A Distorted Reflection

Lyta Padfoot

Story Summary:
In a world rearranged by Voldemort, Luna Lovegood and Percy Weasley cling to tenuous hope.

Posted:
10/08/2003
Hits:
428
Author's Note:
This is an alternate universe story that diverges from canon in the early 1980's. Basically Harry is dead and Voldemort is in charge. Pure-bloods are aristocrats, Muggles serfs, and half-bloods are kind of the go betweens so the pure-bloods can keep their interaction with Muggles to a minimum. Muggle-born children are killed. Luna is considered a half-blood because her grandmother was Muggle-born. Percy and Luna are somewhat different characters in this story because they have had different experiences.


"A Distorted Reflection"

Luna Lovegood knew she was fortunate to have her own room; most of the servants made do with dormitory style quarters in the attic. Her blood, mixed thought it might be, afforded her certain privileges.

She ran a hand across the glass of her bedroom window. Outside it might be cold, but charms on the glass kept the heat inside. Her fingers moved from glass to window frame to the faded linen curtains to bare plaster wall. When she was little she'd had a much larger room with yellow painted walls in her parent's cottage; a place filled with warmth and chaos from floorboards to chimney top. She supposed her parents were dead now, executed as blood traitors.

Far below her she could see a figure approaching the old caretaker's cottage that was now only used for storage. Luna recognized him from his stride and fumbled for her cloak. It was black and fastened with simple ties and covered the white cotton nightgown that otherwise would have been a beacon to anyone looking. She crept from her room and down the narrow stairway constructed for the use of the Lestrange servants.

It was cold outside and she was shivering as she pushed open the cottage door. Inside, Percy Weasley caught her by the waist, brought her to him, and kissed her deeply, sending a fire though her veins that drove away the cold faster than any spell.

"I missed you," he whispered into her ear. Despite all the years he'd spent at the Lestrange's Scottish estate his voice never quite surrendered its original English accent.

"And I you," Luna said, shrugging off her cloak and letting it fall to the floor in a puddle of dark wool. Her thin cotton nightgown and his silk robes joined it moments later.

Some time later, she lay in Percy's arms, running her fingertips along his collar bone and revelling in this stolen moment with him. Too soon they'd have to return to the house and their separate bedrooms.

"I'm being sent back to Leith soon," Percy told her, frowning, as he stroked her hair. "The Lestranges want me to see to their interests there."

Luna closed her eyes, she'd already heard of his impending departure from a house-elf. "How long?"

"A month. Perhaps longer."

There was a deeper sadness in him than usual. She opened her eyes and traced the line of his jaw with her knuckles. "Something troubles you."

"Am I that transparent?" Percy whispered into her hair. "I saw one of my brothers yesterday."

Luna sat up a little. Percy's parents were blood traitors like hers, but they were still pure-blood. After being forced to witness their parent's execution the Weasley children had been sent to Voldemort's most loyal supporters to be fostered. In the intervening years, Percy had only seen one of his siblings, his younger sister Ginny. It was not pleasant to think about Ginny Weasley. Luna had been sent by Mrs. Lestrange to help with her wedding and would never forget the horror in the other girl's eyes, her face whiter than her dress, as she was married off to Avery - a DeathEater old enough to be her grandfather.

"Which one?" It was not encouraged for Percy to discuss his family, something Luna well understood as she was in the same situation. He'd been the Lestrange's sole fosterling and they had no children of their own. In an instant he'd gone from one of seven children to an only child. When she'd first been brought here, eight years old and her face still stinging from Mrs. Lestrange's slap, he'd been kind to her even though he was a pure-blood and she a half-blood servant. Percy was used to, even missed, comforting younger children and thought nothing of having her climb into bed with him when nightmares robbed her of sleep.

It had been Percy to whom she'd fled after Travers forced her into his bed. He'd given her a potion that prevented 'complications' and held her until her tears stopped. Later, it had been to him she turned when she felt the need to know that sex wasn't only about pain and humiliation. Since that night, he'd come to need her as much as she needed him. They kept their relationship quiet - the Lestranges believed Percy was simply tumbling an available half-blood servant while he sought an appropriate pure-blood bride. Neither did anything to convince the them otherwise.

"George."

One of the twins, then.

"He works for the New Ministry," his expression grew pained and more than a little disgusted. "In the Department of Muggle Affairs."

Luna could not refrain from wincing. After the war, Muggles and Muggle-borns had been reduced to slaves in fact if not name. The Department of Muggle Affairs was supposed to help them adjust, in reality it tortured and killed them like field mice.

"I spoke to him," Percy continued. His brown eyes were closed and Luna knew he was reliving the memory even as he told her. "He said he was pleased to see I was working to redeem our family name. He sounded like Malfoy. I think that's who fostered him."

Luna knew of the Malfoy family - Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Lestrange were sisters. The Malfoys were also infamous for their hard stance on Muggles. Sometimes Mrs. Lestrange left copies of the New Prophet about the manor that Luna read and sift for crumbs of truth. She wasn't supposed to know how to read, but her parents had begun to teach her before they died. Percy completed her instruction in secret and adviced she kept her ability hidden. She was not a quick reader but she could usually persevere given enough time. Once she'd struggled through an article on Lucius Malfoy's views of Muggles. It held the same horrid fascination that the public execution of a purported rebel she'd been required to witness did; no matter how much she wanted to turn away, she couldn't.

Privately, Luna thought the Malfoys were the ones in need of eradication.

"I've heard there is still resistance in the north," Luna whispered. They weren't supposed to know there still existed places were the Dark Lord's edicts were meaningless, but there was little at Lestrange Manor that was not known by the servants. Luna herself had become very good at piecing together pictures from scant clues. Knowledge was survival.

"So I've heard," Percy sighed wistfully. "I think my older brother Charlie may be them. He was at Hogwarts when..."

He did not need to complete his thought, Luna already had the tale of how the great rebel Dumbledore vanished - taking a quarter of Hogwart's students with him. These missing students were a subject of much hushed speculation in the backstairs world of the servants. It was even rumoured that some were Muggle-born wizards and witches.

"Maybe he is with them," Luna said, winding her arms around Percy's neck. Cautious hope burned in her lover's brown eyes, for if Charlie were not with Dumbledore then he was most likely dead. She kissed him, driving way shadowy doubts.

"There is the prophesy," he reminded her, running a hand down her side. "The second child was never accounted for."

An old hope, one Luna knew even better than he; it was what kept the servants going. The hope that someday Neville Longbottom would bring down Voldemort.