Hey, all. This is the last chapter before the "big revelation," so I thought I'd provide a little cheat sheet for the clues that matter and some hints... because I've really made them too subtle to mean anything. Shame on me! They're clear after the fact, but before... maybe not so much. So here goes!

1. The "I am not a Slytherin" letter in CH2 - technically true, but you'll just have to think outside the box on this one.

2. The "Canto I" poem in CH3 - Ron was right about the interpretation (Pluto), not Hermione, even though hers does fit rather well...

3. "Irate meat ahead" CH4 - let's just say that Tom Riddle would get it. The meaning of this is actually revealed later in this chapter, so if you want to ponder this one, don't read ahead yet.

4. The dropped poem in CH5 - it's not the actual words that matter, but the arrangement of them... and if you look close enough you may find a name.

That's it. Hope you enjoy (and don't think I'm too insane). ;)


Chapter Six – Vanished!!

Luna and Harry's relationship didn't improve in the coming days. She was still furious with him for reasons unknown to any but herself, and since he had acquired the unfortunate behavior of resembling a tomato whenever they happened to pass in the halls, the others had taken over the duty of tailing her to make sure she didn't get herself into more trouble than necessary.

All in all, she was being very good. Since the night she had nearly been kidnapped, she had been staying indoors, even during break, although the autumn weather was unusually warm and most students were outside enjoying the Indian Summer. Outwardly, at least, she had stopped showing signs that she was madly in love with an older maniac, but it was really anyone's guess what she was feeling on the inside.

"After all," Hermione said knowledgeably one afternoon as they waited for Charms to begin, "she was in denial. Someone she really cared about turned out to be, er… not exactly what she'd hoped. She couldn't admit she'd been wrong when she wanted so badly for him to be her ideal. It'll wear off. You'll see. Any day now she'll be ready to forgive you, Harry."

But Harry wasn't so sure. She had been purposely avoiding him whenever they happened to meet. Sometimes he would look up and see her coming towards him, a dreamy smile on her lips and face half-hidden beneath the curtain of dirty blonde hair. Harry would freeze, then force himself to open his mouth, words miraculously on the tip of his tongue, but she'd gracefully turn her head, hum a random tune to herself (often "Weasley is My King" with alarming frequency) and sweep on by. Which left Harry stupidly staring after her, clenching his fists to keep himself from following her and acting like more of a cad than she already thought he was.

"Oh, let her be," Ron said, half buried in his bag as he searched for his Charms textbook. "She wants to be alone, let her. Anyway, you don't especially care what she thinks, do you, Harry?" He lifted his head and watched Harry rather shrewdly, causing Harry to fidget and make quite a show of taking his wand out of his pocket and laying it neatly next to his quill.

"No. Why should I?"

But he did. So much. That was the entire problem. It was worse even than when Cho had been ignoring him the previous year, because the two of them had never really had anything besides Quidditch in common. With Luna it was different. She wasn't some ideal fantasy of a girl he liked much better in his head than in the flesh: she was real. They had been through so much together and he felt that he knew her better than any other girl (with the exception of Hermione, of course). And even the parts he was confused about, the inner self she kept hidden away under an absentminded, spacey exterior… he wanted to know. Desperately. Would do almost anything to have her show him. And in return, he would give her everything he was.

Not if she refused to speak to him. Which was really rather stupid, he thought as he viciously poked his wand at the chicken he was supposed to be making talk and it squawked angrily in response. If she'd really rather be alone than with friends… and someone who wanted to be more… then she truly was an idiot, and no one he should waste his time with.

He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter. That she was Loony Lovegood and no one he wanted to taint his reputation with, anyway… except that none of it mattered. He was beyond talking himself out of what he felt. The only solution would be to confront her directly and let her decide if they were worth anything. And if she said no… well, he didn't want to think about that. Not yet. He had enough to deal with while Voldemort was on the loose and his Death Eaters already escaped from Azkaban, let alone that secret admirer fellow of Luna's. No. He would make her listen to him. Whatever it took.

All this was good in theory, but when he actually ran into her that night on his way to the Great Hall for supper, he froze and his tongue grew several inches thick within his mouth. Luna barely glanced at him as she fingered her earrings (earrings that eerily resembled dangling fish scales), but the way she moved closer to the wall opposite him as she walked let him know that she was very aware of his presence.

"No," Harry said loudly, so loudly that several passing students looked at him in bewilderment. He ignored them as he crossed the hall and stood directly in her path. For a moment he thought she was going to walk around him, but she stopped and looked up, her face so perfectly normal and composed that he was amazed.

"What do you want, Harry?" she asked calmly, her gray eyes revealing nothing. "Dinner's about to start."

"Oh, you're actually eating now?" he asked and then winced as he realized how rude that sounded and tried again. "Hello, Luna. How are you?"

