Twelve Dark Moons

Chapter Three

Shield of Wings

The first thing Luna was conscious of was pain. It was all over her body, sore and cramping and tense. At first she thought the rope bindings still held her tight against herself, but after a second Luna realised she was free to move. This she did with hesitation, and took a quick inventory of her fingers, toes, and limbs. All seemed intact.

Her eyes opened. Darkness swam in front of her, but this too resolved into vague shadows: a wall, a ceiling, both made of stone. A wooden chair in the corner. The floor upon which she lay was hard-packed dirt. Luna sat up gingerly, feeling the rips and tatters of her clothes from the pursuit through the forest. She was not in France anymore, her intuition told her. There were no windows in the room, but a thin sliver of light came through beneath a wooden door. Luna focused on this light. It was golden as from candles or witch-lights. Something about it was reassuring, yet Luna did not want to be illuminated quite yet. To be illuminated was to be given attention, and Death Eater attention was usually fatal.

Something scuttled in the corner, and Luna whirled her head toward the sound, a little too fast. Nausea overtook her, and she rubbed her hands on her temples, focusing on the crack of light beneath the door. It steadied her, and Luna listened for the noise again. It was probably a rat, or perhaps a large spider. Not nice, but not frightening either. The thought of creatures reminded Luna of Abacus: was he all right? She hoped he had not been hurt. Thestrals had their own way, and could be quite vicious in self-defence, so maybe he'd gotten away.

When she felt strong enough, Luna stood up and felt her way around the cell, taking note of four solid walls and the one wall with a door. There was not much else to it. The chair in the corner, and a small hole in the ground as a privy, unused from the smell of it. It was a small measure of comfort that the Death Eaters did not have overcrowded dungeons.

Luna sat on the cold dirt floor and regarded her situation with a cool mind. She had been captured; that much was obvious. She remembered being trapped by the ropes, and someone laughing. They must have cast a spell on her, for she had blacked out. But was she whisked away by Apparation immediately? Or did her capture mean that the Order of the Phoenix had lost their battle? Luna suspected she'd been taken right away, since she was subdued and it would only take one Death Eater. She hoped the Order had captured twenty Death Eaters in the meantime.

An inventory of her person revealed that her wand had been taken from her, of course, along with the miniaturised satchel in her pocket, the other Death Eater's wand from the battle, and her little bag of mouth-mints. The silver skull medallion remained around her neck, however, and for that she was grateful.

She did not know for how long she sat there with her back up against the wall. Luna did some strengthening stretches to enhance her magical power, as her mother had experimented with at one time. That was one experiment that worked, in Luna's opinion. She rearranged her clothing, tying it in strategic knots and re-working her cloak into a sort of wrap dress. It gave her something to do, waiting there in the semi-darkness.

Her stomach growled, and Luna looked down at it, shocked. She could not remember ever feeling truly hungry, aside from that time when she was fifteen and was so caught up with a gingerbread castle project that she'd forgotten to eat for three days. Then her father had placed a large plate of shepherd's pie in front of her and she'd realised she was famished. This time, Luna recalled eating a scone, an apple, and some sweets right before heading out with Neville into the Beauxbatons forest. It made her wonder how long she'd blacked out; a couple of days, if her stomach was growling.

Someone was neglecting her, here in the Death Eater dungeons.

Just as she had the thought, Luna saw a shadow in the crack of light. A pair of feet stopped in front of the door. She watched and waited. The door swung open and Luna instinctively put her hand up to shield her dilated eyes from the sudden glare of light.

'Get up,' said the figure that stood in the doorway.

Luna saw no reason to disobey. She did not judge situations until she had full knowledge of them. Until there was reason or opportunity to fight back, Luna would relax. So, she stood with the aid of leaning against the wall, and stepped forward.

The dark figure reached out and grabbed her by the elbow, shoving her out the door into a well-lit corridor. It was here that Luna got a good look at the person, and she gasped out loud. It was Vincent Crabbe, that Slytherin boy a year above her at Hogwarts. He was as large as ever, hulking in dark rough-spun robes.

'Hi,' said Luna.

Crabbe glowered at her out of his fleshy face. 'Come on,' he said. 'Your magic is shackled down here, so don't try anything.'

'Is it?' Luna asked. She had not noticed. But then, she had not tried any spells, not even wandless magic. She walked along behind Crabbe's form, peering at the other doors in the corridor. They were all like hers: wooden and closed. It was impossible to tell if they contained prisoners or just empty cells. 'Where are we?' she asked Crabbe.

'We ask the questions around here, not you,' Crabbe grumbled. 'You'll be screaming for mercy soon.'

To Luna, it sounded like Crabbe tried to make routine an inhumanity: the torture of other people, former classmates. She felt sorry for Crabbe. He was probably in over his head, and would not know how to get out of being a Death Eater if he tried. But did this mean they would torture her for information? Most likely.

They reached a stone staircase and climbed up. Luna kept her ears open for other sounds, but the air felt thick and heavy, as though filled with Silencing charms. She let her hands trail along the narrow walls, feeling out the terror and pain that resided in the stones. This was not a good place.

At the top of the stairs was another heavy wooden door, and it creaked open for them, manned by a hunched-over wizard whose hooded cloak concealed the face. Luna did not look too closely. They were in a place with windows now, a long paneled wood hallway. The windows were drawn shut with dark velvet curtains, but it was nice to know there was some glass nearby. It meant things did not get too violent up here.

Crabbe led Luna along until they reached the appropriate doorway, and Crabbe knocked three times.

'Enter,' said a voice from within.

Then Luna was pushed into the room, and she stumbled a little. The room held a single chair in the middle of it, and to the side stood a man cloaked in the standard-issue Death Eater black. It was Severus Snape.

'Professor Snape!' Luna said.

He did not acknowledge her except by a twist of his thin mouth. 'Leave us,' he said to Crabbe. Luna heard the door snap shut behind her, leaving her alone with the professor she had not seen in over two years.

'Miss Lovegood,' said Snape. 'Sit down.'

'Do I have to?' she asked.

'Yes,' he snapped.

'All right,' Luna said, meek. She took a seat in the hard wooden chair. 'Where am I?'

Snape looked at her for a moment. 'It doesn't matter,' he said. 'I ask the questions.'

Luna nodded. Ever since Harry reported that Snape had murdered Headmaster Dumbledore, no one in the Order had seen nor heard from the malcontent professor. It was acknowledged that his true colours belonged with Voldemort, and now Luna could see that Snape worked as the chief interrogator. She thought it was a good job for him; even as a professor, Snape had a way of worming the truth out of errant students. She almost told him so, but some dark thing in his eyes stilled her tongue.

'Now, will you tell me the truth? Or will I need to resort to other techniques?' He brought out a small vial of some potion. Luna deciphered it to be Veritaserum.

'I'll answer as best I can,' she said. And she would, as long as her answers never betrayed the Order.

Snape smiled, but he did not have the kind of features suited for smiling. On him it looked like a grimace. 'Very well. How many of the Order were at Beauxbatons?'

'I don't know,' said Luna. 'We were split up into separate teams. I was with Neville Longbottom, and we took our orders from Mad-Eye Moody.' It was a partial truth, but Luna did not want to reveal how many Order members were there, lest the Death Eaters extrapolate the true number of their ranks.

'I think you're lying,' said Snape. 'You know how many there were. Miss Lovegood, I'll only say this once: tell the truth.' He brought out his wand, and Luna stared at it.

'Eighteen,' she said.

'That's better. What was your task?'

'Walk through the woods, and try not to get caught,' Luna said. She shrugged. 'I guess that didn't work out. But I saw some nice trees. And did you know about the dragons? You would know, I suppose. But still, I didn't know dragons could be trained to fly in formation like that!'

