as a huge brown form pushed through its remains and rushed into the room, roaring furiously.
"HAGRID!!"
The two Death Eaters nearest to the door had stumbled back from the flying debris; the moment the one on the right had lowered his arm to look at his foe he was met by a massive fist. He was hit with such force that he made a complete revolution through the air and came to land on the floor, unmoving.
The second Death Eater was quickly struck down by a flash of light emanating from behind the gamekeeper. Harry saw though tear-stained glasses, a tall blonde woman emerge into the room, wand drawn.
"TRAITOROUS WENCH!!" screamed Bellatrix, jumping to her feet. She shot a last jinx at the bookcase and reached into her robes, vanishing into thin air just as two massive hands swung through the spot where she'd been standing an instant before.
Harry saw the bookcase tipping over. He desperately rolled next to Luna -
And felt a crushing, impossibly suffocating force slam into him, an intense, excruciating pain shooting through his body before the darkness overtook him...
* * *
There wasn't a hint of wind as Harry slowly knelt next to the gravestone, the grey, misty morning air dampening his hair. His glasses were heavily speckled with water droplets and his bones rattled with the cold, but he took no notice. Compared to his spirits, the weather was decidedly cheerful.
He looked about him. There were no birds to be seen, no squirrels, no one...lifeless...
Appropriate enough, he thought, as it was rather how he felt lately. Every moment, really, since that terrible, fateful day...
He still could hardly believe it, even after all this time. She was gone.
It had hadn't seemed possible at first, yet the passage of time had made it seem even less so. She'd always been so full of life...
And yet he knew it to be true. The void he'd felt in his heart upon losing Sirius had abruptly grown into a dark, gaping chasm that would never be filled, of this he was quite sure -
Hermione had been right, he now realized despairingly. She'd told him plainly that day in the library, about his feelings for Luna. Yet he'd deluded himself into thinking she was grasping at intangibles.
How wrong he'd been. He knew that now.
But much too late...
It had taken Luna's death for Harry to truly realize his feelings. He'd been so blind, so stupid, waited so long...
In his heart he'd known this for some time; yet his brain had somehow fooled him into thinking otherwise...
Hermione had tried to bring some solace by telling him it hadn't been as easy for him to recognize as it had been with Cho, as it had been much more than a simple attraction; it had become much more profound than that with Luna, he realized painfully.
But it was all for naught now. All he had left were memories, which he clutched at desperately in his every waking moments. He closed his eyes and thought back to the day he'd encountered Luna in the hall, when he'd suddenly seen her in a different light for the first time. How she'd stood there, smiling and full of confidence, telling him that everything would somehow be made right -
They always come back in the end, she had told him...
He so wished to believe that now; he'd tried desperately to will it to happen...but willpower alone could not alter the passage of time.
He feebly lay a single rose upon the snow-dusted stone slab. The tears came trailing as they had each day before. No one had even tried to tell him it was high time to move on.
They knew.
For him, there would be no moving on from this...
It had been an unbearable loss. Worse, Harry felt with more than a twinge of rage, it had been a sacrilege. To rob the world of someone so unique, so wonderful was beyond comprehension. He asked himself the same wrenching question he'd screamed in his mind every day. WHY?
"Why what?" a vague voice sounded nearby. He drew up and wiped his eyes before looking at the figure which had noiselessly come to sit next to him.
Every muscle in his body suddenly tensed at the sight which greeted his reddened eyes. He gaped open-mouthed at the pale, transluscent apparition of Luna, sitting cross-legged to his left, gazing back at him dreamily. She had a small, though very solid looking wooden bowl cradled in her lap, a spoon held daintily in one hand. He stared wide-eyed as she serenely helped herself to a spoonful of what seemed very much like pudding.
"L-Luna??" he asked breathlessly.
"Hello Harry," she said vaguely, holding out her full spoon in front of him. "Would you like some pudding? It's really rather good."
Harry was transfixed, stunned beyond words. His heart and stomach were doing every possible contortion within him. He reached out with one hand but then hesitated...would she dissipate if he touched her?
"I...Luna...you...y-you're a...a ghost??"
She nodded serenely. "It's much easier getting around Hogwarts this way, actually," she said dreamily. "It's no wonder the Grey Lady hears so much gossip, really. Anyway, are you sure you won't try some?"
She held out another spoonful of pudding.
Harry blinked. "How can...but...I...this...you're...eating??"
She nodded sagely before taking in another spoonful. She gazed down at the gravestone.
"Who is that?" she asked curiously.
Harry turned to look at her grave marker. "I...well that's...I mean...don't you know??"
She turned back to him. "Well, it's your dream," she said. "I only just got here, you know. You were rather hard to find, actually."
"W-what??" asked Harry incredulously.
Luna looked thoughtful for a moment as she gazed at him. "You never have very happy dreams, do you?" she said.
"I..." Harry was stupefied.
Luna put her pudding aside and drew close, gazing at him with her large, ghostly silver eyes. "It won't always be like this, you know," she said softly.
Harry had a million words in his throat trying to get out at once, and so none emerged.
Luna turned to gaze at the gravestone again, staring at the rose lying atop the snow-covered slab. "You're dreaming you just lost someone, aren't you? Someone close..."
"It's...that's..." Harry cut himself off. It wasn't a dream, much as he desperately wished it was.
Is it?
Luna looked at him. "Well, we may as well be getting back," she said dreamily. "They'll be getting worried by now, I imagine."
"Huh?"
She smiled at him. And disappeared.
"GGAAAAHHH!!!" screamed Harry, trashing about violently.
"EEYYYAAAHHHH!!!" screamed Ron even more loudly, having been abruptly jarred from his slumber in the chair next to him.
Harry sat up in a strange bed. He wasn't in the Gryffindor dormitory or the Hospital Wing, that much was certain. This room was quite small, cube- shaped with pale green walls, dimly lit by a softly glowing lamp on his bedside.
"Harry!" exclaimed Ron breathlessly, pushing himself back up into his chair. "You're awake!"
Harry drew himself into a more upright position. He had to get his bearings, he was completely lost.
"What...where am I?"
"St. Mungo's, mate," said Ron, dragging the chair nearer. "You've been here for two days now. How're you feeling?"
Harry reached over and took his glasses from the cluttered night table, knocking over a box of chocolate frogs in the process. The small windowless room was unadorned save for his bed, the night stand, a small cabinet and a large portrait of Mungo Bonham adorning the wall facing the foot of his bed. Several chairs were scattered around the room, though Ron's was currently the only one occupied.
