Mad Snorkacks and Englishmen

A/N: Hello, again! Hope everyone had a lovely holiday season. So, obviously, my little experiment failed miserably and I apologize for the long, long delay to the ending of this chapter. It proved more difficult than I anticipated, and the timing was hectic.



By the end of February, I will have spent a year writing this fic, which is pretty trippy for me. In realizing this, I resolved to finish the story before that time arrives, so I have renewed my dedication and vigor in the writing of this little alternate fiction of mine. You can expect to see an update at least every week from now until it is finished. I have just over a month to complete this and about eight, possibly ten, chapters to go, so it will be interesting trying to make my time limit.



The first part is still intact, not many changes, but I will be curious to see what you readers think of my Draco. He was kind of tough for me to get a handle on. I want to thank SoftObsidian and eevilalice for their notes and encouragement. We'll be hearing more from Draco in the coming chapters.













Chapter 32: Rub ‘til It Bleeds









“Are you sure it’s ‘round here, Harry?”





They had been trekking through forest for over an hour and Ron felt a little lost; the area unfamiliar to him though he knew the Burrow was near. He was reminded of the times his brothers would take him for hikes during the summer afternoons of his youth. His mum was always insisting they stay within sight of the house, but George and Fred would make a day of it; taking him over hill and dale until Ron had felt like they were visiting another town, or another country, even, as the terrain changed around them. Walking around the same landscape with Hermione and Harry, but seeing strange trees loom up and winding paths going who knows where on their journey brought Ron back to that sense of wonder he’d experienced as a child that there could be so much just beyond his backyard.





“Yeah, I know where I’m going,” Harry mumbled. They’d Disapparated to a clear spot just outside of the train tracks which led into the center of town and had switched to Harry’s lead once Ron had gotten them halfway. Looking to the horizon, Ron thought he could make out a strange peak up ahead. A cold gust of wind whipped his hair around his face as he narrowed his eyes to discern more detail.



“I think I saw a little creek back there still frozen over. Did you ever go swimming there, Ron, during summers?” Hermione was almost jogging in order to keep up with the two boys’ long strides and her voice was slightly out of breath.





“There are a few watering holes in the area that we used to play in, yeah, but I don’t know if that’s one of them. Everything looks different under snow,” he said distractedly. He stopped to scan the skyline again and noticed that the odd shape peaking through the grassy highlands looked man-made as they got closer, like a chimney or a turret to a castle. He was surprised he’d never seen it before.





“What do you think that weird stone up ahead is?” he asked, more to himself than to his companions.





“It’s Luna’s house.” Harry’s answer was curt as he strode on ahead of them. Ron gaped back to Hermione who looked as puzzled by the bizarre structure as him. He continued to follow Harry determinedly, however, until they came up to the top of the hill and had a clearer view of the building. It jutted heavenward atop the next hill over like a beacon, the stone black as soot.





“It’s a rook,” Ron laughed. “How funny is that?”





Hermione made a face. “A rook? What are you on about? That doesn’t remotely look like a crow.” Ron snorted at her confusion.





“Nah, I mean the rook on a chess board, like a small castle. It’s totally cylindrical. Is it like that inside, Harry, or is there magic to make the rooms appear bigger?”





Harry came to an abrupt stop and turned back to them, his face impassive. “I’ve only been in her room, at the top of the house. It wasn’t magically enhanced but there weren’t any corners.” He cocked one eyebrow. “It was pretty cool, actually. Like we were in our own little bubble.” Then Harry fell quiet again as he waited for them to catch up.





“Wicked,” Ron breathed as he glanced over it once more while slowing down to a halt. His gaze fell to Harry as he inspected the boy carefully for any signs of stress. He knew his friend was nervous about the meeting, he’d been increasingly edgy all morning, but there seemed to be a calm now that had permeated his frame as though Harry had accepted his fate and was resigned to the outcome. Ron still worried that his instincts about Mr. Lovegood might be completely off-base and that the man might not take kindly to Harry’s appearance near his daughter. He could only hope that things would go smoothly and that they wouldn’t have to be there for very long. He looked back over his shoulder for a moment to see if he could catch a glimpse of the Burrow from this vantage point. Ron felt his longing for home as acutely as the sun on his face. He saw nothing to indicate his beloved house was in the distance, however, his family just out of reach. Then he took hold of Hermione’s hand and the trio made their way down the first hill; running at a quick clip as the gravity dragged them downward.





“Now, remember, let me do the talking, Harry.”





Hermione put her hand to Harry’s shoulder and made him look her in the face as they approached the small gate leading to the front door. He gave a deep sigh but then nodded once in agreement while he stared at the ground. Ron patted his friend’s back a few times and then took hold of his neck affectionately as he pulled him near, murmuring in Harry’s ear that it would all be okay. They had decided how it would best go down this morning during breakfast and Ron had continued to back Hermione up in her assessments. Both he and Hermione wanted to keep Harry as safe as possible, emotionally.





“Let’s go,” he prompted them. They made their way down the walkway as they passed through the gate, Ron noticing the strange signs about Dirigible Plums and mistletoe on the side of the house as well as confirmation that it was, indeed, the Lovegoods living here. A board advertised the residence as home to the editor of The Quibbler in scratched grooves. When they reached the door, he squeezed Harry’s neck once more for luck while Hermione reached out and banged on it three times.





The old man answered looking harried, wearing a dirty shirt, and hastily demanding they state their business. When his gaze fell to Harry, he froze up, eyes as comically wide as Luna’s and his mouth hanging open.





Ron suddenly got a twisty feeling in his gut.





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o





“Ron!! Grab his arm! Don’t let him get away!” Hermione shouted as soon as they hit the ground, but Harry was already moving, scrabbling to get away from them so he could Apparate out of there and find her. Only one word screamed in his head—Luna!—and Harry’s panic reached a fever pitch at the thought of her trapped in such a dank and foul place as Azkaban surrounded by those wraiths of misery. After what she had been through in her life, he couldn’t allow that to happen. They would destroy her beautiful spirit in no time.





He felt a body slam into his back and was pushed to the floor, landing him on his stomach with a face full of snow. Ron wrestled with him as he tried to break free and then Hermione was throwing herself on top of them both as she yelled for Harry to stop fighting. But they couldn’t possibly understand. Harry had to get to Luna.





“Harry!! You can’t do it! They’ll kill you! Please, just listen to us! You have to calm down and listen to us!” Hermione continued.





Harry howled in answer, his pain searing through him like a raging fire. His friends held him down until Harry’s energy was sapped and he could feel himself giving in to the cold below him, his body going numb even as his head buzzed like the drone of a cloud of bees. How had this happened? A half hour ago, he’d only been worried that Luna would not want to see him, that she’d spit at his feet the moment he was in front of her, but then everything had turned to shit, again. When her father had told them that Luna was down by the water fishing for Plimpies, he had exhaled a brief sigh of relief, thinking that he could stave off the confrontation a bit longer until he was ready for her. Then he had grown suspicious the more Mr. Lovegood talked and Luna had still not come back. He’d been caught up in the explanation of the Deathly Hallows enough for him to forget his nerves, but as soon as her dad, still acting quite shirty, had disappeared to get refreshments, Harry’s need for her had drawn him up to her bedroom, hoping he might see her from her windows.