Snape sighed, sounding exasperated. 'Try to focus, Miss Lovegood. Was there any other purpose to your mission at Beauxbatons?'

'No,' she said, honestly.

'Was Potter there?'

Luna shook her head. 'I don't know where he was.'

'Really,' said Snape, sounding as though he did not believe her. He brought his wand to bear against the skin of her throat, and Luna gulped. 'Where was Potter?'

'I don't know!' she said. Desperation crept into her voice. Her former potions teacher wouldn't harm her, would he? In this upside-down world, Luna could no longer be sure of anything.

Then, with sudden violence, Snape grabbed her by the jaw and forced her mouth open. He poured a cool liquid down her throat and Luna felt an instant calm, white, fuzziness come over her. She felt like talking.

'Where was Potter?'

'Probably snogging Ginny Weasley,' said Luna. 'They're going together, you know. That's why they sent me to get the unicorn hairs.'

'Unicorn hairs?' Snape asked.

'Yep,' said Luna. 'I was the only one still a virgin. Hermione sure isn't. And Ginny isn't. Although, they could have sent Neville, unless you count making love to plants.'

Snape made a strangled noise, and his face turned a funny colour. Luna stared at him. 'What's the matter?' she asked.

'Nothing,' he said. 'Were Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger on the team at Beauxbatons?'

'No,' said Luna, feeling warmth deep in her chest. It was like having a lot of butterbeer, she mused. She tilted her head back and forth, enjoying the slight spinning of Snape's figure in front of her. Were there three of him?

'Where were Granger and Weasley?'

'Probably with Harry. They had an important mission, Hermione said.'

'What kind of mission?'

'I don't know,' Luna said. 'They never tell us anything, in case we're captured.' Then she giggled. 'Like me!'

'Where is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix?'

Luna wanted to say Twelve Grimmauld Place, but it stuck on her tongue. The Veritaserum warred with the Fidelius Charm, and only incoherent syllables came out of her mouth.

'Never mind,' said Snape, waving his hand. 'Have you received any strange orders as part of your duties?'

Luna began to babble. 'Oh, yes. Once I had to baby-sit some crazy old Muggle woman named Amy. I thought she was interesting, though. And then there was the time that Draco Malfoy was there, and my job was to talk to him, because he wouldn't speak to Harry and vice versa. Draco Malfoy wasn't a nice person, and he said I looked loony, like my name. And then there was the thing about artefacts.'

'Artefacts?' Snape asked, a sharp edge in his voice.

'Anything to do with the founders of Hogwarts, we're supposed to keep an eye out for. Not sure why, though. I think maybe it was Ron Weasley's idea; maybe it's to sell them in his brothers' shop!'

Snape leaned back on his heels and whistled through his teeth. The sound penetrated Luna's consciousness, and some of the warm fuzzy feeling began to fade. 'Professor Snape?' she asked.

'Listen to me, Miss Lovegood,' he knelt in front of her. 'You are the only Order member we captured three nights ago.'

Luna blinked. Had she been out of it for three days? She hoped that, somewhere, her friends were worried about her.

'As such,' Snape continued, 'you are perceived to be close to Potter and the others. I am not the only one who will ask you questions.'

By now, the Veritaserum had worn off, and Luna realised what she had told the former professor. Had she given away much? She hoped not. 'Why are you telling me this?' she asked Snape.

'It is no good to try to conceal anything from him,' Snape sighed. 'How many artefacts have they found? Do you know?'

'I know a few,' Luna admitted.

'That's what I was afraid of,' said Snape. 'But there is no helping it now. You will tell the Dark Lord what you have told me. He might be merciful with you, he might not. It is out of my hands now.'

Luna stared at Snape, at his cold expression. 'I'll bet you wash your hands every night and they never feel clean,' she said.

Snape's eyes widened for a split second. 'What?' he whispered.

'I don't think you're bad,' said Luna, and it was true. For all Professor Snape's acerbic manner, she had enjoyed his classes and learned a lot. She had observed that Snape had many sides to him and none were what they seemed. Somewhere inside was the real man, and Luna felt sorry for him, too.

'You're a naïve little girl,' Snape said. 'But you're about to learn true evil, as we all must.' He sneered at her. 'May the Dark Arts preserve you.' He said it as a prayer, an all-hail to a vengeful universe. Snape left the room then, slamming the door behind him.

On the off-chance that the door was open, Luna tried it, but it was locked. She doubted that a simple 'Alohamora' charm would work, even if she had her wand. Instead, she contented herself with counting the number of floorboards, and then braiding one side of her hair. She was halfway through the second braid when the door flung open and an unfamiliar Death Eater stepped inside.

It was an older man with a cruel face. He chuckled at her. 'Now you meet the Dark Lord,' he said. 'Let's go.'

Luna did not think she scared easily, but right now her feet were leaden and would not move forward. She shook her head back and forth.

'Come on!' the Death Eater said. He brought out his wand and said 'Imperio.'

A dread calm settled over Luna, worse than the compulsion of Veritaserum, soft and dark. She walked forward, following the Death Eater, but then her mind started to wander. Even under the Imperius Curse, Luna found it hard to focus on one thing, such as following orders. As though under its own strange direction, her mind slipped out from under the curse, and she smiled to herself. During their Defence lessons in post-Hogwarts training, Mad-Eye Moody had declared that Luna was too crazy to be put under the Imperius for long, and this exercise proved it.

However, it did not do Luna very much good, for another Death Eater joined them from behind, and the trio of prisoner and guards climbed a grand staircase up to another story. Looking around, Luna decided they were in a great manor house, somewhat dilapidated as though undergoing magical renovation. She wondered if it was the Riddle House, which Harry had described to the Order. It made sense for Lord Voldemort to use it as his headquarters, just as Harry used the inherited house from Stubby Boardman.

The upstairs of the house was nicer, and Luna looked around at the wall-mounted candles with their dripping white wax, and the new quartz crystal doorknobs on the fine carved doors. Quartz crystal could be used as part of strong magical wards, so Luna was unsurprised to find it here.

They reached a pair of double doors, and the elder Death Eater tapped his wand with three soft knocks.

'Come in,' issued a high, cold voice. Luna shivered.

All she saw at first was the back of a tall armchair. Then her eyes found the great snake coiled by a fireplace, hissing a black forked tongue at her. The armchair lifted up into the air and in a slow, sinister motion it turned, inch-by-inch, until the occupant faced the door.

Luna stared, terrified. She felt a lump in her throat, threatening to burst into tears, but she could not move. Every inch of her felt cold, cast into ice by the glittering red eyes that now regarded her. Luna felt even her eyelashes quake in fear, and she blinked rapidly, trying to clear her head.

Lord Voldemort in the flesh was far worse than Luna might have imagined. His thin frame was folded into the chair, and his hands dangled off the armrests, deceptive in their relaxation. His face was captivating and horrible: an ascetic carving in white, a deformed remembrance of the man he might have been. But it was Voldemort's eyes which drew Luna's attention. They glinted like crimson gems, penetrating her consciousness, and she could not escape them.

'Kneel,' whispered Voldemort.

Luna did not move, and he lifted a finger, and she felt herself tugged inexorably down until she was on her knees before the Dark Lord. By the fireplace, she heard that big snake hissing away.

It happened in slow motion, and Luna believed for a moment that she was in a nightmare. It couldn't be real, none of it. This was her imagination at work. And Voldemort brought out his wand, and said the incantation. 'Crucio.'

The pain slammed all awareness from her mind, icy hot waves of torment that wracked her into spasms. It was a wild scream, a lament against her body, and it lasted for eternity. There was nothing outside this torture, no life before or after. She forgot her own name. Little devils with sharp pokers raced along her skin, and every muscle clamped down in agony from the inside out. Her nerves quivered and danced like marionettes to the order of pain. Was someone laughing?