"Luna..." said Harry cautiously, almost dreading to hear the answer, "is she..."
Ron hesitated. Harry's stomach convulsed.
"She's in the next room," said Ron softly. "They didn't think she was going to make it for a while there; she was in a really bad way, blimey she was. But she's doing loads better now."
Harry let himself drop back upon his pillows, an overwhelming feeling of euphoria sweeping over him as he pushed his glasses up on his forehead and wiped his eyes. He noticed a heavy bandage wrapped around his left hand where he'd been struck by Voldemort's dagger. It still felt quite sore, though it could hardly dampen his spirits now.
"I can't believe this - " he said hoarsely.
"Hey, you all right?" asked Ron with concern.
"Oh...am I ever," answered Harry, flopping his arms back to his sides and grinning up at the ceiling, the exhilaration of life returning to him. The dream had seemed so real...but it had been a dream, after all...
"Well thank Merlin for that," said Ron. "We've all been worried sick. Hagrid said you rolled yourself under a big bookshelf that knocked you out; he said that's probably what saved Luna's life, 'cause otherwise the whole weight would've come down on her."
Harry pushed himself back up again. "Is she awake?"
"Not so far," answered Ron. "You've both been under since day before yesterday. But the Healers said she's out of danger now, at least."
Harry nodded solemnly. He made to get up -
"Hey, whoa there, mate," said Ron quickly. "They said you're not supposed to leave until they've checked you out."
Harry's feet were dangling over the side of the bed; he desperately wanted to go see Luna. She'd been in his dream and seemed to be aware of it...or had that just been part of his imaginings also?
"Well, can you go get a Healer then?" asked Harry. "I'd really like to go see her."
"Uh...well, yeah sure, hang on."
Ron got up and exited the room quietly. Harry searched through all the treats on his bedside table and dug out his watch, which revealed it to be just past three in the morning. He propped up the pillows against the on his bed and sat back against them.
He held up his left hand and examined it a bit more carefully. He tried squeezing it, but quickly abandoned the attempt at the sudden jolt of pain which ran through his arm all the way to his shoulder. He felt fine otherwise, though; clearly the Healers had done an admirable job of repairing whatever damage the massive bookshelf had inflicted.
Still, it was strange that a simple stab wound had gone untreated save for a simple bandage. Maybe they just decided to leave it for when he was awake, he mused.
In any event, a sore hand was a small price to pay to discover that all was suddenly right in his world. He pinched himself, just in case he was going through yet another dream.
"Ow," he said, grinning.
Moments later Hermione came rushing into the room, followed by Ron, Professor Dumbledore and an aged and stooped old Healer he didn't recognize. Though it was very early in the morning, the Headmaster was clad in a resplendent sky blue robe and pointed hat, as though it were midday.
Hermione jumped on the bed and gave Harry a huge hug; had he not been sitting up against the headstand he would surely have fallen flat on his back.
"I've been so worried!" she cried.
"Hey, I'm okay," said Harry reassuringly as the old Healer began looking him over, which made him feel a bit awkward, being as he was still clutched in mid-hug.
"Uh, well, except for my hand, here," he added. Hermione drew back, her eyes red with tears and exhaustion. It looked to Harry as though she hadn't slept since they'd arrived. She gazed down at his bandaged hand.
"Well...yes, we noticed that, Harry," she said sadly. She looked back at him. "The healers said it looked to be the kind of wound inflicted by a Dark Blade."
"Didn' just look like it," said the old Healer, taking Harry's glasses off and pointing a brightly lit wand in his eyes. "There's no doubt at all, in my reckonin'."
Harry squinted at the bright light shining in his eyes. "It was Voldemort's dagger," he said. "Why won't it heal?"
"Stop squintin'!" the old Healer told him.
"Hey, it's not easy with you holding that light so close - " countered Harry.
Hermione's eyes had widened precipitously. "You...you saw him?"
Dumbledore, who had been standing serenely at the foot of the bed while the Healer was making his examination, looked at Harry intently.
"Yeah, we both did," Harry said.
Dumbledore came and sat in the chair next to him. "Harry," he said softly, "please describe what took place."
Harry looked at him, and for a moment his old anger threatened to resurface. He was being asked to provide information to someone who had hid so much from him, after all. But the sight of the old Headmaster's concerned gaze made him quickly push aside his misgivings, before proceeding to recount everything that had happened since he and Luna had left the Three Broomsticks.
"Blimey," said Ron in awe several minutes later, after the Healer had left. "That's...bloody hell..."
Hermione was sitting on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands.
Dumbledore looked very grave. "This is consistent with what we'd theorized, Harry," he said somberly.
Harry looked at him. "What do you mean?"
The old Headmaster sighed. "It would appear that Mr. Malfoy attempted to regain his standing with the Dark Lord by revealing our plans to capture Bellatrix Lestrange," he said heavily. "I'm afraid he does not understand that there is no going back once Lord Voldemort cast him out. It would seem that he and I need to have a little chat."
"Lestrange!" exclaimed Harry, as their plan suddenly came back to him. "Did we - "
"I'm afraid not, Harry," said Dumbledore sadly. "While we captured most of the Death Eaters involved, she was able to make her escape by using a Portkey. She is, alas, still at large."
Harry felt a dark cloud descend upon him. With Lestrange beyond their reach - "What...what's going to happen to Luna's father?" he asked, though he dreaded the answer.
Dumbledore looked at him very seriously for several moments. "I'm afraid we may never know, Harry."
Harry gaped at him, incredulous.
"THAT'S IT??" he yelled, outraged at the Headmaster's passive acceptance of the fact. "YOU"RE NOT EVEN GOING TO TRY??"
"Harry," said Hermione tearfully, taking hold of his arm, "there's really nothing anyone can do now...I'm so sorry..."
Harry was about to turn his anger on her when the sight of her tearful eyes drove all dark anger from his mind.
Hermione was never one to give up, he realized, if there was even a sliver of a chance...
They were all silent. Hermione was staring at her feet dangling over the side of the bed, looking thoroughly dejected; Ron looked little better.
Dumbledore stood. "Well, if you will permit me, Harry, I must go convey this information to Miss Lovegood."
Harry looked up at him. "She...she's awake?"
"Oh yes," said Dumbledore. "She woke just minutes ago, as we were coming up, in fact. The Healers were examining her for any lingering effects, though I expect she will need to remain here a little while longer."
