I wanted to post this chapter on Luna's birthday (February 13th) but I missed it by a day! So, instead of wishing her a happy birthday, I am wishing you a happy Valentine's Day! Thank you for all supporting both me and this story; I am sending lots of dark chocolate strawberries your way! Please let me know what you think; I'd love to hear from you all! Until next time. -Lillie

Chapter Nine

Hermione's body felt weightless as if she weren't in existence any longer; gone where the tremors of pain and awareness, instead, she was left with a numbness that provided her no comfort. She wanted to feel the pain, to know her body was still responding; the numbness was frightening in that it supplied no knowledge. It was possible her body was broken completely; she could be paralyzed or possibly descending into insanity. However, as she focused her cloudy mind, the frizzy haired witch could feel her arm pulsing, throbbing in unbearable pain from where Bellatrix carved the dreaded word, the word that had labeled her at the beginning of her life at Hogwarts: Mudblood. A tear fell from her brown eyes as she looked at her outstretched arm lying lifeless against the dark floors; her arm was covered in blood, but the text was clear. Bellatrix had scared her, branded her in the most barbaric of ways. Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away.

Though her ears were pulsing, a sharp ringing causing her hearing to dull, Hermione could just detect Ron's muffled voice from beneath her. If she had been in complete control of her body, she may have smiled at his concern or scoffed at his distracting shouting. He shouldn't be screaming her name; he should be forming a plan to help her and escape the Malfoy Manor. Slowly, voices other than Ron began to register in her mind. Hermione could hear Bellatrix speaking to Lucius and Narcissa, her shrill tone grating and horrible. Lucius Malfoy was standing beside his wife and sister-in-law, his body pulsing with anxious energy; Narcissa seemed to be scanning the room for her son, her full mouth set in a grim line. After all, it was a dangerous game she was playing. In viewing Mrs. Malfoy, Hermione's mind began to wonder why the woman stood stoically beside her husband, her face an unreadable mask. Hermione had expected her to be rejoicing at their capture, but, instead, she was positively unreadable. It was unexpected to say the least, though not as unexpected at Draco Malfoy's denial.

When Hermione was captured, tied up and deposited at the Malfoy Manor, no hope had been in her mind; she knew the moment Malfoy laid eyes on them, they were done for. After all, they were bitter enemies. However, to her greatest shock, the Slytherin boy had not given them up though it was quite obvious who they were. His cold silver eyes had been hard until he came closer; they softened ever so slightly trying to convey a message Hermione couldn't understand. He was Malfoy; he wasn't soft, he wasn't their friend, and he certainly wasn't on their side. So why did he refuse to identify them? Hermione was missing a piece of the puzzle, the whole picture not connecting in her mind. Though she was fuzzy brained and exhausted from the extreme torture Bellatrix put her through, Hermione, as diligent as ever, wanted answers; she wanted to know.

The sound of swishing robes caused Hermione's bloodshot, brown eyes to cast up groggily witnessing Bellatrix billowing around dramatically, a menacing glare on her face as she leaned deathly close to the goblin before her. Her lips, cracked and dry, lifted into a snarl as she stared at the revolting creature before her. Dark hair framing her face, Griphook never flinched as the Death Eater's mangled nails drew closer to his face like talons. The goblin's face remained impassive, seemingly bored as if this scene was nothing new to him. Hermione wondered how he kept such composure standing before Bellatrix Lestrange. The dark, frightening woman handed the goblin the sword, her face hard and snarling.

"Well?" she barked after a minute of examining the piece. "Is it the true sword? Or a fake as the filthy Mudblood said," Bellatrix sneered as she casted a disgusted look at Hermione's broken form on the floor.

"No," Griphook said in his gruff voice. "It is a fake."

"Are you certain, goblin? Quite sure?" Bellatrix prodded though her face relaxed slightly in relief.

"Yes."

"Good," Bellatrix said with an attempted smile as she flicked her wand causing another deep gash into the goblin's face. Griphook released a yelp as he fell at her feet, his long fingers clutching his face. "And now, we call the Dark Lord!" she said triumphantly touching her forefinger to her Dark Mark.