He’d sensed something was off almost immediately. Her room didn’t look like its usual warm, cozying glow, but empty of her essence. When he looked at their portraits on the ceiling, he could see their faces glimmer as if they were breathing into the room, but Hedwig was only a partial sketch. Luna had not been back to do any more work on the owl’s image. Then he started noticing details like her empty cupboards and the layer of dust over everything. Hermione and Ron had come up behind him to see what he was doing, and they’d marveled at the paintings with awed whispers, but grew quiet as soon as they saw his grim expression. What Hermione had said about Luna not being able to answer his call suddenly came sharply into focus and made her father’s erratic behaviour more aberrant. He ran back downstairs with his friends on his heels and as soon as Mr. Lovegood had walked back into the cluttered sitting room with his tray Harry confronted him on Luna’s absence. It was at this moment that the curiously odd printing press in the room decided to burp forth its excess of magazines from under its cover. They’d gotten a glimpse of the Quibbler’s new stance as copies of Harry’s face with Undesirable Number One stamped across his forehead fell to the floor in heaps.





Xenophilius had moaned that they had his Luna by way of explanation and Harry had felt like his stomach had dropped onto the carpet with a splat. They? Who were they? Then Hermione had screamed and as soon as he’d turned to see flashes on brooms whizz by the window, Harry had his answer. If the Ministry was trying to silence Mr. Lovegood under Voldemort’s orders, there was only one place they would have taken her. The three of them had their wands trained on Luna’s dad, but they’d been distracted by the visitors and he’d managed to get a Stunner off. The resulting explosion once it hit the volatile Erumpent horn that Mr. Lovegood was convinced belonged to a Crumple-Horned Snorkack had practically blown the top of the house off. The three of them were unhurt, although covered in white dust from the blast, but the Aurors had already made their way inside and Hermione would not let go of Harry once she’d had him in her grip. Every time the two men taunted Mr. Lovegood down below with threats to Luna, Harry had barely been able to contain his distress as groans wracked through him. He was too shocked and sick with worry to think straight and he’d let Hermione get them out of there in her own strategic way, making Ron get under the cloak and then blowing a hole through the floor as the three of them plummeted like stone. She’d pulled them with her through space right in midair, the Aurors’ alarmed shouts following them into the whooshing blackness, and now they were somewhere back in the countryside. All Harry knew was that he had to get to his angel and save her.





“Harry? Are you going to cooperate? I’m not getting off of you until you promise you’re not going to go anywhere,” Ron threatened. Harry gave another roar like a wild beast and tried to move under the weight of his friend once more, but he was pinned well and good. Hermione had leaped up and was frantically tossing protection spells around them, her face full of her fear that they might be traced. When she was done with her incantations, she fell to her knees in front of him, wide-eyed and terrified with her hair in disarray as it came loose from its ponytail. She beseeched Harry to stay put until they could work something out.





“I know what you’re thinking. But we don’t know for sure just where she is, do we? If it’s Azkaban, you’re NEVER going to get in there, Harry. Do you understand me? This is a suicide mission you’re considering, and you can’t go off half-cocked and expect you’re going to do her any good. They want YOU, Harry, remember that. If they get even a whiff of your relationship with her, you’re only putting her in more danger.”





“Aaaaaahhh!!!! I have to go!! You can’t do this to me! Let me go, please.” He gave another effort at a struggle but Ron was grinding him into the ground. “They’ll ruin her, I know it. I have to do something, I can’t leave her there! Please,” he begged, his choked sobs coming soon after as he fell apart. His body shook under Ron as he keened his despair. He didn’t think he could take much more of this. It was too much, the cost was too high. A loon cried hauntingly in the distance while the other two let him weep.





After a few minutes, as Harry’s breath hitched and his moans subsided, Ron bent to his ear and spoke soothingly. “Hermione’s right, Harry, you can’t help her right now. I know it bloody sucks but we have to be sharp about this. Dumbledore gave us a mission and it takes priority over everything else. You’re going to help Luna by finding and destroying the Horcruxes and then getting rid of that ruddy monster once and for all. Luna’s safe as long as Mr. Lovegood prints what they want. And now that they’ve seen us, they know that he was telling them the truth about trying to turn you over to them. Although,” Harry felt Ron’s head lift up to their friend in front of them, “why’d you have me wear the cloak? What was that all about?”





“Well, I couldn’t let them see you when you’re supposed to be in your attic at home with spattergroit, now, could I? Think of how much danger your family would be in if they suspected you were with Harry.”





There was a pause as the three of them stayed frozen in their positions. “Hermione, I love you,” Ron professed from above. Hermione blushed fiercely for a moment and tried to stem her smile before she looked seriously back at Harry again. He’d stopped crying, the tears frozen to his face while his nose ran in thick rivulets, but he was numb all the way through and couldn’t feel one way or the other about his friends’ relationship right now.





“Ron? May—maybe we should…tie up his hands?” Hermione spoke shakily as she looked up with a determined gleam in her eyes. Harry could feel Ron shifting slightly and grab hold of his arms, pulling them backwards so his wrists were crossed at the small of his back. Ron was breathing heavily as he sat up and straddled Harry’s backside, his grip still holding tightly.





“Are you sure about this; ‘Mione? It seems a bit of overkill. We just need to calm him down and then we can talk about our options.”





Hermione put her fingers to the bridge of her nose and squeezed it, her eyes tight as she expelled a great breath. When she looked back at them her expression was sadly resigned. “We’re talking about Harry, remember? Willful, reckless, stubborn Harry? I don’t care what he says, he’s going to take off like a shot the minute we turn our backs.”





“Will you stop talking about me like I’m not here?!” Harry demanded, quite frustrated with the debate they were having over his head. He was getting tired of being sat upon, too. In his rational mind, he knew what they were saying was true, but he refused to listen to anything that wasn’t going to help his cause.





“Sorry, Harry, but you know I’m right,” Hermione insisted.





Harry heard Ron murmur an Incarcero and then balked when he felt the rope snake around his limbs restricting his movement. He was starting to shiver as the cold penetrated him thoroughly; the front of his jumper soaked through from the snow. His teeth chattered as he resumed his complaining.





“This is shite, Hermione! Get him off of me! I’m bloody frozen!”





Hermione merely nodded up at Ron, but he finally felt his mate’s weight removed. Harry’s arms were tugged backwards so he was forced to lift his body and get on his knees. Once he was upright, he wriggled his torso trying to get his wet jumper loose from his skin while bringing some feeling back to his flesh. Ron still held fast to him, however, and then Hermione reached over to wipe his nose with a tissue. He glared daggers at her, but attempted to reason with her calmly when he spoke again, albeit through clenched teeth.





“I can’t have her near any Dementors, Hermione. You know why. Forget about the bloody mission for a moment and let’s try and find out where they took her. Maybe if we sneak into the Ministry disguised again—”





“Absolutely not,” Hermione cut off before he could draw up a plan. “They almost caught us the first time, you think security isn’t going to have increased in the off-chance we’re stupid enough to try it again?” she snapped, but then her expression immediately softened. “Look, I know you’re scared for her. I’m worried to death about Luna, too, but she would be the first one to tell you that it’s too risky for us to go on such a foolhardy rescue. You have to promise us; Harry, that you’re not going to try it. Maybe—maybe they’ll print something about it in the Prophet. You know, as a veiled warning to the public, and then we can confirm her whereabouts.”





Harry gulped hard, his throat feeling like it was swallowing cut glass. “You don’t know what Luna would say, so don’t presume to use her voice against me,” he accused gruffly. “And the Prophet isn’t going to say fuck all about locking up a sixteen year old girl to silence the competition, don’t be naïve. She’s fucked right now and needs our help. I can’t believe you’re asking me to just leave her to her fate. What if it had been Ron that was taken?” Harry knew it was a low blow, but he was desperate to get her to change her mind.





Hermione’s eyes flashed, but she only stared back at him dumbfounded. It was Ron who intervened, squeezing Harry tighter as he tried to assuage their tempers. “Hey, now, that’s enough. There’s no point in going down that track. Hermione’s only protecting you, Harry; we both are. You’re just going to have to accept the fact that there’s nothing you can do at the moment. We didn’t get buggery bollocks from Mr. Lovegood on the weird symbol, so we’re back at square one on where to look next. You need to focus on that and put Luna out of your head, no matter how hard it is. It’s not going to do you any good, mate.”





Harry wanted to scream again at their insistence that he needed to drop the matter, yet he fought the urge by breathing slowly and closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he took a good look at Hermione studying him back. He reviewed the times he’d gotten her to bend to some of his sexual demands and he let his eyes burn through the girl, his gaze sweeping over her form suggestively before he spoke in a snaky whisper, as if channeling Parseltongue.





“Hermione,” he drawled, “are you sure you want to get into a battle of wills with me again? I seem to remember that it didn’t work out so well for you last time.” He knew he was skirting a dangerous edge with Ron right behind them, but he felt he could gain the upper hand while still being rather oblique. “After all, I know some things about you, Hermione; that you would probably prefer to keep in the past.”





It had gone deathly silent when he finished speaking. Hermione flinched in one eye but her expression grew hard as she scanned his face looking for something that he didn’t think was there. Her hand had instinctively gone up to protect her throat and she darted a glance to the side, at Ron presumably, before looking back at him through narrow slits.





“You’re right, Harry.” There was no quaver now, her voice dulled but strong. “But if you would like to bring them to the fore, I’m all ears. I’m sure Ron would love to hear the details from you. You two are like brothers, after all.”





Harry felt the creeping ice in his veins, the pause hanging between them fraught with a crackling tension. There was a throat clearing and then Ron’s booming voice rang out. “What are you talking about?”



The two friends continued to stare at each other, ignoring his question while they silently fought, each trying to wear the other down through their eyes. He saw Hermione’s suddenly widen and then a prick of light in her iris signaling a new thought. Harry could practically hear the click in her brain.





“I want him to take the Unbreakable Vow,” she spoke resolutely into the wind. Harry was confused at first until he realized she was talking to Ron, but the boy was making choking noises as he shifted to kneel beside him, still holding Harry by the arm.





“What? Hermione, you must be mental! You can’t ask that. It’s unbreakable,” he gasped.





“I realize that, Ron, hence the name of the vow. It’s the only way to get Harry to stay true to his word. He has to swear to us that he’s not going to go after her, at least not without all three of us together. If it ends up being foreseeable, we can all come to a decision then, but the votes are in, two to one, and so Harry has to tow the line whether he likes it or not. We’re a team, here. The mission is still our main priority. You have to agree to it, Harry.”





His teeth hurt he was grinding them together so hard, but Harry knew he had been bested. His threat had backfired; if Hermione said one word about their illicit affair, he and Ron were over as friends, he was assured of that. And his friendship with Hermione would most likely fall to tatters in the aftermath and then he would have no one to help him, with Luna or otherwise. He would have to do as they said.





“But what happens if he can’t keep his promise? Do you know what’s at stake, ‘Mione? Those who have tried to break the vow end up dead,” Ron continued to protest not sounding convinced that Hermione understood the gravity of the situation.





“Well, then, the higher the stakes, the better the chance of Harry keeping his word, don’t you think? Of course the consequences are going to be dire, that’s-the-whole-point.” Her words were punctuated like heels clicking on tile. It was kind of funny to Harry, in an abstract way, to see his easily flustered friend being so tough and tenacious. He wondered just when that transformation had happened and if he had influenced it somehow.





So it was that Harry found himself inside the tent, his clothes dried by Hermione’s wand and his hand clutching Ron’s elbow as the two clasped each other’s arm. Hermione had decided to make Harry perform the vow with Ron while she cast the spell as a witness, further proving she had gone diabolical in her strategy. Of course, she was also the only one who had read up on it and knew how to fashion the spell. Ron looked terrified when he saw the silvery wisps from her wand curl around them. She laid out her demands in great detail, being sure to word each phrase as distinctly and cautiously as possible, and had Harry repeat them verbatim. When the strands of light settled into their skin, leaving criss-crossed marks in their flesh, Harry felt something fold over his heart. Luna was gone from him as surely as the clouds fleeing the moon outside.





He had never felt so lost.







~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o





“…And its ears are very small and purple, but it’s the horns themselves that draw your eye. They’re quite magnificent. I’ve seen one up close. Its coat is very shaggy and usually filled with flowers. It loves to roll around on the grass, you see, in the morning, when the dew is still fresh. Sweden is filled with these pretty, blue, star-shaped flowers called alpine gentians, or Fjällgentianas, and the Snorkack is often covered in them. It’s a very peaceful beast, but shy, as well. That’s why it’s so hard to document them. It would be thrilling to spot one. My dad and I are planning to visit there for an expedition. One day soon,” Luna sighed to her companion. “After Harry wins the war, that is.”





Luna was getting sleepier, but she kept on talking, anyway. She still felt wired, but her body was succumbing to exhaustion in a gradual winding down of breath and enthusiasm. It was cold down here and she wished she could wrap herself in a blanket, but had to settle for her cardigan, instead, which she’d taken off and drawn over her front. She had carefully inspected her surroundings once she’d arrived, but there wasn’t much to look at. It appeared to be a rather mundane and mostly empty cellar. There were a few barrels in one corner, but there was nothing above them that suggested any exit, just walls and a stone ceiling. There was one torch, on the wall across from where they sat, that had a low burning flame for the time being. Even still, it was very dark and hard to see anything beyond the ring of light it cast. Luna had felt her way to each corner once they had left her. Mr. Ollivander assured her he’d already tried to find an escape route, but she had needed something to do. Now, as her energy dwindled, she’d sat on the floor and leaned against the cold brick while she rambled. Mr. Ollivander hadn’t seemed to mind.





“But, my dear, how did you see one up close if they are notoriously hard to find?” he asked her in his confusion.





“Oh, I’ve never seen a real one. There aren’t any pictures of it, only descriptive accounts from those few witnesses who came across it unexpectedly. I’ve seen its horn, though. We have a specimen at my home. Daddy got a really good deal on it. It looks very similar to an Erumpent Horn, which was quite surprising.” Luna frowned at the coincidence.





Mr. Ollivander nodded in understanding before leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. He looked very frail in this shrunken, disheveled state; miles removed from the dignified, dapper man who had helped her find her wand. Luna surmised that he’d been tortured significantly since his kidnapping. The old man couldn’t determine just how long they’d been keeping him down here, but she recalled the news from her dad when he’d first gone missing. It had been some months that he’d been in this place and she wondered if the same fate would befall her.