Harry threw off his blankets and sat over the edge of the bed. "Professor," he said, "I'd...like to be the one to tell her..."
Dumbledore paused for a moment near the door. "If you are quite certain, Harry?"
"Yes," said Harry resolutely as he slipped out of bed, his bare feet touching the cold floor.
"Harry," whispered Hermione as she caught Ron's arm, as he had stood and was getting ready to follow Harry out. "I...expect you'd rather be alone for this..."
He looked at her. She was staring at him with reddened eyes, her cheeks stained with dried tears. He nodded slowly. "Thanks, Hermione."
It was a bit chilly with only his hospital gown, so Harry grabbed his cloak off the peg next to the door. As he drew it on, he felt an unexpected weight in his inside pocket. Suddenly remembering the small glass sphere, he pulled it out and handed it to Dumbledore.
"Voldemort dropped this," he said tiredly. "When we were fighting. I thought it might be a portkey or something, but..."
Dumbledore held it up to his nose, inspecting it at length. "Interesting...indeed, most interesting. Dropped by Lord Voldemort, you say..."
Harry was about to ask if it might be another Prophecy, but he didn't have the stomach to hear any more. He decided to leave it with the Headmaster and proceeded out.
He walked the short distance to the next room to find Luna sitting up, Ginny and Neville sitting in chairs around her bed and keeping her company. The sight of her alive and apparently well both exhilarated and disheartened him. He absolutely hated to bring her news that Lestrange had escaped, yet to let the responsibility fall on someone else do it while he lay comfortably in the other room was unconscionable.
"Harry!" exclaimed Neville. Ginny snapped her head around at him. "Hey! It's sleepy head!"
"Hello Harry," said Luna, smiling dreamily.
"Er, hi," said Harry, giving a rather forced smile. "Um...listen...could I, er, have a minute alone..."
Ginny seemed to understand quickly, seeing his forlorn expression. "Sure, Harry," she said softly, taking a confused and stammering Neville by the arm and pulling him outside and closing the door behind her.
Luna gazed at him. "Harry, are you unwell? You seem rather sad."
"Oh, I'm all right," he said. He hesitated a moment, not knowing wether to take a seat or to remain standing. Luna seemed to sense his indecision and make it easy for him.
"Here," she said, drawing up straighter in bed and moving her legs to make room for him.
He hesitated again. There were so many things going through his mind at the moment, he was finding it difficult knowing where to begin.
Luna gently patted the bed sheets.
"I think we need to talk, Harry," she said solemnly.
He was startled by her tone, which wasn't at all dreamy. Rather, her voice and demeanor were very serious as Harry gingerly sat down on the bed, having decided to let her have the first word.
To his surprise, she just stared at him in silence.
"Er..." said Harry. He'd thought she wanted to discuss something, so her ensuing silence now greatly confused him.
She continued to stare, her large silver eyes fixed on his, unblinking and serious.
Well, they couldn't just sit in silence forever, he realized, so he decided a little prodding might help things along.
"What did you say we need to talk about?" he asked gently.
"I think you know," she answered quietly, her gaze boring into him.
Harry swallowed hard. She sounded almost accusatory. He opened his mouth and tried to form words.
"Er...well...I uh, Dumbledore told me...he..."
Luna sighed. "Well," she said finally, "It's what that Lestrange lady said, Harry..."
Harry blinked. Lestrange?? He thought back...
She hadn't said anything of note, so far as Harry could remember. Certainly nothing that could help the Order, at any rate. And Luna...
Oh, wait, he thought. Luna had opened her eyes just after Lestrange had spoken...
'Ooohh, you weally weally wuve this one, don't you, widdle baby Potter?' she'd said.
Harry looked at Luna, her large, unblinking silver eyes staring at him with decided sombreness.
"I...remember," he said cautiously.
"Was it true?" she asked, her voice strangely doleful.
It was true, Harry now realized full well. But Luna's reaction was not at all what he'd expected; all the dreaminess and detachment that was so prevalent in the young Ravenclaw had been suddenly stripped away, and he was no longer sure what to expect...dare he tell her?
"That grave, in your dream," said Luna softly, "the one you put that rose on...that was mine, wasn't it?"
Harry felt his insides twisting...this was not at all what he'd expected to deal with upon coming here...
"Is it true?" she asked again.
Harry looked at his feet and opened his mouth.
"Harry, look at me," said Luna.
He raised his eyes to hers and knew at that instant he couldn't lie to her, even though it could mean the end to their friendship...which was becoming a distinct possibility, especially the way she was going on...
He swallowed hard.
"Is it true?" she repeated once more in a whisper.
"Yes," he said finally, his voice sounding strange in his ears. "Yes, it's true, Luna..."
She stared at him in silence for several long, agonizing moments. She sighed softly, before slowly drawing back her blankets to come and sit next to him, her large silver eyes a mere hand's width from his. He thought he saw something glimmer in their silvery depths...
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" she asked softly.
Harry looked at her intently for any sign. Her expression was completely blank.
"I...I...didn't know..."
She tilted her head slightly as she looked at him. "No..." she said softly, looking thoughtful. "No, I don't suppose you did..."
He gaped at her. There was a definite twinkle now in her eyes, and her mouth was having some trouble concealing a faint hint of a smile. She leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder with an airy sigh.
"Well," she whispered, "I really should have been more observant also, I suppose. Ginny tried to tell me once but I thought she was being rather fantastical, you know..."
"You...you're not mad?"
She let out a small giggle. "Some people rather think so, actually."
"Oh, I meant upset," he corrected.
"Well, upset that you didn't tell me, yes," she said, though her voice was now sprinkled with mirth.
"Sorry about that," said Harry.
"All is forgiven," said Luna melodiously.
Harry hesitantly drew a protective arm around her shoulders; but upon completing that move, he felt her relax against him, feeling so natural that it was as though he'd been doing it for years.
She turned her head and looked up at him, his face reflected in her large silver eyes -
"WAIT! STOP!! DESIST!!" a powerful bellow suddenly reverberated throughout the small room as the had door burst open to reveal the odd sight of the Headmaster rushing headlong in a huff.
Harry was so startled by the violent interruption that he involuntarily jumped, lost his balance and fell off the bed, landing on his backside, while Luna stared wide-eyed at the doorway.
"Oh," the Headmaster said as he glanced between the two of them. "Terribly sorry. Alas, I thought that I should interrupt before certain things were...discussed - "
"Merlin's beard!" Harry barked up at him. "You could've at least knocked!"