Below in the damp basement, Harry Potter's scar erupted in unbearable pain. His knees buckled before slamming on the stone floor below him; a sickening crack echoed throughout the cavernous space. Both Ron and Draco looked at the fallen boy in horror and concern as he clutched his scar, back bent over in pain.

"We haven't got much time," Harry gritted out of his clenched teeth. "He's coming, I know it; I can feel it."

Draco nodded needing no other validation to Potter's words. His cool grey eyes scanned the cellar trying to formulate a plan, his hand tightening around the wand in his hand. Draco felt a certain solution enter his mind as his eyes cast down to see the dark, hawthorn wood clutched within his fingers. The wand he had since childhood, the wand that had done so much harm, caused so much pain would now have to opportunity at redemption. He envied it in a way. Letting a sigh escape his mouth, Draco looked up at Harry, his eyes resolute.

"You'll need a wand, Potter," Draco said extending the dark wooden piece towards the boy in which he was placing all faith; Harry looked apprehensive. "It's done horrible things, Potter; I won't lie. Maybe now, it could be used properly, used for good. I never got the chance."

"You had the chance, Malfoy," Ron fumed beside Harry, his freckled face turning as red as his hair. "You didn't take it, you bloody coward."

"I won't deny that," Draco said with a hard voice. "But I'm trying; I'm taking it now. Potter, take it, take my wand; it's yours now. Put me in a Full Body-Bind curse and have Dobby go upstairs with you and Weasley, grab Granger and get the hell out of here as quickly as you can," he said in a rushed voice.

"Malfoy, Luna was right. Come with us; we can offer you protection," Harry said reaching out to take the offered wand; a shock followed by a tingling warmth ran up his arm as his fingers touched the dark wood. "If you're serious about doing the right thing."

"He'll kill my family, Potter," Draco said harshly dropping his now wandless hand to his side. "Surely you wouldn't wish that fate on anyone," he added, his sharp tongue revealing itself. He regretted the words as they left his mouth, sort of. "Just—Just please keep her safe," he said in a sigh as his hand reached up to pull at his white locks; he didn't need to clarify who he was talking about. They all knew.

"I will," Harry said with a nod, his startling green eyes conveying the upmost sincerity. "I promise you."

Draco said nothing; he merely nodded his head as his throat squeezed with emotion. This was it. He had made his decision. Once they were free, Draco knew he would have dire consequences to answer to. The Cruciatus curse was a given; he wondered what other tortures he would be subjected to. However, as the thought traveled though his mind, Draco knew he would take it. He would take it all, for he knew, in a way, he deserved it. After all the terrible things he had done, all the pain he had caused, Draco knew his time had come to feel all that he had done to others, all that he had done to Luna. It was a punishment it accepted.

"Go," Draco said finally jerking his head towards the door. "Just wave the wand over it, it will open."

"You sure about the curse, Malfoy?" Harry questioned as he readied himself.

"This is your only chance at a free shot; take it while you can," Draco said as the classic Malfoy smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth.

Harry nodded before saying "Petrificus Totalus." As Draco fell to the floor, his limbs locked by his side, eyes staring straight ahead, Ron Weasley shot him a dirty look before following Harry up the dark staircase with Dobby in tow. Once the band of heroes had disappeared into the main floor of the manor, Draco's silver eyes filled with tears as his heart filled with pride and fear of the unknown.

So this is what it feels like, he thought, to do the right thing.

As the thought filtered through his brain, Draco wondered if Luna would be proud of him. He could imagine her serene smile, her bright blue eyes looking at him with pride shining in her clear orbs. The thought alone made his petrified body feel warm against the cold, stone floor. It was worth it; he knew in that moment he had finally made the right decision, his own decision. It felt good. He just hoped his sacrifice wouldn't be in vain.

