Have finally decided to update as have had SERIOUS mental block for the past while........blame summer....SCRAPE OFF ALL THAT BRAIN RUST!!! Lol lol, inside joke....
As for the World Cup of H, GO CANADA GO!!! GO FINLAND!!!!
SPECIAL THANKS TO LADY'S ETERNAL DARKNESS FOR AGREEING TO BETA THIS STORY!!!
EXTRA SPECIAL THANKS TO ALL REVIEWERS AND NEW UNION MEMBER!!! WELCOME RUBY!!!
Princess Kiikii-or-whatever-the-hell-it-is was just some random bitch that flamed LED. I'm her beta reader, so I flamed PK, and so she flamed me, and so on. Just if anyone's wondering.......
Anyways, here it is......enjoy......
Note: Chapters will be much longer from now on, so updates might take a while.....
Luna woke up on stone. It was cold and glassy. It was weird; she would have thought she would have died already. Blame whoever in her family was a cockroach. Too bad relief from pain hadn't come with her life, but she wasn't complaining, life was better than death. Or so she thought now, but give the next time Mr. Malfoy came nancing in she would be singing a different tune.
Her ears ached, and her eyes wouldn't open properly. One was swollen shut ands the other was caked with some reddish dried power that stung when it contacted her eyeball. She blinked it away. Dried blood was really gross, especially in your eyes. She hoped she would be able to see after her ordeal.
The rest of her body ached as if she'd run six of Mad-Eye's training sessions. Luna wasn't in bad shape, she had never been, but those really had been hard. The aftermath of that had been sore muscles, but Draco's visit left her with something else. Now there was a faint tingling in her entire body, as if her nerves were raw from screaming for so long. They probably were, she thought darkly.
Luna flipped over and tried to adjust herself more comfortably when she realized her bonds were gone. She sat up too quickly and had to lay down again, waiting for the black spots that danced across her partial vision to subside.
Gingerly, she touched her swollen eye. It was bruised, but nothing worse. Her vision seemed fine. Her other eye, although caked in blood, dried blood, which was as irritating as chili powder when it touched her eyeball, was also in working order when gently cleaned out.
Her wrists were bruised, as she expected; dark, angry circles and red welts marked her bonds' former positions. A cut on her forehead and a lump on her cheekbone proved to be her only physical injuries; the cut had bled into her eye and the bruising had spread from her cheekbone.
But it was the constant tingling, not unlike the buzzing of a million bees, which was the only reminder of her old schoolmate's visit.
Gingerly, Luna stood. Her cell was fairly spacious, but she had no idea where it was. The Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters would randomly meet and a huge battle would ensue, but each side was forever trying to find the other's location so they could attack the other's heart. She guessed she was in the Death Eater's hideout, but she wasn't sure.
Luna vaguely remembered last night; there had been questions, she knew, but she wasn't positive she hadn't given him any answers. It was all too fuzzy, like an old Muggle television.
She hoped Harry would move the Order. If she hadn't told them where they had been hiding already she most likely would in due time.
Luna shook her head slowly to clear her thoughts and spun the protective cloak she had watched others from under most of her school years. She had found most people left her alone; they thought she was strange. It was fine by Luna; all the company she needed was herself. People were fun to gauge anyways, she found a lot out about their character by how they reacted to her.
She had always liked being alone, it left her to think in peace and quiet. Love was unneeded, as was attention. Loony Lovegood. Loony wasn't Luna, but she was a part of her. Luna put up her old self that Harry had managed to see through and waited for the sound of approaching footsteps.
The door slowly swung in and Draco Malfoy swept in like a king entering his palace. He was dressed in obsidian robes that swirled like a cloud around his form, and a scarlet cloak. Luna, who had had no time the previous visit to enjoy his features, now studied them from her seat on the floor.
His face was still pale and pointed, with high cheekbones and cold eyes, but it was much older than it had been when she first saw him. His silvery-blond hair, as strait as an arrow, now brushed his shoulders, which were much slimmer than Harry's were, Luna noted. Draco wasn't tall, but he was anything but short. His presence, proud and confident, made him appear taller than he had ever been. The expression of arrogance and cold smugness twisting his pale lips, however, hadn't changed the slightest bit.
"Lovegood." He greeted. "Sleep well?" His tone was oddly pleasant, and he had a touch of genuine happiness in his voice.
A sick feeling settled in Luna's stomach like a rock. She told herself she was being silly. Careful to keep a dreamy expression masking her face, she chose her next words warily. "Well enough."
The other waved his wand and a chair appeared. He seated himself backwards on it and rested his arms on the backrest. His eyes evaluated her.
Luna fought to keep from swallowing. "Well?" She managed to ask, her eyes widening innocently.
Draco shrugged. "Can't I come see my latest object of attention? Especially after she was so good."
Worry gnawed a hole in her stomach, but she carved a dreamy expression onto her face by sheer will. "What do you mean?"
The corners of the Death Eater's mouth twitched upwards. "You don't remember? Oh, Loony, I never knew!"
"What do you mean?" She was battling panic now, and losing badly. Her darkest fears ran rampant through her mind.
He shrugged. The bastard, he was having the time of his life. Luna remembered him at school, he was a sadistic creature by nature, never missing an opportunity to torment the next person to cross his path.
Luna dropped her expression and her dreamy tone turned to a whip's crack without thinking. She had no time or patience for games. "What do you mean?!" She hissed.