He noticed that Dumbledore was still holding the strange crystal sphere Harry had given him, though the soft glow it had been emitting had somehow been extinguished.
"Yes, well," said Dumbledore apologetically, though for some reason there was a definite twinkle in his clear blue eyes, "I'm afraid there is a visitor for Miss Lovegood, you see Harry, and I thought it best that she see him forthwith."
With that, he moved from the doorway to reveal a tall man behind him.
He looked rather bewildered, Harry thought. He had sandy brown hair, hazel eyes and several days of dirty blonde stubble on his face, and a look of benign congeniality that reminded Harry very much of Arthur Weasley. Harry had never seen the man before in his life, but he knew instantly who this stranger was.
Luna's eyes had widened into saucers at the sight of him.
"DADDY!!!" she squealed, leaping off her bed and running over to him, jumping up into his outstretched arms as he stumbled back against the door frame, squeezing her tightly.
"Snookums!" he cried, burying his face in her long, dirty blonde hair.
Ron and Hermione, who had drifted into the room behind him Dumbledore, glanced at each other.
Snookums? they silently mouthed at each other, eyebrows raised.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!"
Luna's father almost dropped her in his haste to put her down. "Luna, what's wrong?" he asked, grave concern etched on his face. "You're hurt?!?"
But Luna was laughing, her silver eyes swimming in tears of mirth, one hand clutching her side. "It's...still...sore..." she said breathlessly in between fits of laughter.
Harry got to his feet. "Mister Lovegood?"
"Well, d'uh!" exclaimed Ginny, having just entered the room behind Ron and Hermione, Neville following close behind.
"That would be me," the man said. "Though I have to confess I'm at something of a loss to explain how I came to be here."
"Well have a seat," said Ginny, jumping into one of the empty chairs. "Have we ever got a story for you..."
Luna sighed softly and tugged on his sleeve. Harry could see plainly she wasn't going to be able to outrun them, yet making any attempt to stand their ground wasn't an option. Neither one of them had a wand now, and unless one of them could spontaneously summon a Patronus without one...
Harry caught a glint of something on the cobblestones where he'd just tackled Voldemort...a wand!
He ran over to it and snatched it up, suddenly realizing with mortification it held no power here; he might as well be brandishing a twig at the approaching horrors.
Luna had joined him and grasped his arm tightly, wether in urgency or to keep from falling he couldn't tell.
"Harry," she said softly, "I suppose this would be a good time to leave - "
But Harry knew it was useless to run. Luna could barely stand as it was; and while he could easily carry her, there was no way he could do so and outrun a group of Dementors. And even if he could, where could they go? The portal that lay a half hour's walk from here only worked one way. They were trapped.
Harry shivered at the thought of dying at the hands of those horrid wilting creatures. It was said the Dementors' Kiss would extinguish one's soul - he would never allow that.
He looked to the wall of green flames silently fluttering a few feet away; it provided the only escape...though the consequences were utterly unknown. He took a deep breath and made an agonizing decision.
"We can't let them get us, Luna - "
He felt Luna squeeze his arm gently. "They won't," she said reassuringly. "I brought that old sock with me."
Harry whirled on her, his eyes wide as saucers. "Luna!!"
"Well," she said, opening the drawstring of her small bag and turning it upside down, the tattered old sock flopping to the ground, "you'd best get your glasses before they do - "
Harry felt hope surge through him at the sight of the Portkey. He hadn't even realized his glasses had been knocked off during the scuffle with Voldemort. He looked around his feet, very conscious of the Dementors' approach -
He saw a glimmer on the ground and bent down to pick it up, stopping just short when he saw it was a softly glowing glass sphere slightly smaller than his fist. Voldemort must have dropped this, he realized. He decided to bring it along, concluding it had to be artifact of some importance to be carried on the person of the Dark Lord.
He went to pick it up, hesitating at the last moment. Could it be another portkey? Where would it lead if it was? Did he dare?
"Harry? There isn't much time - " Luna voiced behind him.
"There's something here," he replied, seeing the Dementors spreading out on either side of the circle of flames, clearly intent on cutting off their retreat. "I'm not exactly sure what it might be - "
Luna joined him, one hand still clutching her ribs as she gazed down at the glowing crystal sphere.
"Could it be another Prophecy?" asked Harry.
She continued to stare at it curiously. "It rather looks like one, doesn't it?" she said softly. "I imagine you'll want to touch..." she gripped his arm in anticipation.
Harry glanced up. The Dementors were almost on top of them. He snatched up his glasses, then, with baited breath, gingerly put a finger on the tiny glass sphere.
Nothing.
Great, he thought, snatching up the glass orb and pocketing it inside his robe. They rushed over to where the sock still lay on the ground, a Dementor only two steps away from it -
Luna's legs gave out as she collapsed a few feet from the crumpled sock, one arm extended in desperation, dragging Harry along as she fell -
Harry didn't feel himself hitting the ground for several seconds, instead sensing the familiar abrupt pull of an active portkey, a swirl of colors and wind rushing by him, followed by a momentary dizziness -
He hit a very solid floor with great force, as though he'd fallen from a considerable height. Harry lost his grip on Voldemort's wand on impact, hearing it clatter away in the darkness -
He heard Luna gasp in pain next to him. It was pitch black; he couldn't see a thing. "Luna!"
"I'm...here..." she answered weakly.
Harry became aware of what sounded like the sounds of battle raging on somewhere above them. He quickly groped around in the dark on his hands and knees, searching for the wand. His hand closed on something.
"...foot..." whispered Luna.
"Sorry," said Harry, continuing his search. He heard the muffled sounds of people running down a staircase in the distance. He had to hurry.
"Ow!" he cried as he cracked his head on a heavy table leg.
"Harry?" Luna called out from the darkness.
"I'm okay," he answered, his head throbbing painfully. His hand brushed up against something loose on the floor, sending it rolling along -
Dang it, he thought, shuffling in the direction he thought he might have propelled it. He crawled quickly until finally his fingers wrapped themselves around a long wooden shaft.
"Lumos!"
The wand flickered slowly to life, though bathing the room in a strange oscillating glow varying between hues of orange and green. Luna was sitting up against the wall a few feet from him, her eyes closed. She was breathing with difficulty through her open mouth, one arm held tightly across her midsection. He had to get her out of here -
Harry glanced around. They appeared to be in a large study, possibly the same room from which they'd left, though he'd seen it so briefly previously there was no way to be sure.