As Harry, Ron, and Dobby walked up the stairs, their footsteps light in order to remain as silent as possible. They retracted their steps into the shadowed hallway leading into the drawing room where they stopped in order to assess the situation, for pure bravery was not going to get them out of the manor. In a room full of cunning Slytherins, blind heroism was not the route to take. Harry's eyes took in the large room trying to formulate a plan; without looking at his best friend, Harry knew Ron was staring at Hermione's crumbled body, her eyes staring blankly in front of her, forearm bleeding profusely. Whatever plan he was formulating needed to hurry; time was not on their side. Before Harry could look else where, a trembling form came from the hallway on the opposite end of the drawing room. Wormtail, quivering in fright as usual, walked in hesitantly refusing to cast his eyes on Bellatrix Lestrange out of fear of receiving a curse. As Wormtail shuffled in, Bellatrix's triumphant smile dwindled slightly. She crossed her arms across her chest, a huff of annoyance threatened to escape her lips.

"Wormtail, have you accompanied the Dark Lord?" she fearsome Death Eater asked with a cold glare.

"No—No, he, the Dark Lord, sent me to—to see if the matter was of upmost im—importance," the quivering man said, his face hiding slightly behind his filthy fingernails.

"Well, of course it is!" Bellatrix shouted causing him to flinch. "I would not disturb his precious time; I would never," she said in a devoted tone. "He must come at once! We have Potter!"

"Po—Potter?" Wormtail squeaked. "Harry Potter?"

"Yes, you fool!" Bellatrix barked. "No other Potters remain; you made sure of that years ago, didn't you, Wormtail?"

At the mention of his parents' death, Harry felt his cheeks go hot; his ears flamed red as an angry snort left his nose. Though nearly silent, Narcissa's trained ears detected the noise from the shadowed hallway. Her pale blue eyes connected with Harry's immediately narrowing slightly. Though she gave no other signs of finding him there, Harry knew she had seen him. However, she did not say a word; instead she turned to Wormtail with a haughty expression on her smooth face.

"Wormtail, go relieve Draco from his duties in the basement. I do believe he's done your job for long enough now," Narcissa said with a sniff as she raised her nose turning away from the cowering man. Wormtail gave a shaky bow before backing out of the room mumbling quietly to himself.

"He will be coming soon," Bellatrix said with a pleased smile placed back onto her face; the expression looked foreign to Harry as if such a smile was impossible for such a horrid woman to form. "We can dispose of this Mudblood; the Dark Lord will have no use for her. Greyback, you were the captor. Perhaps you'd enjoy a little snack?"

"No!" Ron yelled bursting into the room with wild abandon; with no wand in hand, he didn't stand a chance.

Harry quickly followed behind him casting curses around the room hopeful that his spells were reaching their targets. After a Stupefy left the dark hawthorn wand, a loud thumb reverberated though the room; Harry hoped it had been Greyback or Lucius Malfoy. Looking at Bellatrix directly, Harry fired an Expelliarmus from Malfoy's wand causing the menacing Death Eater's wand to fly into the air. With his seeker reflexes, Harry caught it easily before tossing it to Ron who fumbled but managed to capture the mangled wood in his hand. A jet of light flew past Harry's head as a loud growl erupted from Greyback. Harry turned just in time to see Narcissa Malfoy fire a curse; it narrowly missed him though her aim was perfectly executed. As another stream of light erupted from Greyback's wand, Harry threw himself to the floor, rolling behind a plush green sofa to avoid the curses.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

With the Full Body-Bind curse still in effect, Draco was helpless in the basement; he could hear the commotion above, but was useless in helping. He gritted his teeth together in frustration. He didn't like feeling this way; he wanted to help, to be in the action, to do good. Instead, he was lying on the floor with the freezing water seeping into his silk robes. He should have told Potter to curse him with something else, something that would leave him unconscious rather than locked within his own mind. He wanted to yell, but his mouth could not move. It was the worst torture. A scampering noise sounded on the stairs, Draco ached to turn his head in order to view the new presence, but he could not. Despite not being able to see, Draco knew it was Wormtail; his frightened muttering gave him away. The rodent of a man walked over to Draco, his eyes wide and fearful.

"Finite Incantatem," Wormtail stuttered his voice shaking at he pointed his wand at Draco.

