Into Your Gravity
Chapter Thirty-One: Cause and Effect

Disclaimer: Well, I mailed a politely-written, thought-provoking letter to JKR's attorney, asking him to pass along my request that JKR consider my proposal of handing over the rights to me. I thought she might consider it, seeing as I'm a poor college student with little income and no discernible life skills that will raise me from the poverty level, but I haven't heard back. I'm slightly discouraged, as the postage it took to mail the package all the way to the UK cost about a meal, and I hope that sits on her conscience for a while. In any case, the fact remains that I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: I know I said this would be the last chapter but I LIED. There's one more. I had to put in all this depressing stuff, and it all got too long in comparison to all the other chapter, so I split it in two. Also, you can thank the Harry Potter movies for inspiring me to write again. I adore you all.

"And who do you think you are
Running 'round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart?
You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul.
So don't come back for me.
Who do you think you are?"
-Christina Perri, "Jar of Hearts"

Luna was woken up late the next morning by Jugson. He wasn't wearing a mask, and having never seen his face before, she only recognized him by his Scottish accent as he shook her awake.

"Wake up," he said, his gruff voice oddly gentle.

Bleary-eyed, Luna blinked herself into consciousness. "How's your leg?" she asked sleepily.

He snorted. "It's fine. Got it tended to. The wife wasn't pleased."

Luna looked more closely at his face. If she had met him and his wife in a shop, she would never have known he was a death eater. She wanted to ask how he'd become one, and she was about to do so, but before she could, he was shoving a plate full of food at her.

"Eat up, little one. Don't know why you're still alive, but so long as you are, you ought to stay healthy," he remarked, eyeing her frail frame disapprovingly.

"Why do you care?" she asked, though she obligingly took a bite.

"You remind me of my daughter, though you're a bit older than she is," he admitted brusquely, then shook his head. "You eat all that quick now; we have to leave."

The food in her mouth seemed to turn to ash at his mentioning his daughter, and an ache rocked her heart, but she was distracted as he revealed they were leaving. "What? Where are we going?" she asked.

"None of your business, you ought to know that. Snape brought word that the Order's planning another attack tonight, and the Dark Lord thought it best that we move to another location."

Luna absorbed this information silently. Professor Snape was a triple agent. Anything he told Voldemort, he told him strategically. Or because he had to. Her stomach clenched at the thought of it being tortured out of him; but no, the way Jugson had said it had made it sound as though it had been voluntary. Which had to mean that any move Voldemort made would be preempted by the Order.

A small flutter of hope bloomed in her chest at the thought of seeing her friends again. Hadn't Voldemort told her that another attack might be too much for the death eaters to handle?

Bellatrix suddenly breezed in through the door, obviously checking up on them. "Not telling her anything confidential again, are we, Jugson?" she cooed.

Luna's nose wrinkled in disgust, and for the first time, she wished she had her wand just for the purpose of cursing someone into oblivion. She blinked as she realized this, and she supposed she'd been spending too much time with the wrong sort of witches and wizards. The realization did not, however, ease her rage.

Jugson answered, "Not anything the Dark Lord probably wouldn't tell her himself." There was overt mocking in his voice, an illicit implication, and he was clearly taking great pleasure in the fact that Luna was somehow in Voldemort's favor, much to Bella's dismay.

In a flash, Bellatrix had her wand drawn and pointed at Jugson.

"And just what are you doing, Bella?" came Tom's voice, as he appeared in the doorway that she had left ajar.

A look of horror crossed her face, and she spun around, dropping her wand to her side and bowing her head. "Nothing, my lord," she simpered.

"Go make yourself useful, and leave Jugson to the duty he was assigned," Voldemort said shortly, his eyes flashing.

"Yes, my lord. Thank you." Bellatrix left quickly, but took the time to toss a glare at Luna and Jugson over her shoulder, her eyes flashing behind wild black hair.

Jugson had stood when Voldemort had entered the room, and he now bowed. "Just finishing her breakfast, and then she'll be ready, my lord," he said to the floor.

"Good. And if you ever purposefully bait Bellatrix again, you will not be able to stand as you are now," Tom said smoothly. "It isn't a wise thing to do, whether I'm present or not." To Luna's horror, Bellatrix's violent nature seemed to amuse him.

"Understood, my lord," the other man replied, bowing lower.

Voldemort's eyes shifted to where Luna was sitting on the bed, but she was studiously ignoring him in favor of her breakfast plate. He returned his gaze to Jugson and said, "Wait outside the door."

Jugson nodded and shuffled out into the corridor, pulling the heavy wood door closed behind him.

Tom waited until the door was shut, then said, "I'm certain Jugson's already told you that we are leaving this headquarters."

She nodded silently, acting very interested in the slice of bacon in her fingers.

He reached into the pocket of his jet black robes and pulled out her necklace, the chain newly mended. He held it out to her. When she didn't take it, he said, "Put it on."

"I don't want it," she said quietly, her voice bitter.

