Luna's year

Harry felt a bone-chilling dread wash over him. The Dementors were shuffling nearer, seeming to virtually glide over the ground, their tattered gray cloaks billowing ominously on their approach.

Luna sighed softly and slowly got to her feet. Harry could see plainly she wasn't going to be able to outrun them, yet standing their ground wasn't an option. Neither one of them had a wand now, and unless one of them could spontaneously summon a Patronus without one...

Harry caught a blurry glint of something on cobblestones where he'd fought Voldemort...a wand!

He ran over to it and snatched it up, suddenly realizing with mortification it held no power here...he might as well be brandishing a twig at the approaching horrors.

Luna had joined him and grasped his arm tightly, wether in urgency or to keep from falling he couldn't tell.

"Harry," she said softly, "I suppose this may be a good time to leave..."

But Harry knew it was useless to run. Luna could barely stand as it was; and while he could carry her, there was no way he could do so and outrun a group of Dementors. And even if he could, there was nowhere to go; the portal that lay a half hour's walk from here only worked one way. They were trapped.

Harry shivered at the thought of dying at the hands of those horridly wilting creatures It was said the Dementors' Kiss would suck one's soul out into nothingness. What did that mean, exactly? Regardless, he couldn't allow that.

He looked at the wall of green flames silently fluttering a few feet away and made an agonizing decision.

"We can't let them get us, Luna - " his voice broke.

He felt Luna squeeze his arm gently. "They won't," she said reassuringly. "I brought that old sock with me."

Harry whirled on her, his eyes wide as saucers. "Luna!!"

"Well," said Luna, opening the drawstring of small bag and turning it upside down, the tattered old sock flopping to the ground, "You'd best get your glasses before they do - "

Harry felt hope surge through him at the sight of the Portkey. He hadn't even realized his glasses had been knocked off during the scuffle with Voldemort. He looked around his feet for his glasses, very conscious of the Dementors' approach -

He saw a glimmer on the ground and bent down to pick it up, stopping just short when he saw it was a softly glowing glass sphere slightly smaller than his fist. Voldemort must have dropped this, he mused. He decided to take it, realizing it had to be of some importance to be carried on the person of the Dark Lord.

At the last moment he hesitated. Could it be another portkey? Where would it lead if it was? Did he dare?

"Harry?" Luna voiced behind him.

"I...there's something here," he replied, seeing the Dementors spreading out on either side of the circle of flames, clearly intent on cutting off their retreat. "I'm not exactly sure what it is - "

Luna joined him, one hand still clutching her ribs as she gazed down at the glowing crystal sphere.

"Could it be another Prophecy?" asked Harry.

She continued to stare at it curiously. "It rather looks like one, doesn't it?" she said softly. "I imagine you'll want to touch..." she gripped his arm in anticipation.

Harry glanced up. The Dementors were almost on top of them. He snatched up his glasses, then, with baited breath, gingerly put a finger on the tiny glass sphere.

Nothing.

Great, he thought, snatching it up and pocketing it inside his robe. They rushed over to where the sock still lay on the ground, a Dementor only a step away from it...

Luna's legs gave out as she collapsed a few feet from the crumpled sock, one arm extended in desperation, dragging Harry along with her as she fell...

Harry didn't feel himself hitting the ground for several seconds; instead he sensed the familiar abrupt pull of an active portkey, a swirl of colors and wind rushing by him, a sense of momentary dizziness -

And then he hit a solid wooden floor with great force, as though he's fallen from a considerable height. Harry lost his grip on Voldemort's wand on impact, hearing it clatter away in the darkness -

He heard Luna gasp in pain next to him; he couldn't see a thing.

"Luna!"

"I'm...here..." she answered weakly.

Harry became aware of what sounded like a battle raging on somewhere above them, judging from the distant crashes and screams. He quickly groped around in the dark on his hands and knees, searching for the wand. His hand closed on something.

"...foot..." Luna whispered.

"Sorry," Harry said, continuing his search. He heard the muffled sounds of people running down a staircase in the distance. He had to hurry.

"Ow!" He said as he cracked his head on a heavy desk leg.

"Harry?" Luna called out from the darkness.

