bookishwench: (Default)
[personal profile] bookishwench

Previous parts available here

“Would you at least tell me what day it is?” she asked. “I’ve lost count.”

“It’s Monday, the thirty-first of March,” Draco said. “Easter was yesterday. That’s why I’m home, if you can call it that. It’s the hols.”

“So it’s the first Monday after the first Sunday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox,” Luna said quietly. “That’s a rather tricky equation to put together, I suppose, but it means the sun is coming back now. No one can stop that.”

“No, some things they can’t do,” Draco said, then sighed, “and some things I can’t do either.”

Luna nodded. The blood on Draco’s face had dried, and a black eye was developing where she’d poked him. While she hated violence, a small part of her was pleased she’d come out the victor in a one-on-one battle.

“You’d better clean yourself up before you leave,” she said.

“No. It will add to the realism,” he said. “They’ll assume you put up a good fight. That reminds me, though.”

He picked up his wand with a look of distaste.

“I’ll make it so it goes away quickly, but we’ve got to have the look of the thing,” he said.

“Right,” Luna said.

Draco cast a glamor that made it appear Luna was more of wreck than she actually was. Her eyes looked red from crying, hand marks appeared on her arms and throat, and bruises started to come on her legs. None of it actually hurt, but it looked horrid.

“One last thing,” he said, then promptly incinerated the bed.

“I don’t want them to find, or not find, any other evidence that what they think was going on in here didn’t occur. When in doubt, burn the whole thing down,” he said as the smoky air cleared away.

“Is that what you intend to do if Harry loses?” Luna asked. “Burn everything down?”

“At that point, I doubt it would matter,” Draco said. “I just want to keep my family alive, and if Harry winning will do that, then so be it.”

“What if You-Know-Who is your best chance?” Luna said.

“I’m a Slytherin, Lovegood,” he said, and she noted he was using her last name again. “Our loyalties are towards ourselves. I intend to do whatever I have to.”

Luna said nothing, but she thought of her father betraying Harry to the Death Eaters to protect her.

“I don’t agree,” she said, “but I think I understand. Can you please send some help for Mr. Ollivander?”

“I don’t know if I can,” Draco said. “The Dark Lord wants him alive now, so I don’t think there’s any great danger.”

“But I nearly died a few months ago and…” her voice drifted away as the reality hit her. “You-Know-Who doesn’t care if I die, does he.”

Draco looked at her and seemed to deflate under her gaze.

“I don’t think he cares whether anyone dies unless they fulfill some use for him. Otherwise, he appears to enjoy it.”

“It’s time,” he said. “I…”

His voice drifted away, and Luna had the impression he wanted to apologize for something, for everything maybe, but he still couldn’t bring himself to say it. Her protuberant eyes took in the image of a defeated enemy who had only shreds of dignity left to cling to, and she found she didn’t need to hear it. This wasn’t the real villain of the piece, only a shadow of him.

“Then let’s go,” she said, glancing around the room again. “I don’t like the cellar, but I don’t like this place either. Too many Nargles.”

Luna was taken back down to the cellar by Wormtail, and she assumed her appearance must have been sufficiently disturbing as even he kept relatively quiet and merely opened the door to her usual prison and shoved her in the direction of the stairs. The door was closed and bolted behind her.

The second she was certain she was alone, she ran down the stairs even in the darkness.

“Mr. Ollivander!” she cried. “Where are you?”

“Here, child,” came a soft voice from the corner.

She cast the spell for light and immediately saw him lying on the little bed.

“What did they do to you?” he said, looking in horror at the bruises on her face.

“These are nothing, just a spell,” she said. “They should be almost gone by morning.”

“Then they didn’t hurt you?” he asked.

“No,” Luna said. “Draco had some questions that I couldn’t answer and that was all. But what about you?”

“I’m tired and weak, and my head hurts, but I should be fine, I think,” he said. More than anything, relief colored his words. Luna was safe and unharmed. His throbbing head and bruises ceased to bother him because nothing else mattered.

Dinner arrived shortly after, but not in the usual way. Instead, a House-elf appeared with a tray as well as a small bag.

“Bandages is in there, Miss, for the other one’s injuries,” she said.

“Thank you,” Luna said, opening the bag to find the bandages as well as some ointment.

“You is most welcome, Miss,” the elf said, then vanished.

Suspecting something was strange, Luna took the medical supplies out of the bag and beneath it were two things: a note and a very sharp, rather deadly-looking bent metal nail.

Use if needed. Be Slytherin enough to save yourself.

The ointment Luna applied to Mr. Ollivander’s injuries was a great help, and the food, though still meager, was of very slightly better quality. A few more pieces of meat could be found in the broth, and the bread had a pat of butter with it. While they both celebrated the better meal, Ollivander felt a stab of grief that something so small could look like a feast.

“Yesterday was Easter,” Luna said conversationally. “I always like spring. It feels like new things will happen. Good things.”

“I hope you’re right, my dear,” he said. “I do hope you’re right.”


bookishwench: (Default)

September 2017

3 45 6789

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 20th, 2017 05:39 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios