You Call This A Holiday?

It was several minutes later when Luna realized her father was crouched beside her in the doorway, gently shaking her shoulder and speaking in an urgent tone. Had she passed out? Caught the tail-end of an unfamiliar malicious spell? Like shaking off the lingering vestiges of sleep, Luna struggled to clear her mind and make logical sense of the situation. She would not panic. She would not cause a scene. But she needed answers.

Then suddenly remembering the device Tonks had given her, she began rummaging around her robes to find it, inadvertently tuning out whatever her father was saying.

She found it in her pocket and immediately brushed her thumb across the center in a state of forced calm, just as Tonks had shown her. Her fingerprint left behind glowed blue, briefly and dimly in her hand. 'Tonks?' she choked out, her voice barely making a sound. She cleared her throat and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and tried again more clearly. 'Tonks? Are you there? Can you hear me?' There was no response from the small device. Resisting the urge to throw the useless thing at the wall in front of her sheerly out of frustration, she tucked it back inside her robes.

'They're gone.' Luna intended for it to be just a simple statement, but with the steadily increasing wateriness of her vision and the prickling sensation in the corners of her eyes, her uncertainty inflected the statement into a question.

Mr Lovegood had questions in his eyes that he couldn't bear to ask aloud. 'You've got to go back. You won't be safe here with me, Luna.'

'I know. I've got to go back down the street. Come with me!' she pleaded.

'How did you get to the street today? Who was your contact?'

'Hestia Jones. I don't know what the place is called.' Despite her growing feeling of panic, Luna was able to keep her emotions reined in. It was, after all, an emergency. A fine Ravenclaw she'd be if she lost her head in a crisis. The logical first step would be to get back to Headquarters immediately and alert the Order to what had happened.

'I know Hestia. Wonky sort of transportation thing she supervises. I'll get her on the Floo and see if it's safe. I don't want you out on the street.'

Father and daughter sprinted up the stairs to Mr Lovegood's office. Mr Lovegood cast Incendio into the cold grate, then grasped some Floo powder in his fist for the new flames while Luna tried not to notice the proud , smiling photographs of her late mother on the desk.

'Hestia Jones, Diagon Alley,' he announced clearly into the dancing flames.

Hestia's face appeared in the fire. 'Winston! This was certainly unexpected.'

'Hestia, we've got a major situation here,' he replied tersely.

Her face paled amid the bright flames. 'I get the feeling you're not talking about the magazine, Wince.'

He shook his head. 'There was an incident in the street. Ms Tonks and Hermione appear to be missing. Luna's here with me. Is it safe for her to Floo over to you so she can get back to Dumbledore and the others?'

'Just a minute!' Hestia Jones' face disappeared from the grate for momentarily, the flames flickered and turned an icy blue color. 'It'll only last a few minutes, but it's safer than taking the street. We'll need a full report as soon as you can have it, Winston.'

He nodded. 'Let me know if you need the Quibbler to take a different angle on anything.'

She quickly agreed. Mr Lovegood hugged and kissed his daughter once more before she stepped inside the fireplace.

Traveling by secure Floo was a new experience for Luna. It wasn't nearly as disorientating an experience as through the regular Floo network - the smoke and ashes didn't affect her eyes or nose, nor was she dizzy upon coming out at the other grate. Hestia was there waiting for her to emerge, dusting soot off the hem of her robes.

'Dear child! How on earth could this have happened?' Luna took it to be a rhetorical question and did not reply. 'I'm waiting for a car to bring you back, dearie. Shouldn't be long.'

In the meantime, she contacted number 12 Grimmauld Place. The fire was empty for what seemed like an extraordinarily long time, Luna becoming more and more agitated with every second that went past without answer. Finally, after only about a minute or two, the head of Remus Lupin could be made out in the fire, his tired face lined with concern. 'Hestia, please tell me this is just a routine call.'

She shook her head regretfully. 'I don't have the full details yet, Remus, but Dora and Hermione are gone. Could be an abduction. Luna's safe, she was visiting her father. I'm waiting on a car now to get her back to you.'

Lupin closed his eyes and bit his lip, bowing his head. 'Have the driver walk her to the door. I'll be waiting to let her in.' He nodded once to Hestia and the fireplace was empty once more.