It ended abruptly, although it took several seconds for Luna to realise it. She gasped like a landed fish, sucking in air that seared her lungs in its pleasure. She was on hands and knees, staring down at a wood floor, her hair hanging in her face. Luna felt betrayed by life. This was not supposed to happen to her; did not her innocence protect her?

'That was a mere taste,' said a voice, smooth and steady against the chaotic whirl of Luna's brain.

She looked up through the strands of fair hair. It came back to her; she was a captive, taken by the Death Eaters, and now she was before Lord Voldemort himself. She shut her mouth and fell back into a sitting position. As a reflex, Luna reached up to twist her fingers into the partial braid of hair she'd begun earlier.

'You will talk now,' said Voldemort. He raised a hand and Luna felt herself slide forward on the floor until she was mere inches from the white creature. Voldemort grasped her jaw, and his fingers were cold as he raised her head to look at him.

The next invasion was the worst of all, for it was Luna's mind that was ripped apart. Voldemort rampaged through her head, skimming through every thought and memory. Luna let out a moan of dread as he discovered her theory that there was a spy in his camp, an insect Animagus that buzzed around his head and took down his orders. Now, thought Luna, all the bugs the Death Eaters found would be killed. It would be an insect massacre and it was Luna's fault.

All else was open to Voldemort, too; her father's home, the memories of her mother's death, the years of teasing at school, and the workings of the Order, the instructions to be on the lookout for magical artefacts. At this last, Luna felt Voldemort release her, and he leaned back with an expression of shrewd not-quite-surprise.

'What is your name?' he asked.

Luna's tongue felt wooden, but she was compelled to respond. 'L-Luna Lovegood.'

'You may address me as 'my Lord,'' Voldemort said.

Luna said it, loathing the sound. 'My Lord.'

'You have a unique mind,' Voldemort said.

She stared at him. That was exactly what the Hogwarts Sorting Hat had said, when she was eleven years old and sitting on the three-legged stool in front of the Great Hall.

'Alas,' Voldemort said, 'you are not for this world any longer.' From the front of his robes he procured something Luna recognised: her own wand. 'Leave us,' he said to the two Death Eaters still standing in the doorway.

Luna glanced back at them, almost sorry to see them go. It occurred to her that she was about to die. It had come to this, her life: she would be murdered by an evil Dark Lord at the age of twenty. Would her life flash before her eyes? Would she see her mother on the other side? The inevitability left Luna strangely blank, unafraid of what was to come.

'I need a bit of sport,' said Voldemort. He sighed and it sounded like boredom bred by unexpressed whimsy. 'So, I'm going to give you a rare chance. We shall duel.' He laughed; it was more of a hysterical giggle, without humour. He handed Luna her wand and then stood, swift and efficient in his movements, and walked over to the other side of the room. 'Stand up,' he ordered Luna.

She stood and took a few steps back. It would have been better for Voldemort to kill her defenceless. That way Luna might not feel responsible for her own demise. This duel would just make her feel inadequate, and Luna did not want to die feeling down on herself.

At the last second, Luna decided what to do. She would not rise to Voldemort's bait. She would die on her terms, in her way.

'On three,' said Voldemort, the hysteria still in his voice. He bowed to her, she to him.'Three, two, one. Duel!'

'Pario!' Luna said with firm intent. Out of her wand erupted butterflies, hundreds of them, thousands of them, in all shapes and sizes and colours: white, yellow, blue, pink, black, red and orange with patterns on their fluttering wings. The cloud of butterflies surrounded Luna, and swept around her in a tornado of soft silk.

'Avada Kedavra!' she heard Voldemort shout from beyond the cloud, but Luna was no longer disturbed. She smiled, looking around her at the beautiful flying things, heedless of the jet of green light that sped towards her.