Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! My union now has 5 members! GO ME!!!! Lolz, please join!

I saw Troy yesterday. It is SUCH a good movie!!! Hector is MY Precious!!! I am Adromache (his wife)!!!

GO FLAMES GO!!!!! Yah Kiprusoff!!! Go Iggy!

Chapter 2

After three days in the hospital Luna was bored almost to tears.

She had read almost every magazine available at least three times, amused herself by setting things on fire at least six times, conjuring images of Malfoy burping slugs at least sixty times, studied the strange note (gotten freaked out) at least three hundred times, and eaten perhaps four hundred Chocolate Frogs.

And she was still bored. But she wasn't allowed out of bed for another week. She was restless and grumpy. And poor Harry had a death wish. He visited her and "suggested" that maybe she shouldn't eat so much chocolate. The lump on his head, handprint on his face, three broken fingers, two cracked ribs, concussion, and his squished "happy place" would heal, but he should have known better than to call her fat. She hoped he could still have kids after the way she kicked him, but she didn't do Tae Kwon Doe for six years for nothing. Well technically, he didn't actually say she was fat, but he implied it, and that was just as bad as Luna saw it.

She turned on her side, fiddling with her bed sheets. They needed washing; she suspected the people at St. Mugo's just turned them over for every new patient.

An hour passed.

She stared almost wistfully at the ceiling, looking for an air vent or something she could crawl through to escape.

Two more hours crawled by. They literally crawled.

The door creaked open, and bushy hair showed slightly. Luna leapt out of bed, attacking the startled the person coming through the door with a hug.

"Hermione! I knew you would come!" She hugged the other woman tighter, ignoring the muffled screams. "Get me out! I swear I will kill someone if I don't get out!" She laughed insanely, ruffling her friend's hair furiously.

"Hermione" coughed. Luna looked down to see the nurse she was crushing in a hug.

"Oops."

Two days later, Luna was in bed, trying to sleep as she wavered in and out of a haze of nausea. She swore the hospital thought she was too healthy, so they poisoned her.

Vomit welled up in her throat, and she barely had time to grab her bucket before it came out. She moaned quietly through the stomach juices and partially digested supper that she was retching out.

'There goes the carrots.' She thought hazily. 'And the peas. Oh, there's the lettuce!'

The door creaked open; a can clinked on the ground, and a low hiss escaped. The door closed again. Luna barely glanced up, too absorbed in her tango with the bucket. She suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion rush through her. A rancid smell filled the air. The door opened again. Footsteps walked around her bed, stopping behind her. Luna tried to see who it was, but her body wouldn't respond. A painfully crushing grip caught the back of her neck. She tried to reason what was happening, but her brain wouldn't work. She tried to raise her hand, to stop puking, to move, but her body was sluggish and wouldn't seem to obey the commands she was sending it. A robed arm brought a vial under her nose, and Luna caught it, accidentally pulling back the robes to reveal a tattoo. She tried to make it out, but her vision was blackening and going gray around the edges, drifting in and out of focus.

A deep voice chuckled. "Relax, Lovegood, or this will hurt."

Luna fought unconsciousness until blinding pain seared through her body, loosening the fragile grip she had on reality.