The Gift

Indarae

Parings: Light Luna/Harry nearing the end, but that's not my ship, at all.

Rating: Pg-13, as always, for disturbing imagery and war.

Distribution: Schnoogle, Twisting the Hellmouth, ff.net, or simply email to ask.

Summary: (Severitus' Challenge) The death of Albus Dumbledore leaves a mountain of questions for the Light. Along with Luna, Ginny, Ron, and the unlikely help of a Slytherin, Harry learns that answers often bring hearbreak as the final conflict approaches.

A/N: And the end is near... have a nice week, everyone.

Chapter Eleven — A Knife's Blade

December 29, 1997

"Harry, mate, where've you been all day?" Blaise demanded. He was sprawled across a couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, with Seth firmly entrenched in Harry's chair and the rest of the remaining Slytherin children camped out on the floor. Justin Finch-Fletchley and his Hufflepuff Housemate, Pip, were sitting on the staircase to the boy's dormitories playing Snap. Luna, Ginny, and Ron were nowhere to be found.

Harry shrugged and collapsed down the couch from Blaise. He could feel the two brooches in his pocket clunking against each other. "Spent some of it in the library. I was too busy for breakfast."

"And had tea with Snape, I'd imagine," Blaise murmured softly. "I was wondering why you didn't come down for breakfast. We sent Ginny up to wake you — your little girlfried looked angry with that arrangement, mate — but she didn't come back down and we got to wondering why -"

"Er -" Harry cleared his throat, turning his gaze on the fireplace. "Where are Ginny, and Ron, and... and Luna, who is clearly not my girlfriend."

Blaise snorted his disbelief. "Whatever you say. They're up in the infirmary, though. Ginny was having migranes or something such and went off Ron got back from breakfast. Luna joined them after lunch."

"Yeah," Harry muttered. "That's — that's an awfully bad deal."

Frowning, Blaise peered at Harry. "You alright, there?"

"Doing — doing just fine, yes, thank you. Er — what have you all been doing today?" Harry picked at a hole in his sock.

Blaise snorted. "Oh, come off it and apologize to the sodding git."

Harry blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Ron. Apologize to bloody Ron for not paying attention to him or whatever and spare us the rest of the brooding. As you well know, we've no time for it. If you're even planning to come out of your whole battle alive, you bloody well know you'll need the lot of us at your back, Weasleys and all." Blaise sent him a droll look. "Come on, Potter, no need to look all worried about talking to your friends."

"Yeah," Harry whispered, looking away again. "I should." He should, yes, but he knew the guilt would give him away. "Look, Blaise — I'm gonna go upstairs for a while. I didn't sleep well last night, and I'm gonna... take a nap. Wake me for dinner, right?"

Blaise shrugged. "Fine, mate, whatever you want — but it's your loss."

"My loss," Harry repeated. Without another word, he rose and jogged up the stairs, the brooches bumping against his hip to remind him how close the end was.

Did he truly believe he could survive what was to come? It seemed impossible. Harry sat down on the floor at the end of his bed and opened his school trunk. On the top were clothes: jumpers from Mrs. Weasley, slacks, a pack of owl treats for Hedwig. And there it was, his photo album, tucked away under all the necessaries, to keep Blaise from stealing it again. Harry flipped it open to the wedding picture and found Elizabeth Potter hanging off to the side. "Hi, there, Mum," he whispered. He felt only a little ridiculous talking to the picture. It wasn't as though anyone was there to hear him. "Er — I've gone and made Dad angry. If you were still alive, I'd wager you'd be hearing an earful about how I've gone and screwed it all up. You see, Dumbledore had this plan, and it wasn't a grand plan at all. I was going to lead a legion of wizards to their deaths. It was an awful plan, actually. But I've got a better one, and it's not such a good plan for me, but in the end... it'll save so many lives, Mum, how can he think it's bad? It'll get rid of Voldemort, and it'll be my life, not so many others. I bet you'd agree with me, though it might be hard for you to accept it and all." Harry sighed and the photograph smiled shyly. "I wish I'd known you."

"What's the plan?"

Harry jerked upright, dropping the album in shock. Luna was standing in the doorway, hands in her robe pockets. She didn't seem particularly surprised by anything she'd heard, so Harry had to wonder just how much of the conversation' she'd been a party to. "How much did you hear?" he demanded.

"What, no hello?" Luna frowned and wandered across the room. "Well, you were talking to a picture of your mum. And you've a better plan than someone. Who had the old plan? What's best about your new plan?"

Then she hadn't heard him speak about his father in the present tense — and, from across the room, she hadn't seen which person held most of his attention. He let out a short sigh of relief. "It's none of your concern, really."

Luna dropped down next to him, leaning against his shoulder. "What's this? Your parents' wedding?"

"Yes, of course," Harry muttered. He scooted the album half onto her lap. "That's that's er, Mum and Dad. That's their best man, my godfather, Sirius Black."

"And he died, in the Death Room," Luna said. "That's Professor Lupin?"

Harry nodded. "He was another close friend of J- my parents. There's Hagrid, and Professor McGonagall -"

Luna leaned down, peering at the picture more closely. Then, she sat up again and pointed directly to Elizabeth Potter. "She's related, closely. You look more like her than your parents."

Harry couldn't help his eyes widening. "How did you -"

"Just because I'm not always thinking about things going on at Hogwarts doesn't mean I don't see everything," Luna murmured. She tilted her head slightly, staring at Harry as though he was just another edition of The Quibbler. "You have your father's eyes, you know," she said simply.

"What -?" Harry jerked away, utterly failing to disguise his shock. "I have my fathers' -"

But Luna had already moved on, and was digging through her pockets. "Oh, here we go. So long as we're trading pictures... this is my mum."

Harry shot over a suspicious glance, but took the snapshot anyway. A near mirror-image of Luna, plus ten years, beamed back at him. "She's lovely," he said. The photo giggled and waved at him.

"That's just before she married Dad," Luna explained. She took the picture back and smiled at it lovingly. "Hi, Mum." She slipped it back in her pocket and turned back to Harry, grabbing his elbow lightly. The album on her lap seemed forgotten. "Now, then, that plan -"

Harry gave an exasperated sigh. "Look, don't you get that it's not your fight -?"

Luna cut him off, shaking her head emphatically. "But don't you see? It's all of our fights. They might all think I'm daft, but I do know how to protect myself, and how to help in what's to come. I've been training so hard, ever since Dumbledore's Army, just to fight at your side when it all comes together."

"You did?" Harry gulped. From the half-adoring look on Luna's face, he supposed that maybe Blaise had the right of it. "Er — it'll just be a lot of dying. Mostly me and Voldemort, I suppose, but if you're in the crossfire I'd feel rather — guilty about it."

"Tell me," Luna pleaded. "You look like you want to tell someone, I can see it in your eyes. You've been like that for days. Since before Christmas. Something's eating away at you, and I promise I won't tell anyone, Harry."

He couldn't tell everything, but there was at least one subject he could explain. With a low sigh, Harry fished the brooches out of his pocket, along with the slip of paper. She beamed, seeing her Christmas gift in his hand, but he replaced it immediately. "You can't tell a soul — not Ginny, not Ron, not the Headmistress. This brooch is a Dark artefact, sent to Professor Snape from Draco's father, and it might be the way we destroy Voldemort. This, or two artefacts just as Dark. Here, these are the spells — don't say them, don't even think them, they're just that Dark -"

And, an attentive audience to the last, Luna listened while Harry explained all the trials and tribulations involving the boxes of Lucius Malfoy's last contribution to society.

+

"Harry?" He glanced up from the photo album to find Blaise standing just inside the dormitory. "Er — it's dinnertime... I'm not interrupting, am I?"

Luna, whose head had at some point migrated to a resting position on Harry's shoulder, smiled radiantly. "Oh, nothing at all. Harry was just showing me his photo album and telling me all about the pictures."

Blaise sent Harry a lavicious grin. "Oh, showing you pictures, was he?"

"Oh, come off it," Harry growled, giving Blaise a glare before he gently nudged Luna's head away. She straightened up and then climbed to her feet, giving Harry a hand up.

"How's Ginny faring?" Luna asked. Harry tripped, but managed to recover. He set about cleaning up everything he'd pulled from his trunk — Luna had asked for a full explanation of it all, after the explanation of the three Dark artefacts — to cover up the guilty wince on his features.