"I'm okay," he said, his head throbbing. His hand brushed up against something thin and loose on the floor, sending it rolling along -

Dang it, he thought, shuffling in the direction he thought he'd propelled it. He crawled quickly until finally his fingers wrapped themselves around a long wooden shaft.

"Lumos!"

The wand flickered slowly to life, though bathing the room in a strange light oscillating between orange and green. Luna was sitting up against the wall a few feet from him, eyes closed. She was breathing with difficulty through her open mouth, holding one arm across her midsection. He glanced around. They appeared to be in a large study; he thought it looked like the same room they'd left, though he'd seen it so briefly the first time he couldn't be sure.

"Luna, are you - "

The door burst open, its hinges creaking precariously. In ran the bedraggled figure of Bellatrix Lestrange followed by two Death Eaters.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry and Lestrange both shouted at once.

Harry's wand shot out a gust of dank wind which only served to blow his adversary's hair back, a split second before he was hit by her spell, being violently propelled backwards into a large, heavy desk, Voldemort's wand flying loose -

"Secure the door!" barked Lestrange.

Harry got to his feet, the small of his back aching painfully. He lunged -

Thin, snakelike ropes shot forth from Lestrange's wand and wrapped themselves tightly around him in mid-stride. He lost his balance and crashed to the floor.

"Well, what have we here?" said Bellatrix malevolently. "You've returned, have you? How strange that the Dark Lord would permit such - "

"Bellatrix!" one of the Death Eaters called from the door as Harry rolled himself on his side. "They're coming down, we can't stay here - "

"Let them come," said Lestrange casually. "I think they'll find a few surprises when they get here."

She walked over near the desk and picked up Voldemort's wand, which has rolled underneath. She then turned and gazed darkly at Luna.

Harry watched as the two black-clad figures cast one charm after another on the heavy oak door, apparently intending to bar entry of whoever was approaching. His eyes grew wide as Lestrange approached Luna; she was very pale and seemed to be having an increasing difficulty breathing.

Bellatrix crouched down next to her, using her wand to brush back Luna's hair from her ear. "I see you no longer have your wand," she said. "I take it the Master's plan was not in vain, even though you somehow managed to escape him."

She turned to gaze at Harry, her eyes narrowing at his expression. She turned back to look at Luna, then back at Harry once more.

"Ooohh, you weally weally wuve this one, don't you, widdle baby Potter?" she said in her harsh mockery of an infant's voice. Luna's eyes popped open as she stared intently at Harry.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!!" he screamed.

"Oh, I won't lay so much as a finger on her, widdle baby Potter," Bellatrix mocked. She drew up, the tip of her wand drifting downward.

A yellow glow enveloped Luna as she flew up from the floor and crashed heavily against the far wall, knocking loose several portraits which clattered to the ground around her.

"NO!!!"

Luna slowly stirred, painfully pushing herself up on hands and knees, one hand clutching her side. Her face was obscured by long trailing sand-colored hair, though Harry could see the horrifying sight of blood spilling freely to the floor from her mouth. Her breathing was very labored now, almost choking...

Bellatrix leveled her wand. "Crucio!"

Luna's body stiffened abruptly as she pressed her forehead down against the floor, though she did not cry out. Harry could see one blood-stained pale hand clawing at the floor in silent agony.

"STOP IT!!!" Harry screamed. Horror, helplessness and rage all fighting for supremacy within him.

"Very well," said Bellatrix, flinging her wand once more as Luna's form flew up and violently crashed into a large curio near the door, shattering its front windows and porcelain contents with sickening force. Her limp form fell to the floor, trailing shards of glass and pottery all round her. This time she no longer stirred. Blood was splattered all over the cabinet and nearby wall.

"Mmmm, no," Bellatrix mused, glancing wickedly at Harry, "I do think she would look better over there, don't you?"

She flicked her wand yet again to Harry's horror, as Luna shot up and crashed into a huge bookshelf on the wall behind him with such force that the massive book-filled cabinet tottered ominously, Bellatrix's crazed eyes widening with anticipation -

- and then disappointment as it settled back without falling over. She drew her wand at it. Harry's eyes were swimming in tears, barely able to make anything out through the haze - he had to do something -

"VOLDEMORT'S DEAD!!" he screamed.

