Chapter 5

By Allen's third day in the hospital wing, he was restless, bored, and worst of all, hungry.

"Please, I promise not to strain myself," he begged Madame Pomfrey with his most winning smile. "I need to walk around."

"Let's see if you can walk before we talk about taking meals elsewhere," she replied, and Allen surprised her by standing on his feet and taking a few unsteady steps on his own, his hand on the bed the whole time. Allen's legs still weren't working properly, even after the potions and spells. Still, he no longer collapsed on his feet, and that was progress.

"Walk up and down the length of the wing," she commanded, handing him a pair of crutches and helping him adjust the height. Madame Pomfrey pushed aside the partition and Allen limped a few steps forward, then stopped and stared.

He paused at the deep gauges in the stone floor, the boarded-up holes where the windows once were, the chunks missing in the walls. He stared, and Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Did I…?" he asked softly, knowing the truth.

"Walk up and down the length of the wing," Madame Pomfrey ordered again, her voice softer, and he looked away from the damage he'd caused and did as she said. Only after several more tests and making sure he got the hang of the crutches did Madame Pomfrey give the OK for him to go to the dining hall.

"I'll call Professor McGonagall to escort you down. And you must promise me not to eat too much—you are still recovering and too much food will make you sick." Allen stared at her a moment, not quite having the heart to inform her that his idea of "too much" and her idea were probably quite different.

"I'm sure I can find the hall on my own," he tried instead, to which he got a stern look and a firm, "No."

"Hogwarts is confusing enough for those of us who've been here for years. A newcomer like you will need a guide. That's my condition for you going down." When she'd turned around and gone back to her office, Allen stuck his tongue out at her. He was certain that it was just an excuse, anyway.

No matter where I go, he lamented silently. I can't be trusted to be by myself.

He missed Timcampy. He still hasn't seen Tim once since waking up—and it scared him more than he could say. Without Tim, he was lost—the one companion he had left. The first thing he was going to do when he was out of here was find Tim, even if he had to crawl around on his hands and knees to do it.

His stomach growled noisily, protesting that priority for a more immediate need. The doors to the wing opened and the stern woman from before, McGonagall, walked inside. She eyed the crutches tucked under Allen's arms. "The Great Hall is this way, if you'll follow me."

Allen soon saw why Madame Pomfrey had insisted on him having a guide. This place was an absolute maze. He was lost before they left the floor, and gaped at the moving staircases and portraits. Moving pictures—he'd stopped and stared like a total idiot until McGonagall called him over, sounding impatient and, if he'd had a mind to catch it, a bit surprised.

They finally reached the bottom floor, Allen's head reeling from the moving stairs, the talking pictures, the sheer size of this place—his mouth seemed unhinged from his jaw, unable to remain shut. McGonagall glanced back at this strange boy, and couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled up. The boy was like a Muggleborn first year—wide-eyed and overawed by the majesty of the castle. In someone his age, it was both refreshing and just a tiny bit confusing.

"Here we are," she announced crisply, hiding the curiosity and motioning to the doors of the Great Hall—which were at least fifteen feet tall and made of heavy oak. Allen turned back toward her, his mouth finally closing, and glanced nervously at the doors, and then the front entrance leading outside, several yards away. With a resigned sigh, he followed McGonagall inside.

The doors to the Great Hall opened and several students looked over to watch a white-haired stranger limp inside, supported by crutches. Furious whispers went up as more people turned around to get a good look. Allen saw this and sighed, turning toward McGonagall as she came in behind him.

"Sit anywhere you like," she said, motioning to the four tables before him. "When you're finished you can find me at the front table—" she pointed toward it and Allen nodded, "and then we can go see Professor Dumbledore. He is the headmaster and wants to speak with you about what happened."

Allen nodded to indicate he understood. "Thank you," Allen said, offering up a small smile.

McGonagall nodded and walked off. Allen glanced around and picked the table to his immediate right, picking a seat away from the staring crowd of students in blue ties. He leaned the crutches against the table, and, carefully maneuvering, swung his legs over the bench. Then he realized he didn't have any food, but there hadn't been a window or a buffet line—

He blinked and where there had been empty table space before, a veritable feast of steaming vegetables, rice, pasta, baskets of rolls, and even an entire roast chicken sat in front of him. A pitcher of that strange orange juice sat a little to the side. Allen stared, mouth agape, and then pinched himself.

"I've died and gone to Heaven," he muttered, reaching out and filling his plate. Taking a bite into a chicken leg he nearly cried. It was so good!

The whole chicken was soon gone, along with the side dishes. To Allen's joy the meal replenished itself and soon he had cleared several rounds of dishes, each time replenishing itself with fresh food. Students stared as the stranger packed the food away, and from the head table McGonagall's mouth hung open with mixed awe and disgust.

