Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, spells etc... they belong to JKR!
A/N/: Special thanks to reviewers: je suis l.m, xxkpxx and THEKOOKS.
Enjoy!
Luna flew, her feet either a foot ahead or a mile back—with no feeling on the end of her ankles she couldn't guess where they had got to. This led her to briefly consider how inconvenient it would be to lose her feet now.
'Hey! Get back here, you brat!' called someone from around the corner; she had just flung herself behind it. Luna pretended the sound belonged to a painting and not to the man who had almost caught up to her. Paintings couldn't chase people, and they certainly couldn't scream jinx after jinx at them.
'I said get back here! STUPEFY!' Luna jumped behind a statue on her right, the spell just missing her. She would count her blessings later, but not right then, for her head just said run.
She obeyed, catching, in the corner of her eye, a fleck of black somewhere a few yards behind. He was quick, she noticed. Breathing became a problem—maintaining it while willing her legs to run faster was not exactly the kind of multi-task she had ever excelled in.
'Stupefy!' he screamed and Luna ran harder, now experimenting with a sort of zigzag motion so that the death eater would not be quite sure which blond girl to aim at. It seemed to be working. She wondered if she would look like a bug of some kind. Or better—one of those jumping spiders, whose every motion seemed to be decided by the level of danger they were in: slow jump to escape a larger arachnid, a huge leap to devour a small fly, or the instant dart; when she saw a spider performed the latter, Luna momentarily suspected the tiny thing could apparate.
Right then, she could no longer picture a human running beneath the dark cloak's material.
She just needed to reach a fork in the corridors, hopefully one that led straight into another bend. That way she would be able to choose her direction before the man could follow—he would just have to guess. Would luck be on her side?
Another voice joined in the chorus the man had now created. It seemed to make him fade away, pulling Draco's words to the forefront. They caught Luna before the men did.
'What were you thinking? You incompetent brute!' Draco snarled, Luna vaguely imagined the scowl that would accompany it.
'I was tricked it wasn't my fault. Don't give me the blame, Malfoy.'
'And why would I do that? I'll blame the bloody candlesticks, shall I?'
'You aren't funny, boy.' The retort sounded dark, and Luna heard every word in perfect clarity, ringing in her ears like the human revealing spell. She sensed their equally quick steps pounding on the floor after her. Running lifted her. It practically made her feel like she could cruise along and let her legs worry about getting to places, and while that feeling stayed within her reach, Luna would not let go. She ran and ran, surprising herself with her quick feet and crazed arms.
A corner materialized and Luna dived for it's safety, almost stopping with relief, eventually stopping from exhaustion. It was not permanent, but she needed the rest. When she could separate every sound the voices made (there was definitely more than Draco and the man now), it was time to restart the race again.
They had taken the other fork, she knew for the collective hunting chants died away, like a wave losing power.
Luna carried on.
She needed to find a door and wouldn't pause again until she was on the other side of it. Hopefully, she would be spared any sneaking around the house's many rooms and the first door she came upon would be the one that led straight outside. Luna supposed the view would overlook the countryside.
A bird swooped over a window, unseen by Luna, who only had eyes for her destination. The thing squawked once and then dived out of sight.
There, she could see a stronger light. If Luna was not mistaken, didn't old manor houses tend to have their largest, sunniest windows situated on the frontal side? She was sure of it, and that momentary reflection was what helped her push through the aching and panting to sprint onwards.
She wheeled clumsily around a final bend, almost tasting the sunlight by then.
That was when—she figured it was anyway—she saw him. Draco Malfoy flanked his father and Aunt Bellatrix. They were storming like a thunder cloud through the entrance hall. They did not see her, for their attention was directed straight ahead and they were not heading her way.
Her feet reattaching themselves to her ankles, Luna froze—unnaturally still. No windows above, or for that matter anywhere near her, Luna allowed the shadows from the two looming walls on either side to provide protection. Under her own black cloak now, Luna sunk back further, her hands feeling for anything that might open.
Harry's cloak would have been a very welcome friend; he had let her use it once. Though not without, and, of course, she had not missed it, a look of grudging reluctance.
It eased her mind to pretend she had it then, as the three dark figures moved down the hall. To feign that her hand draped the thing over her body and let the loose fabric fall in a downpour of invisibility to the floor.
Pretend to be something long enough, and you shall become it...
Wise words, Luna had once heard a witch remarking them to a friend when discussing Harry's 'chosen one' facade. Luna had thought about it often, and, after much to-and-fro-ing, had finally settled with the idea of Harry's status being a genuine disguise in itself. His own personal invisibility cloak—one that did not strike Luna as a thing to be removed any time soon.
Now 'under' the invisibility cloak, Luna moved backwards with more determination. She would find a door, her head told her. Humouring her inner voice's attempt at alleviation, Luna decided it was right.
A second later her hand pressed into coolness and she breathed. The round handle twisted once and softly clicked open. Its door made no sound when she pushed into it. Luna slipped within her hiding place and left her panic outside, where it stayed, slipping away like the discomfort of a sore throat.
