"As many times as I blink I'll think of you tonight."

–Owl City (Vanilla Twilight)

"Do you think Luna's cold where she is?" I asked Gran one night at dinner. It was a week and a half after I had gotten home and since Luna was taken off the train.

"How should I know, Neville?" Gran sighed. She sounded sad and only a little impatient at my questioning. "You've been asking me these sorts of things since you've been home and I just don't know the answers."

"I know," I muttered, picking at my food and resting my cheek on my hand. "I just can't stop thinking about where she might be and what they're doing to her. She could be dead for all I know."

"She's not dead," Gran said briskly.

"You don't know that," I said stubbornly. "You just said you didn't know the answers to my questions."

"What do you want me to tell you, Neville?" Gran asked. "You're right, she might be dead, but I don't think she is. You said they took her to force her father to behave, didn't you? So my guess is that they don't want to kill her, just keep her until Xeno starts doing what they want."

"Why won't he?" I asked furiously.

"You want him to turn against Harry Potter?" Gran asked. "I thought you were friends with the boy."

"I am," I said, looking up and chewing on my lip. I felt extremely conflicted. The idea of Luna's dad turning on Harry, even if the Death Eaters were practically forcing him, made me upset. But it also made me sick that they were keeping Luna somewhere that was most likely very unpleasant. She probably was cold.

Gran seemed to know what I was feeling because she reached over and pushed my plate closer to me. "Eat your vegetables," she said quietly.

"What do you think they're feeding her?" I asked, stabbing a carrot with my fork and then holding it up in front of my face, staring at it intently.

"Probably leftovers from their own meals, if they're feeding the poor girl at all," Gran said, standing up and bringing her dish to the sink.

"I can do that for you," I told her, standing up, but she brushed me off with a wave of her hand.

"Sit and finish eating," she said.

"How can I eat when I know Luna's barely getting fed?" I muttered.

"Well, wasting your dinner when she's not getting any would surely be a shame," Gran said. She glanced at me over her shoulder. "Luna's a strong girl. I'm sure she'll get through it. Who knows, maybe there's a…a—oh, what is that thing she goes looking for? A Crinkle Billed Snorkal?"

"A Crumple Horned Snorkack," I answered almost robotically as I stared at my plate almost unblinkingly, twirling my fork in my hand. A small smile turned the corners of my mouth up, though.

"Yes, maybe one of those is with her wherever she's being kept." Gran smiled a tiny smile. "Either way, I'm sure she's finding all sorts of ways to keep herself occupied."

"I hope they aren't torturing her too bad," I said.

Gran stepped forward, and seeming to know I wasn't going to eat any more, took my plate and brought it to the sink. "Again, I don't know, Neville, but it won't do any good worrying about it."

"I have to worry about it. I can't help it," I said quietly.

Gran finished washing my dish and sat down across from me. "I know what it feels like to be in your position."

"Because of-?"

"Your grandfather, yes. Do you remember what happened before he died? I know you were quite young."

"I was six, almost seven," I answered quietly. "I know he left for a few days. I don't think anyone ever told me where he went, though, but I don't think I ever asked. I was never sure I really wanted to know."

"Your grandfather loved to travel and he loved camping. He would travel all over the place and camp out in a tent, making foods over a campfire and all that. I would never go with him, of course, but I think he liked the alone time anyway. It was peaceful, he always said. He always took lots of pictures, as I'm sure you remember. You must have seen them. Anyway, as he got older I didn't let him go as much. It wasn't safe for an old man to be camping out in the woods. But one day he decided he wanted to go. I can't remember where he insisted on going for the life of me, but nothing I could say would stop him from going. He came back and a few days later, he was sick."

"Nothing we did made him better," I said quietly.

"Nothing," Gran repeated, shaking her head. "We never knew what disease he contracted or how. It could have been anything. It could have been from something he ate, or just a man of his age being out in the woods and the cold. There are multiple ways, but we never knew and we never found a way to cure it. You were so good during that time. You hardly ever left his side."

"He's the reason I can see thestrals," I told her.

She nodded. "I figured you'd be able to see them. Anyway, the point of me telling you this is because whenever your grandfather left, and especially on that one trip, I worried about him. Constantly. He was off on his own and I wouldn't hear from him until he came back. He was always asking me to come with him and I did once, but camping wasn't for me. When he was gone, I was always wondering if he was cold and if he was eating. The same things you're wondering about Luna."

"Luna's been taken by Death Eaters, though," I said. "They could be torturing her. They could have killed her."

"In the end, camping sort of tortured your grandfather as well, and it did end up killing him. It may not have been Death Eaters, but it killed him just the same. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about him and feel guilty about letting him go on that one trip."

"You shouldn't feel guilty," I said. "It's not your fault. He was stubborn. He would have gone no matter what you said."

"True," Gran sighed. "You shouldn't feel guilty about Luna, either."

"I'm not feeling-,"

"You are," Gran insisted. "You feel like you should have stopped them from taking her. And you shouldn't feel that way. You couldn't have stopped it from happening. Those Death Eaters are stubborn. They would have taken her no matter what you said."

I looked up as she practically repeated my own words back at me. "I'm scared. I try not to be, but I am," I whispered. "When I'm around Luna, she manages to make me feel better. Now that she's gone, I feel like I'm going to fall apart. I feel like the D.A. will fall apart." I had told Gran all about what we had been doing at school and she was behind it one hundred percent.

"The D.A. will only fall apart if you let it. Just because Luna's gone doesn't mean you can fall apart. You may want to, but you can't. You'll have to do this without her, but I think you can do it."