"You have a swarm of snorkaks hovering above your head, you know." Allen started, nearly choking on his pilaf. As he coughed, he looked up to see a girl with white-blond hair and a slightly vacant expression staring serenely down at him. Throat clear, Allen stared a moment longer and then replied, "I'm sorry?"

"Snorkaks. They like to nest in people's ears and give them bad dreams."

"Oh," Allen replied dumbly, setting his fork down. "That's nice."

"I suppose. My name is Luna Lovegood. What's yours?"

"Allen Walker."

"It's nice to meet you, Allen Walker. May I join you?"

"Uh, sure," Allen said, gesturing at the place beside him. Luna joined him and a setting of lunch appeared in front her. Unmoved by the display, Luna stacked her plate with rice pilaf and veggies, as Allen looked on hungrily.

"You can have the rest, if you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"Thanks," he replied, and reached for the plates, pulling them in front of him and getting started. They ate in silence for a while, Allen polishing off the bowl of pilaf while Luna ate more slowly.

"So you are the student who survived the curse." He glanced at her, and then just nodded, not knowing how else to react. "I've never seen you before. Are you new?"

"Uh, no," Allen replied, feeling a bit awkward. "I'm just passing through."

"What happened to your legs? You were limping when you came in."

"I…ran into something," Allen replied unsteadily, and then swallowed and repeated more confidently, "I ran into something."

"What did you run into?"

Allen stared at her. She seemed harmless. Her gaze remained on his face as she unflinchingly and patiently waited for his reply. "Uh…I…I don't really remember, I must have hit my head," Allen answered. It sounded weak even to him, but Luna didn't seem phased as she nodded.

Quite frankly, he had no idea what was wrong with his legs. They'd been alright before, when he'd escaped the Order, only hurting from the restraints put on them. Whatever the curse had been, it had so debilitated him that he couldn't walk without help and even his arms weren't as strong as they should have been. It worried him that he'd be defenseless if an Akuma decided to attack. If he hadn't tested it himself, he would have thought that whatever had happened to his body had affected his Innocence. He was grateful that wasn't the case, but all the same…

"Madame Pomfrey may be able to help you with that. She has some memory repair charms, I think. I'm fairly certain she does…it's a tricky business, memory magic."

"Charms?" Allen stared at her, eyebrow raised and doubtful. "Memory charms?" She nodded once, completely serious.

"Yes, memory charms."

Allen desperately needed to change the subject. "Um…so…the food. It's really great."

Taking the change in stride, Luna nodded again. "Hm, yes. The house elves prepare it down in the kitchens and then magic it back up to the Hall. That way we don't ever see them. Sort of a shame really, I think they're rather cute."

"House elves," Allen replied blankly, food untouched as he stared at this strange girl. "What's a house elf?"

For the first time some of the vacancy left her expression. "It's a little creature, they serve wizards?" The way she said it, it wasn't judgmental or demeaning; it was as if she was realizing something and merely trying to help Allen understand.

"Wizards."

"Yes, wizards," she replied, again without judgment.

"Oh." Allen said, staring. Then it clicked together in his mind and he exclaimed, "Wait, magic?!" Some other students who heard Allen's exclamation glanced over, but Allen was too occupied to notice.

"Well, yes, how did you think it appeared there?"

"I…uh…I don't know! It was just…" He gestured with his hands, trying to find the words, and then sputtered out, "It was there one minute, and, and…! What the—my plates are gone—" He sputtered again, hands hovering over empty space until more dishes appeared and Allen gasped out, "DESSERT."

Luna watched, amused, as Allen began to pile onto a fresh plate cakes and truffles and pastries and puddings and all kinds of treats that were sweet, delicious, and cold. So did other students, gaping at the fact that this kid who'd just eaten enough food for an entire House by himself was packing away even more food, a look of absolute delight on his face.

If Heaven consisted of magically appearing food, perhaps dying wasn't so bad after all. Worried over what Central might put in his food, Allen had basically fasted the last month, eating only when he was forced to; karma seemed on his side as he sat and enjoyed every morsel and Allen was certain he'd never enjoyed food this much in his life… Alright, that was a stretch, but this was divine.

Allen glanced over at Luna, who was smiling slightly at him, and paused, setting his fork down and wiping his mouth with his napkin. "Um…sorry, I uh, eat a lot."

"I noticed. How can you eat so much and not feel sick afterwards?"

That...was a genuine concern. He looked down at his empty plate, for the first time regretting his gluttonous ways. "Who said I wouldn't feel sick afterwards?" he replied, now wondering if he hadn't just condemned himself to an afternoon of misery.

"Well it's been 30 minutes; you would have started by now."

"Oh," Allen replied sheepishly. He wasn't sure if she was right, but it eased his worries. It wasn't as if he could just explain away his diet by telling her about the parasitic quality of his Innocence. Besides, he wasn't staying that long, and it would open up a whole can of worms that simply wasn't worth getting into. "Sorry."