As soon as the curse was lifted, Draco jumped up to his full height staring menacingly at the quivering man before him. For a brief moment, Draco felt sympathy and a slight understanding for the man. Like Draco, Wormtail was scared; he was cowardly, always looking to please others in order to fit in. Looking at Peter Pettigrew as he shook before him, Draco knew he no longer wanted to be a coward; he didn't want to be anything like the person before him. He was going to do whatever it took to keep the people he cared for safe; he was going to do the right thing.

"Give me your wand, Wormtail," Draco commanded with his arm outstretched.

"Wh—what? I need it for—," the man stammered but Draco cut him off quickly.

"He saved your life before, Wormtail," Draco whispered. "Don't you owe him? Give me your wand, and I'll do what you should have done years ago."

Draco saw the hesitance in his watery eyes; however, before Wormtail could hand over his wand or utter another syllable, the silver hand closed around his neck. Wormtail's face turned red, a chocking sound coming from his throat as the hand continued to squeeze harder. Draco backed away, horrified at the sight before him. Looking down, he saw the chestnut wand lying on the ground. He quickly picked it up, aiming it at Wormtail.

"Relashio!" said Draco, pointing the crooked wand at the silver hand; however, nothing happened. Wormtail dropped to his knees, his eyes rolling upward on his purple face. With a final gasp and twitch, Wormtail fell forward. He was still, dead.

For a split second, Draco stared at the lifeless body before him; his breathing would not return though his mouth hung open in shock. However, he knew he didn't have time to stare at the horrific sight before him. Forcing air back into his lungs, Draco's grip on the wand tightened as he walked up the staircase with wobbling legs. Wormtail was dead, killed by his own hand. In the end, Wormtail was, once again, a traitor; this time he betrayed the Dark Lord. A shudder passed though Draco as he thought about Peter Pettigrew's treacherous ways and what they had lead to. Nothing, they had lead to nothing but death. Draco's veins filled with ice at the idea of his fate being the same. As he strolled confidently into the drawing room, Draco assessed the scene before him. Bellatrix had a firm hold on Granger, a short silver knife against the muggle-born's neck. Though her eyes were slightly opened, Granger seemed to be unconscious.

"Drop your wands," Bellatrix whispered in a deadly tone. "Drop them, or we'll see just how filthy her blood is."

Neither Harry nor Ron made a move to drop the wands. Harry's hand tightened around Draco's hawthorn piece as he stood from behind the sofa straightening into his full height.

"I said drop them!" she screeched pressing the blade more firmly against Hermione's neck; small droplets of scarlet appeared.

"Alright!" Harry submitted as he dropped Draco's wand to the ground beside his feet. Ron did the same with Bellatrix's. Both Gryffindor boys raised their hands to shoulder height in surrender. The Death Eater grinned madly though never making the effort to remove the knife from Granger's neck. Seeing Narcissa's attention change, Bellatrix turned to the hallway seeing Draco standing there quietly.

"Draco? Where have you been? Where is Wormtail?"

"Potter and Weasley both attacked me, stealing my wand, and cursed me with a Full Body-Bind," Draco spat looking at Harry with menacing, cloudy grey eyes. "Wormtail is dead; strangled by his own hand for his traitorous ways. He released me from the curse and then attempted to come back up in order to help Potter. The filthy rat never got past the first step; the hand knew of his intentions," Draco delivered with a cool smirk.

"I'm not surprised," Bellatrix Lestrange said with a haughty tone as she shook her wild hair away from her face. "Well, then Draco, pick the wands up at once. The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death draws closer!"

Harry knew she was right; his scar felt as if it had been lit on fire. He could feel Voldemort drawing closer to the manor; once he arrived, Harry could see no way out. He would die at Malfoy Manor if they did not escape soon. Like Harry, Narcissa knew that once Voldemort laid eyes on Potter, it was over; she needed them out of her house as soon as possible. In order for her family to be safe, the Dark Lord needed to be defeated, and Harry Potter had to be alive to do so. Looking back into the shadowed hallway, Narcissa's icy blue eyes found her former house elf's large, ball-like eyes. She looked at Dobby pointedly before casting her eyes towards the large, grand chandelier suspended above the drawing room. Dobby understood at once, and with a snap of his fingers, he was gone.