The sound of a car horn echoed around the room. 'That's your ride, dear,' said Hestia, taking Luna by the hand. An empty bench along the wall had a sign flashing Number 3: VACANT above it. Luna was ushered to the bench quickly and Hestia announced the destination into thin air. Luna felt pressure forcing her back into the bench and her vision dimmed with multicolored stars as the room around her dissolved into nothingness.

*****

Hermione struggled to regain consciousness. Her whole body felt stiff and sore, and her eyes felt like they were glued shut. She had a splitting headache and only felt vaguely uncomfortable upon the realization that she couldn't move her limbs.

Have I been drugged? she thought dazedly before attempting to roll over on to her side. She groaned at the unexpected pain. How stupid. Why would anyone drug a witch? Her thoughts muddied as another pulse of pain throbbed across her brain. She was dimly aware of a shuffling or scraping sound nearby before she drifted back into unconsciousness.

*****

When the car stopped moving Luna was able to clear the dark vision of blinking stars from her mind. She was pale and shaky, so the burly driver assisted her up the steps to the house, which expanded into view as they watched Lupin step out between numbers 11 and 13. His tired body, tensed in anxiety, stood in sharp relief against the ominously cracked and peeling clapboard of number 12. He grasped her carefully as soon as she placed a foot on the step and permitted the driver to leave. Silently he ushered Luna into the house, which had taken on the mood of a funeral parlor.

The occupants of the house were all waiting in the hallway by the door as they reemerged, Lupin's grave expression setting the tone for all. Molly Weasley drifted in beside Luna with a cup of hot chocolate and insisted that she sit down. The crowd moved into the lounge where Luna was immediately propped up in Ginny's favorite armchair at the center of attention.

Luna knew they were waiting for her to say something, but she couldn't seem to make her lips move. Wide-eyed, she looked around the room as she took a careful sip of her hot chocolate. Ron turned away from the rest of the people gathered around her, fiercely rubbing at his eyes with his fists. Luna choked on the bubble in her throat because she suspected that she was the only one who knew about Ron and Hermione's feelings for each other. Poor Ronald, she thought sadly, he's falling apart.

Neville looked more composed than Luna had expected and Ginny appeared to be more alert than almost any time in the past few days. All of a sudden Luna realized who was obviously missing from the gathering.

'Where's Dumbledore?'

'He left with Mad Eye and some of the others to get Harry,' Ginny piped up, her eyes shining with half-formed tears. 'He said we couldn't afford to leave him alone now.' The tears broke free and spilled down over her cheeks but she made no move to wipe them. She stood up abruptly, crossed the room and crawled up into the chair with Luna, sobbing. Hugging her friend close she wept 'Where are they?'

Luna felt her chest constrict before she finally sighed 'I don't know'. Somehow with that small confession she was able to explain what she had seen for the group, especially the glowing dome of sparks and light which had consumed them, and surmised that it must have been some intense spell of unknown origin. Her captive audience gazed dumbstruck at her as she described the paralyzing sensation she felt when in view of the spectacle and of how even at a distance it robbed her of energy and common sense.

Lupin drew in a sharp intake of breath and frowned upon hearing that. 'How did the rest of the street react afterwards, Luna?'

Her face went blank as she tried to recreate the scene in her mind. Then with startling realization it dawned on her that there was no reaction. She hadn't seen anyone else from the alleyway while it was happening, nor did she hear any shrieks of panic or any indication whatsoever that there was some form of disorder on the street. She said this to Lupin.

'Dumbledore will have to hear about this as soon as they get back with Harry.' He took a steadying breath and announced regretfully 'We've never come up against something of this nature before. I don't know where we should start. However-' he paused briefly, 'I hope I'm not being overly optimistic, but I suspect they're both okay. For the time being at least.'

'How can you say that, Remus?' demanded Ron bitterly, staring at Lupin angrily. 'You don't have any idea where they've gone! How can you just suspect that they're okay? They're not okay! They're not here!'

'Ron, from what Luna has told us, I think it's a fair estimate. If Voldemort or a Death Eater went through the trouble of trapping them with powerful Dark magic like that, I'd say the chances are in our favor that they haven't been significantly harmed,' Lupin explained quietly.

Ron looked utterly ashamed of himself and didn't even flinch when Lupin said Voldemort's name out loud. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . . you know. I just . . .' he shrugged his shoulders heavily as if he were bearing the weight of the world on them.

'It's okay, Ron,' Lupin assured him, 'I'm sure all our tensions are running high now.'

The group fell silent again. Mrs Weasley tenderly wrapped her arm around Ron's shoulder and he did not turn away. Ginny sat with her feet curled up under her in the chair, hugging Luna as if afraid she might drift away, while wordlessly staring out the window. Luna shifted her gaze often, afraid to make eye contact with anyone, feeling that somehow she had let everyone down. Neville sat on the floor, looking up at Luna even though she looked away, wishing he, too, could hold her close to his body like Ginny was, silently affirming in his mind it wasn't your fault.

*****

'Good afternoon. May I please see Harry Potter? I am afraid it is quite urgent.'

'What do you want with the boy? In some kind of trouble, I expect.'

'Mr Dursley, I assure you that Harry is not immediately in any trouble, as you say, but he is in grave danger.'

'Sorry! He's not here. Different house altogether. Good day!'

'Who's at the door, Dad?'

'Nobody, Dudley. Wrong address; run along now!'

'My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School. Dudley, is it? Would you be so kind as to fetch your cousin for me?'

'Oi! Squint-Eyes! Somebody wants you at the door!'

'Professor Dumbledore, sir!'

'Hello Harry.'

'What's wrong, sir? I though I wasn't supposed to leave Privet Drive for another week at least.'

'Ah Harry. It is unfortunate that I must be the bearer of some most unfortunate news. I cannot say anything here, but there has been a serious breach of security.'

'Sir, what happened? Is everyone okay?'

'Calm down, my dear boy. I promise I will tell you everything we know in a few minutes time, but it is important that you hurry. Please pack up your things and make haste. I am afraid we may not have much time.'

'Not more of those dementy-whatzits again, now is it? I won't stand for any more of that rubbish affecting my family!'

'Rest assure, Mr Dursley, that your family is perfectly safe. Only Harry may be still in danger while he is here; we are taking him to where he will be safe, and we will leave you to your own safety. Ah, good, Harry. All set then? Mad Eye, Kingsley and Ms Vance are waiting outside. Hands full? Perhaps Mad Eye could carry your owl?'

'I'd prefer to carry his trunk.'

'Splendid. Thank you, Mr Dursley for being so patient. Please give my regards to your wife. It was a pleasure to meet you, Dudley. Good day.'

*****

Tonks shifted around on her back, eyes wide attempting to peer into the darkness surrounding her. What the bloody hell have I gotten us into? she wondered, painfully aware of the absolute silence enveloping her. Bugger! My hands and feet are tied up! Think, Tonks, think. You're an accomplished Auror; you can find a way out of this. She didn't even know if Hermione was nearby or not, but she was determined to figure it out. Assuming that her wand was long gone, she focused on trying to loosen her binds on her wrist, which proved to be more difficult than she had anticipated. There has to be a way! she thought determinedly, struggling with the apparent combination muggle/magical alloy which restrained her. The more she tried to move and attempt to weaken the ties, the tighter they seemed to grow around her wrists. It was nothing like anything she had encountered either in training or in the field, and it frustrated her. Deciding to spare her energy, Tonks gave up her cause temporarily, choosing instead to lie still in the oppressive dark and formulate a plan.

*****

Hermione awoke as suddenly as if an alarm had been ringing beside her head but wherever she was, it was completely silent. Relieved to find that her head was no longer throbbing in pain, she strained her head and neck in an attempt to survey her environment. Immediately she found her hands and feet bound, and it suddenly made sense as to why she was completely immobile. She couldn't get a good look at the devices which held her but it didn't matter much. Despite having read practically half the Hogwarts library and more, there was surprisingly nothing in her experience which detailed how to free oneself from restraints.

I wish George or Fred were here was her despondent thought, since they knew more about locks and breaking things than anyone else she knew. Impulsively she bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut in mental anguish as the thought of the twins reminded her of Ron, which was the most painful thought at a time when she was bound and helpless in captivity.