She looked at him blankly and he swallowed as he realized this was not going well at all. "We need to talk," he said warily.

"We're talking."

"Not here. Somewhere… else. Not so crowded."

Luna stared at him for a moment, not moving, and then repeated, "What do you want, Harry?"

Harry sighed. This would have to do. He took a deep breath as he watched her, trying to mentally build the courage he needed to speak. Strange how he could face a Basilisk and barely flinch but talking to eccentric little girl almost cost him everything he had.

Finally he just blurted it. "We can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?" Blank, blank were her eyes. Uncaring. Cold. Harry swallowed again.

"This. Avoiding each other. Pretending nothing happened."

"I'm being careful. It's not your problem."

"I miss you," Harry said and then bit his tongue as she blinked in surprise. He hadn't meant to say that. But once it had been said, he couldn't take it back and felt he might as well be true about everything else. "I miss you," he repeated. "Talking to you. I want us to be… friends."

Luna shrugged. "Fine. We are."

"That what I'm talking about. This is nothing. It's false. Meaningless."

"What else should it be?" As Harry struggled with this, Luna checked her wrist for a watch, frowned when she saw she wasn't wearing one and sighed. "I really don't have time for this, Harry. We have to get to dinner. I'll see you around."

"Fine. We'll meet later and continue this."

Luna paused, mid-step. She didn't turn around. "I'm busy later."

"Doing what? Writing little love letters to your special friend?"

"Yes, if you must know. Not that it's any of your business or ever has been." Luna spun around and faced him, her eyes flashing with the emotion she had so carefully kept hidden earlier. "I told you before to leave me alone, Harry. I wasn't joking or lying or whatever you seem to think I was. I'm so tired of doing this. The insinuations, the stalking…"

"Stalking!" Harry interrupted. "You think I'm the one you should be worried about?"

"Well, okay, no. I know you're harmless, but so is my friend. I'm so tired of you telling me what to do and trying to ruin whatever happiness I find for myself."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Harry asked quietly, stunned by this. Luna looked at him directly and her eyes were pained. "I just want to help. I'm trying to keep you from being hurt."

"Welcome to the world!" Luna exclaimed. "You can't plan someone else's life for them. It's all just guess and check… and if I get hurt, so what. I'll learn. I don't need you to lead me by the hand anywhere. Why did you take me on as your special project, anyway?"

"Because I care about you, alright?" Harry burst and at the look on her face, embarrassed and silently pleading with him to stop, he reddened and added, "I care about you. I want you to be happy."

"And what? You're the person who decides what makes me happy?" Luna was blushing, too, and much as his brain was telling him to shut up and walk away before he made things worse, Harry opened his mouth and leaped further into the pit of humiliation and self-loathing.

"Maybe I want to. Be the person who makes you happy."

"Right now you're just making me want to scream. Do me a favor, Harry, and stay away from me. Just stay away. I don't want to see you again. I don't want to talk to you if this is the way things are going to be when we speak."

"Luna, please. I'm sorry. Hey," Harry said quickly when she turned again to leave and reached out to take her hand. Luna stiffened at his touch but then relaxed as she looked back at him. Her hand was very warm clasped in his, and she squeezed his hand slightly as if in apology.

For a moment he wondered if he should make some dramatic gesture and kiss her hand like knights of olde, but then decided he'd already humiliated himself enough that night and cleared his throat to speak again. "I just like spending time with you," he said awkwardly, eyes on the ground. "I don't want to lose you."

"Lose me? Harry, you can't lose me. Because we're not…"

"Anything. I know. But I'm saying I want to be. And I don't think I'm too far off if I say that somewhere inside you do, too." He held his breath at that last word, head pounding with the suspense of each second as she stayed silent. Luna looked at him, truly looked at him, her eyes probing his own deeply. There was a glimmer in them, a wetness, as her chest rose and fell with each breath.

"You're right," she said finally, softly. "I am in love." But just when Harry was allowing feeling to creep back into his chest, she gently extricated her hand from his and took a step back. "Just not with you. I'm sorry."

Harry was stunned. "Luna," he started as she started backing away.

"Stay away from me, Harry. I'm begging you. If you meant what you said, you'll respect that. Leave me alone. It's best. And if you don't, I'll go to Flitwick. I swear I will. Stay away from me." And with that, she turned and hurried off, head bent over her folded arms, leaving Harry standing behind, feeling like the biggest ass in the world. Because after a plea like that, there was really nothing he could do. It was finished.

0 0 0

Harry went back to the Gryffindor Common Room and sat in the armchair by the fire. Just sitting. His brain was too in shock to form thoughts of any consequence. Hermione and Ron left him alone when they came back from dinner, and he was grateful. It was almost like they already knew.