"Now," Bellatrix huffed softly as Draco retrieved the last wand walking over to stand beside his mother. "Cissy, I think we out to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am certain the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have achieved tonight. After all, he—"

But as Bellatrix spoke, a sharp grinding noise sounded from above. They all looked upward just as the crystal chandelier began to shake. Narcissa grasped Draco's arm firmly prepared to pull him from harm's way as soon as it was necessary. With a creak and an ominous jiggling, the massive chandelier began descending toward the ground, Bellatrix directly in the middle of its path. Dropping Hermione unceremoniously, the crazed Death Eater threw herself aside with a shrill scream. The chandelier crashed to the floor in an explosion of crystal and metal landing on top of a barely conscious Hermione and the goblin, who still clutched the sword of Gryffindor as if his life depended on it. Twinkling shards of crystal flew around the room; Draco covered his eyes after a few fragments grazed his face.

Ron Weasley ran forward pulling Hermione from the wreckage as Harry leaped over an armchair in order to grab the wands from Draco's grasp. Despite the blood falling into his eyes from the fresh cut on his brow, Draco opened his grey eyes to stare at Harry attempting to convey everything he couldn't say aloud. After pretending to fight over the wands, Draco released his grip on the bundle. Harry turned away after a quick discreet nod to Malfoy and aimed the wands at Greyback hitting him with a Stupefy erupting from all three wands. Hit by the force of a triple spell, the werewolf was lifted of his feet, flying up towards the ceiling before smashing to the ground with a sickening crack. Narcissa pulled Draco further back away from harm's way as Bellatrix sprang to her feet, her face a murderous red, dark hair flying as she brandished the silver knife; however, Narcissa had directed her wand at the doorway where the house elf stood proudly.

"Dobby!" Narcissa Malfoy screamed waving her wand at the elf to gather his attention, Bellatrix attention turned to see what had her sister so upset. "You! You dropped the chandelier? You could have killed me!"

"Dobby never meant to kill! Dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure! You must not hurt Harry Potter," he squeaked. "Or friends!"

"Kill him, Cissy!" shrieked Bellatrix, but, with another loud crack, Narcissa's wand flew into the air landing on the other side of the room. "You dirty little monkey! How dare you take a witches wand, how dare you defy your masters?"

"Dobby has no master!" the house elf said proudly lifting his chin, his bat-like ears twitching. "Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and friends!"

Harry's scar had steadily grown more painful; it was nearly blinding. He knew they had to leave now or they would never have another chance. He looked at Draco, as blood fell down his pale face dying his fair eyebrows red; Harry cocked his head in a final offer to join. Draco's mouth set in a grim line; his head moved to the side once. He couldn't leave. He wouldn't allow his mother and father to take the sole blame for this fiasco; it was his burden to bear along with them. He owed his mother that much. Harry, though not surprised, nodded once in return before looking to Ron who was silently waiting for the signal. His arms were holding Hermione upright, her body slumped against his.

"Ron! Catch! Go!" Harry yelled, throwing one of the three wands to Ron as he bent down to tug Griphook out from beneath the shattered chandelier. He threw the groaning goblin along with the sword he was still gripping tightly onto his shoulder before gripping Dobby's hand tightly to Disapparate. The familiar tug on his naval pulled as they Disapparated. As his vision swirled in the darkness, Harry caught one last view of Draco and Narcissa, their pale white hair gleaming as the mother clutched her son tightly in fear of what was coming. Harry saw a streak of Ron's read hair, and a blur of flying silver, as Bellatrix's knife flew across the room at the place where he was vanishing.

Bill and Fleur's ... Shell Cottage ... Bill and Fleur's, Harry repeated in his mind as the darkness swirled all around them. The pain in his forehead was piercing, sharp and blinding. The weight of the goblin weighed down his shoulders, the blade of Gryffindor's sword pressing against his back. Harry felt Dobby's hand jerk in his; he wondered if the elf was trying to pull them in the right direction. Harry gave the elf's fingers a squeeze indicating that it was okay for him to take the lead. Dobby did not return the gesture.