"She's much better," Blaise said. "Or so she says. She's headed down to dinner with Ron already. She said she came up this morning to find Harry and got all dizzy when she got here. She said she swears she can remember Harry running past her to get out, but also remembers the room being empty. Déjà vu, she's saying. I don't know, I think she fell asleep and can't keep her facts straight."

Harry gave a strained laugh. "Yeah. That must be it."

Luna shot a concerned look in Harry's direction, but before she could make something of it, Blaise clapped his hands together. "Alright, then. Food? I think all the Weasleys are going to be down there tonight. Professor — er — Lupin, he won't be, right?"

"He's fine until sundown," Harry argued, but Luna grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door.

"Come on, now. If there's a war to be fought, it's silly to argue about old prejudices — though, Harry's perfectly right about it all." Luna gave a distracted smile. "There was an entire edition of The Quibbler about the mistreatment of werewolves, but it was one of our least popular articles, in the end."

Blaise grumbled under his breath as Luna dragged Harry by. "Somehow, that doesn't reassure me in the least."

In the Common Room, Harry tried to disengage his hand from Luna's, but her grip was much stronger than her waifish frame suggested. Over in the most comfortable chair in the Gryffindor dormitory, Harry heard Seth's editorial comments. "Well... they certainly deserve each other, both madder than hatters..." The Slytherin first-years twittered in response, and Harry could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. What was Luna thinking, anyway?

Obviously, she either hadn't heard or hadn't cared. "We're off to dinner," she announced cheerfully. Harry in a vice-like grip, she headed toward the door. Blaise followed the both of them.

"I'm never going to live this down," Harry commented as soon as they'd cleared the portrait.

"What's to live down?" Luna asked innocently, though the spark of mischief in her eyes told Harry everything he needed to know.

Despite Blaise's amused expression, Harry stopped arguing. After all, she'd been right — he had needed someone to talk to. She'd been there for him. And she had been, many times since Sirius' death.

+

He doubted the furor over their entrance was enough to make up for the tomato-red his face had maintained for most of the meal. Lupin wasn't there, likely readying himself with the also-absent Madam Pomfrey for the difficult transformation ahead. Harry's father was absent, as well, though Harry couldn't imagine what kept him away. With Luna seated to his right and Blaise to his left, however, it was easy to ignore the half-suspicious gazes sent his way from the Weasley section of the table.

"Stay in your dormitory tonight," Headmistress McGonagall was explaining as the meal was ending over pudding. "While we are quite confident of Mr. Lupin's restraint during the transformation, we do not want to put any of you in any danger whatsoever." Her announcement of Lupin's presence had been met with a discouraging amount of shock and anger, at least so far as Harry was concerned. Lupin had been their best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher ever — with the sometimes exception of Professor "Moody" in his fourth year, despite the actual identity of the teacher — and Harry thought he deserved more respect from all those presence, even the first and second years, who hadn't gotten the chance to learn from him.

Before he could make a stir over it, however, Luna reached over and patted his shoulder. "Plenty of time to tackle that once You Know Who is out of the picture," she said, logic unfailing. "I'll convince my father to put another article in The Quibbler to start off."

"Right," Harry muttered. "I'm sure that'll fix everything."

"And — Mr. Potter, would you stop conversing with Miss Lovegood, and pay attention?" Harry blushed as the Headmistress' wrath was directed in his direction and ducked his head. "Yes, then. As I was saying, the professors will be meeting this evening to discuss the procedure for strengthening the wards on New Year's Day. Until then, be wary — the wards are weakening, but my power as Headmistress will not be strong enough until the turning of the year to reinforce those protections Headmaster Dumbledore has left us. As you no doubt know, we fear L-lord Voldemort may attempt an attack before the wards are finished. After this evening's meeting, we will have instructions for each of you, should such an attack occur."

Harry poked his pudding. With talk of Voldemort, he lost his appetite entirely.

"- And I'd like to remind you," Professor Sinistra was saying, "the Astronomy Tower is strictly off-limits outside of class time. My wards recorded the presence of an individual but, as I cannot tell their identity, I can only assume it was a first year who was not fully informed of the rules regarding the tower's intended use... I've heard some perfectly awful stories about the things my tower is associated with, and I'd like to remedy those rumors immediately..."

