Montague's Journey

Chapter 4 - Dream a Luna Dream With Me

Luna Lovegood watched perplexed as Montague slammed his head against the stone wall behind him - slowly at first, then more rapidly.

"Reginald, what are you doing?" Luna asked.

"I'm trying to wake - thunk - myself - thunk - up - thunk - from this nightmare," he voiced. Since hitting the back of his skull didn't seem to be working, he twisted his body and bashed the side of his head on the wall.

"Banging your head won't help. Believe me, I've tried," she said. "Waking up is hard to do."

"Oh - thunk - is that - thunk - so," he said with a few more angered attempts.

"Reginald! Stop burning my flower beds," commanded Luna.

Montague stopped his self-pummeling. Her bold voice astonished him - that and her use of his given name. He was even more surprised by the enlarged ring of burnt ivy around where he knelt. Montague knew some people considered him repulsive, but he could not recall ever having this effect on plant life. Even his tantrum in third-year Herbology didn't upset a single Mandrake.

"How did you know my first name was Reginald?" he asked.

"I heard somebody shout it earlier," she said and glanced up into the air as if the voice would announce itself again. "It was my first clue that our dreamscapes had merged. Fascinating isn't it?"

Luna knelt down and started collecting more radishes, then rose and walked back to the huge willow. The tree politely lowered its thick branches and allowed her to comfortably step into her seat. She hung her basket full of flowers and radishes on a branch that conveniently sprouted up. She patted the tree in thanks then reached over her shoulder, pulled a few locks of her waist-length golden hair forward and started to braid it.

Montague watched her with increasing interest.

She says we're dreaming. Together. The same dream.

It was an odd explanation of recent events, but at least he had an explanation. Explanations were far better than an endless array of questions, so Montague decided Luna's theory was worth pursing. He recalled her earlier fascination with the ivy.

"And the ivy was a clue also," he pressed.

"Yes. Contrary to what Professor Trelawney may say" - her disregard for the subject was evident in the manner in which she dragged out the middle syllable of the Divination instructor's name - "dreams are a reflection of your deepest feelings and beliefs, not predictions of the future. Your true frustration showed itself through the burning of the ivy. However, most interesting is that your feelings affected something I created. That told me there was a real mind behind the emotion," she finished straightforwardly.

"That's amazing," Montague acknowledged.

"That's being a Ravenclaw," Luna replied with a smirk. Montague couldn't help but crack a smile himself. School rivalries never die. Even when dreaming.

"So, Ravenclaw, how is that you can do all this," he panned across the garden tower, "and I can only burn a bunch of leaves?"

The smirk faded from Luna's face, and she paused mid-braid to consider her answer.

"Well, believing anything is possible has its rewards." She looked about her blossoming glade and up and down her massive tree. "At least here it does," she said softly. The braid she had been working on slipped free of her fingers and slowly unwound itself. For a moment, Montague thought she was going to cry. He would swear that the tower scene shimmered as if, for only a half-second, he was viewing the entire place through a curtain of falling water. Just as quickly, the curtain vanished and the garden foliage burst into new life. The white flowers turned to all colors of the rainbow and the ivy leaves shaped themselves into perfect hearts, diamonds, clovers and spades. Montague glanced back to Luna and noticed her bright smile had returned.

"Impressive. Is that 'being a Ravenclaw' again?" he teased in a friendly way.

"No. That's being Luna Lovegood," she countered in good humor.

"Ah... I see. What about these chains, Luna?" Montague asked more seriously.

Luna gathered up her tresses and re-started her lost braid. "My Ravenclaw hypothesis is that you are feeling totally trapped by something or someone, or you are in an inescapable situation. When you discover or conquer what that is, the chains will disappear," she stated.

Montague was impressed again by Luna's assessment of his situation, but he didn't know how to respond. She was implying that he needed to dig down into his feelings. Examining one's own feelings was something Slytherins avoided like dragon-pox; it seemed so... Hufflepuff-ish.

"Is there any other way?" he asked.

"Hmm... I suppose a stronger desire or belief could change the dream," speculated Luna.