The next second, and Tom's long fingers were wrapped around her chin, forcing her into eye contact. She dropped the bacon in surprise. "I didn't ask if you wanted it. You'll put it on, and you'll keep it on," he said in a low, carefully contained voice.

She swallowed hard, staring in his eyes, which seemed less bright than usual, in addition to his lack of patience. She was unwilling to risk her life when she was so close to seeing her friends again. "Fine," she whispered.

He released her, dropping the necklace in her lap. "Now. Let's go."

"We're leaving right now?" she asked as she obediently put the necklace on, feeling its familiar weight and warmth.

"Yes. Up," he replied shortly as he swept towards the door and opened it. "Jugson, put her out."

"Yes, my lord," Jugson answered, pulling his wand out.

Luna had time to say, "Excuse me?" before she was knocked out.

Luna woke up mid-afternoon. She was lying on a dusty, moth-eaten bed, the sheets of which looked as if they hadn't been touched in decades. As she sat up to look around, a puff of dust rose from the mattress and made her sneeze. The room she was in looked like a spare bedroom of what once had been a fancy manor. The furnishings were grand, but as dusty as the bed and in disrepair. The window had been boarded shut.

She was just looking at the portraits on the wall, which weren't moving, so this had to be a muggle's house, when the door opened. Tom walked in and it seemed as if the temperature itself dropped a few degrees.

Avoiding looking at him, she inspected the nearest portrait closely. It was dusty as everything in the room, and she reached up to wipe some of the grime away so she could see it properly as he spoke.

"Has Jugson been in with any food?" he asked as he shut the door once more.

"Not since I've been awake, which has only been a few minutes," she replied, peering at the family in the portrait. "Is that you?" she asked suddenly. The young man in the painting looked almost exactly like Tom. He was standing next to two older people who she assumed were his parents.

"No. That's my father." Ice had crept into his voice, and he crossed the room to look at the portrait over her shoulder.

"I'm assuming you killed him as soon as I left," she said, turning toward him. She was beginning to wonder why he'd come in. It was almost like he was hovering.

"Indeed."

Luna frowned. "You have a bad habit of killing fathers."

He shot her a glare. "Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Only if you think killing fathers is funny," she replied.

"Bellatrix killed your father," he growled. "And not on my orders."

"And you wouldn't have done it if she hadn't?" Luna demanded. She continued to make unabashed eye contact, something he was still clearly not used to. His whole manner seemed tense.

"She did. Playing a game of 'what if' is irrelevant," he replied, looking down his nose at her.

"That's a non-answer," she shot back.

Tom ground his teeth together. "You do realize that if you were anyone else, you would be dead by now."

"Kill me, then. I'd rather be anyone else," she whispered, her eyes falling to the floor.

He said nothing for a moment, reaching out and tracing the shape of the stone that hung around her neck against her will. "You would rather be dead," he repeated.

Luna didn't answer and wouldn't look at him. Her heart was aching, and she was disgusted with herself that she still cared for the boy living inside this monster. Her head ached painfully. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that Snape had told the Order where they were, and she would either be free or dead by tomorrow.

Suddenly, she was pressed back against the wall, and Tom's face was centimeters away from hers. He looked utterly furious, and she felt her heart skip into a rapid beat. "Snape works for the Order?" he managed to spit out.

The blood drained out of Luna's face. "You were doing Legilimency!" she said accusingly, realizing her mistake too late.

Voldemort released her and began pacing the room. She hadn't seen him so frantically angry since they had been in school together. "So," he seethed, "dear old Severus works for the Order after all. Bella was right all along; she'll be unbearably pleased with herself. And now I see this movement was all part of their strategy. It is better for them for us to be here, with less time to set up proper defenses." He was ranting, obviously thinking out loud. "But how did you know?" he demanded, suddenly turning back to her.

"I -" she started to say, feeling afraid.

"Ah, I see," he interrupted. "You don't know; you just drew the connections yourself. Clever, I have to hand it to him. I was watching his mind closely. Well, let them come. If Harry Potter thinks that he can defeat me, he can die for his foolishness, right where I killed my worthless muggle father."

"I hate you," Luna said quietly and suddenly, the words spilling from her mouth before she even realized it, causing him to stop short in his tirade.

He drew close to her again, his beautiful face contorted in fury. "You don't get to hate me," he snarled, "not when you helped make me."

The truth behind his words hit her so forcefully that she limply slid down the wall to the ground in shock. How could she not have realized? She had given love to a boy dangerously close to the edge when he had never known it before, and then she had just taken it all away. Instead of making anything better for him, she had just caused him more pain, enough pain to push him over that edge. She had been a powerful link in the chain reaction that lead him to where he was now. He was right. She had helped create his monster.

She looked up at him through her lashes, feeling numb. He was looking down at her with disdain.

"Keep that necklace on at all times," he said coldly after a long moment, before sweeping out of the room.

Luna stayed on the floor for a long time after he'd gone, feeling weak and lonely. She wished Harry would call off the attack. She wasn't worth it. And she was fairly certain Tom wouldn't remember to tell Jugson to bring her food.