Harry sighed impatiently. He'd had enough of Ron's frowns to last a lifetime, but it seemed as though the professors were likely to continue for ages, with their words of warning. What time had the Headmistress said the professors were meeting? Harry wanted at least several more hours of work on the dagger spell before he went to sleep for the evening. Or was he allowed in the dungeons at all? He thought he remembered her saying that Lupin was to be housed there for the night, but perhaps he should've been paying more attention... he was having a terrible time, at that. So were others, it seemed: Luna was reading something under the table, and Blaise seemed to be making a list of... something or another. The other boy's writing was nearly incomprehensible, especially when Harry was reading from above and to the side.

The whole evening seemed eerily normal, considering what was likely to happen in the next few days. Down at the other end of the table, Harry saw Ginny joking quietly with her three brothers and Tonks. Percy was smiling, a common occurance since his appearance at Hogwarts with Bill, and the eldest Weasley brother was attempting to look serious while he smothered a laugh. Ron was batting his Prefect pin around the table in between frowns. Closer, the Slytherin first and second-years seemed to be passing notes around, which Professor Vector was trying desperately to stop with the least amount of disturbance to the Headmistress, who was once again pontificating on some point or another. The others looked bored, or tired — Justin Finch-Fletchley was certainly asleep over in his part of the table.

It was too normal. Less than a month earlier, a slaughter of horrific proportions had occurred, some of it in this very room. The friends and classmates of all those present were killed, the Headmaster of the school met his end fighting the Darkest wizard alive. Most of the blood was gone from the floors and the walls, some of the night terrors left off. Harry no longer woke twice a night to hear Seth screaming as he relived whatever horrors he'd been party to. Was this life in a war zone, then? Despite the ever-present threat coming from the outside, despite the fact that many students likely wouldn't be returning for the next term because of the horrors that were enacted under the enchanted roof, life went on. Students smiled, professors gave lectures, and they rebuilt.

The sight should've brought hope for a post-Voldemort world, Harry supposed, but all it did was reinforce the desperation of the situation. They were standing on the edge of a knife's blade — one step to either side, one tiny stumble, and they'd be sliced in two. Harry looked down at his hands and tried to concentrate on whatever the Headmistress was saying, as boring as it seemed. "... and so, the full moon has many meanings beyond that of the werewolf. Keep them all in mind: blood magic, love spells, healing spells affecting the heart, all of these have a heightened effect at the full moon. Go on, head back to the dormitory now. You've had your lesson for this evening."

"For this evening?" Blaise muttered as noise broke out among the students. Justin jerked awake, and McGonagall sent him a glare. "Does this mean we'll have more of these... lessons?"

"It was interesting," Luna murmured. "Well, sort of. I didn't know any of the applications of blood magic, before. Too bad it's all so Dark. Maybe I can get The Quibbler to do a special issue..."

Harry blushed. "Er... you wouldn't want to give me the shorter, less boring version, would you?"

"You didn't listen to any of it?" Luna demanded. "Oh, Harry, she was talking about how the beast is in a werewolf's blood and spit, and that's why a bite causes infection -"

"Er -" Harry noticed Professor McGonagall watching them intently, and grabbed Luna's arm. "Let's — you can tell me all about it, just... not here, right?"

Luna hooked her arm with Harry's and beamed. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Ron smirking at the no doubt uncomfortable expression on Harry's own face. "We could go over to the library. There are probably lots of books on blood magic, if you're so interested."

Harry gulped, and Blaise grinned nastily. "Well, I'm just going back to the dormitory, you know. You two should have a lovely night," Blaise said.

"Oh, sure. Books," Harry muttered.

She dragged Harry toward the door, and despite being uncomfortable with the whole situation he was nonetheless grateful to get away from the knowing stare of Minerva McGonagall. "People seem to think I'm not a proper Ravenclaw, but I am. I love the library, you know. And other students don't bother me there quite so much, though since I started hanging out with you and Ginny and Ron and Hermione, they've mostly said things about how you're more off your rocker than I am. I try to set them straight about it all, but they never listen to me."

He couldn't say he was surprised. No one seemed to have quite gotten past the article in the Daily Prophet naming him mad. "Yeah. Well. Er... blood magic, right? You were going to tell me what Professor McGonagall said? We — we don't really need to do extra research or all that, unless it seems like it might help in the fight against Voldemort... but you said it was Dark Magic..."

