The Cost of Victory - Luna's POV
Luna's footsteps echoed softly through the dark corridors of Hogwarts. The castle was eerily quiet, the oppressive weight of danger pressing in on all sides. The portraits seemed to whisper in hushed voices as she passed, their eyes following her with a mixture of curiosity and dread.
Beside her, Seamus Finnigan and Susan Bones moved silently, their expressions grim. They knew what was at stake. Neville and Hannah had gone ahead to secure the diadem, but the silence over the enchanted galleons was stretching too long. Something was wrong.
"Do you think they're okay?" Susan whispered, glancing over at Luna, worry etched into her face.
Luna's eyes, wide and shimmering in the dim light, stared straight ahead. "We'll find them," she murmured softly, but there was a hardness in her voice, an undercurrent of resolve. "And we'll finish what we came here to do."
Seamus tightened his grip on his wand. "They're probably just waiting for us to catch up, right? Neville's not stupid—he wouldn't take on a fight he couldn't handle."
Luna didn't respond. She had a feeling—an uneasy, fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach—that things were worse than they imagined. But she didn't say anything. Instead, she picked up her pace, leading them deeper into the castle's labyrinthine halls.
The closer they got to the Chamber of Secrets entrance, the colder it seemed to become. A chill settled in Luna's bones, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She could feel something dark lingering in the air, something sinister.
And then, just as they rounded a corner—
"Luna!" a voice hissed.
She spun around, wand raised, only to see Michael Corner stepping out of the shadows. His face was pale, his eyes wide with fear.
"Michael?" Seamus said, relief and confusion flooding his voice. "What are you—?"
"There's no time," Michael gasped, grabbing Luna's arm. "I tried to find you earlier, but something's happened. Neville and Hannah—Rodolphus Lestrange was here, and… and—"
Luna's heart clenched painfully. "Where are they?" she demanded, her voice steady, though her hands shook.
"In the dungeons," Michael said quickly. "I felt something—something dark. I went to check, but—" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "They're not alone. Lestrange is here. And the Carrows."
Susan swore under her breath, her face paling. "But… but why? Why would they—"
"The diadem," Seamus said grimly. "They must've known what we were after."
Luna didn't wait. Without another word, she turned and sprinted down the hall, her robes billowing behind her. The others followed close behind, their expressions set with fierce determination.
They burst into the chamber, the sight that met their eyes making them freeze.
There were pieces of meat dangling from the ceiling around Hannah's body on the ground. Around the body there were mangled limbs and gallons of blood seeping into the corpses hair. Luna couldn't help but stare at the severed arms still hanging from ropes on the ceiling a torso and head that was almost unidentifiable still attached. Unfortunately Luna knew exactly whose head it was. Neville's.
Hannah lay crumpled on the cold, stone floor, their body still and lifeless. Blood pooled around them, dark and viscous in the faint glow of the runes that lined the walls. Luna's breath hitched, her heart breaking at the sight of her friend—brave, stubborn Neville— motionless next to the girl who'd fought by his side.
But there was no time to mourn. Standing over them, triumphant smiles stretching their cruel faces, were Rodolphus Lestrange and the Carrow siblings—Amycus and Alecto. The air crackled with dark magic, the scent of blood and death thick and suffocating.
"Well, well," Rodolphus purred, his wand tracing lazy patterns in the air. "More little heroes, come to die for a lost cause."
Seamus stepped forward, his wand leveled at Rodolphus' chest. "Get away from them," he snarled, his voice trembling with rage.
The Carrows laughed, a harsh, grating sound that set Luna's teeth on edge.
"And what, you think you can make us?" Amycus sneered, his piggy eyes glinting maliciously. "You're out of your depth, little boy."
But Luna wasn't looking at them. Her gaze was fixed on the pedestal behind them, where the diadem rested, its delicate silver gleaming softly in the faint light. That was what they were here for. That was what Neville had died for.
She raised her wand, her expression calm and unflinching.
"Stupefy!" she cried.
The spell shot forward, but Rodolphus deflected it with a casual flick of his wrist, his smile widening.
"Impressive," he drawled, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer. "But not good enough."
And then the chamber erupted into chaos.