Montague closed his eyes and thought hard about being free from the chains. He knew it probably wasn't that simple, but he wanted to try it anyway. Instead of vanishing, the chains just seemed to increase in size and weight. He fleetingly experienced the same feeling of despair he had when the Quidditch trunk first closed upon him. The memory and its feeling certainly fit Luna's description of "inescapable" and "totally trapped." He opened his eyes and examined the iron chains and shackles with new insight.

Is it fear, despair or the impossibility of being stuck in a snitch?

"You don't know why you are trapped," stated Luna, interrupting his thought. She had integrated some of her flowers into her lengthening braid and looked rather cute.

"No. I think I know why. It's just that... you probably won't believe me," he finished quickly and looked away from her. It wounded his pride to ask help from an attractive girl; even more so to appear a nutter in front of one. When he turned back to look for her reaction, she merely flicked her eyes towards the walls of the room. Montague followed her unspoken gesture and witnessed the unbelievable. In three separate waves, every flower in the tower turned a brilliant Ravenclaw blue, every radish turned Slytherin green and every leaf turned sparkling bronze with silver veins. He rounded back to her and found her still casually braiding her hair, working in an occasional green radish.

"Try me," she said.

If he hadn't seen it himself, he would have never guessed what power there was in unconstrained beliefs. It was almost too good to be true.

Of all the people who could have appeared in my dreams, how fortunate...

"Right. Well... You see... This sounds silly... but... I'm locked inside a Quidditch trunk," he began. He glanced at Luna expecting her to laugh, but she was aptly listening. He looked to the chains, expecting them to disappear, but they remained stubbornly present.

"Wow," Luna said nonchalantly, "You're awfully big to fit in a trunk. Did you drink a strong Shrinking Potion? There was a man in Manchester that shrunk himself to the size of an ant and it took him seven months to climb up his laboratory shelf and mix an antidote. He didn't want to Apparate to St. Mungo's because he was afraid of being stepped on."

"Uh... right... Compared to that story, you'll find this easy to believe," he said. "I'm in the Quidditch trunk because I'm... I'm a snitch."

Luna paused in her braiding and absorbed what he just said. "You don't look like a snitch. I thought you were Reginald Francis Montague?"

"I am, but somehow I came to be possessing a snitch."

"You're possessing a snitch," Luna said. Comprehension spread across her face and she shouted, "Of course! That's how the Tornados have been secretly cheating at Quidditch this season! Daddy will be so pleased to have that bit of news. Wait a second... were you the snitch in the Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff match?"

"Yes! Yes! That was me! Were you there?" said Montague elatedly.

"Of course I was there. I was wearing a big hat with a huge screeching eagle on top."

Montague vaguely remembered the image of the hat and the sound of the screeching eagle that preceded his capture. He tried to recall the person wearing it, but the memory was weak.

"I definitely remember the hat," he affirmed.

"That was an exciting match. Tell me about possessing the snitch. Daddy will want a full report," Luna asked with a sincere measure of excitement.

"It was incredible," Montague said, and launched easily into his story. Still chained, he managed to stand up and reenact some of his more clever maneuvers for Luna's entertainment. Luna laughed and cheered as if the match was actually taking place. She even added circling snitches and broomsticks of blue and yellow to the décor of the tower. She transfigured the radishes into miniature Quaffles. When Montague neared the point in the tale in which he was captured, it dawned on him how Luna could help.

"Hey, Luna. I just thought of something. It's tough to talk when possessing a snitch. When you wake up, can you bring a message to Professor Snape for me?" he asked.

Luna stopped choreographing the collision of broomsticks and answered, "Professor Snape and I aren't exactly on the best of terms lately. Can you believe he took away ten points because I recommended using Blibbering Humdinger scales instead of lacewings? You know the scales are twice as potent."

No. Montague didn't know anything about Blibbering Humdinger scales - other than the fact that there was no such thing as a Blibbering Humdinger. When he considered some of Luna's earlier ramblings - the incredible miniature man from Manchester, the cheating Tornados theory - the irony struck him like Bludger to the head. Clearly, Luna would believe anything he told her, but obviously nobody - especially Professor Snape - would believe Luna. In Montague's eyes, the sparkling image of Luna Lovegood appeared to dim and the shackles on his wrists became heavier.