"Don't be. You're sick, you need to recover."

Allen stared, and then looked around for an untouched dessert—there was a slice of chocolate cake left and he slid it over to Luna. "Here. Before I eat it all."

She took the cake. "Thank you."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Luna enjoying the cake and Allen enjoying everything else, though much more slowly. He glanced at her; she was a little strange, but made for good company. What she'd been saying before, though—

"So, wait a second, you said this place was magic?" Everything supernatural in the world could be explained as either a hoax or Innocence; Allen knew this.

To which Luna glanced at him thoughtfully and then said, "Are you a Muggle?"

"A what?"

"Oh you are. That's nice. I like meeting Muggleborns, they always have such interesting perspectives on things."

"Wait, what the hell's a Muggle?"

"It's a non-magical person."

"A non-magical—really?"

"Yes," she replied back simply.

Allen wasn't sure which one of them was making the least sense at the moment. "Show me then."

Luna pulled out her wand, flicked it, and out burst several birds, chirping around Allen's head for a minute before flying off to the rafters in the ceiling. Allen followed their flight and then just stared at the ceiling—or lack thereof, mouth hanging open.

"It's enchanted to show the sky," Luna said serenely, looking up at the floating clouds above.

He glanced back at her and then the table, pointed at it and with a small voice asked, "Magic?"

"Magic."

Allen turned around and took a good look at the room he was sitting in. Candles were suspended without supports in the air, wax drippings settling around the base and not falling on people's heads; the enchanted ceiling with its partly cloudy sky; Luna's wand; the sudden appearance of the food…the way his wounds had just disappeared without even a faint scarring. The fact that he'd felt close to death before and he'd woken up more refreshed than he'd felt in over a year. Even his legs were doing much better than they normally might have, given the circumstances… The fact that the girl Katie Bell had levitated in the air…

None of it made sense normally. Even his experience with Innocence and the strangeness of his own life couldn't necessarily support what he was seeing now. But magic…?

Well, on second thought, perhaps he shouldn't have been so surprised. Wasn't his own master a sorcerer in his own right, and wasn't what the Science Division at Headquarters did with Innocence practically magic? Komui and his crazy experiments that didn't involve robots? Allen remembered the zombie incident at the old HQ and shuddered.

"Are you alright?"

Allen turned back to Luna, whose gaze was focused on him, genuine concern in her eyes.

"Luna, where exactly am I?"

"You're at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"And where is that?"

"Scotland."

That matched what Madame Pomfrey had told him yesterday. "Luna, how well hidden is this place? I mean…" How did he explain why he was asking?

She stared openly, her gaze seeming to look straight into him. It made Allen's insides squirm, but he kept eye contact, waiting. After a moment she replied, "There are anti-Muggle wards and other enchantments around the grounds to keep students protected. Why do you ask?"

Allen shrugged, looking away and scrambling for a reason. "I was just curious. I've never heard of any of this. It must be a well-kept secret."

"It is," she replied matter-of-factly. Allen had to wonder if Lavi had ever heard of this place. Maybe. Probably. He wondered if his master had…sadness came over Allen at the thought of Cross, and Luna noticed.

"Do you need to go back to the hospital wing?"

"Uh…" Allen just nodded. Standing up, Luna helped him keep his balance until he got the crutches situated. Turning back and favoring his left side Allen smiled at Luna.

"Thanks for sitting with me."

"Of course. I hope you feel better soon. See you around, Allen."

Allen smiled at her, a real smile. "Thanks, Luna. See you later." Allen turned and hobbled up to the head table, ignoring the stares as he stopped in front of McGonagall. "I'm ready to see Mr. Dumbledore."

She nodded and rose. "Alright then, if you'll follow me."

As they walked, climbing moving staircases, Allen tried not to gape at all the moving pictures again, since he was thinking. Magic…magic might just be his ticket to stopping the Fourteenth. Maybe he could be saved after all.

A/N: Random evil thought: Allen gets hit with an Obliviate, loses all his memories, and Neah takes over gleefully. Game Over. :D

To the guest last chapter with the question about Volume 24 (though I think I know who you are): Pour répondre à votre question, oui, Hoshino est toujours en pause mais le volume 24 du manga vient d'être publié au Japon, et les traductions (au moins aux États-Unis, pas sûr de France, mais je ne pense pas que ce serait aussi différent pour vous les gars) devrait être dans les 6 prochains mois, j'espère. Il ya des scans de figurants d'art sur tumblr, c'est pour ça que je suis excité. :)

One last thing: positive thoughts and prayers to the people in the Philippines affected by typhoon Haiyen. If you're able, donations can be given to the Philippines Red Cross at www. redcross. org .ph / donate, or through your country's branch of the Red Cross. There are also resources through UNICEF, Habitat for Humanity, and others.