Luna kind of had the feeling that it was over. That, somehow, the room would be magical enough to bring her wand back to her. Would it be in there? She did not even know where she was. A musky, damp sort of smell filled the air.
Mixed among other things, was a temptation in Luna to crawl into the corner and hide there, as if doing so would prevent a simple glimpse inside Luna's safe room from revealing her whereabouts. The death eaters would not see Luna if she curled into a ball, far away in the secret corner.
Luna did not curl up, but neither was she brave enough to venture out for a long while. Some distant yelling found her, but it was no longer the noise that frightened her. Instead that eerie, almost horror-inspired silence was what made her blood run a little colder.
She was safe in the noise, as safe as she could be under the circumstances anyway. But if a death eater were to creep quietly, slip a sly hand over the handle and reveal the escapee, well, she would not fight. What was the point without a wand? Unfortunately, Luna had never thought of herself as a very good fighter and had never taken up the opportunity to test her theory. Fighting would never solve anything, but Luna knew that was not always why people did it.
Take the war that was going on outside her little safe-room. In it, neither Harry nor Voldemort seemed to seek resolve or any other cause that could justify a war in Luna's mind, for there was simply none to be found anymore. It was a war of emptiness. Lost promises and a difficult, unrecognisable future that would never live up to what either side wanted. People were fighting, now, because it had become their lives. Once upon a pre-Harry world, Luna imagined Lord Voldemort had fought and killed so many because it was, he believed, the ultimate power over someone. Voldemort adored power more than he ever would anything else; Luna understood that. It was one of the few cases in which she was happy to disagree with anyone about it.
'He's mad, Luna. Mad! Can't you see that?' a friend had once told her. It might have been Ginny. She could not remember. But Lord Voldemort was not mad; he just had a different perspective with which he viewed the world, and, in a way she would never look too deeply into, Luna had always found him a relatable person on that account.
But she also understood how very wrong he was. Power did not mean death.
And Harry? He fought for vengeance. He had never once said it, but it was always there, in his ever-bright eyes. He would always fight for the greater good. Would always remember his parents (he could never forget them; it was not as though he was given a choice in the matter, anyway). In a way, Harry too was like Voldemort because he would always fight.
If she were caught now, Luna would not fight.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
'Here! I swear it was here, woman!' Macnair yelled.
Bellatrix's eyes turned to black spheres, warming her face with no pity. This expression made her fierce, yet she retained all traces of sanity. On a woman like Bella, that meant bad news.
Macnair did not speak again.
'I saw her further along,' she said.
'How far?' someone asked.
'Further.'
The group split into many strands, and all took stray paths away from the entrance hall. All except Draco, who leaned against the front door, comfortably marking his post by leaning his head back and yawning as though bored with this sudden chaos.
Bellatrix shot him a probing glance.
Draco explained: 'If we all go looking, she'll get out. She won't be able to apparate until she's past the gate anyway, and I can see it from here.' Bellatrix appraised her Nephew with an odd sort of regard before sprinting away.
Draco's wand stayed at his side, but tilted forward: His spell directed into the passageway opposite.
'Remaneo...'
He had only whispered, but he had a feeling someone heard.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Despite the silence, Luna's ears burned from overload. She was forcing her auditory range to expand like a well learned protego charm. She could find and interpret the soft clicking that belonged to the old grandfather clock she had passed when sprinting—not really noticing it at the time.
Nearly everything reverberated back to her. But then why could Luna not find the hurried steps of her pursuers? She heard something, but it was not pacing. More like a gentle murmur.
She wondered if they had cast a spell to silence themselves, but it was pointless really. Should Luna catch the first sign of their approach it would not help in any way other than to prepare her for a confrontation. She hoped it would not be too grand a show of her capture.
Grand... Malfoy Manor was grand, but to what extent? Would it be so large as to stretch back half a mile or so, far enough that the death eaters could be corridors away? Luna seized this notion with a new energy. It propelled her to open the door, just to check.
She could not see anyone, just a faint shift in the light that did not worry her. It would only be a curtain flapping, reaching out for the sun's evading warmth; like ivy crawling slyly up a wall.
Behind her the door clicked softly shut, her secret room lost once more behind the wood.
Luna wanted to preserve the courage she felt—the unmistakable euphoria of adrenalin. She would have loved to stow it away in a little bucket, lay the carpet of time over and keep it again until she needed it most. Of course she could not truly do that, but she went along with the strange mental game anyway, because it was fun. Luna slipped through the house like an old ghost who knew her way well; it was just one last, albeit long, passageway, and then there was freedom. It was enough to follow this thought's train, even though Luna did not trust it.
It had been far too easy. She only wished that realisation had been enough to halt her feet. As it was, she walked on.
Luna walked on, and on and on.
She could not stop.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
He saw her nose first, peeking out from the door she was hidden behind. He had known she was there for a while, but this would be more fun than merely bursting in and carting her back to the dungeons.
No this would be fun, almost like a game, and God only knows Draco was ready to play something.
She crept out, more of her face appearing. Draco almost laughed. Did little Loony actually think a casual, floating nose would not seem strange?