0 0 0

Things were very quiet after that. Ron and Hermione were brightly cheerful with him the next few days, and didn't mention the fact that he was withdrawn into himself during lessons and in-between. They took extra care not to bicker in front of him, and Hermione let him copy her homework when he was too distracted to do it himself. And Ron didn't even complain about the unfairness.

As for Luna… he didn't see her at all, and it was probably better than way. She had learned which routes he took to his classes and carefully avoided running into him… an action Harry was secretly glad for. He didn't know what he would say if he saw her, what he would do. With part of him wanting to rush forward and frantically kiss her, and the other wishing he'd never met her at all… it would have been a complicated reunion. One he wished to delay. And in the meantime, he would do his best to forget her, an action that was turning out to be far more difficult than he would have thought a month ago.

For a few days it seemed that all was going to be alright. Luna hated him, sure, but at least she was safe. She wasn't stupid enough to go trotting out by herself at night again, and her admirer had stopped sending Harry letters. Part of him felt that he had been overreacting, and the other that kept caution alive was curiously silent in the face of his current dilemma.

All this, however, was before Hermione suddenly looked up from her Transfiguration notes one day in class and gasped.

Professor McGonagall stopped lecturing and turned away from the parrot she was about to turn into zebra and frowned at Hermione, as did most of the class. "Miss Granger, that reaction is usually saved for after I do my transfigurations, not before. Are you quite well?"

Hermione did not look well at all. Her hands were clasped over her mouth and her eyes stared wildly at the parchment in front of her. She was so pale that Nearly Headless Nick would have appeared tan had he materialized next to her. Ron nudged her slightly in question, but she shook her head and wouldn't look at him.

"I… I have to see Madam Pomfrey. I… I think I'm coming down with the flu. I feel awful. Wretched, really."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes and watched her suspiciously, but finally waved a hand and nodded. "As you wish. Hurry, Miss Granger, and pray next time go to the nurse before you interrupt my class." But she smiled kindly to show that she wasn't really angry as Hermione stood shakily and gathered her books in her arms. Harry reached out a hand to grab her sleeve but she dodged out of the way, mouthed "later" and hurried out of the classroom while Harry and Ron exchanged bewildered looks.

The rest of the hour was near torture. Harry wasn't even impressed when McGonagall turned the parrot into a zebra and then a wallaby to demonstrate cross-species Transfiguration. Ron, beside him, was even more anxious than he, and kept glancing over at the door as if hoping Hermione would appear in the doorway. But she didn't. When the bell finally rang, it wasn't nearly soon enough.

Harry and Ron raced down the hallway toward the hospital wing after class, but they didn't get very far before they saw Hermione standing in a corner, waving them over frantically.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Ron asked anxiously, reaching out as if to touch her shoulder but then rapidly pulling his hand back to his side.

"I'm fine. I'm okay. It's not me… it's, oh dear… we've been seeing it all wrong. And now… what he'll do…We have to stop… before. Oh no."

"Hermione." Harry was very alarmed. He had rarely seen Hermione like this, and only in situations of extreme danger. "What is it? What do you know?"

She took a deep gasping breath to calm herself and then looked at him, her eyes wide. "It's Luna," she said breathlessly and then retrieved a piece of parchment from her pocket and her hands trembled as she unfolded it. "She's in trouble. Big trouble."

At the sound of the name, Harry's heart leapt and he reached for the paper she held. It was the poem Hermione had taken from Luna earlier, the one none of them had understood.

Irate meat ahead
Err, old lovers vomited
Odiously meaty wool
You olive

Eternally Yours

"Yes?" he prompted, hands clutching the note. Hermione looked like she was about to faint and Ron put a friendly arm around her shoulders; she leaned into him gratefully.

"It was when we were in class. I was tracing the words 'I love you' in my notebook and I saw…"

"Why were you doing that?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Hermione said nothing.

Ron said nothing.

"Never mind, it doesn't matter. Go ahead. What happened."

Hermione cleared her throat. "The poem," she said desperately, shaking a hand at it. "You olive. Oh, don't you see? It's an anagram. A riddle. Why didn't I notice earlier?"

Harry stared at the parchment he held, confused. "An anagram?"

"Yes, and I spent the last hour working out the rest of it. It's worse than we thought. We have to tell her. Now. Before… oh no."

"Hermione, what…?"

"Turn it around," she said anxiously. "I wrote on the back. It's bad."

Harry stared at her for another second before turning the parchment around, the lump in his throat gaining weight with each breath. Hermione's usually neat handwriting was scribbled shakily on the back, and the words he read gave him no comfort. Ice crept down his spine.

Irate meat ahead – I am a Death Eater
Err, old lovers vomited – I serve Lord Voldemort
Odiously meaty wool – Someday you will too
You olive – I love you

"Harry, we have to find her. She has to know who's after her," Hermione said desperately and Harry looked up, feeling dazed. He handed the letter to Ron, whose face grew darker and darker as he read.