Before Harry could contemplate further, they hit solid earth and smelled the refreshing salty air. Harry fell to his knees, relinquishing Dobby's hand as he attempted to lower Griphook to the ground gently. Harry asked if he was all right, but the goblin merely whimpered. Harry squinted through the darkness. A cottage was a short way away under the twinkling sky.

"Dobby, is this Shell Cottage?" he whispered, his fingers tightening around the wands he had brought with him from the Malfoy's. He prepared himself for a fight if necessary. "Are we at the right place, Dobby? Dobby?"

Harry looked around; the little elf stood feet from him swaying slightly. The stars reflected in his wide, shining eyes, glassy and glimmering. Harry followed Dobby's eyes as they looked down to see the protruding silver hilt of the knife burring in the elf's heaving chest.

"Dobby! No—help!" Harry bellowed no longer caring if they were in the right place, whether they were surrounded by friends or foes. "Help! Please, somebody!"

Harry was transfixed on the deep scarlet stain spreading across Dobby's front, the light cloth he wore dripping. Dobby's wiry arms reached forward, searching for Harry with pleading eyes. Harry caught his thin frame laying him down on the cool, sandy grass.

"Dobby, please, no. Don't die, don't die—"

Dobby's large, watery eyes found Harry's as his lips trembled with the strenuous effort it took to form words.

"Harry... Potter..." he attempted, his squeaky voice merely a whisper; a tiny shudder erupted his body before the elf became terribly still. His eyes, still wide and looking at the sky, were unseeing, merely reflecting what they no longer saw.

Harry remained there; for how long, he didn't know. He couldn't move; his limbs were frozen in shock, in grief, in anger. Dobby was gone, and it was his fault. Harry felt the guilt of it all rest upon his shoulders making him sink deeper into the grass. Tears flowed freely from his emerald eyes as he brokenly repeated Dobby's name for deaf ears. His voice broke off in racking sobs. It was too much; it was all too much.

Rising from the place on the sand where she had been basking in the unfiltered moonlight and fresh air, Luna heard Harry's pleas for help. She quickly jumped up and ran to where he was sobbing over the fallen elf. Luna's heart shattered for Harry, and she sunk to her knees next to him wrapping her long, willowy arms around him as she pulled him closer. He leaned into her, his hands covering his face. Slowly, Dean came forward along with Bill and Fleur to surround Harry as he mourned his friend. Remembering where he was, Harry lifted his head, cheeks red and splotchy from his cries.

"Hermione?" he said suddenly to no one in particular. "Where is she?"

"Ron's taken her inside," Bill said looking uncomfortable. "She'll be okay."

Harry nodded before looking back down at Dobby; he felt a fresh wave of tears fill his eyes as he reached down to pull the glimmering knife from Dobby's frail body. Shrugging off his jacket, Harry draped it over Dobby's body as if tucking him into bed. Harry felt Luna's arm encase him once more; he didn't respond. He could hear them all taking around him, but he didn't have the energy to feign interest. He remained silent, staring at the elf who had saved his life in sacrificing his own. He blinked his eyes as a pale hand reached towards Dobby's face. Luna's delicate fingers caressed his ashen cheek before closing both of his eyelids reverently one at a time. She sat back down leaning her head onto Harry's shoulder.

"There," she sighed. "Now he looks as if he's only sleeping. It's quite peaceful, really."

Harry didn't say anything; he couldn't form words. One by one, the others left to go back inside until only Luna and Harry remained. Her head still leaning on his shoulder, Luna let out a small sigh and she reached over and grasped Harry's hand in her own. She didn't talk, for she knew there was nothing that could be said to ease Harry's grief; she knew that firsthand. Instead, she sat there with him until he was ready to move.

"I want to do it properly," Harry said suddenly causing Luna to lift her head and look at him curiously. "Put him to rest, I mean. No magic."

"I'm sure Bill and Fleur have a spade," Luna said standing. "Shall I fetch it for you? I wouldn't want Dobby to be alone," she added wistfully.

