When the clock strikes noon, what no warning whatsoever, Luna's feet are pulled from beneath her like a rug. It's like Side-Along Apparation, only worse. And completely unexpected.

She stumbles, throws up in a bush and hopes blearily, just before she passes out, she doesn't land in her own sick.

Towering pine and ancient oak trees obscure the view of the grey sky. Everything is wet, the bark of the trees, the leaves, the ferns, the moss on the tree stumps. Heavy drops collect in the canopy above and fall, hitting her square in the forehead.

She thinks, maybe I'm dead.

"But why is the afterlife so damp?" she asks to the tree branches swaying far above her.

There is a whisper of noise, not the drone of muggle highways or distant planes, but of Insects crawling over leaves, birds adjusting in their nests.

Nearby, something moves. There's a grunt, and someone shouts, "Merlin's balls!" A moment later, the voice again, "Please forgive me; I didn't realise there was a lady present."

"Merlin's balls, indeed," Luna mutters. The scent of water-logged earth is intoxicating. She draws a deep breath and chances a glance around. Lying on her back, she can make out she's in a clearing.

Oddly calm, her grief from the eve of Percy Weasley's arrival muted like the forest around her, she takes inventory of her limbs.

One foot, two, one arm, two.

One ear, two. One nose...

Experimentally, she makes a snow angel on the forest floor, then she sits up, looks around, turns to face the offensive red-haired man and says in a tiny voice so very unlike herself, "I can't find my wand."

Percy Weasley, a well-manicured and bespectacled man, sits cross-legged on an ant stack, his once-respectable dress robes now covered with debris and soggy.

"Luna Lovegood!" he exclaims. "Where am I? Is this your doing?"

"I don't know. I shouldn't think so."

Percy's voice is full of urgency, "I have come to enforce—"

"This is neither the time nor the place, I should think," Luna muses.

With some interest, Luna watches as Percy clambers onto his feet. He looms authoritatively. "You cannot escape the Law. Your construction violates the Edict of the Forbidden Muggle Arts. It is forbidden and must be demolished before it causes more damage."

There is a pause. He is clearly reflecting on the situation, and then he says seriously, "I do not have my wand either."

Luna's soaked through from lying on the ground. It's a truly miserable day, she thinks, bleak, dank, grey, dull. Even the little row of death caps circling their clearing stand forlorn and sad.

The light is slowly fading, and it's getting colder. Neither of them has a wand. What should she do next?

Seeming to recover himself, Percy continues: "Why am I here? Is it because of your contraption? Do you realise the implications of abducting a ministry official? What are you hoping to accomplish with this?"

Luna cocks her head. "Curious," she says.

Truly agitated now, Percy paces the clearing, "What's curious? You are not making any sense. As I said, there is nothing to be gained by resisting—"

She can't help but stare. The forest covers his robes so completely that he blends in with the background, almost as if he is a part of the forest himself.

"I am only here to enforce the Law! I am a minion. If you hope to influence the outcome by influencing me, you sorely underestimate the determination of the Ministry. I am but one of many minions." There's a wobble in his voice. Rain runs down his cheeks like tears.

"Percy Weasley," she says, her voice softening as she reaches out to touch his arm. "I don't know where we are, but I believe you should speak more quietly, with fewer words."

"Why?"

She puts a finger to her lips. "Listen."

"What–" he pauses for a moment at Luna's insistence. "I don't hear anything."

"Me neither," she whispers. "Let's find somewhere to stay the night."

"What is this tomfoolery? Stay the night!"

"Shh."

The ground is sloping gently, and the underbrush is blocking the view, so it's impossible to see how far down it goes. But straight across what must be a valley, they can see a hillside forested in dark, dark evergreens. They turn their backs on the evergreens and walk up in search of shelter.