There was no hesitation, not even for a second. "Let's go," he said, and the three of them took off running.

0 0 0

But finding Luna was easier said than done. They ran into Neville and Ginny on the stairs, and Ginny told them that Luna had Herbology next. Neville offered to check and hurried off to the greenhouses while the others stood around anxiously and Ginny turned as pale as Hermione when she was handed the letter. Within a few minutes, Neville returned, red-faced and breathing through his mouth. Luna, he reported, was not in class, and from what he could tell by asking one of the fifth years, she hadn't been to her classes all day.

They decided the next logical place to check was the hospital wing, and as they hurried along, Harry found himself thinking half-amusedly that he had never wished someone would be in the hospital wing before. But Madam Pomfrey looked faintly annoyed when they burst in demanding to see Luna, and confirmed that she, too, hadn't seen her all day. They ran before she could ask them what they were doing out of class.

"So what do we do now?" Ginny asked anxiously once they were safely in a deserted hallway. She wrung her hands and looked pleadingly at Harry as if he had all the answers. He wished he did.

"Check the Ravenclaw common room," he said, wanting to sound more confident than he did. "She must be there." So they went.

But it did no good, because the satyr portrait that guarded the entrance laughed merrily and refused entrance without a password, even as they yelled at him in frustration. Finally, a curly-haired redhead opened the portrait and glared out into the hall.

"And what are you all doing out here?" she demanded. "Some of us are trying to study."

"Prudentia," Ginny said desperately, "have you seen Luna?"

"Yes, I've seen her," the girl said sarcastically.

"Recently?"

Prudentia seemed quite struck by that. "Well… no. I haven't thought about it. She was at breakfast. Maybe."

"Could you check?" Ginny asked, and when Prudentia turned a surprised look at her because of her tone, added, "We wouldn't ask, except that it's really important. Please, Pru. We need your help."

"I'll get her," Prudentia said, looking confused, but nodding. She went back through the portrait hole and shut the frame behind her. The satyr leaned against the tree and played his lute lazily.

Those few minutes while they waited were terrible. Neville paced back and forth, glancing at the portrait every few seconds as if hoping Luna would magically materialize. Ron and Hermione were leaned into each other, whispering, completely unself-conscious about holding hands. And Ginny stared at the ground chewing her lip, so pale that her freckles stood out like dark blemishes against her skin. As for Harry… it was better not to say what Harry was feeling because his insides were dancing and at war with each other.

Prudentia returned within minutes but it felt like hours. The instant the portrait opened, all five Gryffindors snapped to attention and crowded around her. Prudentia's red eyebrows were raised almost to her hairline as she stared at them unabashedly.

"Well?" Harry demanded. "Where is she?"

"She's not here. Check the library," Prudentia said shrugging, completely unconcerned and unaware what her casual words did to Luna's friends. "She's been more serious lately. I think she's finally realized how important OWL year is to us all, because this is…"

"Not there?" Ron demanded and Prudentia looked at him in blunt surprise.

"That's what I said. And she's taken that hideous bear with her. I hope she's gotten rid of it. I swear that thing has real eyes. It was like it watched me while I slept. I hated it. Hey… where are you going? Ginny!" But the five raced away from the Ravenclaw wing, feeling more sick than before.

"Harry," Hermione gasped as they ran. "The map!"

For a minute Harry didn't understand, but then he felt like smacking himself. Of course, the Mauraders Map. Why didn't he think of that earlier? "Come on," he said, leading the way up the stairs to their own common room.

Harry raced into the dorm, the others at his heels, and dove under his bed to where he kept the map, wrapped in an old puce-colored flannel shirt of Dudley's. He unrolled it, tapped it with his wand, and anxiously waited as Hogwarts appeared before him.

He and Hermione, leaning over his shoulder, scanned the map. Neville didn't register any surprise at seeing it, even though he must have been very confused. Soon, Harry's lump in his throat dropped to his stomach, because as much as he looked, no dot reading 'Luna Lovegood' appeared on the map. She was simply not in the castle or anywhere on the grounds.

"I don't believe this," Hermione said, white. "He has her. He must have her."

"How?" Ron asked in disbelief. "He couldn't exactly sweep in her and grab her. That would cause too many questions."

"The bear," Hermione said in a choked voice. "It must have been a portkey."

"But she's had it all year," Ginny protested.

"I know. But there is a spell to turn it on and off at will. His will. And now he has her."

Harry stared furiously at the map, wishing, hoping they'd somehow missed her. His insides felt like ice. Luna was gone, and unless the admirer contacted him again to taunt him, there was no way he could find her. Ever again.

He had never been a particularly pious boy, but right then he felt like praying. Please let her be safe, he thought desperately. Until I can find her. I will find her. And I'll make him wish he never laid a hand on her.

And with that silent promise, Harry shut his eyes in despair.