Lestrange hesitated. She slowly turned her head in his direction, and for a moment Harry thought he saw a glint of anxiety in her eyes. It lasted for but an instant however, as her face slowly contorted itself in a sinister grin.

"Nice try," she said.

She turned her gaze back to the bookshelves.

"Where was I? Oh, yes, these should have fallen over, shouldn't they, widdle baby Potter?" Lestrange said, flicking her wand.

The huge bookshelf creaked and slowly tipped towards Luna's fallen, unmoving form.

"NOOOOO!!!"

The large chandelier overhead suddenly broke from its moorings. Bellatrix dove away in desperation and managed to avoid it by the barest of margins as it crashed noisily to the floor, bits of crystal scattering around the room.

At the same moment the door exploded inwards in a shower of wood and splinters as a huge brown form rushed into the room, roaring furiously.

"HAGRID!!" cried Harry.

The two Death Eaters nearest to the door had stumbled back from the flying debris; the moment the one on the right had lowered his arm to glance at the sudden intruder he was met by a massive fist. He was hit with such force that he made a complete revolution through the air and came to land on the floor, unmoving.

The second Death Eater was quickly struck down by a flash of light emanating from behind Hagrid. Harry saw, though his tear-stained glasses, a tall blonde woman emerge into the room, wand drawn.

"TRAITOROUS WENCH!!" screamed Bellatrix, jumping to her feet. She shot a last jinx at the bookcase and reached into her robes, vanishing into thin air just as two massive hands swung through the spot where she'd been standing an instant before.

Harry saw the bookcase tipping over. He desperately rolled next to Luna -

And felt a crushing, suffocating weight slam into him, an intense, excruciating pain shooting through his body before the darkness overtook him...

* * *

There was no hint of wind this morning as Harry knelt next to the gravestone; the grey, misty was making his hair damp. His glasses were heavily speckled with droplets and his bones rattled with cold, but he took no notice. When compared to his spirits, the weather was decidedly cheerful.

He looked about him. There were no birds to be seen, no squirrels, no one...lifeless...

Which is rather how he felt at the moment. Every moment, really, since that terribly fateful day...

He still couldn't believe it, even after all this time...she was gone.

It had hardly seemed possible at first, yet seemed even more so now. She had always been so full of life...

And yet he could not bring himself to pretend otherwise. He knew it to be true. The void he had felt in his heart upon losing Sirius had abruptly grown into a dark, gaping chasm that would never be filled, he was sure -

Hermione had been right, he now realized despairingly. She'd told him that day in the library, about his feelings for Luna, and yet he'd deluded himself into thinking she was somehow mistaken.

How wrong he was. He knew that now.

But so late...too late...

It had taken her death for Harry to truly come to realize his feelings. He'd been so blind, so stupid, waited so long...

Hermione had tried to bring him some solace by telling him it hadn't been as easy for him to recognize as it had been with Cho, as it had been much more than a simple attraction...it had gone much deeper than that, Harry realized painfully.

But it was all for naught now. All he had left were memories, which he clutched at desperately in his mind every waking moment. He closed his eyes and thought back to the day at the end of last term, when he'd suddenly seen Luna in a different light for the first time. How she'd stood there smiling at him, telling him that everything would somehow be all right...

They always come back in the end, she had told him...

He so wished to believe that now; he'd tried desperately to will it to happen...

He feebly lay a rose upon the snow-covered stone slab. The tears came trailing as they had each day before. No one had even tried to tell him it was time to move on.

They knew.

For him, there would be no moving on from this...

It was an unbearable loss. Worse, Harry felt with more than a twinge of rage, it was a sacrilege. To rob the world of someone so wonderful, so unique was beyond comprehension. He asked himself the same wrenching question he'd screamed in his mind every day. WHY?

"Why what?" a vague voice sounded nearby. He drew up and wiped his eyes before looking at the figure which had soundlessly come to sit next to him.

Every muscle in his body suddenly tensed at the sight which greeted him. He gaped open-mouthed at the pale, transluscent apparition of Luna, sitting cross-legged just to his left, gazing back at him dreamily. She had a small though very solid looking bowl cradled in her lap, a wooden spoon held daintily in one hand. He stared wide-eyed as she serenely gazed back at him while taking in a spoonful of what seemed like pudding.