Harry nodded once again unable to form words. A few minutes later, Luna returned with the garden tool; she handed it to Harry without words knowing he needed to do it himself. She stood patiently as he tilled the earth, moving it to the side so that Dobby would have a proper burial. After a few minutes, her legs grew tired, and she sat beside Dobby's body, her fingers reaching out to gently caress his cool cheeks, his floppy ears. Luna felt the tears swell in his misty blue eyes; she never had the chance to thank him for rescuing her.

The only indication of how long they stayed outside was the rising sun. Luna, despite her sadness, lifted her shin when the fresh morning rays of light showed in the sky. It had been far too long since she felt the sun on her skin. Despite the sun's appearance, the temperature remained terribly cool, the ocean air full of moisture that chilled her skin to the bone. She felt a coat being draped across her shoulders; looking up, Dean Thomas grinned down at her with a sad smile. Ron Weasley was beside him, Hermione wrapped in his arms. Bill and Fleur joined shortly after. Harry looked up, face covered in dirt, as all of his friends stood beside the freshly dug grave. Silently, Harry lifted Dobby and placed him delicately inside.

"I think we ought to say something," Luna suggested gently; her misty eyes hopeful. "I'll go first, shall i?"

No one protested but rather looked at her expectantly as she moved closer to kneel beside Dobby's grave.

"Thank you so much, Dobby, for rescuing me from that cellar. It's so unfair that you had to die, when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now," she ended with a tear falling down her cheek. She slowly stood up on wobbling knees; Harry reached out to stable her as she looked at Ron expectantly,

"Yeah... Thanks, Dobby," Ron said with a thick voice; he looked to Dean.

"Thanks," Dean whispered.

"Good bye, Dobby," Harry said. It was all he could add; Luna had said all that needed to be said. With a raise of his wand, he lifted the dirt allowing it to settle over Dobby in a rounded mound. "Do you all mind if I stay here for a moment."

No one did, and slowly, everyone retreated back into the cottage. Once again, Luna was the last to leave, but not before squeezing Harry's hand once more and placing a kiss to his cheek. Pulling the coat tighter around her waif figure, Luna walked back to the cottage sighing in relief as the warmth of the fire surrounded her. She walked over to the kitchen weakly, pulling herself to sit upon a barstool so that she could watch Fleur move around the kitchen in a graceful dance. With her back turned, Fleur reminded Luna of Narcissa Malfoy, with her silvery blonde hair and poised movements. Tears filled Luna's eyes as her mind drifted to Draco, for she wished he had come with them, gotten away from Voldemort, away from all the evil that plagued his life. She sniffed loudly as the tears fell freely down her sunken cheeks.

"Oh darling, eet will all be better soon. You are safe now," Fleur comforted Luna wrapping an arm around the emaciated girl. "'Ow about I fix you a bowl of zey soup I made, oui?"

Luna nodded silently; her mouth watered at the smell of the soup that wafted from the large pot on the stove. As it was placed before her, Luna looked up at Fleur, the young woman's shining blue eyes expectant and hopeful as she peered down at the bruised, tortured girl before her.

"Oh, I forget to say. Zere is no meat in zey soup; I remembered from zey wedding," Fleur smiled proudly; Luna returned it immediately as she took a hesitant, miniscule bite of the soup. "An' when you are done, I can heal zey cuts and bruises for you."

"I'd love that, Fleur," Luna nodded eagerly, the one bite of soup felt as if it were sloshing about in her stomach. She hate a few more bites before her stomach began to protest; she supposed she should cease eating incase her body rejected its first form of nutrition in months. She looked up at Fleur who had been watching her silently. "I'm finished; I'll just wash it quickly."

"Nonsense," Fleur said with a wave of her hand before picking up Luna's bowl frowning as she looked at the large amount that remained; however, she didn't say anything. After she washed the bowl, she turned to Luna as she pulled her wand out of the white apron tied around her thin waist. "Alright, let's fix you up. Eez your nose broken?"

"I believe so, yes," Luna nodded remembering the blow that caused it. "It cracked rather loudly."

"'Ow could zey do zis to children," Fleur said before casting an Episky. Luna's nose felt white hot before cooling as it healed into place. "I will never understand."