She took a few deep breaths and tried to clear her mind. Knowing that her limbs would be more than useless if she didn't use them, she flexed the muscles in her arms and legs, wriggling fingers and toes to ensure that they might be operable if she managed to get free. When I get free she mentally corrected her defeatist attitude. It wouldn't make sense for someone to abduct me if I'm only going to lie in this room indefinitely. If someone's gone through the trouble to get me, what would they want with me? The obvious notion of a grisly death was the last thing Hermione wished to entertain, but there was no sense in ignoring the possibility. Silently she hoped that her end wouldn't come to that.

She looked about the small room she found herself in. More like a box than a room, except that it had one single heavy oak door on the wall opposite of where she lay. There was no other furniture in the room, save for that which she lay on - not really a bed or a couch. It was stiff, but not wholly uncomfortable. Craning her neck, she inspected the device she reclined upon out of curiosity, straining her eyes in the dark. Somewhat surprised, Hermione believed it was an old-fashioned chaise-lounge.

She eased her neck again and mused in wonderment as to where she could be. What kind of prisoner was she if she was (presumably) unharmed, and being held captive in an apparently posh, although bare, prison? It didn't make any sense. As she attempted to puzzle it out, them memory of the ambush, or whatever it was, on Diagon Alley started to come back to her with wavering clarity. She knew she and Tonks weren't alone there when it happened, but who else was there?

'Oh no!' she whispered plaintively in the darkness. 'Where's Tonks?'

Panic began to spread throughout her body at the realization that she truly was alone. Initially upon realizing she appeared safe but in strange surroundings, she had overlooked the fact that Tonks didn't appear to be with her any longer.

'Tonks?' Hermione whispered timidly, hoping for any response, but receiving none. 'Tonks!' A single tear ran down her face as the realization set in that she was utterly alone and completely helpless.

Without warning a candle lit up nearby the door, bathing the room in an eerie glow. Hermione couldn't remember seeing a candle there, but there it was nonetheless. Getting a better view of her 'accommodations', she took in the rich burgundy color of the walls, ominously close to the color of dried blood. The ceiling was painted the same rich color, giving Hermione the impression of being enclosed in a decadent prison.

As she lay contemplating the gravity of her plight, Hermione was startled by the squeaking of the thick oak door swinging inward. An old woman in plain black robes stamped into the room pushing a highly polished mahogany cart, set with a full dinner service for one. The sight of the cart set for dinner reminded Hermione of how hungry she was. How long had she been passed out? Her stomach rumbled audibly and the old woman stared at her with marked distaste in her cold eyes.

'If Master's guest would like to take her dinner, I shall unbind her wrists and ankles.'

Hermione stared at her in disbelief. Master's guest? The woman now showed no interest in Hermione, who had not uttered a single word, too stunned by the announcement. As the cart began to turn toward the door again, Hermione croaked humbly through dry lips 'Yes please; I would like to have something to eat.'

'Very well.' The woman turned toward her again and held a sheet of parchment out for her to read. It was a menu. Limited and not particularly hardy, but still there were choices. Baffled but still undeniably grateful, she indicated a preference for beef broth over chicken, a slice of whole wheat toast instead of white, and a pitcher of water, passing over the option of red or white wine.

The severe-looking woman stepped back from Hermione and tapped the menu several times with a wand she produced from her pocket, each tap bringing the item into existence on the cart.

'Tea or coffee for dessert?' she inquired shrewdly.

'Erm. No thank you,' Hermione replied weakly, afraid any caffeine might keep her awake later on when it might be far more beneficial to sleep.

Hermione was advised to hold out her hands and feet, and under oath not to try and run away, she was free of her restraints. She rubbed her wrists and was unceremoniously handed a solid silver soupspoon.

All throughout the minimal meal the old witch watched Hermione like a hawk for any signs that she might attempt to break loose. She needn't have bothered - Hermione was far too tired and sore to try to make a run for it, besides the fact that she had no idea where she was, nor where to find help.

When she had finished, the old witch magicked her back into the restraints.

'Erm - what about when I need to go to the loo?' Hermione asked sheepishly.

In complete silence the old witch's look of disgust and disdain deepened and she pointed the tip of her wand at Hermione. Instantly she felt relieved as if she had just been to the toilet. The old witch turned once again to push the cart out through the door once more, and turned to the tiny candle burning on the wall.

'Could you please leave it burning?' Hermione pleaded meekly with her in a small voice, a look of desperation in her eyes at the prospect of being left alone once more. The old witch said nothing but nonetheless left the candle alone as she shut the door behind her.