Of all the people who could have appeared in my dreams, how unfortunate... Still, there might be a way...

"Look, all you have to do is tell Professor Snape that... Fred and George Weasley," he said through clenched teeth, "did something to me and he can interrogate them as to what happened."

"Fred and George are no longer at Hogwarts," she answered. "They flew off to London last night."

"What?!" screamed Montague, his face burning red with rage.

"Fred and George are no longer at Hogwarts. They flew off to London last night," repeated Luna.

Suddenly the tower shook as if a minor earthquake had just struck. Montague panicked and grasped his chains where he stood. Luna seized her tree-seat with both hands. After the rocking tower settled a few seconds later, Montague looked to Luna for an explanation.

"I'm not sure," Luna replied to his questioning look, "It might have been your anger, but I sensed something scraping on stone. Real physical events have a strange way of integrating themselves with the dreamscape. I can still hear Professor Binns talking if I concentrate." Luna released her tight hold of the tree and straightened up.

Despite Luna's inclination toward the unbelievable, Montague still trusted her understanding of the dreamscape. He nodded thoughtfully and acknowledged her explanation. Without even realizing it, he had fully accepted her whole dream integration theory.

"Could someone be moving the Quidditch trunk?" he suggested.

"Yes, that's a good guess," said Luna.

"Luna, what will happen when one of us wakes up?" Montague asked earnestly.

"I don't know, but it will be exciting to see, won't it?" she said perkily.

Montague couldn't share her zeal. He wasn't happy with the thought of returning to the lonely Quidditch trunk. He was enjoying Luna's company and subtlety thought his snitch antics had increased her interest in him. He wondered if he could manipulate the combined dream enough to snog this pretty witch. He'd dreamed such things before, and he was deeply upset when he woke up prematurely on those occasions too.

Luna startled him by asking, "You don't want to wake up, do you?"

Blimey, I hope she didn't read everything I was thinking.

"Erm... no, I'm not anxious to return to... to being a snitch," he maneuvered.

"How did Fred and George Weasley's put you into the snitch?" Luna asked.

"They didn't put me there. They ported me to a - Merlin's beard, how do I explain it - a world of socks," he replied and proceeded to describe the world of lost articles to Luna. (He conveniently left out his confrontation with the tailless mouse.) Luna was fascinated with his story and could hardly restrain herself from asking about all the objects that inhabited the strange plane.

"Were there any books? How about a purple-dyed, eagle feather quill or a pair of radish earrings? The March issue of the Quibbler?" she asked hopefully.

"No," Montague replied to everything on her list.

"Did you see any Crumple-Horned Snorkacks?" she asked optimistically.

"What's a-," Montague stopped himself short, "No. I didn't see any Crumple-torn Snore-Cats. Why do you ask, Luna?"

Luna's milky white complexion turned a faint pink.

"I've misplaced a few items during the term and I just wondered if they might have turned up..." her voice trailed off and she gazed down at her dangling feet. Montague suspected there was more to her questioning, but selfishly opted to pursue his problem first.

"So, I grabbed the snitch that was flitting around and the next thing I knew, I was in the middle of the Quidditch match. What does your Ravenclaw mind make of all that?" he asked.

Luna was still gazing down and seemed hypnotized with her swinging feet. Finally, she looked up and burst out, "I think you're out of your mind."

Montague felt betrayed.

"Are you calling me a nutter? What happened to 'Try me' and 'believing anything is possible?'" he asked.

"I didn't say you're a nutter, I said you're out of your mind," Luna countered calmly. "Muggles call it an 'out of body experience' but its actually old fashioned spirit-based magic that..." Luna stopped abruptly and sat up straight in her seat. "What was that?" she whispered. In a panic, she wrapped both arms around a thick branch.

Montague didn't hear anything but, moments later, a loud crack of thunder rent the tower room. Simultaneously the tower began to tremble and a frenzied wind whipped up. Ivy was peeled away from the walls by the strength of the gale and the confined tower space became a whirling blender of leaves, flowers and radishes. Montague pulled the collar of his robes about him as best he could and tried to protect himself from being battered by flying debris. All around him the stones of the tower were cracking and crumbling to powder, but his chains held fast.