Luna didn't say anything in response, for she didn't know how to tell Fleur that she wasn't the only one harmed during the attack. After a few minutes and a few potions later, Luna was physically healed from any lacerations, bruises, and breaks. However, after telling Fleur of the internal bleeding she suffered at once point during her captivity, the French woman insisted Luna drink a potion that smelled like old coins; it tasted like them too. Once Fleur was finished, Luna scooped two ladles of soup into a bowl, wrapped herself back into the jacket, grabbed a blanket, and walked outside to where Harry was still sitting.

Luna sat beside him, depositing the blanket around his shoulders and the bowl of steaming soup into his hands. They sat there for a while in silence, neither wanting to break the quiet. However, Harry eventually caved.

"Thank you for the soup," Harry said though he had yet to take a bite.

"Thank you for rescuing me," Luna responded as she continued to look out into the distance; she loved listening to the waves crash against the rocks as she felt the morning sun against her face.

"Your face looks better," Harry noted, his cheeks turned red. "I mean, it's healed."

"Yes, Fleur is wonderful. She could have a future as a mediwitch," Luna nodded happy that her eyes were no longer swollen. The silence stretched on.

"He was very brave," Harry said suddenly.

"Yes, Dobby was incredibly valiant," Luna agreed.

"No, well, yes, but I meant Draco," Harry clarified.

"Oh?"

"He gave me his wand, actually, so that Ron and I would have something to protect ourselves with. He told me to curse him with a Full Body-Bind, and he allowed us to escape upstairs. He gave me three wands," Harry said pulling the dark hawthorn wand out of his pocket. "Here, you can hold onto it for a little while," he said placing it against her long, thin fingers.

Luna trailed her fingers against the dark wood adoringly, a small smile formed on her lips. Bowing her head, Luna brought the wand up to her cradling it against her chest. She released a shaky sigh.

"He wouldn't come," Luna said with certainty. "I hoped he would change his mind. I really did, Harry," she whispered in a choked voice.

Harry watched Luna for a moment. Her eyes were filled with so much emotion he felt as if he were invading a personal moment of sentimentality. He awkwardly reached over, his arm draping around her frail shoulders. He could feel the tremors racking her body as she cried softly. He didn't know if she was crying for Malfoy, for Dobby, for herself, or a combination of the three. He wanted to say something to comfort her, something to make her feel better, but he didn't know what to do. He hated seeing her in such a state; Luna was supposed to be smiling, dancing in a field of wildflowers with petals in her long blonde hair. She wasn't meant for such a harsh world; she was too pure, too good for it all.

"He asked me to watch over you," Harry said finally. Luna lifted her head, her silvery blue eyes bloodshot and more intense than ever. "He cares about you very much."

"I know," Luna said simply. She cared for Draco very much too. Looking at Harry, she could tell he was with holding all the questions he wanted to ask. "I can see the questions in your eyes, Harry. They're quite telling, you know?"

"Sorry, Luna. It's just that, well, he's Malfoy. Are you sure you want to be in a relationship with him? He may have changed, but he's still volatile."

"Oh, Harry. Draco and I aren't in a relationship. We just have an understanding for each other. It's lovely, really," she sighed placing her cool cheek against the hawthorn wand; warmth flooded her skin.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, Luna sat with Harry as she held the wand close to her heart. Pride swelled within her chest at Harry's recounting of Draco's bravery; she knew he was capable of such greatness. Her faith in him had never waivered. As she sat there, his wand clutched against her chest, Luna wondered if, in another lifetime, she and Draco could have fallen together in a different way, if in this world, he would be clutched against her instead of his sacrificed wand. Maybe in another life they would be together; after all, anything was possible. With her large blue eyes still watching the ocean waves crash onto the rocky shore, Luna sent a silent thanks to Draco for all that he had done for her; she knew she would see him again, and very soon at that. She had a feeling; however, she feared what would happen once they saw each other again. She feared he would lose hope in her absence; she pleaded for him to hold on if just for a bit longer. Placing her lips against the wand, Luna closed her eyes allowing the ocean waves to mask her sobs.