"L-Luna??" asked Harry breathlessly.

"Hello," she said vaguely, holding out a spoonful in front of him. "Would you like some pudding? It's really rather good."

Harry gaped at her. His heart and stomach were doing every possible contortion within him. His hand reached but then hesitated...would she somehow dissipate if he touched her?

"I...you...y-you're a...a ghost??"

She nodded serenely. "It's much easier getting around school this way, you know," she said. "It's no wonder the Grey Lady hears so much gossip, really. Anyway, are you sure you won't try some?"

She held out another spoonful of pudding.

Harry blinked. "How can...but...I...this...you're...eating??"

She nodded sagely before taking in another spoonful. She gazed down at the gravestone. "Who is that?" she asked curiously.

Harry turned to look. "I...well that's...I mean...don't you know??"

She turned back to him. "Well, it's your dream," she said. "I only got here just now, you know. You were rather hard to find, actually."

"W-what??" asked Harry incredulously.

Luna looked thoughtful for a moment as she gazed at him. "You never have very happy dreams, do you?" she said.

"I..." Harry was stupefied.

Luna put her pudding aside and drew close, gazing at him with her large, ghostly silver eyes. "It won't always be like this, you know," she said softly.

Harry had a million words in his throat trying to get out at once, and so none emerged.

Luna turned to gaze at the gravestone once more, staring at the rose lying atop the snow-covered slab. "You're dreaming you just lost someone, aren't you? Someone close..."

"It's...not..." Harry cut himself off. It wasn't a dream, much as he desperately wished it was.

Is it?

Luna looked at him. "Well, we may as well be getting back," she said dreamily. "They'll be getting worried by now, I imagine."

"Huh?"

She smiled at him. And disappeared.

"GGAAAAHHH!!!" screamed Harry, trashing about violently.

"EEYYYAAAHHHH!!!" screamed Ron even more loudly, having been so abruptly jarred from his slumber in the chair next to him.

Harry sat up in a strange bed. He wasn't in the Gryffindor dormitory or the Hospital wing, that much was certain. The room was rather small, cube-shaped with pale green walls, dimly lit by a softly glowing lamp on his bedside.

"Harry!" exclaimed Ron breathlessly, pushing himself back up into the chair. "You're awake!"

Harry pushed himself into a more upright position. He had to get his bearings, he was completely lost.

"What...where am I?"

"St. Mungo's, mate," said Ron, dragging the chair nearer. "You've been here for two days now. How're you feeling?"

Harry reached over and took his glasses from the cluttered night table, knocking over a box of chocolate frogs in the process. The small windowless room was unadorned save for his bed, the night stand, a small cabinet and a large portrait of Mungo Bonham adorning the wall opposite him. Several chairs were scattered around his bed, though Ron's was currently the only one occupied.

"Luna..." Harry said cautiously, almost dreading to hear the answer, "Where is she?"

Ron hesitated. Harry's stomach convulsed.

"She's in the next room," Ron said softly. "They didn't think she was going to make it for a while...she was in a really bad way, blimey she was. But she's doing loads better now."

Harry let himself drop back upon his pillows. A overwhelming feeling of euphoria swept over him as he pushed his glasses up on his forehead and wiped his eyes. He noticed a heavy bandage wrapped around his left hand where he'd been stabbed by Voldemort's dagger. It still felt quite sore, though it hardly dampened his spirits now.

"I can't believe this - " he said hoarsely.

"Hey, Harry, you all right?" asked Ron with concern.

"Oh...am I ever," Harry answered, flopping his arms back to his sides and grinning up at the ceiling, the exhilaration of life returning to him. The dream had seemed so real...but it had been a dream, after all...

"Thank Merlin for that," said Ron. "We've all been worried sick. Hagrid said you rolled yourself under a big bookshelf that hit you on the head; he said that's probably what saved Luna's life, 'cause you kept the whole weight from coming down on her."

Harry pushed himself back up again. "Is she awake?"

"Not so far," answered Ron. "You've both been under since day before yesterday. But the Healers said she's out of danger now, at least."

Harry nodded solemnly. He made to get up -

"Hey, whoa there, mate," said Ron quickly. "They said you're not supposed to leave until they've checked you out after you wake up."