Seamus and Susan sprang into action, firing curses and hexes at the Carrows. Michael threw up a shield charm, blocking a vicious curse from Alecto. Luna moved with a grace and precision that belied her small frame, her wand flashing as she dueled Rodolphus, her heart pounding.
"Expelliarmus!" she cried, aiming for his wand hand
Rodolphus twisted, dodging the spell with a snarl. "You're going to pay for this, you filthy little—"
But Luna didn't let him finish. She spun on her heel, her wand slashing through the air. "Confringo!"
The blasting curse struck the ground at Rodolphus's feet, sending him stumbling back. Seamus seized the opportunity, hurling a stunning spell at Amycus, who fell with a surprised yelp. Susan and Michael took down Alecto together, their spells striking her in quick succession.
Rodolphus roared with fury, his wand slashing wildly. But Luna stood her ground, her eyes blazing.
"You'll regret this," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll kill you. I'll—"
"Petrificus Totalus!" Michael shouted.
The full body-bind curse hit Rodolphus square in the chest, freezing him in place. He toppled over, his face contorted with rage.
They stunned him and the siblings.
The chamber fell silent.
Panting, Luna lowered her wand, her gaze flickering to Neville and Hannah. Pain twisted in her chest, but she forced herself to look away. There would be time to grieve later. Right now, they had a job to finish.
She stepped forward, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for the diadem. It was cold to the touch, its surface smooth and unblemished. As she lifted it from the pedestal, a strange, unsettling hum seemed to fill the air.
"Is… is that it?" Seamus asked hoarsely, staring at the diadem with wide eyes.
Luna nodded slowly. "Yes," she whispered. "This is it."
They gathered around Neville and Hannah's bodies, their expressions solemn. Luna's heart ached, a hollow, aching pain that threatened to swallow her whole.
"We have to get them out of here," Susan said softly, her voice thick with unshed tears.
"We have to find the rest of the members looking for the diadem in other parts of the castle and then apparate to Muriel's house," Luna murmured. "We have to get this back to the others."
With gentle, trembling hands, they lifted Neville and Hannah, conjuring stretchers to bear them through the dark, winding halls of Hogwarts. The castle seemed to mourn with them, the shadows deeper, the silence heavier.
By the time they emerged into the cool night air, dawn was breaking over the horizon, casting a pale, ghostly light over the grounds. They moved quickly, silently, making their way to the safehouse, their hearts heavy with grief and victory.
They had the diadem.
But at what cost?
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Luna, Seamus, Susan, and Michael staggered into Muriel's house just as dawn began to paint the sky in muted shades of gray. The old safehouse seemed to stand even more forlorn than usual, the oppressive atmosphere thick with tension and grief. As they stepped through the doorway, the soft creak of the wooden floors seemed to echo louder than it should have.
Luna's arms ached, her fingers still trembling from holding Neville's stretcher steady. The others were similarly haggard, their faces pale and haunted. The sight of Neville and Hannah's bodies, lifeless and still, seemed to fill the room, casting a dark shadow over everyone present.
"Merlin's beard," whispered Professor McGonagall, her voice cracking as she hurried forward. Her stern face crumpled at the sight of the students she'd once taught and guided lying dead before her. She reached out a shaking hand, brushing a stray lock of hair from Neville's forehead. "Oh, my dear boy…"
Murmurs of shock and grief spread through the gathered Order members and D.A. students. Ginny gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, eyes wide and horrified. Beside her, George went rigid, his face a mask of pain and rage.
But before anyone could fully react, there was a deafening crack! of Apparition.
Everyone jumped, wands raised, as three figures materialized just inside the entryway—Harry, Hermione, and Theo, each of them looking utterly shattered. Harry's arm was slung around Hermione, supporting her weight as she swayed, pale and trembling. Theo looked grim, his face a mask of exhaustion.
But it was the fourth figure that made the room fall silent.
Ron's body.
Limp and lifeless, blood soaking his robes and staining his freckled skin, he hung between Harry and Theo. The sight of him made the air leave Luna's lungs in a painful rush. Every eye in the room turned to stare, disbelief and horror etched into their faces.
"Ron…?" Ginny's voice was small and broken, barely more than a whisper.
And then Molly Weasley screamed.
"NO!" The sound tore through the air, raw and ragged, filled with more pain than anyone could bear. Mrs. Weasley stumbled forward, her face twisted with anguish, tears streaming down her cheeks. "No, no, no! Not my boy—please, not my Ron—!"