"Oh, for the love of Rowena, I hate when this happens," cried Luna. The Whomping Willow replica started to twist in place and, with a horrifying cry, it ripped itself up from the stone floor. It bucked and twisted like a raging bull as Luna clung on to her seat. The tree snapped once more and this time Luna could not hold on. She flew into the air and disappeared over the crumbling parapets.

"LUNA!" screamed Montague.

His bindings burst open in a flash of white light. He jumped up, ran past the thrashing tree and threw himself prone on the shaking ramparts. Luna's form was plummeting toward a courtyard of solid stone.

Montague had no qualms about watching Quidditch players collide, but the prospect of seeing a young girl splatter on stone was too much. He jerked his head away from the scene and clamped his eyes shut. He expected to hear something of the impact, but only the whisper of the dying winds brushed his ears. Montague chanced opening his eyes and tentatively looked over the edge.

There was no sign of Luna.

***

In a Hogwarts classroom in the physical plane, Luna's head hit the stone floor with a characteristic coconut bik! The jolt woke her up and she found herself lying on her side in the middle of the aisle of the History of Magic classroom. Not one to overlook an opportunity to view the world from a new perspective, Luna lay there momentarily to observe the peculiar assortment of socks worn by her classmates. Monika Tamilson's golden yellow socks with red hearts and green clovers were an interesting choice. I wonder if the clovers cry out the names of the Irish Quidditch team Chasers when you slip them on in the morning?

From across the aisle, two Ravenclaw boys were clutching their sides and covering their mouths in an effort to restrain their laughter. Colin Creevy, sitting in front of them, spun around when he heard the commotion and joined in the merriment when he saw Luna dazed on the classroom floor. Sitting next to Luna, Ginny Weasley casually drew her wand and shot the three sniggering boys a look that could Stupefy a mountain troll. The boys winced and promptly shut up.

"Luna, are you okay?" asked Ginny.

"What happened?" Luna asked as she sat up and carefully massaged a bump on her head.

"You fell asleep. Mitchell and Derek thought it would be funny to yank your chair out from under you," Ginny whispered while helping Luna back onto her seat. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention, else I would've stopped them." She glanced over at the boys again and envisioned a nice Bat-Bogey Hex in each of their futures. She stashed her wand in her robe pocket and tried to concentrate on taking notes. Professor Binns droned on with his lecture, completely unaware of the disturbance in the middle of his classroom.

"I wish they didn't do that," sulked Luna. She slumped into her chair and straightened her Butterbeer cap necklace. "They interrupted a rather interesting conversation with Montague."

Ginny's head snapped back to look at her Ravenclaw friend. Luna was busy gathering up her quill and ink, and she didn't notice Ginny's curious stare.

Normally, Ginny would refrain from delving into Luna's strange comments, especially during class. However, she considered Luna's casual mention of Montague a highly unlikely coincidence.

"What about Montague?" Ginny probed and prepared herself for a potential Looney-ism.

"I just met him in my dream," she said vaguely.

"In your dream?" Ginny asked incredulously. "Luna, Montague's been in the hospital wing for the last two weeks."

Luna stared back at Ginny with wide eyes and began to shiver.

Just then, the door to the classroom burst open and Professor Snape entered. Silence swallowed the room like a Dementor approaching.

"Professor Binns, may I have a word with Miss Lovegood," commanded Snape.

He didn't wait for Binns to answer. Instead, he marched straight to where Luna sat, glared at her down his long nose and made an uncontestable gesture for her to accompany him toward the classroom door. "If you would please follow me Miss Lovegood."

"Luna, what is going on," Ginny implored.

Without taking his eyes off Luna, Snape snapped, "Five points from Gryffindor. Mind your own business, Miss Weasley."

Impervious to Professor Snape's frigid mood, Luna started humming a chorus of "Weasley is Our King" and collected her quills and books. Snape folded his arms and drummed his fingers impatiently. He looked like he was milliseconds away from whipping out his wand when Luna finally announced she was ready. As she (and every other eye in the classroom) watched Luna trail the Potions Master out the door, Ginny silently prayed for her friend's safe return.