Harry's feet were dangling over the bed. He desperately wanted to go see Luna. She'd been in his dream and seemed to be aware of it...or had that just been part of his imagination also?

"Well, can you go get a Healer then?" Harry asked. "I'd really like to go see her."

"Uh, yeah sure, be right back."

Ron got up and exited the room quietly. Harry searched through all the treats on his bedside table and dug out his watch, which revealed it to be just past three in the morning. He propped up the pillows on his bed and sat back against them.

He looked at his left hand again. He tried squeezing it, but gave up quickly at the sudden jolt of pain which ran through his arm all the way to his shoulder. He felt fine otherwise, though; clearly the Healers had done an admirable job of repairing whatever damage the massive bookshelf had inflicted.

Still, it was strange that a simple stab wound had gone untreated save for a bandage. Maybe they just decided to leave it for when he was awake, he mused.

In any event, a sore hand was a small price to pay to discover that all was suddenly right in his world. He pinched himself, just in case this was yet another dream.

"Ow," he said, grinning.

Moments later Hermione came rushing into the room, followed by Ron, an aged and stooped old Healer and Professor Dumbledore. Though it was very early in the morning, the Headmaster was clad in a resplendent sky blue robe and hat, as though it were midday.

Hermione jumped on the bed and gave Harry a huge hug; had he not been sitting up against the headstand he would surely have fallen flat on his back.

"I've been so worried!" she cried.

"Hey, I'm okay," Harry said reassuringly as the old Healer began looking him over, which made him feel a bit awkward as he was still clutched in mid-hug.

"Uh, well, except for my hand, here," added Harry. Hermione drew back, her eyes red with tears and exhaustion. It looked to Harry as though she hadn't slept since they'd arrived two days ago. She looked down at his bandaged hand.

"Well...yes, we noticed that, Harry," said Hermione. She looked back at him. "The healers said it looked to be the kind of wound inflicted by a Dark Blade."

"Didn' just look like it," said the old Healer, taking Harry's glasses off and pointing a brightly lit wand in his eyes. "There's no doubt in my reckonin'."

Harry squinted at the bright light shining in his eyes. "It was Voldemort's dagger," he said. "How come it won't heal?"

"Stop squintin'!" the old Healer told him.

"Hey, it's not easy with you holding that light so close - " Harry countered.

Hermione's eyes had widened precipitously. "You...you saw him?"

Dumbledore, who had been standing serenely at the foot of the bed while the Healer was making his examination, looked at Harry intently.

"Yeah, we both did," Harry said.

Dumbledore came and sat in the chair next to him. "Harry," he said softly, "Please tell us what happened."

Harry looked at him, and for a moment his old anger threatened to resurface, being asked to provide information to someone who had hid so much from him for so long. But the sight of the old Headmaster's concerned gaze made him quickly push aside his emotions as he proceeded to recount everything that had taken place since he and Luna had left the Three Broomsticks.

"Blimey," Ron said several minutes later, after the Healer had left. "That's...bloody hell..."

Hermione was sitting on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands.

Dumbledore looked very grave. "This is consistent with what we theorized might have taken place," he said somberly.

Harry looked at him. "What do you mean?"

The old Headmaster sighed. "It would appear that Mr. Malfoy attempted to regain his standing with the Dark Lord by revealing our plans to capture Bellatrix Lestrange," he said heavily. "I'm afraid he does not understand that there is no going back once Lord Voldemort cast him out. It would seem he and I need to have a little chat."

"Lestrange!" Harry exclaimed, as their plan suddenly came back to him. "Did we - "

"I'm afraid not, Harry," Dumbledore said. "While we captured most of the Death Eaters involved, she was able to make her escape by using a Portkey. She is, alas, still at large."

Harry felt a dark cloud descend upon him. With Lestrange beyond their reach -

"What...what's going to happen to Luna's father?" he asked, though he dreaded the answer.

Dumbledore looked at him very seriously for several moments. "I'm afraid we may never know, Harry."

"THAT'S IT??" Harry yelled, outraged at the Headmaster's passive acceptance of the fact. "THAT'S ALL YOU'RE GOING TO DO??"

"Harry," Hermione said tearfully, taking hold of his arm, "There's really...nothing anyone can do now...I'm so sorry..."

