Written For:

- Flying Lessons #9: Your couple have handled a lot of things but illnesses will creep up at a time when none of you expect it. Unless, of course, they go out swimming in the middle of winter and don't use a warming charm, then it's expected. For this task, use one of the following illnesses in your story: Mental Illness

Word Count: 1,005

Chapter 9
The Heist: Part One

"Tell me what happened to you."

Barty's voice made Luna jump. She was sitting by the window, staring out at the early morning sunset. It had been her turn to watch the street for any signs of Walburga and Orion, and she hadn't expected Barty to be awake yet. She turned around to face him, smiling at the sight of his sleepy brown eyes and dishevelled, bedridden hair.

"What do you mean?" she asked, coming over to sit on the cushion beside him.

"You said, back at Hogwarts," he started. "You understood me. You understood what happened to me...with the babysitter."

Luna looked down at her fingernails. "I do understand."

"That wasn't all there was to it, you know," he replied. "I didn't tell you everything. I had to go through a lot of humiliation afterwards, too."

"You don't have to tell me, Barty," Luna told him quietly. "Not if it causes you pain."

"No, it's important," Barty said. He took a deep breath before continuing. "After my mother and father found out about what she was doing to me, she was thrown into Azkaban, naturally. But it didn't end all the problems. I started having night terrors and flashbacks, and my father was worried it was going to start affecting my studies."

Luna resisted the urge to roll her eyes at that comment. How could Mr. Crouch have cared more about Barty's educational success than his health?

"So, they took me to St. Mungo's. But this was like, nearly ten years ago. They didn't have Healers who were equipped to deal with invisible problems. It was one of Mother's friends who suggested we see her friend, who was a Muggle-born witch. She worked as some kind of Mind-Healer for Muggles, I don't know what they call them."

Luna nodded solemnly, intrigued to know where Barty was taking this.

"They told me I had..." he seemed in thought for a minute, before continuing. "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Characterised by the flashbacks and stuff. They made me start taking all this strong medication, but Father wanted to have me locked up in a hospital for a while until I was well enough to start studying at home again. But Mother wouldn't let him."

"I'm sorry, Barty," Luna said. "I can't believe your father would even suggest that."

"But that was a long time ago. I don't take the meds anymore, and I do okay." He paused, flashing Luna a brief smile. "I just wanted you to know everything."

Luna reached out and took his hand. "I know you want to know everything about me, Barty..." she started. "But there are things from the future that I just can't tell you, at least not yet. And some things are just...well, they're a little bit hard for me to talk about."

Barty squeezed her hand gently. "You can tell me anything. Whenever you want to."

Luna nodded, and focused her gaze on their entwined hands. "I had an uncle when I was small. Well, he wasn't really an uncle. He was a close friend of my dads," Luna paused, pressing her lips together. "He would look after me while Father was downstairs working on the Quibbler and Mother was upstairs doing her experiments."

Barty clenched his fists. She didn't have to say anything else. "What happened to him?" he growled.

Luna shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't tell my parents, but eventually he drifted apart from my family. After Mother died, Daddy didn't really talk to anyone anymore."

As Luna finished speaking, Barty pulled her onto her back so she was lying beside him, and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "If I ever meet him, I'll kill him."

Luna chuckled. "I doubt that would happen." She nestled her face into his arm. "I suppose we should just be thankful that neither of us were locked up, otherwise we'd never have met."

"I suppose." Barty replied. "Locked up..." he repeated suddenly. He sat up, letting Luna fall back onto the cushion. "Locked up."

"What's the problem?" Luna asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Locked up," Barty said again. "That's it!"

Luna cocked an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, Barty, I don't understand."

"I've got a plan," Barty continued. "To get into Number Twelve."

oOo

Luna wanted to say that Barty's plan was simple, but in reality, it was much, much more than that.

Really, it shouldn't have surprised her when he suggested brewing a Polyjuice Potion, because he had been reknowned for that when he impersonated Mad-Eye Moody at Hogwarts. He wanted to mix a Polyjuice Potion, snag some of Walburga and Orion's hairs, and then move on with Phase Two of the paln.

Phase Two was to enter Gringotts udner the guise of Walburga and Orion, and attempt to gain access to their family vault. Of course, the goblins there would require proof of identity to give them access, and when Luna and Barty failed to provide the correct wands, the alarm would be raised. Walburga and Orion would be alerted that someone had attempted to gain access to their vault, and they would be required to make an impromptu trip to Gringotts.

Because the vault belonged to the pair of them, they would both have to go to the bank. This meant that Number Twelve would be empty, giving Luna and Barty a window to rescue Regulus.

It wasn't a simple plan at all, but they didn't have much other option. Barty insisted that Walburga almost never left the sanctuary of the house, and they would never know if she did. Without a plan, they were going to be stuck in the unoccupied house, staring at the space between Number Eleven and Number Thirteen, praying for an opening.

Luna had a lot of questions, such as how on earth they were going to get some of Walburga and Orion's hair—but she agreed to the plan. They had a month to brew the potion, and they needed something to be optimistic about.