Draco grinned and held up his hands. "You told me the location of the Order of the Phoenix, a squad of Death Eaters went in there, killed half of them (or more), and left. I expect we won't be seeing them for a while. All thanks to you."
Luna's heart sank like the Titanic, breaking in half first. Draco just smiled at her.
"No." She whispered. She had betrayed them.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George; even Snape. All because she was too weak and gave in to a murderer. She had caved to pain to save herself, and doing so betrayed all of her friends and comrades. It might have been the deciding factor of the war, and now the world would be doomed because of her.
Suicide seemed a healthy choice to her mind right then.
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Harry oversaw the last of the Order leaving the abandoned shack they had used for a base in Northern Ireland. They had to relocate; Luna would be tortured until she told the Death Eaters exactly where the Order was hiding.
It made Harry sick to know Luna's will would be broken, but he couldn't blame her if she told them everything. He had been under the Curse of Pain before, and he would have done anything to break it. Even if that failed, they might resort to Muggle tactics. Harry wasn't sure what he'd do if someone methodically snapped his fingers in half.
He sighed deeply, and his breath misted before him like a massive cloud horse rearing as it tossed its proud head.
The War had been going on since his fifth year at Hogwarts, and Cedric's death had been the first of many. He remembered the day the Death Eaters took London. Every Muggle there had been killed, and every wizard who refused to join them or wasn't a pureblood suffered a similar fate. The Minister of Magic had died that day, hit by a stray spell. Seamus, Harry's old schoolmate, had filled the position, but gave the Order no special treatment. It wasn't as though they expected any, but they were in dire need of charity. The Death Eaters all but ruled the world from their unknown base, but would randomly attack certain people or places to enforce their reign. The Order of the Phoenix was fighting them, of course, as best as they could, but their numbers were rapidly dwindling, and they were losing.
Harry's eyes grew sad as he heard footsteps behind him. Hermione, no doubt.
"Harry? Ready to go yet?" Yes, it was she. Harry's heart ached for her and Ron, trying to live and love in certain death. But he also admired them for it, and valued their lives far above his own. Such a martyred little hero, the famous Harry Potter has become, he thought to himself dryly.
"Not quite, Hermione. You go ahead, I'll catch up later. I need to speak to someone."
The footsteps of his best friend crunched away from him, leaving him standing all alone. Harry chewed his lip.
Snape would be a good choice. He knew when and how to keep his mouth tightly shut. But the poor man had been through enough already.
There was Ron or Hermione, of course, but he didn't want secrets to break them up after they had fought for so long to stay together.
Fred and George were just too irresponsible.
Ginny didn't need the extra stress.
Luna was either screaming right now or dead.
Sirius was dead, and had bad experiences with the job anyway. Harry kicked himself mentally for even thinking of it.
Seamus might have been the Minister of Magic, but Harry would never trust anyone he would recommend. It was a political game, and one there was far too much at stake to lose.
He himself was out of the question, he was already a target.
Neville was terrified of torture.
That long list of no's left one man.
Harry smiled to himself. Of course.
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The house was small and badly built, the roof was patchy and most of the stucco was missing. Stains covered the rotting and splintered wood of the deck, rent with claw marks. It looked scary, but Harry knew the inside to be cozy, and well kept. On every night except for one per month.
Thus was the dwelling of Remus Lupin, former Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, werewolf.
Harry sighed heavily as he knocked gently on the door and let himself in.
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Luna's eyes were red when Draco visited her the next day. She looked thinner, almost transparent, and her tray of food lay untouched. Her eyes were sunken, her hair scraggly.
Draco plopped down onto his usual chair and leaned on the back, watching her. He didn't exactly love to see her, to talk to her; he just had nothing better to do. He wasn't allowed to leave the mansion, he might be caught by the Order or Aurors; no charms to change appearances placed on a random Muggle passing by would save him again, as it did the last time he had made a careless mistake. He was forced to stay indoors, locked in a dreary castle with no one but his old schoolmate for company.
"What is it, Malfoy?" She asked tiredly.
He cocked his head. "I have some questions."
Luna held out her hands, wrists together. "Go ahead then." She muttered. "It's not like I can refuse you anything when you ask."
"Relax." He said with a jaunty wave of his hand. "I won't hurt you this time. I just want to talk." And he did. He had been puzzling over her for a long time. Luna Lovegood was an interesting person; fun to pick apart and reveal the layers of defenses she had built.
Luna snorted. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
"I'm curious, Lovegood. Humor me."
Luna regarded him silently.
"Why did you agree to treat my body when no one else would?" He asked. Luna blinked. "You wrapped it in a shroud. Potter would have just burned it, I know that for sure, but you stopped him. You insisted I deserved better. Why?"
Luna swallowed. "Because, Malfoy, I never believed you were an evil person. Misled, but never evil. You were just a boy caught up in his father's demands and expectations."
Draco smiled and snorted softly. Ah, yes, the traditional 'boy must impress father and turns evil, only to be changed by a beautiful woman' story. It was a bad fairytale, far too unrealistic and overdone for his taste. "The only expectations I have are my own, Lovegood. If I am evil, it is by my own will."
Luna's eyes dropped to the floor. The broken expression returned to her face. She ignored the man sitting in front of her. He was the reason she betrayed her friends. It was his fault. He was the enemy.
But why couldn't she hate him?