"Luna, are you - "
Suddenly the door burst open, its hinges creaking precariously. Into the room ran the bedraggled figures of Bellatrix Lestrange followed by two Death Eaters.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry and Lestrange both shouted at once.
Harry's wand shot out a gust of dank wind which only served to blow his adversary's hair back, a split second before he was hit by her spell, being propelled violently backward into a large, heavy desk, Voldemort's wand flying loose - "Secure the door!" barked Lestrange.
Harry got to his feet, the small of his back aching painfully. He lunged -
Thin, snakelike ropes shot forth from Lestrange's wand and wrapped themselves tightly around him in mid-stride. He quickly lost his balance and crashed hard to the floor, hitting his head painfully.
"Well, what have we here?" said Bellatrix malevolently once the door had been locked and warded. "You've returned, have you? How strange that the Dark Lord would permit such - "
"Bellatrix!" one of the Death Eaters called from the door as Harry rolled himself on his side. "They're coming down, we can't stay here - "
"Let them come," said Lestrange casually. "I think they'll find a few surprises when they get here."
She picked up Voldemort's wand from under the desk where it had rolled, before turning to gaze darkly at Luna.
Harry watched as the two black-clad figures cast one charm after another on the heavy oak door in a desperate attempt to bar entry to whoever was approaching. His eyes grew wide as Lestrange approached Luna; the young Ravenclaw was very pale and was having increased difficulty breathing.
Bellatrix crouched down next to her, using her wand to brush back Luna's hair. "I see you no longer have your wand," said Lestrange. "I take it Master's plan was not in vain, then, though how you managed to elude him is curious - "
She turned to gaze to Harry, her eyes narrowing at his horrified expression. She turned her gaze to Luna, then back to Harry once more.
"Ooohh, you weally weally wuve this one, don't you, widdle baby Potter?" she said in her harsh mockery of an infant's voice. Luna's eyes popped open, staring intently at Harry.
"LEAVE HER ALONE!!" he screamed.
"Oh, I won't lay so much as a finger on her, widdle baby Potter," mocked Lestrange. She drew up, the tip of her wand drifting downward.
A yellow glow enveloped Luna as she flew up from the floor and crashed heavily against the far wall, knocking loose several portraits which clattered to the ground around her. "NO!!!"
Luna slowly stirred, painfully pushing herself up on hands and knees, one hand clutching her side. Her face was obscured by her long trailing sand- colored hair, though Harry glimpsed with horror the sight of blood streaming freely from her mouth, puddling on the floor. Her breathing was now very labored and halting -
Bellatrix leveled her wand. "Crucio!"
Luna's body stiffened abruptly as he pressed her forehead down against the floor, Harry seeing a pale, blood-stained hand clawing at the floor in silent agony.
"STOP IT!!!" he screamed, horror, helplessness and rage all fighting for supremacy within him.
"As you wish," said Bellatrix, flinging her wand once more as Luna's form flew up and crashed violently into a large curio near the door, shattering its front windows and porcelain contents with sickening force. Her limp form fell to the floor, trailing shards of glass and pottery all round her, blood splattered upon the cabinetry and adjacent wall. This time she did not stir.
"Mmmm, no," mused Bellatrix, glancing wickedly at Harry. "I do think she'd look much better over there, don't you?"
To Harry's unimaginable horror she flicked her wand yet again, as Luna shot up and crashed into a huge bookshelf on the wall behind him with such force that the massive book-filled cabinet tottered ominously, Lestrange's crazed eyes widening with anticipation -
- and then disappointment as it settled back in place. She aimed her wand at it, Harry's eyes swimming in tears, barely able to make anything out through the haze - he had to do something -
"VOLDEMORT'S DEAD!!" he screamed.
Lestrange hesitated. She slowly turned her head in his direction, and for a moment Harry thought he saw a glint of anxiety in her eyes. It lasted for but an instant however, as her face slowly contorted itself in a sinister grin.
"Nice try," she said, before turning her gaze back to the bookshelves.
"Where was I? Oh, yes, these should have fallen over, shouldn't they, widdle baby Potter?" said Lestrange, flicking her wand.
The huge bookshelf creaked and slowly tipped towards Luna's fallen, unmoving form. "NOOOOO!!!"
The large chandelier overhead suddenly broke from its moorings. Lestrange dove away in desperation and managed to avoid getting stuck by the barest of margins as it crashed noisily to the floor, bits of crystal and ironwork scattering around the room.
At the same instant the door exploded inwards in a shower of wood and splinters as a huge brown form pushed through its remains and rushed into the room, roaring furiously.
"HAGRID!!"
The two Death Eaters nearest to the door had stumbled back from the flying debris; the moment the one on the right had lowered his arm to look at his foe he was met by a massive fist. He was hit with such force that he made a complete revolution through the air and came to land on the floor, unmoving.
The second Death Eater was quickly struck down by a flash of light emanating from behind the gamekeeper. Harry saw though tear-stained glasses, a tall blonde woman emerge into the room, wand drawn.
"TRAITOROUS WENCH!!" screamed Bellatrix, jumping to her feet. She shot a last jinx at the bookcase and reached into her robes, vanishing into thin air just as two massive hands swung through the spot where she'd been standing an instant before.
Harry saw the bookcase tipping over. He desperately rolled next to Luna -
And felt a crushing, impossibly suffocating force slam into him, an intense, excruciating pain shooting through his body before the darkness overtook him...
* * *
There wasn't a hint of wind as Harry slowly knelt next to the gravestone, the grey, misty morning air dampening his hair. His glasses were heavily speckled with water droplets and his bones rattled with the cold, but he took no notice. Compared to his spirits, the weather was decidedly cheerful.
He looked about him. There were no birds to be seen, no squirrels, no one...lifeless...
Appropriate enough, he thought, as it was rather how he felt lately. Every moment, really, since that terrible, fateful day...
He still could hardly believe it, even after all this time. She was gone.
It had hadn't seemed possible at first, yet the passage of time had made it seem even less so. She'd always been so full of life...
And yet he knew it to be true. The void he'd felt in his heart upon losing Sirius had abruptly grown into a dark, gaping chasm that would never be filled, of this he was quite sure -
Hermione had been right, he now realized despairingly. She'd told him plainly that day in the library, about his feelings for Luna. Yet he'd deluded himself into thinking she was grasping at intangibles.