She collapsed beside him, her hands clutching at his lifeless form, shaking him as if that could somehow bring him back. "Ron, wake up—please—wake up!" Her sobs were gut-wrenching, the sound of a mother's heart shattering into a million pieces.
Arthur Weasley moved forward slowly, his face ashen, his eyes wide and unseeing. He sank to his knees beside his wife, his shoulders shaking. "Oh, Merlin, Ron… my son…"
The rest of the room seemed to blur around them, the cries of shock and grief mingling with Mrs. Weasley's sobs. Fred and George stood frozen, staring at their brother's body in stunned silence, their faces utterly devoid of color. It was as if they couldn't comprehend what they were seeing—couldn't believe that their brother, the one who'd always been there, always stood beside them, was gone.
"Ronnie," George whispered, his voice breaking. He took a step forward, then another, before crumpling to his knees beside his parents, his face buried in his hands. "Ronnie…"
Fred didn't move. He just stood there, his eyes wide and blank, his mouth opening and closing as if trying to form words that wouldn't come.
Hermione let out a choked sob, pulling away from Harry and stumbling toward Mrs. Weasley. "M-Mrs. Weasley, I'm—I'm so sorry, I tried, I—" But her words were lost as she fell to her knees, clutching at Ron's hand, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Ginny staggered backward, her eyes wild. "No… no, this isn't happening, this isn't real—" She turned desperately to Harry, as if begging him to deny it, to make it not true. But Harry just shook his head walking over to embrace her, his own face pale and drawn, his eyes red-rimmed and hollow.
"We—we got the cup," he said quietly, his voice raw and broken. He reached into his robes and pulled out the Hufflepuff Cup, its golden surface gleaming faintly in the dim light. "But… but Ron… he…"
"We couldn't save him," Theo finished softly, his voice hoarse. He looked down at Ron's still face, guilt and grief warring in his expression. "We were ambushed by Death Eaters. Bellatrix—she—he… protected us." His voice cracked, and he fell silent, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
The cup, the prize they had fought so hard to obtain, seemed like nothing more than a mockery in the face of what they had lost.
"No," Molly whispered, shaking her head violently. "No, he—he can't be gone, he can't—" She clutched Ron's body to her chest, rocking back and forth as if trying to soothe him, her sobs growing softer, more desperate. "My baby… my baby boy…"
Luna felt tears pricking at her own eyes. She glanced at the diadem in her hands, its cold weight heavy with the price they had paid. Neville and Hannah had given everything to retrieve it. And now Ron… The thought of it all was suffocating, a crushing weight on her chest.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Ginny choked out, sinking to the floor beside her mother. "We—we were supposed to win… to survive…"
Harry took a deep, shuddering breath, his hand clenched tightly around the cup. "We—wewillwin," he said fiercely, his voice trembling with the effort. "This—this is for them. For Neville, and Hannah… and Ron." He swallowed hard, his gaze turning to the others in the room, the broken expressions of his friends and allies. "We have to finish this. We have to… to make sure they didn't die for nothing."
But the resolve in his voice did little to soothe the anguish that filled the room.
"Harry's right," Luna whispered, her voice soft but steady. Everyone turned to look at her, their faces pale and tear-streaked. "We have to keep going. For them. For everyone we've lost."
Molly looked up, her eyes bloodshot and hollow. "But how?" she whispered brokenly. "How do we go on without them?"
Luna stepped forward, her gaze unwavering. "By remembering why we're fighting. By honoring them. Neville… Ron… they didn't want to die. But they wanted us to win. They wanted us to be free."
Silence fell, thick and suffocating. And then, slowly, painfully, the others began to nod. One by one, they pulled themselves together, their grief still raw but tempered with a fierce determination.
The diadem and the cup. Two Horcruxes down. But at what cost?
They gathered around the bodies of their fallen, whispering words of goodbye, of love and loss. The room was filled with the sounds of quiet weeping, the soft murmur of voices paying tribute to the dead.
And through it all, the weight of their grief mingled with the heavy burden of the war still to come.
They were not done yet. But they were broken. And it would take everything they had left to see this fight through to the end.
But for Ron, for Neville, for Hannah, and all the others… they would keep fighting.