Harry was about to turn his anger on her when the sight of her tearful eyes drew all anger from his mind. Hermione was never one to give up, if there was even a sliver of a chance...

They were all silent. Hermione was staring at her feet dangling over the side of the bed, looking thoroughly dejected; Ron looked no better off.

Dumbledore stood. "Well, if you will permit me, I must go convey this information to Miss Lovegood."

Harry looked up at him. "She...she's awake?"

"Oh yes," Dumbledore said. "She woke just a few minutes ago, as we were coming up, in fact. One of the Healers was examining her for any lingering effects, though I expect she will need to remain here a little while longer."

Harry threw off his blankets and sat over the edge of the bed. "Professor," he said, "I'd...like to be the one to tell her..."

Dumbledore paused for a moment near the door. "If you are quite certain, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry said resolutely as he slipped out of bed, his bare feet touching the cold floor.

"Harry," Hermione whispered as she caught Ron's arm, as he had stood and was getting ready to follow Harry out. "I...expect you'd rather be alone for this..."

He looked at her. She was staring at him with reddened eyes, her cheeks stained with dried tears.

He nodded slowly. "Thanks, Hermione."

It was chilly in only the hospital's gown, so he grabbed his cloak off the peg next to the wall. As he drew it on, he felt an unexpected weight in his inside pocket. Suddenly remembering the small glass sphere, he pulled it out and handed it to Dumbledore.

"Voldemort dropped this," he said tiredly. "When we were fighting. I thought it might be a portkey or something, but..."

Dumbledore held it up to his nose, inspecting it at length. "Interesting...indeed, most interesting. Dropped by Lord Voldemort, you say..."

Harry was about to ask if it was another Prophecy, but he didn't have the stomach to hear any more. He decided to leave it with the Headmaster and proceeded out.

He walked the short distance to the next room to find Luna sitting up in bed, Ginny and Neville occupying chairs and keeping her company. The sight of her alive and apparently well both exhilarated and disheartened him. He absolutely hated to bring her news that Lestrange had escaped, yet to let someone else do it while he sat comfortably in another room was unconscionable.

"Harry!" Neville said. Ginny snapped her head around at him. "Hey! It's sleepy head!"

"Hello Harry," Luna said, smiling at him dreamily.

"Hi," Harry said, giving a rather forced smile. "Um...listen...could I, er, have a minute alone..."

Ginny seemed to understand quickly, seeing his forlorn expression. "Sure, Harry," she said softly, taking a confused Neville by the arm and pulling him outside and closing the door behind her.

Luna gazed at him. "Harry, are you all right? You seem rather sad."

"Oh, I'm all right," he said. He hesitated a moment, not knowing wether to take a seat or to remain standing. Luna seemed to sense his indecision and make it easy for him.

"Here," she said, drawing up straighter in bed and moving her legs to make room for him.

He hesitated again. There were so many things going through his mind at the moment, he was finding it difficult knowing where to begin.

Luna gently patted the bed sheets. "I think we need to talk, Harry," she said solemnly.

He was startled by her tone; she wasn't at all dreamy. Rather, her voice and gaze were very serious. Harry sat down on the bed, having decided to let Luna have the first word.

Instead, she just stared at him in silence.

"Er..." Harry said. He'd thought she wanted to say something, though her silence now confused him.

She continued to stare. Large silver eyes fixed on his, unblinking, serious. Well, they couldn't just sit here in silence forever, so he decided a little prodding might help things along.

"What did you say we need to talk about?" he asked gently.

"I think you know," answered Luna. Her gaze was boring into him.

Harry swallowed hard. She sounded almost accusatory. He opened his mouth and tried to form words, but none came...

Luna sighed. "Well..." she said finally, "It's what that Lestrange lady said back in that house, Harry..."

Harry blinked. He thought back...

She hadn't said anything of note, so far as Harry could remember. And Luna...

Oh, wait, Harry thought, Luna had opened her eyes just after Lestrange had spoken...

Ooohh, you weally weally wuve this one, don't you, widdle baby Potter? she'd said.

Harry looked at Luna, large, unblinking silver eyes staring at him intently.

"I...remember," he said cautiously.

"Was it true?" she asked, her voice strangely doleful.