"Quite!" Luna seemed more intrigued by that than anything else. "Blood magics are involved in resurrection spells and some portal spells — before Apparation, only a blood portal could really move you any where, the Headmistress was saying — and love spells are quite dark indeed. Love spells aren't about love, so much, you know. They're about controlling one's mind, and that's what makes them Dark. While I suppose the portals really aren't so bad — they're just to get you from one place to another, though a stronger portal comes from a slaughter rather than a weak jump from bloodletting — love spells are truly evil. They warp one's sense of self until the victim of the spell would kill himself or herself rather than be without the affection of the one who cast the spell. I'd think it's crueler than Cruciatus, even — to tear oneself to pieces in the hopes of making someone love you? How heartbreaking... love is the one emotion that should never be rifled with, don't you agree...?"

Harry had stopped paying close attention somewhere around the talk of killing and bloodletting. "Was that all she said about the portals, Luna?" His mind fixated on it, as though it was something so urgently important that all else took a back seat.

She nodded. "Just that. Did you want to know more? I'm sure I know the perfect book in the library, and Madame Pince said she was going to be there until the meeting tonight..."

"Yes. I need to check something... it just feels like this is vital..." Harry started toward the library. "Wait, what time was the meeting at?"

Luna snorted. "Well, you certainly weren't paying attention in the least, were you. It's at seven thirty. We have, oh... fifteen minutes? The Weasley brothers, Bill and Percy, were going with Nymphadora down for drinks at the pub, did you hear that discussion, too? Bill fancies her. The whole table could hear, it was quite funny."

"No, I didn't hear... Wait, Lupin's transformed, Madame Pomfrey is watching him, and Bill, Percy, and Tonks are out of the building? Was there anyone else likely to be away from the meeting?" Harry quickened his steps.

"No... all the other teachers will be there... McGonagall, Snape, Vector, Sinistra, Hooch, Sprout, Roetzel — he's been just terrible for Defense, I don't think I've learned a bit -" Luna cut off, having a hard time keeping up with Harry's increasing pace. "Harry, what is it? What's so important about the library?"

Harry winced. "I have a terrible, terrible feeling about all of this... do you know where the books on blood magic are located? If I'm right, we haven't much time at all."

Luna narrowed her eyes. "Harry, please tell me what's going on."

"The portals," he said. "I think they're important. Plus, we're down from twelve defenders to seven, tonight. Isn't that odd? Tonight, when the wards are starting to break down more quickly, and blood portals are the sort of Dark Magics I wouldn't put past Voldemort... I suppose our only solace is that electronics don't work in the castle, so the Great Hall couldn't be bugged..."

"Of course it can be bugged," Luna said. "Haven't you read The Quibbler at all? There are animagi — unregistered, of course — and magical eyes, tracking spells and duplicate ears. There are spells to look through windows from afar, and the ceiling of the Great Hall isn't safe, since the projection of the sky would cover up anything set there. My father did an article on -"

Harry gave an exasperated sigh. "Luna, are these real spells? Spells you know? Or just things you've heard about. Please, don't take offense or anything, but this is really important — these can't be Quibbler conspiracy theories, these need to be facts..."

Luna's eyes narrowed and she tensed up, wispy happiness gone. "They're fact," she said shortly. "I'm sorry you think I'm mad, too, but all I've tried to do is help -"

"Don't be on my case, too," Harry snapped. "I really can't take anymore — first Ron, then Blaise trying to get me to apologize for some daft notion of Ron's, then Ginny angry at me for — for everything. I need you on my side, I need to be able to trust you. You have to admit, some of The Quibbler's theories at least appear to be a stretch, alright? To those of us who aren't believers?"

"Yes..." she said cautiously. "Some of us have seen things others wouldn't believe... like the thestrals, most people don't believe thestrals exist, but since they're invisible..."

Harry nodded sadly. "Yes. The thestrals. But you see where I need hard data, for this? I... look, we can talk about The Quibbler and all your theories later, but there's no time for talk, now -"

Luna nodded hesistantly. "Alright, then, but we will be having that discussion, you know. You'll be a believer, yet."

If they didn't move fast, Harry wondered if he'd have any more discussions at all.