"Gran?" I said with a small smile.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I'm glad we had this talk. We never do this."

She almost laughed, but in the end, her mouth went back to the stern straight line it was almost always in. "Don't expect this to happen all the time now."

"No, you're not the kind to have heartfelt discussions," I said, standing up to head for my room.

"I do love you. I only want the best for you, Neville."

I didn't answer right away. Finally, I nodded. "I know."

"Oh, and Neville?"

"Yes?" I asked, turning around.

"You might want to start on that Transfiguration homework you were assigned to do over break. It's not going to get done on its own."

I nodded and headed for my room. Typical Gran. Even when Hogwarts was falling apart, she was still making sure my homework got done.

"So then what?" I asked, switching my position so that I was sitting cross legged instead of with my legs stretched out.

"Well, I handed the little girl a wand and told her to give it a wave. She did, and the ladder leaning against the shelves lit on fire. Her father was standing just a little bit to close and the fire spread to his hair."

"That sounds awfully painful," I said, trying not to giggle.

"Oh, I'm sure it was," Ollivander said, laughing. He coughed before continuing. "Anyway, I put the fire out and handed the girl another wand. I was almost afraid to, but this time it was the right one, thank goodness. Her father looked terribly relieved."

"I would have been too," I said.

"Although, the fire did give him a new uneven and slightly burnt haircut," Ollivander said.

"That's a good way to look at it," I answered with a grin. I pulled the blanket I was using tighter around my shoulders. It was chilly down here in the basement and only getting colder. Ollivander had given me one of his blankets and I had been using that for extra warmth. "Exactly how long have you been here?" I asked.

"About a year and a half now," he answered. "They took me right out of my shop last summer. You must have seen that it was abandoned."

"Yes, I did, but I just didn't know if they brought you straight here or not."

"They did," Ollivander nodded. "You-Know-Who tortured me pretty badly when I got here, for information, like I said. Then he tortured me again a few months ago. He's after a wand."

"A wand? What's wrong with the one he has?" I asked.

"Not good enough," Ollivander sighed. "He wants a better one."

I didn't press the issue. Ollivander clearly didn't like talking about being tortured. He didn't like giving out too much information on what You-Know-Who wanted from him either. It was like he was afraid he would get in trouble for telling anyone else.

"What do you think they'll bring us for dinner tonight?" I asked, changing the subject. It had become sort of a game between the two of us to guess what types of food would be brought each day. I was good at coming up with things for us to do.

"Bread," Ollivander sighed. "It's always bread."

"Maybe apples if we're lucky?" I asked. "And hot chocolate instead of water?"

"Hot chocolate! Now that's wishful thinking," Ollivander asked. "Quite a stretch if you ask me."

"A little bit of wishful thinking never hurt anybody," I shrugged.

"But then isn't it a letdown when it doesn't end up being reality?" Ollivander asked.

"No, not really," I answered. "See, I can sit here and hope they'll bring us real food one day and I know that they won't, but I like at least hoping that they will. It's almost as good as the real thing and it's better than nothing, isn't it? And who knows, maybe the wishful thinking will pay off one day."

"I suppose it could happen, but I highly doubt it," Ollivander said.

"But we never know," I said, "and that's the exciting part. Not knowing what life is going to throw at you. Life tries to trick you, you see."

"I know," Ollivander said. "Life can be quite terrible."

"Of course," I said nodding. "It's very much like a love-hate relationship, don't you agree?"

"Oh yes, very much," Ollivander said with a chuckle. "You know, Luna, I don't know how you do it. You manage to see good opportunities in everything. You make even the terrible things somewhat bearable. That's a very good quality to have."

"Neville always said he liked that about me," I said, nodding.

"You miss him, don't you?"

"Very much," I sighed. "I wish there was a way for him to know I'm thinking about him."

"I'm sure he's thinking about you as well," Ollivander said kindly.

"I expect he's very worried. Out of the two of us, he worries more. Not as much now, though. He's gotten so much better at just being relaxed and thinking about things calmly."

"I expect that's your doing," Ollivander said.

I shrugged. "Maybe, but I also suspect he did it on his own. He's a lot stronger than he thinks. He's so different from what he used to be." A faint smile played across my face. "I love it, though. It's as if he's finally starting to believe in himself. You see, he used to think he was worthless, but he's not. He's so far from worthless, but he just never really believed it."

"Until now?"

"Well, I'm still not sure he fully believes it yet. I usually try to give him lots of moral support, but I'm not there to do that anymore. I hope he and Ginny keep the D.A. going at school." Obviously, there had been lots of time for talking down in the basement and Ollivander knew all about the D.A. now, both the old one and the new one.

"I'm sure they will," Ollivander said.

"I'm not sure the other members are as keen to do it anymore because of all the torture," I said, "and it was hard enough for the three of us to lead it. It'll be so much harder with only two."

"Well, it seems to me that someone is having a little trouble following their own advice," Ollivander said. "Positive thinking, correct?"

I smiled. "You're right. Positive thinking."

"I know it can be hard. You've already done so well in this situation. Most others would have cracked by now. I know I was about to. But nobody can afford to give up right now. Not if we want to win this war."

"You're very right, Mr. Ollivander," I told him, "and I think Neville and Ginny know that."

"So you think they'll keep the D.A. going?"

"Yes, I am fairly certain now," I answered. "They'll keep it going no matter what."

A/N: I had some time to write another chapter! I hope everyone likes it and don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think!