How wrong he'd been. He knew that now.
But much too late...
It had taken Luna's death for Harry to truly realize his feelings. He'd been so blind, so stupid, waited so long...
In his heart he'd known this for some time; yet his brain had somehow fooled him into thinking otherwise...
Hermione had tried to bring some solace by telling him it hadn't been as easy for him to recognize as it had been with Cho, as it had been much more than a simple attraction; it had become much more profound than that with Luna, he realized painfully.
But it was all for naught now. All he had left were memories, which he clutched at desperately in his every waking moments. He closed his eyes and thought back to the day he'd encountered Luna in the hall, when he'd suddenly seen her in a different light for the first time. How she'd stood there, smiling and full of confidence, telling him that everything would somehow be made right -
They always come back in the end, she had told him...
He so wished to believe that now; he'd tried desperately to will it to happen...but willpower alone could not alter the passage of time.
He feebly lay a single rose upon the snow-dusted stone slab. The tears came trailing as they had each day before. No one had even tried to tell him it was high time to move on.
They knew.
For him, there would be no moving on from this...
It had been an unbearable loss. Worse, Harry felt with more than a twinge of rage, it had been a sacrilege. To rob the world of someone so unique, so wonderful was beyond comprehension. He asked himself the same wrenching question he'd screamed in his mind every day. WHY?
"Why what?" a vague voice sounded nearby. He drew up and wiped his eyes before looking at the figure which had noiselessly come to sit next to him.
Every muscle in his body suddenly tensed at the sight which greeted his reddened eyes. He gaped open-mouthed at the pale, transluscent apparition of Luna, sitting cross-legged to his left, gazing back at him dreamily. She had a small, though very solid looking wooden bowl cradled in her lap, a spoon held daintily in one hand. He stared wide-eyed as she serenely helped herself to a spoonful of what seemed very much like pudding.
"L-Luna??" he asked breathlessly.
"Hello Harry," she said vaguely, holding out her full spoon in front of him. "Would you like some pudding? It's really rather good."
Harry was transfixed, stunned beyond words. His heart and stomach were doing every possible contortion within him. He reached out with one hand but then hesitated...would she dissipate if he touched her?
"I...Luna...you...y-you're a...a ghost??"
She nodded serenely. "It's much easier getting around Hogwarts this way, actually," she said dreamily. "It's no wonder the Grey Lady hears so much gossip, really. Anyway, are you sure you won't try some?"
She held out another spoonful of pudding.
Harry blinked. "How can...but...I...this...you're...eating??"
She nodded sagely before taking in another spoonful. She gazed down at the gravestone.
"Who is that?" she asked curiously.
Harry turned to look at her grave marker. "I...well that's...I mean...don't you know??"
She turned back to him. "Well, it's your dream," she said. "I only just got here, you know. You were rather hard to find, actually."
"W-what??" asked Harry incredulously.
Luna looked thoughtful for a moment as she gazed at him. "You never have very happy dreams, do you?" she said.
"I..." Harry was stupefied.
Luna put her pudding aside and drew close, gazing at him with her large, ghostly silver eyes. "It won't always be like this, you know," she said softly.
Harry had a million words in his throat trying to get out at once, and so none emerged.
Luna turned to gaze at the gravestone again, staring at the rose lying atop the snow-covered slab. "You're dreaming you just lost someone, aren't you? Someone close..."
"It's...that's..." Harry cut himself off. It wasn't a dream, much as he desperately wished it was.
Is it?
Luna looked at him. "Well, we may as well be getting back," she said dreamily. "They'll be getting worried by now, I imagine."
"Huh?"
She smiled at him. And disappeared.
"GGAAAAHHH!!!" screamed Harry, trashing about violently.
"EEYYYAAAHHHH!!!" screamed Ron even more loudly, having been abruptly jarred from his slumber in the chair next to him.
Harry sat up in a strange bed. He wasn't in the Gryffindor dormitory or the Hospital Wing, that much was certain. This room was quite small, cube- shaped with pale green walls, dimly lit by a softly glowing lamp on his bedside.
"Harry!" exclaimed Ron breathlessly, pushing himself back up into his chair. "You're awake!"
Harry drew himself into a more upright position. He had to get his bearings, he was completely lost.
"What...where am I?"
"St. Mungo's, mate," said Ron, dragging the chair nearer. "You've been here for two days now. How're you feeling?"
Harry reached over and took his glasses from the cluttered night table, knocking over a box of chocolate frogs in the process. The small windowless room was unadorned save for his bed, the night stand, a small cabinet and a large portrait of Mungo Bonham adorning the wall facing the foot of his bed. Several chairs were scattered around the room, though Ron's was currently the only one occupied.
"Luna..." said Harry cautiously, almost dreading to hear the answer, "is she..."
Ron hesitated. Harry's stomach convulsed.
"She's in the next room," said Ron softly. "They didn't think she was going to make it for a while there; she was in a really bad way, blimey she was. But she's doing loads better now."
Harry let himself drop back upon his pillows, an overwhelming feeling of euphoria sweeping over him as he pushed his glasses up on his forehead and wiped his eyes. He noticed a heavy bandage wrapped around his left hand where he'd been struck by Voldemort's dagger. It still felt quite sore, though it could hardly dampen his spirits now.
"I can't believe this - " he said hoarsely.
"Hey, you all right?" asked Ron with concern.
"Oh...am I ever," answered Harry, flopping his arms back to his sides and grinning up at the ceiling, the exhilaration of life returning to him. The dream had seemed so real...but it had been a dream, after all...
"Well thank Merlin for that," said Ron. "We've all been worried sick. Hagrid said you rolled yourself under a big bookshelf that knocked you out; he said that's probably what saved Luna's life, 'cause otherwise the whole weight would've come down on her."
Harry pushed himself back up again. "Is she awake?"
"Not so far," answered Ron. "You've both been under since day before yesterday. But the Healers said she's out of danger now, at least."
Harry nodded solemnly. He made to get up -
"Hey, whoa there, mate," said Ron quickly. "They said you're not supposed to leave until they've checked you out."
Harry's feet were dangling over the side of the bed; he desperately wanted to go see Luna. She'd been in his dream and seemed to be aware of it...or had that just been part of his imaginings also?
"Well, can you go get a Healer then?" asked Harry. "I'd really like to go see her."
"Uh...well, yeah sure, hang on."