Once her eyes popped into existence, he fully retreated.
She seemed to have caught the flicker his ring cast upon the sun rays but dismissed it.
And then her light steps started. Oh, how brilliant it was; she just kept walking. The stupid little girl, she had not even noticed.
Draco peeked around the corner.
Yes, she was still staring straight ahead. Loony was in a world where nothing would come between herself, the front door, and freedom. In that world, Draco's spell did not exist.
He watched the girl walk aimlessly for about ten minutes. Then, when Draco had begun to tire of spying, he stepped out.
'Sorry, am I in your way?' Draco laughed.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Draco's shadow dominated the floor, shading the stone with long obscuring limbs.
But then, oddly enough, when Luna turned around to escape, she just couldn't. Though she felt her feet move, turn around, and retrace her steps, she went nowhere. The shade Draco cast upon her did not shift at all.
Luna became aware of the continuum charm and, once she sensed it, could see the traces of magic. She was baffled at how she had obliviously ignored it. It seemed so foolish now—who could possibly roam a corridor for a douzen or more minutes?
An ant, possibly. But Luna was not small enough to be mistaken for such a strongly built, yet minuscule insect (a confusing thought at its best).
Luna stumbled along, her tired legs weighing her down and the light seeming so far away.
It was so, so far...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
'You feel it?' Bellatrix asked Greyback. He turned around, as though he could see through the wall. Bellatrix spoke to him through the parallel passageway—the two were separated by only a thin wall. It was through it that he first heard Bellatrix's whispered joy.
'Yes. Downstairs?' he asked, referring to the sudden pull of magic. Draco's spell surged its way through the house as though desperate to be shared with other wizards.
'Oh goody!' Fenrir followed Bella's gleeful laughter down the walk, and they met at the staircase.
They were close to the back of the mansion and so had a long walk ahead of themselves before they would reached the source of the magical pull.
'You believe him?'
'Who Macnair? Fenrir what kind of idiot would I have to be to be—'
Fenrir shook his head.'No Bella, Vol—the dark lord!'
Bellatrix's face froze as slashes of offence spoiled her otherwise perfectly controlled expression.
'I believe it is never within our rights to question his actions...' Bella positivity hissed.
Fenrir could not believe Bellatrix sometimes. Take then, for instance.
'...or his reasons.' She frowned, her eyes slipping to the floor.
'And Narcissa?'
'Same as before.' She nodded. Narcissa would never change. She would adore her son beyond anything else the world had to offer. Bellatrix had never understood that, and she had tried to.
'But, Draco—he's not a-a... murderer!' Fenrir could not see what demon had possessed the dark lord when he had concocted this bizarre and seemingly impossible request.
'Draco understands the risks. He knows what is expected but is still willing. Although, I do not think he has yet learned the risk it will require of him.' Bella did not see it fit to finish. They both knew of Draco's fate. Neither could help it, and neither would truly want to. Not in the end.
They both retreated into a silence that neither would break until they reached the entrance hall, where Draco would be.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
'Remaneo?' Luna asked him, her eyes on his shadow.
Draco smirked.
'Hmmm, yes," she continued. "You've cast it quite well. We never needed to test in school before. There was never really enough room in the charms classroom for moving around to test it.' She smiled sadly and let her eyes settle on the door, behind Draco. Hogwarts had been so long ago. 'That's why I didn't realise, you see.' Luna looked at Draco, who was leaning strangely against the wall.
Sardonically, Draco offered his 'apology': 'And here I thought you were just plain oblivious! Do forgive me.'
'That's quite all right,' responded Luna, her manner of staring behind Draco's shoulder doing nothing to help defend herself against his insult.
Draco mumbled something indistinguishable.
She did not feel the spell because the view behind Draco was simply far more entertaining.
'Please let me go.' She sighed as the ground beneath her feet shook, opening into blackness that Luna did not want to be handed over to.
Draco glued her feet to the floor with a sticking hex, his eyes ablaze with the thrill of waving a wand in front of a helpless witch's face.
Luna knew something was wrong. The Remaneo-induced continuum came to an abrupt end, and soon she was being sucked downwards. Like a petal floating in a bathtub, she tried to keep herself from submitting into the forceful current as the plug was peeled back and the water swirled. The whirling ripped her from the corridor and down she went. The dark wave pulled at the remaining strands that kept Luna afloat, and she sank.
Draco disappeared with a soft swish, and she was alone. Her feet touched down on the cold floor first, closely followed by her knees, palms and cheek.
'Well that was different,' remarked Luna.
It was a curious place, she observed, looking around at her destination.
Draco was already descending down to her level, his hand holding her neck as he brought her up to meet his level.
'I won't hurt you-' He seemed torn. Had he not held her throat so tightly, Luna might have offered thanks for her allowance of peace, after asking him to please not bring her downstairs in such a horrible manner again
His grip tightened, the wand glowed with a dominating beam that pressed in on Luna's wide eyes.
Then, Draco declared, voice bold (mirroring none of his earlier cowardice when Luna had been tortured by his Aunt): '-but I'm not setting you free either.'