Ollivander had been able to fill Luna in on her location, however, and which guest was currently residing there. Death Eaters had taken him upstairs when he’d been interrogated by Voldemort and the wandmaker had recognized Malfoy Manor. He’d been invited there before for a dinner thrown in Cornelius Fudge’s honour towards the end of the Minister’s incumbency and had also hand delivered some special wands at the senior Malfoy’s request. Luna was dead curious to know for what purpose she had been brought here and if she was slated to appear before You-Know-Who himself. In fact, her head was swimming with questions and it was giving her a bit of a headache. Her escorts had offered no information, even Dolohov had remained silent while grinning at her wickedly, making her feel rather squirmy under the gaze. They had blindfolded her before they’d arrived, carrying her through the front door as she hung over someone’s burly shoulder and then bounced through several rooms with heavy feet on marble floors. There were many steps to be heard marching around her, and then the floor went quiet with the carpeting. She had heard the deep voice of her Headmaster in another, distant room; she was sure of it, but then she was descending to a cold, damp place and dropped to the ground with a thud. Her bum was still sore from the landing as her feet had failed to hold her up. They’d untied her hands from behind her, one man letting his touch linger over her breast for a moment before standing, and then they were gone. When she’d torn the blindfold from her eyes, Mr. Ollivander had been blinking back at her in surprise.





There was a commotion over their heads suddenly. Luna had heard footsteps walking across the ceiling of the cellar from time to time, and even some low murmurs of conversation had come through the stone, but for the first time it sounded as if there was someone heading down the steps. She glanced at Mr. Ollivander’s face, her eyes huge, and he stared back at her fearfully. Luna took hold of his hand as a show of solidarity and squeezed tight, trying to assure him that she was there to protect him from more harm.





Then they both heard the voice at the door, aggressive but with a slight tremor in the notes. “You’d better be standing away from the door when I open it. I’ve got my wand out and you’re not going to like it if I catch you trying anything funny.” It sounded very familiar to Luna, but as it was muffled by the thick oak, she wasn’t positive she had correctly identified the person on the other side. She and Mr. Ollivander both stayed where they sat as they waited to meet their visitor.





The door creaked open slowly. She saw a wand poke out from behind it first and then hinges moaned as it gradually swung outward. When it was opened far enough, they could see a whitish-blond boy standing there, his face in shadow, but the drawl unmistakable.





“I’m coming in, so don’t make any sudden moves,” he warned. Luna could still hear a shaky timbre under the threat and wondered what Draco had been going through since fleeing the castle grounds with Snape. He shuffled into the dank cellar as he surveyed them, his wand still pointing in their direction. Luna could see his hair hanging down across his eyes as he stepped into the warm light but his gaze was stuck fast to the sight of them on the floor. He closed the door behind him and then leaned back against the wood; they heard the audible click of a lock set in place.





“What do we have here? If it isn’t my old friend, Good Loving Mouthful,” he quipped. Luna frowned at the name. “Fancy meeting you here, Loony. Perhaps the Dark Lord heard about your talents and was interested in a demonstration?” His words were quick to make her angry, but as he moved closer to them Luna got a better look at his face. Draco looked….unwell. It could have been the lighting, but there were dark rings under his eyes and his face appeared more gaunt and pinched than usual. His skin had a sallow color even under the orange glow. The boy looked ghostly but even more noticeably, Draco looked scared.





“Hullo, Draco. I don’t think your boss is interested in me, at all, actually. The men who took me off the Hogwarts Express seem to be very worried about my father’s magazine. I’m not sure what they expect to happen by kidnapping me, but I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.” She spoke to him calmly, but he seemed agitated by her words all the same.





“They took you right off the train?” he cried, incredulous. “Did anybody say anything? What was the reaction?” He watched her intently but Luna wasn’t sure what he expected her to say.





“Well, I don’t really know. The only person I saw protesting was Neville, and he happened to be in the same booth with me at the time. They Stunned him before taking me away. I do hope he’s alright and back with his Gran.” She was worried about her friend’s fate, but decided she couldn’t do much about it from her current location. Luna focused on the boy in front of her, instead. “What about you? Why haven’t you been in school? You don’t look very well, Draco.”





He scowled at her, but then turned his face away as he grew thoughtful. When he turned back to her, his expression had become crafty as he glanced up and down her form again. “Never mind about me,” he snarled. “What I want to know is how Hogwarts has been faring without the bloody Boy Hero gracing its walls. Now that the knucklehead has turned criminal, I’d be surprised if the entire lot of Gryffindor House hasn’t fallen apart. Whatever will they do? And no bossy Granger to tell them how to act, either,” he sniffed. “It’s a fucking travesty, I’m sure.” Luna stayed silent, though, as she watched him.





Draco had grown more comfortable as he mocked her friends, and when he swished his wand to the torch on the wall, it suddenly became brighter in the small space. He flourished his wand once more and a chair appeared in the middle of the floor. He promptly took hold of its back and swung it around as he settled into it, his arm resting across the top as he straddled the seat. He gave Luna a smug grin, his old self resurrected for a moment. “Sooooo, how’re Crabbe and Goyle? Been taking care of them, have you, giving them your favors? I’ve always been impressed with the way you work Greg’s massive knob, you tart.”





Mr. Ollivander had been quiet all this time, but he suddenly grew outraged at Malfoy’s cheek. “Now, see here, young man, stop being so foul to this lovely girl, this instant. I won’t stand for it.” He put his hand out across Luna as if to shield her and grabbed hold of her upended knee in a protective gesture as he stared Draco down. Luna was touched by the action, especially when she could still feel the man trembling in his grip.





“Shut it, old man. I can do whatever I want, talk to her however I’d like, and you can’t do a sodding thing about it. If I were you, I’d be resting up for your next ‘interview’ with the Dark Lord. You sure did a lot of moaning and screaming last time, didn’t you?” he taunted.





“Draco.” She only spoke his name aloud, no harshness in her tone, but he swiveled his head to her with his eyes wide as if she’d shouted at him. As soon as she had his attention, though, she tried to direct it off of the wandmaker. “I don’t do that anymore. I try to stay away from your friends, if at all possible. They gave me a hard time after Dumbledore’s funeral,” she noted how the boy flinched, “but—but Harry beat them up for me. They haven’t really bothered me since then,” she lied. Luna watched with some satisfaction as the boy goggled back at her.





“Potter took them out? You’re bloody having a laugh!” She shook her head back at him earnestly. “Are you seriously trying to get me to believe that the pint-sized wanker knocked out Goyle? You’re off your nut worse than I thought,” he sneered, but his eyes glistened wetly as he wiped a palm down his pant leg.





“It’s true. He smashed Theodore Nott’s nose into a pulpy mess, too. Harry had a lot of aggression to work out of his system. And he’s almost as tall as you, in case you hadn’t noticed.” It was probably not the best course of action for her to be defending Harry in such a place, but there was something inside of her that wanted to flaunt his strength and power over the young Malfoy. She recalled how angry Harry had been when he had first learned of the Slytherins coercing her into sexual slavery, how he had seethed over Malfoy’s name, and she felt a small squeeze in her belly at the thought of both boys in the same room.





“And what were you giving up to Potter in return?” he asked with a leer. “Oh, let me guess. He was doing his chivalrous duty to help the fair young maiden, even if she is the school joke, and asked for nothing but your continued loyalty to Dumbledore’s Army. I’m sure Scarhead is still a virgin, the way he carries on. He wouldn’t know good totty if it came up and sat on his face. He and the Weaselette deserve each other.” He looked quite unhappy at the thought, however, as he ran a hand through his hair, the scowl back on his face.





She hesitated a moment before speaking. “I thought you liked Ginny,” she added quietly while staring at her feet. Her shoes looked quite scuffed, she noticed. She’d have to give them a good cleaning when she got out of here. Then Luna’s thoughts turned to how Draco had cradled her head and stroked her hair the times that he’d magicked it to Ginny’s copper locks.





“I don’t like any Gryffindor,” Draco bit out. “The whole lot of them are simpering martyrs and fools. Hopefully, Snape’s got them whipped into shape, by now. When I get back to school, it’s open season on lions, as far as I’m concerned.” Luna looked up at him in surprise.





“You get to go back? I thought you were stuck here with Mr. Riddle?” Draco only gave her a scandalized expression, so she pressed on. “You’re going to have a lot of work to make up when you get there. Muggle Studies is mandatory now, so you’ll have to slog through quite a bit of notes. I imagine Alecto will go easy on you, though. She always does with the Slytherins. She had some very rude things to say about your father, however.” She made a face as she recalled the choice words the Carrow woman had for Lucius in class.





“I can handle that bitch, don’t you worry,” Draco grumbled. “But that brings me back to my original question. Just how is the school doing without Potter there to strut through the halls? What were the students saying when they started term? I’d love to have heard the reactions when they saw his face plastered on the front page of The Prophet as Undesirable Number One. That’s just classic. As if I hadn’t figured that out first year,” he muttered as he played with a stray thread on his cuff, his expression far off into his thoughts. His white dress shirt and dark pants looked elegant enough, but Luna still felt there was something grimy and tattered about the boy.





“Hogwarts isn’t a very pleasant place to be, right now. Everyone is pretty tense and afraid that they’ll be brought before the Headmaster at any moment to be sent off to Azkaban or some such sentence. Students get beaten a lot. And by the way, it’s been open season on Gryffindors since term began.” Luna frowned again as she suddenly wondered whether she should be telling Draco any of this. Yet, part of her felt he should at least be prepared.





“Oh, yeah? And what about Weaselbee? What’s that tosser been doing without his mates around to stick up for him?” Draco narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. “Or is he with Potter and Granger somewhere?” The question hung in the air as if powered by a Hovering charm, but Luna kept her face placid as she answered the boy.





“Ronald is sick, I’m afraid. He was in quarantine during the wedding. He hasn’t been back to school, either, which is probably just as well.” She held tight to Mr. Ollivander’s forearm as her eyes stayed locked to Draco’s.





“Is that…so?” he queried. He looked as if he was about to add something further when the three of them heard a bell tinkling overhead. They all glanced up at the ceiling and then Draco was standing up from his chair and bringing out his wand again. He turned it back into whatever pebble he had raised it from and then looked Luna over fleetingly.





“I’ll be back later. Mum’s calling me for supper, but if you promise to be extra nice to me when I get back, then perhaps I’ll bring you both some leftover scraps. Now, don’t go anywhere till then,” he cracked with a grin, but then disappeared through the door a second later, the light dimming with his exit.





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O





Draco did return an hour later and, true to his word, brought them something to eat. Luna hadn’t realized just how famished she was until she had the smell of meat under her nose. She dug into her share of the steak and kidney pie with some gusto, but made sure to leave enough to feed to Mr. Ollivander. He was so weak he could barely lift the fork to his mouth, and she knew he needed the sustenance more than her. She held a glass to his lips and curved an arm around his shoulders while he avidly gulped down the water that Draco had brought them. The Slytherin sat in the re-Transfigured chair again as he watched them intently, lifting the corner of his mouth in a half-grimace every time Luna glanced over at him. When the two were done eating, Luna placed her plate gently on the floor and slid it over to Draco’s feet before leaning against the wall to stare back at him. Silence settled over the three of them until he finally deigned to speak.





“So…what’s all this about your dad’s silly paper, then? Why’s the Dark Lord concerned with stupid, non-existent pests and conspiracy theories? I can’t imagine he reads that drivel for any purpose other than a good laugh. I mean, really, he’s hardly losing sleep at night over the real identity of Stubby Boardman, is he? Why does he need to kidnap you to stop your dad from printing a bunch of mindless crap?” Draco appeared to be stumped by Voldemort’s supposed interest as he waited for an answer, his left eye blinking while one leg bounced up and down with a nervous energy. He went still, however, as soon as he noticed what he was doing.





Luna suddenly realized that that was exactly what Voldemort meant to happen by bringing her here. She wrinkled her forehead as she gave the boy a thoughtful reply. “I suppose he’s still a bit miffed over Daddy’s interview with Harry, and probably all of the subsequent news he’s been reporting in the magazine to support Harry since then. Everything Daddy has printed is the truth, which is more than can be said for The Prophet.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied Draco. “You and I both know it wasn’t Harry who killed Dumbledore. Do you think anything else they’re saying about him has any merit at all?”





Draco glared at her over his folded arms resting atop the back of the chair. “Be that as it may,” he began frostily, “Potter is on the run when he’s got quite a bit to answer for. And what kind of stories would The Quibbler be covering that could substantiate that twit’s claims in any kind of rational way? Are these never-before-seen Heliopaths going to suddenly come forth and provide an alibi for him?”





Luna felt prickly with Draco’s emphatic ridiculing of her father’s magazine, even though it sounded as if he’d read a fair bit of it. “No, but there’s the breach into the Ministry, for one,” she challenged. “No one else reported what actually happened only what they were told to say. Harry and Hermione broke up some nasty business with Dolores Umbridge and a group of Muggleborns waiting to be interrogated. They helped the detainees break free and get to safety.” A voice in the back of her head told her to shut up, and the slight squeeze on her arm from the weakened old man next to her only confirmed her carelessness.





“Umbridge, you say? No, I don’t recall reading her name in any accounts. Now, how on earth would the certifiable headcase you call your father have known about that?” he jeered.





Luna’s anger sparked, but before she could retaliate, Mr. Ollivander’s quavering voice boomed through the room. “Xenophilius Lovegood has a brilliant mind. The paper he wrote thirty years ago on the sourcing of magical energy through the chakras is still referenced today, even in some Eastern Muggle circles. Just because he had some troubles doesn’t make him any less of a genius,” he insisted defiantly. Luna’s heart swelled to hear her dad being spoken of so highly.





“How many times am I going to have to tell you to keep your gob shut, you geezer?” the boy snarled through clenched teeth. “I’m not talking to you, am I?” But when he looked back over to Luna, his gaze swept over her in another quick appraisal. She suddenly felt the chill on her flesh grow colder. “Perhaps I need to find a more private location,” he said ominously.





“Location for what?” she demanded, her tone edgy. Draco’s face immediately brightened as he gave her an enigmatic smile.





“Loo breaks, darling. I’m sure you’re dying to spend a Knut. I’m assuming you’d prefer not to have to do it in front of present company,” he told her as he waved a hand over himself and Mr. Ollivander. “I’ll have to tie you up, of course, before I take you there, but you’re alright with that, aren’t you, luv?” The grin was still smeared across his face but it didn’t look particularly friendly to Luna, rather wolfish, in fact. However, she could really use a pee. She got up wearily, sighing into the stretch. Once she was standing, Luna crossed her wrists and held out her hands in offering. The pose gave her a vague shiver and her mind flashed on Harry for a second before she shook the image away, focusing on Draco, instead, with a dull stare.





“I’m your prisoner. Do what you must.” The smile faltered briefly on the boy’s face but then he chuckled sarcastically.





“I’ll do whatever I feel like,” he threatened, his silvery eyes gleaming. Luna had never really noticed how much they were like her own eye color, but then she had spent most of her time with the Slytherin having her face in his lap. There were those few occasions when they had been alone, though, that he had kissed her first. She had liked that Draco a lot better. He took her hands now, but moved them backwards till they were clasped behind her, quickly muttering the spell to bind them. Draco stepped behind her, his grip tight to her wrists, and faced her to the door.





“Where are you taking her?”





Draco whipped his head back to glare at Mr. Ollivander again. “Where do you suppose, old man? To the kitchens?” His voice had risen sharply into a screech and he closed his eyes for a second to gather his composure. “You know,” he resumed, “as ancient and decrepit as you are, you’re a right pain in the arse. What did I say not one minute ago—”





“I don’t trust you with her,” Mr. Ollivander cut in. “You’d better not harm one hair on her head, you selfish boy. You think you can take advantage of her given the situation, but I—”





Mr. Ollivander never got to finish, however, as Draco Stunned the wandmaker with a quick blow to the chest. “Draco!” Luna cried in her alarm, stepping forward to kneel down before the man as he slumped over to the floor. The boy grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her back towards the door, pushing her in front of him as he opened it with his wand. “I warned him,” he muttered in his defense, but Luna thought he was being grossly unfair to the wise wizard who, after all, was only trying to protect her.





“He’s very weak. You shouldn’t have done that,” she told him quietly, but Draco was only focused on getting her into the stairwell and locking the door behind him. Luna looked up to see a square of light leading their way to the top of the stairs, but before her foot could touch the first step, she felt Draco’s arms go around her waist, wand flashing in front of her, and then the familiar whoosh of sucking space.





When her feet hit solid ground again, Luna stumbled a bit trying to regain her equilibrium. Draco still held to her tight, however, and she leaned back against him momentarily as a woozy feeling overtook her, the meat she’d consumed threatening to come up from her stomach. Her eyes were shut, but she opened them blearily to see where he’d brought them, expecting a hallway and guards. As her sight grew sharper, though, she glanced around in confusion, seeing bookcases and gilded walls. If this was a washroom, it had to be the largest and most opulent she’d ever been in, but then a quick look behind her told her that it wasn’t anything of the sort. The giant bed ensconced in silk drapery and lace finery was surrounded by too much detail to appreciate in one sitting, but there was enough telling bits for her to deduce she was in a young man’s room—Draco’s room, in fact. He had a large oak desk against the wall closest to the grand window, overflowing with papers and books, while maps adorned the walls around it, but of where she couldn’t discern. A hefty longbow lay propped against another corner, the arrows collected and protruding from a bag at its bottom limb while more detritus lay scattered along the floor. She saw at least three racing brooms in various positions around the room and several bits of Quidditch equipment cluttering the space, but her attention was immediately drawn to the perch by the window, a blackish falcon sitting on its bar with the top of its head covered in a fancy green cap that sprouted tassels of gold. It swiveled its head towards them, unseeing with the headgear, but Luna felt watched all the same.





“Why are we here, Draco? I thought you were going to let me visit the loo,” she sighed tiredly. She felt somewhat resigned to the idea that Draco would sexually proposition her out of habit, but she had not been expecting it so soon.





“I am letting you. I have my own private washroom right here. Thought it would be less of a bother to keep you out of everyone’s sight for the time being,” he explained, but that nasty smile of his never leaving his face. Luna couldn’t stand to see his smugness in such an unfair situation and wished she could stamp her foot over his, but just couldn’t summon up the required energy to do so. He took hold of her arm and steered her to a door hidden by the room’s angles. In a few steps, she could see there was a whole other wall extending the size of the room containing two armoires and more bookcases, although one was covered by glass and contained an unusual assortment of bric-a-brac. One strange piece looked like a hand reaching upward from its wooden base. She didn’t have a chance to peruse the rest of the items as Draco was tugging her forward again. Next to the curio cabinet was the bathroom door, and he opened it now for her to make her way inside. It was as ostentatious as the bedroom, and apparently large enough to contain an echo as her shoes hit the checkered black and white tiles loudly.





“This is…very nice. Is this all for you?” she asked him sincerely, somewhat fascinated by its massiveness.





“Of course it is. We’re Malfoys; we do everything in style. Now, are you going to do your business or are you waiting for me to help you out? I’m not going to stand here all day.” He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and crossed his arms, though, as if he were prepared to do just that, his insouciant demeanor continuing to irritate her. She turned her back to him and stretched out her bound wrists.





“It would be much easier if my hands were free,” Luna pointed out as she turned her head to look over her shoulder. Draco simply smirked back at her with a rude snort, making no move to untie her.





“Don’t know that that’s such a good idea, luv. Do I look daft? You might have everyone else fooled into believing you’re mad as a bag of ferrets, but I know you better than that. You’re quite crafty when you want to be. I watch you, you know, especially when you’re tending to us fellows. You think I can’t see how you manipulate us? I suspect one of us Slytherins would have gotten you on your back by now if you hadn’t been so suave. That’s quite admirable, that. Perhaps you were Sorted wrong, oh, sneaky one?”





Luna debated how she should go about handling the teen as she started to fidget from one foot to the other. She knew Draco was smart, but he was also extremely proud and rather vain. While Luna wasn’t about to play into his lewd innuendos, nor was she going to put up with his penchant for lording it over what he deemed his inferiors. She had observed Draco closely, too, and one thing she understood unequivocally about the boy was that he enjoyed playing his mind games on other people to see what kind of reaction he could elicit. Even when his tongue was at its cruelest, she could detect him waiting for that response with relish, as if he only said such things in order to set into motion a scene of human folly for the express purpose of his entertainment. Crabbe and Goyle might be too stupid to notice their friend’s hobby, but Luna was as sharp as Draco claimed.





“Well, can you at least re-fashion the knots so I can tend to myself, please? I can’t do anything with my hands behind my back,” she insisted.





“What? No Humdingery Blubbers to come to your aid, then?” he giggled.





Luna was fast approaching her breaking point with him. “Blibbering Humdingers,” she corrected, slightly exasperated. “And they’re a bit too small to help any, besides. Now, please, Draco, stop teasing and let me go to the bathroom, already.”





“Well, well, you’re certainly full of demands, aren’t you? When did this little attitude adjustment happen?” he smirked again, but still stepped forward to put his wand to her bindings. He muttered another incantation and then her hands were split apart and brought to her front, knots forming once more. At least she would have more mobility this way and could lift up her skirt. Luna didn’t bother to answer his question but gave him an expectant look while she waited for him to leave her. “Yeah, whatever,” Draco offered with a roll of his eyes, but then he was closing the door behind him. She didn’t hear a lock turn, but supposed he was standing right outside as sentry. Giving the interior of the bathroom a quick scouting, it became plain that there were no escape options open to her, anyway. Running over to the black, gleaming toilet, she quickly pulled up her clothes and then wrestled to get her knickers down far enough with her limited movement so she could tinkle into the bowl. Once she’d managed that, she gave a satisfied sigh as her bladder was able to finally relieve itself.





Crossing over to the sink when she was done, she took a look at herself in the mirror and frowned at what she saw. She didn’t look any different it seemed, no matter what she went through. She kept expecting to break out in boils or have her hair fall out with every indignity, but she was always the same on the outside. Even after…after Harry, after the last time she saw him, she had imagined her reflection would reveal something harder, flinty, in her expression. Her eyes were shining back at her in their usual domination of her face, giving her that veneer of innocence. She felt anything but innocent.





When she tested the doorknob to see if it would open, it turned without any resistance and she next found herself standing in the doorway staring at Draco lying on his side in the middle of the bed. The curtains that hung at the posts were tied back and she could see how great the expanse of the bed truly was as his form seemed surrounded by space. His head was propped on one upturned hand, and his corner lip tugged up as he patted the mattress in front of him invitingly.





“Come and let’s have a chat,” he commanded plainly. Luna didn’t budge.





“I think you should take me back, now,” she urged quietly. The two continued to stare at each other across the room for a few more beats before Draco spoke again in a chilly tone.





“I think that you’re forgetting something rather important, here. Namely, that I’m the one in charge. I’ll give the orders, thank you very much, and decide when to take you back to the cellar. Now, do as I say, and get your arse over here.”





Still, Luna stood where she was another second and gauged how far she might be willing to argue with him before he would do something about it. Determining from the way his pupils bore into hers that she wasn’t going to get out of this, she instead focused on how she might make the best of the situation and keep herself from harm. She supposed she could enforce a few, good knee jabs to Draco’s groin the way Harry and Seamus had taught her if it got too bad. Luna darted a quick glance at the door leading outside but when she looked back at Draco, he was shaking his head slowly. She looked down at the duvet in front of her, a shiny emerald color that glimmered with every crease made in its fabric when Draco jostled the bed. It made her think of Harry’s eyes staring into hers so intensely. Tentatively, she put her compromised hands to the top of the cover and brought up her knees to climb onto the mattress, but she felt unsure of what she was doing. Perhaps it would be better to fight him, to stand her ground and demand he take her to her holding cell the way Harry would do in such a scene? But she wasn’t Harry, was she? She would never be as tough as him, he had seen to that. She was cured of any illusions she might have had on that front. Luna sighed again as she continued to make her way to the bed and crawl on all fours to the boy in waiting. When she felt she was close enough to him, she leaned back on her haunches and rested her fists in her lap. Looking down at him, she thought she could see his eyes glint wetly, but it could have been the lighting overhead.





“What did you want to chat about?” she prompted but Draco only kept his gaze fixed to her as he drummed his fingers on the bed. He seemed to be studying her, but Luna had no idea what he was looking for.





“What’s the matter with you?” he suddenly asked, his eyes squinting at her as if trying to pinpoint the change in her nature.





“Other than that I’m being held prisoner against my will, you mean? I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” she muttered dryly.





“Don’t be facetious. You’re acting differently towards me. Normally, you’d have my knob down your throat by now. What’s with the new virginal act? You ‘don’t do that anymore’? Since when?” He seemed almost angry with her.





“Since I decided that I’m master of my own fate and don’t allow people to push me into things I don’t want to do, that’s when,” came her retort. Luna thought back to something Harry had said to her awhile ago. “I’m more than what you boys see me as. I didn’t deserve to be treated like some toy as a way to make you feel better about yourselves. Gregory and Terry already tried to force themselves on me back at school, and I assure you they didn’t like the outcome,” she confessed warily. “I sincerely hope that you’re not going to attempt to take advantage, too. You’re better than that, Draco.”





Draco appeared affronted by her speech, his face frozen in its surprise. Then he gave a deep groan and flounced flat on his back, his hand smacking the bed in a loud thwap. He put his arm up to his forehead and sighed heavily, his face covered momentarily. When he pulled it away and looked up at her, he shook his head in disgust. “Fucking unbelievable,” he gritted through his teeth. “You’re fucking serious, too, aren’t you? One of the biggest slags in the school and now you’re the victim? Isn’t that just mint,” he sneered. The two teens just stared at each other in their poses for a few more minutes before his eyes turned to slits. “You sound like Potter got to you,” he accused bitterly. “Either that, or Granger gave you some ridiculous girl-power talk. I’m leaning towards Scarhead, though. You’ve got a thing for him, don’t you?” His face grimaced at the unpleasantness of the idea.





“Harry’s a very…good friend. He looks out for me…usually.” She had whispered the last part, but Draco had gone back to examining her carefully again. He sat up suddenly with a jolt.





“Just how good a friend is he, exactly?” he demanded, turning suspicious. Luna just gaped at him somewhat dumbfounded for a moment before collecting herself.





“Good like friends normally are, I suppose,” she explained while absentmindedly stroking her neck, feeling the loss of her collar strongly in that moment. “I haven’t really had very many of them, so I’m not entirely sure what you’re asking.” She shook her head a few times in her perplexity.





“You’re doing it again,” Draco snarled. “I’m not dense, so don’t insult my intelligence. You know exactly what the bloody hell I’m asking. Good friend like he waves to you as he passes in the hall and tells you uplifting shit when you’ve been getting picked on again, or ’good friend’,” Draco’s fingers made quote marks in the air, “like he’s shagging you senseless every chance he gets? I think I may have spoken too soon before,” he relented. “Maybe Potter’s been giving you a bit of the in-and-out all along.”





Luna’s mouth went dry as she stared back at him with big eyes, surprised that he could make such accuracies about her relationship. She wondered if she was giving something away in her body language. It was hard to keep her mannerisms unaffected when talking about Harry. Draco drew in closer to her face to peer right into her eyes. Luna reared her head back as if she’d been bitten.





“Oh, Merlin,” he breathed out awestruck, “I can’t believe this. It’s fucking true, isn’t it? Just how bloody long has he been knobbing you?” he practically shouted at her, incredulous at the thought.





“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Luna maintained, but that response proved to be the wrong approach. Draco’s face scrunched up in rage and a hand shot out to grab hold of her wrists.





“Damn it! Stop with this shite, already! I don’t have time for this. I know you’re lying to me!” He pulled her towards him until she was off her bum, his pupils sliding back and forth in their sockets to inspect her face greedily like rolling balls clacking against each other on a billiard table. “You don’t know what I’m talking about? Really? Perhaps I should show you, Lovegood. Do you need a demonstration?” The pitch in his voice had risen sharply again but then he was viciously tugging at her arms until Luna toppled over into his lap, slamming her head against his chest in the fall. Pushing her down on the bed, he quickly pressed his body flat to hers and growled into her face, “This is what I mean, Luna! Are you getting it now, you silly girl? Do you comprehend my bloody meaning?!” Luna was quick to fold her hands into one fist, bashing at the boy anywhere she could, but he dodged her flailing with a sneer as he pinned one arm. “Did he put his cock in you, Goodlove? Did you enjoy getting banged by the Chosen One? I bet you did. Bet it was just like moonbeams and pixie dust and whatever nonsense you dream about while you’re walking around in your bloody fog. Figures you’d spread your legs for that arsehole,” and he moved to take hold of her knees with both hands and pull them apart, thrusting his groin against hers, “How hard did he fuck you, luv? Tell me all the dirty details,” he grunted as he thrust once more.





Luna had had enough of Draco’s abuse, however, taking the opportunity during the break in his spurious diatribe to wield her fist sideways and knock him heavily into his temple. “Aargh!” he cried as he fell over next to her, all while Luna continued to kick and pummel him until he was completely off of her. As soon as she felt free from his weight, she rolled away from the boy to the other side of his bed until she dropped to the floor. Quick as she could use her tangled hands to push herself up, Luna was scrambling to her feet and heading for the bedroom door. Before she could get halfway, though, Draco was suddenly impeding her path and reaching to take hold of her again. Luna lifted up her arms to the side of her head, ready to swing her fist back at him, but he pushed at her waist instead and flung her on top of his duvet, her body bouncing in the fall as her head snapped back.





“Fucking hell, will you just stop for a bloody second!” he yelled while holding up his palm to her. “I’m not going to do anything to you, alright? Just calm the fuck down!” He had lowered his voice as he spoke, but his breaths were harsh as his chest heaved in and out, his silvery eyes wild and glistening. Luna tried to use her elbows as leverage and managed to scuttle backwards until her back hit the headboard. Her heart was beating as fast as the Joberknoll’s before its fateful song and her eyes darted around the room looking for any signs of a weapon or some refuge. She noticed the longbow again and its pile of arrows, but when she glanced over at Draco he was slicking his hair back as he fought to get his breathing under control.





Once he ran his hands down the front of his shirt to smooth it, he gave her another baleful look, his jaw tightening. “I don’t do this shit,” he said miserably before turning away to stare off into space. “This isn’t me.”





Luna opened her mouth to speak, not knowing what would come out, but then a loud rap on the door made both teens startle and swivel their heads sharply in its direction. She sat up rigidly and held her arms tied together out in front of her while watching the door swing open. Draco stood frozen, his mouth a flat line, but when the older Malfoy suddenly stepped into the room, the boy’s eyes widened in alarm and his cheeks bloomed scarlet. Luna hadn’t seen Lucius this close up since the Department of Mysteries attack. Like Draco, even though he was dressed impeccably there was something a little less shiny about him, Luna noted, his face almost haggard in defeat.





“What’s all this shouting for, Draco?” his father enquired gruffly, but when the stately gentleman turned to take in the scene of Luna sitting bound on Draco’s bed, his irritation immediately switched to shock. “What the hell is the meaning of this? Why is the girl in your room? Draco? You’d better answer me, son.”





Draco straightened up stiffly, his eyes fixed to Lucius. “It’s nothing, Father. I was…just letting her use the facilities in here and we were—we’ve been…talking.” He emphasized the last word with an arch of his brow and an expression meant to convey something that Luna couldn’t follow. Draco’s father only glared back at the boy for a moment before snapping his head in her direction, giving Luna another once-over in distaste if the curl in his upper lip and the flare in his nostril were any indication.





“I rather doubt that,” he purred malevolently, staring at Luna’s legs, but when he looked back at his son his demeanor had cooled. “Take her back to the cellar. Your Aunt Bella is arriving shortly and your mother wants you present in the drawing room. We have house-elves to tend to the prisoners’ needs.”





He regarded her once more as he made to exit and this time Luna thought she could observe a flash of pity in his face. Then his back was to her and he was out the door. She was somewhat surprised that he’d left her with Draco, half-expecting that he would have demanded she be transported back downstairs with the guards who brought her in. Luna watched Draco shift on his feet while he exhaled a shaky breath. “Great,” he muttered, looking aggrieved as his hands propped on his hips, staring up at the ceiling.





“Is Aunt Bella the crazy one?” she ventured to ask, unsure of how to talk to Draco in the aftermath of his violence. The charge between them had muted with Mr. Malfoy’s interruption, but Luna was still shaken. She really had no idea what to expect from him in these surroundings. Gone was the cockiness he normally exhibited at school, especially during the times he’d backed her into a corner for sex. In those encounters, Draco had always been more smoothly manipulative than rough with her, sometimes even charmingly so. In the absence of his confidence, this Draco carried desperation in his every attempt to control her.





He swung his body to face her, arms still akimbo, but he only shrugged one shoulder as he answered her dully. “I guess you could say that. She’s not exactly the picture of mental health, but she’s still pretty sharp. Not much gets by her,” he noted solemnly. He sighed heavily. “Well? You want to get off the bed? I have my orders.”





Luna didn’t move at first, remaining leery of his mood changes. He gave her an exasperated shake of the head as his eyes widened. “What’s the problem? I told you I wasn’t going to do anything to you. Get over yourself already. You’re not even that pretty,” he grumbled.





She shifted her legs to fall over the edge of the bed and then scooted forward, holding her arms close to her chest. When she hesitantly walked over to him, he took hold of her elbow firmly and steered her to his front until her toes were pointed towards his. “I have to touch you to Disapparate downstairs, so don’t get all aggro on me, alright?” Luna nodded and stepped closer, allowing Draco to wrap his arms around her waist again as he brandished his wand. She stared bright eyed at his hardened face as he twirled both of their bodies in their take-off. She always tried to keep her eyes open whenever she made the leap, but it still proved to be an impossible feat for her. Opening her eyes once she felt her feet land on a hard floor, she was surprised to see that they were in a hallway instead of the stairwell leading to her prison. Glancing around, she heard voices at both ends of the corridor, but the strident bellow of a woman caught her attention first, and she turned her head into what she expected was the direction leading to the foyer. The sound of a door closing and footsteps clamoring across the parquet told her she was correct, but Luna didn’t get a chance to explore further as Draco led her to the stairs a few feet over.





“Come on; let’s get you put away in your box.” He slipped his arm through hers and held her close when he took her down the steps. Luna kept looking at his profile, noticing how his gossamer fine lashes all but disappeared in the light they were so blond. His lips were drawn in a pinched line across his face, like a badly sewn hem, and as they descended to the cellar he bit his bottom lip, deep in thought.





Reuniting her with Mr. Ollivander, still asleep on the floor, Draco held his wand to her wrists to unspell his knots. She immediately rubbed them in circles to bring back the flow of blood. She wondered what would happen if she attacked him right now in this distracted state, if she grabbed his wand and Stunned him so she could run out of here. Would she get very far through the manor before she was set upon by its inhabitants? She really had no idea how many people were currently populating the house, and where they might be stationed, besides. Surely, there would be several guards on hand if Voldemort was in the building, and now there would also be Bellatrix to contend with. It seemed foolish for her to even make the attempt. She suddenly felt very alone, wondering how long she was doomed to stay here. Luna’s heart skipped as she thought of Harry once more, so far away from her and in such a bad way. He needed her; that much she believed, but she was useless to him now. Luna stared into Draco’s face once more and saw her misery mirrored there. They were quite a pitiful pair.





“Do you want me to...come and see you at breakfast?” he asked quietly.






She gave him the faintest wisp of a smile. “That would be nice,” she told him sincerely. He nodded to her once before turning to leave, his shoulders sagging as if the very weight of the world was resting against that bent neck.