It was true, Harry now realized full well. But Luna's reaction was not what he'd expected; all the dreaminess and detachment that was so prevalent in the Ravenclaw had been suddenly stripped away, and he was no longer sure what to expect...dare he tell her?

"That grave, in your dream," said Luna softly. "The one you brought that rose for...that was mine, wasn't it?"

Harry felt his insides twisting and turning...this was not at all what he'd been expecting to deal with upon coming here...

"Is it true?" she asked again.

Harry looked at his feet and opened his mouth.

"Harry, look at me," said Luna.

He raised his eyes to hers and knew he couldn't lie, even though it could mean the end to their friendship, especially the way she was going on...

"Is it true?" she repeated once more in a whisper.

"Yes," he said finally, his voice sounding strange in his ears. "It's true, Luna..."

She stared at him in silence for several long, agonizing moments. She slowly drew back her blankets and came to sit next to him, her large silver eyes a mere hand's width from his. He thought he saw something glimmer in their silvery depths...

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" she asked softly.

Harry looked at her intently. Her expression was completely blank.

"I...I...didn't know..."

She tilted her head slightly as she looked at him. "No..." she said softly, looking thoughtful, "No, I don't suppose you did..."

He gaped at her. There was a definite twinkle now in her eyes; her mouth was having some trouble concealing a vestige of a smile. She leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder with an airy sigh.

"Well," she whispered, "I really could have been more observant also, I suppose. Ginny tried to tell me once but I thought she was being rather fantastical, you know."

"You...you're not mad?"

She let out a small giggle. "Some people rather think so, actually."

"Oh...I meant upset," he corrected.

"Well, upset that you didn't tell me, yes," she said, though her voice was now sprinkled with mirth.

"Sorry about that," Harry said.

"All is forgiven," Luna said melodiously.

Harry hesitantly drew a protective arm around her shoulders; but upon completing that move, he found it seemed so natural with Luna that it felt as though he'd been doing it for years.

She turned her head and looked up at him, his face reflected in her large silver eyes...

"WAIT! STOP!! DESIST!!" a powerful bellow suddenly reverberated throughout the small room as the door burst open to reveal the odd sight of the Headmaster rushing.

Harry was so startled that he involuntarily jumped, lost his balance and fell off the bed, landing on his backside, while Luna stared wide-eyed at the doorway.

"Oh," the Headmaster said as he glanced between the two of them, "Terribly sorry. Alas, I thought that I should interrupt before certain things were, er, said - "

"Merlin's beard!" Harry barked up at him. "You could've at least knocked!"

He noticed that Dumbledore was still holding the strange crystal sphere Harry had given him, though it no longer emitted any kind of glow.

"Yes, well," Dumbledore said apologetically, though for some reason there was a definite twinkle in his clear blue eyes, "There's a visitor for Miss Lovegood, you see Harry, and I thought it best that she see him posthaste."

With that, he moved from the doorway to reveal a tall man standing behind him, looking rather bewildered, Harry thought. He had sandy brown hair, hazel eyes and several days of dirty blonde stubble on his face, and a look of benign congeniality that reminded Harry of Arthur Weasley.

Harry had never seen him before in his life, but he knew instantly who this stranger was.

Luna's eyes widened into saucers.

"DADDY!!!" she squealed, leaping off her bed and running over to him, jumping up into his outstretched arms as he stumbled back against the door frame, squeezing her tightly.

"Snookums!" he cried, burying his face in her long, dirty blonde hair.

Ron and Hermione, who had followed him and Dumbledore into the room, glanced at each other.

Snookums? they silently mouthed at each other, eyebrows raised.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

Luna's father almost dropped her in his haste to put her down. "What's wrong?" he asked, grave concern etched on his face. "You're hurt?!"

But Luna was laughing, her silver eyes swimming in tears of mirth, one hand clutching her side. "It's...still...sore..." she said breathlessly in between fits of laughter.

Harry got to his feet. "Mister Lovegood?"

"Well, d'uh!" Ginny exclaimed, having just entered the room behind Ron and Hermione, Neville following close behind.

"That would be me," the man said. "Though I must confess I'm at something of a loss to explain how I came to get here."

"Have we ever got a story for you," Ginny said, jumping into one of the empty chairs.