Ron got up and exited the room quietly. Harry searched through all the treats on his bedside table and dug out his watch, which revealed it to be just past three in the morning. He propped up the pillows against the on his bed and sat back against them.
He held up his left hand and examined it a bit more carefully. He tried squeezing it, but quickly abandoned the attempt at the sudden jolt of pain which ran through his arm all the way to his shoulder. He felt fine otherwise, though; clearly the Healers had done an admirable job of repairing whatever damage the massive bookshelf had inflicted.
Still, it was strange that a simple stab wound had gone untreated save for a simple bandage. Maybe they just decided to leave it for when he was awake, he mused.
In any event, a sore hand was a small price to pay to discover that all was suddenly right in his world. He pinched himself, just in case he was going through yet another dream.
"Ow," he said, grinning.
Moments later Hermione came rushing into the room, followed by Ron, Professor Dumbledore and an aged and stooped old Healer he didn't recognize. Though it was very early in the morning, the Headmaster was clad in a resplendent sky blue robe and pointed hat, as though it were midday.
Hermione jumped on the bed and gave Harry a huge hug; had he not been sitting up against the headstand he would surely have fallen flat on his back.
"I've been so worried!" she cried.
"Hey, I'm okay," said Harry reassuringly as the old Healer began looking him over, which made him feel a bit awkward, being as he was still clutched in mid-hug.
"Uh, well, except for my hand, here," he added. Hermione drew back, her eyes red with tears and exhaustion. It looked to Harry as though she hadn't slept since they'd arrived. She gazed down at his bandaged hand.
"Well...yes, we noticed that, Harry," she said sadly. She looked back at him. "The healers said it looked to be the kind of wound inflicted by a Dark Blade."
"Didn' just look like it," said the old Healer, taking Harry's glasses off and pointing a brightly lit wand in his eyes. "There's no doubt at all, in my reckonin'."
Harry squinted at the bright light shining in his eyes. "It was Voldemort's dagger," he said. "Why won't it heal?"
"Stop squintin'!" the old Healer told him.
"Hey, it's not easy with you holding that light so close - " countered Harry.
Hermione's eyes had widened precipitously. "You...you saw him?"
Dumbledore, who had been standing serenely at the foot of the bed while the Healer was making his examination, looked at Harry intently.
"Yeah, we both did," Harry said.
Dumbledore came and sat in the chair next to him. "Harry," he said softly, "please describe what took place."
Harry looked at him, and for a moment his old anger threatened to resurface. He was being asked to provide information to someone who had hid so much from him, after all. But the sight of the old Headmaster's concerned gaze made him quickly push aside his misgivings, before proceeding to recount everything that had happened since he and Luna had left the Three Broomsticks.
"Blimey," said Ron in awe several minutes later, after the Healer had left. "That's...bloody hell..."
Hermione was sitting on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands.
Dumbledore looked very grave. "This is consistent with what we'd theorized, Harry," he said somberly.
Harry looked at him. "What do you mean?"
The old Headmaster sighed. "It would appear that Mr. Malfoy attempted to regain his standing with the Dark Lord by revealing our plans to capture Bellatrix Lestrange," he said heavily. "I'm afraid he does not understand that there is no going back once Lord Voldemort cast him out. It would seem that he and I need to have a little chat."
"Lestrange!" exclaimed Harry, as their plan suddenly came back to him. "Did we - "
"I'm afraid not, Harry," said Dumbledore sadly. "While we captured most of the Death Eaters involved, she was able to make her escape by using a Portkey. She is, alas, still at large."
Harry felt a dark cloud descend upon him. With Lestrange beyond their reach - "What...what's going to happen to Luna's father?" he asked, though he dreaded the answer.
Dumbledore looked at him very seriously for several moments. "I'm afraid we may never know, Harry."
Harry gaped at him, incredulous.
"THAT'S IT??" he yelled, outraged at the Headmaster's passive acceptance of the fact. "YOU"RE NOT EVEN GOING TO TRY??"
"Harry," said Hermione tearfully, taking hold of his arm, "there's really nothing anyone can do now...I'm so sorry..."
Harry was about to turn his anger on her when the sight of her tearful eyes drove all dark anger from his mind.
Hermione was never one to give up, he realized, if there was even a sliver of a chance...
They were all silent. Hermione was staring at her feet dangling over the side of the bed, looking thoroughly dejected; Ron looked little better.
Dumbledore stood. "Well, if you will permit me, Harry, I must go convey this information to Miss Lovegood."
Harry looked up at him. "She...she's awake?"
"Oh yes," said Dumbledore. "She woke just minutes ago, as we were coming up, in fact. The Healers were examining her for any lingering effects, though I expect she will need to remain here a little while longer."
Harry threw off his blankets and sat over the edge of the bed. "Professor," he said, "I'd...like to be the one to tell her..."
Dumbledore paused for a moment near the door. "If you are quite certain, Harry?"
"Yes," said Harry resolutely as he slipped out of bed, his bare feet touching the cold floor.
"Harry," whispered Hermione as she caught Ron's arm, as he had stood and was getting ready to follow Harry out. "I...expect you'd rather be alone for this..."
He looked at her. She was staring at him with reddened eyes, her cheeks stained with dried tears. He nodded slowly. "Thanks, Hermione."
It was a bit chilly with only his hospital gown, so Harry grabbed his cloak off the peg next to the door. As he drew it on, he felt an unexpected weight in his inside pocket. Suddenly remembering the small glass sphere, he pulled it out and handed it to Dumbledore.
"Voldemort dropped this," he said tiredly. "When we were fighting. I thought it might be a portkey or something, but..."
Dumbledore held it up to his nose, inspecting it at length. "Interesting...indeed, most interesting. Dropped by Lord Voldemort, you say..."
Harry was about to ask if it might be another Prophecy, but he didn't have the stomach to hear any more. He decided to leave it with the Headmaster and proceeded out.
He walked the short distance to the next room to find Luna sitting up, Ginny and Neville sitting in chairs around her bed and keeping her company. The sight of her alive and apparently well both exhilarated and disheartened him. He absolutely hated to bring her news that Lestrange had escaped, yet to let the responsibility fall on someone else do it while he lay comfortably in the other room was unconscionable.
"Harry!" exclaimed Neville. Ginny snapped her head around at him. "Hey! It's sleepy head!"
"Hello Harry," said Luna, smiling dreamily.
"Er, hi," said Harry, giving a rather forced smile. "Um...listen...could I, er, have a minute alone..."
Ginny seemed to understand quickly, seeing his forlorn expression. "Sure, Harry," she said softly, taking a confused and stammering Neville by the arm and pulling him outside and closing the door behind her.
Luna gazed at him. "Harry, are you unwell? You seem rather sad."
"Oh, I'm all right," he said. He hesitated a moment, not knowing wether to take a seat or to remain standing. Luna seemed to sense his indecision and make it easy for him.
"Here," she said, drawing up straighter in bed and moving her legs to make room for him.
He hesitated again. There were so many things going through his mind at the moment, he was finding it difficult knowing where to begin.
Luna gently patted the bed sheets.
"I think we need to talk, Harry," she said solemnly.
He was startled by her tone, which wasn't at all dreamy. Rather, her voice and demeanor were very serious as Harry gingerly sat down on the bed, having decided to let her have the first word.
To his surprise, she just stared at him in silence.
"Er..." said Harry. He'd thought she wanted to discuss something, so her ensuing silence now greatly confused him.
She continued to stare, her large silver eyes fixed on his, unblinking and serious.
Well, they couldn't just sit in silence forever, he realized, so he decided a little prodding might help things along.
"What did you say we need to talk about?" he asked gently.
"I think you know," she answered quietly, her gaze boring into him.
Harry swallowed hard. She sounded almost accusatory. He opened his mouth and tried to form words.
"Er...well...I uh, Dumbledore told me...he..."
Luna sighed. "Well," she said finally, "It's what that Lestrange lady said, Harry..."
Harry blinked. Lestrange?? He thought back...
She hadn't said anything of note, so far as Harry could remember. Certainly nothing that could help the Order, at any rate. And Luna...
Oh, wait, he thought. Luna had opened her eyes just after Lestrange had spoken...
'Ooohh, you weally weally wuve this one, don't you, widdle baby Potter?' she'd said.
Harry looked at Luna, her large, unblinking silver eyes staring at him with decided sombreness.
"I...remember," he said cautiously.
"Was it true?" she asked, her voice strangely doleful.
It was true, Harry now realized full well. But Luna's reaction was not at all what he'd expected; all the dreaminess and detachment that was so prevalent in the young Ravenclaw had been suddenly stripped away, and he was no longer sure what to expect...dare he tell her?
"That grave, in your dream," said Luna softly, "the one you put that rose on...that was mine, wasn't it?"
Harry felt his insides twisting...this was not at all what he'd expected to deal with upon coming here...
"Is it true?" she asked again.
Harry looked at his feet and opened his mouth.
"Harry, look at me," said Luna.
He raised his eyes to hers and knew at that instant he couldn't lie to her, even though it could mean the end to their friendship...which was becoming a distinct possibility, especially the way she was going on...
He swallowed hard.
"Is it true?" she repeated once more in a whisper.
"Yes," he said finally, his voice sounding strange in his ears. "Yes, it's true, Luna..."
She stared at him in silence for several long, agonizing moments. She sighed softly, before slowly drawing back her blankets to come and sit next to him, her large silver eyes a mere hand's width from his. He thought he saw something glimmer in their silvery depths...
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" she asked softly.
Harry looked at her intently for any sign. Her expression was completely blank.
"I...I...didn't know..."
She tilted her head slightly as she looked at him. "No..." she said softly, looking thoughtful. "No, I don't suppose you did..."
He gaped at her. There was a definite twinkle now in her eyes, and her mouth was having some trouble concealing a faint hint of a smile. She leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder with an airy sigh.
"Well," she whispered, "I really should have been more observant also, I suppose. Ginny tried to tell me once but I thought she was being rather fantastical, you know..."
"You...you're not mad?"
She let out a small giggle. "Some people rather think so, actually."
"Oh, I meant upset," he corrected.
"Well, upset that you didn't tell me, yes," she said, though her voice was now sprinkled with mirth.
"Sorry about that," said Harry.
"All is forgiven," said Luna melodiously.
Harry hesitantly drew a protective arm around her shoulders; but upon completing that move, he felt her relax against him, feeling so natural that it was as though he'd been doing it for years.
She turned her head and looked up at him, his face reflected in her large silver eyes -
"WAIT! STOP!! DESIST!!" a powerful bellow suddenly reverberated throughout the small room as the had door burst open to reveal the odd sight of the Headmaster rushing headlong in a huff.
Harry was so startled by the violent interruption that he involuntarily jumped, lost his balance and fell off the bed, landing on his backside, while Luna stared wide-eyed at the doorway.
"Oh," the Headmaster said as he glanced between the two of them. "Terribly sorry. Alas, I thought that I should interrupt before certain things were...discussed - "
"Merlin's beard!" Harry barked up at him. "You could've at least knocked!"
He noticed that Dumbledore was still holding the strange crystal sphere Harry had given him, though the soft glow it had been emitting had somehow been extinguished.
"Yes, well," said Dumbledore apologetically, though for some reason there was a definite twinkle in his clear blue eyes, "I'm afraid there is a visitor for Miss Lovegood, you see Harry, and I thought it best that she see him forthwith."
With that, he moved from the doorway to reveal a tall man behind him.
He looked rather bewildered, Harry thought. He had sandy brown hair, hazel eyes and several days of dirty blonde stubble on his face, and a look of benign congeniality that reminded Harry very much of Arthur Weasley. Harry had never seen the man before in his life, but he knew instantly who this stranger was.
Luna's eyes had widened into saucers at the sight of him.
"DADDY!!!" she squealed, leaping off her bed and running over to him, jumping up into his outstretched arms as he stumbled back against the door frame, squeezing her tightly.
"Snookums!" he cried, burying his face in her long, dirty blonde hair.
Ron and Hermione, who had drifted into the room behind him Dumbledore, glanced at each other.
Snookums? they silently mouthed at each other, eyebrows raised.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!"
Luna's father almost dropped her in his haste to put her down. "Luna, what's wrong?" he asked, grave concern etched on his face. "You're hurt?!?"
But Luna was laughing, her silver eyes swimming in tears of mirth, one hand clutching her side. "It's...still...sore..." she said breathlessly in between fits of laughter.
Harry got to his feet. "Mister Lovegood?"
"Well, d'uh!" exclaimed Ginny, having just entered the room behind Ron and Hermione, Neville following close behind.
"That would be me," the man said. "Though I have to confess I'm at something of a loss to explain how I came to be here."
"Well have a seat," said Ginny, jumping into one of the empty chairs. "Have we ever got a story for you..."