bookishwench: (Default)
[personal profile] bookishwench

“Yes,” she said. “I’ve been here for a few weeks now.”

“I—,“ Draco began, but he simply let his voice drift away.

“Mr. Ollivander could do with some water, if you have any,” Luna said.

An earthenware jug was set down on the floor by Ollivander’s head as well as a single mug.

“I didn’t know there were two of you,” he said, staring stupidly at the cup.

Luna nodded, then filled the cup and carefully held it against Ollivander’s lips. The water was cool, and it was possibly the most delicious thing his parched mouth had ever tasted.

“Why didn’t the food and water just appear this time?” Luna asked, her tone conversational, as though she were anywhere other than being held prisoner in this boy’s cellar.

Draco said nothing, but Ollivander guessed Voldemort had ordered them not to have anything. More than likely Luna was included because they suspected she might share her food and water. Voldemort had done this before when Ollivander had refused to speak, starving poor Charity for four days along with him. Poor, poor Charity…

“No, the real question is why did you bring it at all, boy,” Ollivander asked through dry lips.

Draco remained silent, though every inch of him silently screamed he was wishing he were anywhere else. His eyes flickered to the door, obviously worried someone might catch what he was doing.

Ollivander tried to feel some bit of pity for him, but the pain and the torture and the darkness of his imprisonment had leached away his ability to sympathize. Luna took the empty mug away from his lips. He hadn’t meant to drink it all.

“Can you manage some bread?” Luna asked gently.

He nodded. She carefully tore the small loaf into bite-sized chunks which he gratefully swallowed.

He ate mindlessly, tasting nothing, until it too was gone, and he hated himself for it. He should have told her to take it instead, but he couldn’t seem to think clearly. Sleep was starting to pull at the corners of his brain, a deep tiredness that refused to be turned aside in spite of a cold floor or the dull reminder of pain in every muscle and bone.

“Rest, Mr. Ollivander,” Luna said. “I think you’ll be okay now.”

She picked up the mug and plate and stood to return them to the boy.

“Thank you, Draco,” she said.

He looked at her with a mixture of confusion and horror, unable to make himself take the things from her.

“Thank you?” he said in disbelief. “Do you know what they did to him up there?”

“No, but I know what you did for him down here,” she said. “You didn’t have to come, and it was a risk, so yes, thank you.”

He huffed out a breath that seemed an attempt at the disdainful pride Ollivander remembered from in him in his shop at age eleven, but it sounded more tired than vain.

“You always were loony,” he muttered.

“I suppose I am,” she said. “I don’t mind, though, because I can sleep at night. When was the last time you slept without nightmares?”

From anyone else it would have been an accusation, but from Luna it was only a question with a hint of sadness behind it. The boy’s mouth worked soundlessly, then he closed his lips tightly and walked up the stairs, closing the door behind him. Ollivander had only a moment to ponder what had happened before sleep dragged him into darkness for many hours.

When he woke the next day, their food appeared as usual.

Days passed, then weeks. Ollivander began losing track of the date again, but he knew winter was coming to a close. Light was returning in the evenings, and each day lasted just a bit longer. The vernal equinox would come one day, or so he told himself. He just wasn’t always certain they’d both be there to see it.

Luna had become adept at conjuring the little ball of light now, though they were careful to extinguish it at the first sign of someone approaching the stairs. Those times were rare. Draco did not come again, but food appeared regularly.

“Mr. Ollivander, why does a wand choose someone?” Luna asked on a rainy day in February.

The damp of the cellar was oppressive, make both of them feel chilled to the bone, and while the light she could conjure was comforting, it brought very little warmth. They were both shivering, and the only defense left was distraction.

“I haven’t the vaguest idea,” he admitted. “I’ve made a study of wands, everything from their wood and cores to their forms and history, but I still don’t have a clue why a wand picks someone. I do know there’s a reason, though.”

“I like that,” Luna said, closing her eyes dreamily. “Not every mystery in the world should be solved, or it would be a dreadfully boring place. That’s why when Dad and I travel, I’m perfectly happy when we don’t find the creatures we’re looking for. I don’t need to know everything. Sometimes believing is quite enough on its own.”

Ollivander smiled at her. Sometimes things like hope or faith or magic were the realest of all. Even here. Especially here.

For a moment, he wouldn’t have been surprised at all to see a Crumple-Horned Snorkack curled up in the corner.

The rain came every day for a solid week, sometimes disappearing for a few hours only to return again with a terrible downpour. The Malfoy cellar was beginning to leak. Tiny rivulets of water seeped down the walls, and standing puddles had formed in some spots. The perpetual damp was making Ollivander’s joints ache. Luna, on the other hand, had caught an absolutely frightful cold. He only hoped it wouldn’t progress into something worse.

The girl spent nearly two days sleeping on the old bed, huddled under Ollivander’s coat as an extra blanket, but he could still see her shivering.
Anonymous( )Anonymous This account has disabled anonymous posting.
OpenID( )OpenID You can comment on this post while signed in with an account from many other sites, once you have confirmed your email address. Sign in using OpenID.
Account name:
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.


Notice: This account is set to log the IP addresses of everyone who comments.
Links will be displayed as unclickable URLs to help prevent spam.


bookishwench: (Default)

September 2017

3 45 6789

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 22nd, 2017 06:51 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios