Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Note: People keep asking me, "Is this A/U? It seems slightly A/U..." Guys, I'm sorry, but I have no clue what A/U stands for. Kudos to the first person who tells me!
Thanks again for your always-wonderful reviews! I'm glad you like this!
Chapter Six
Reinforcements
Harry's eyes snapped open, and he winced as the lightning blot shaped scar on his forehead began to burn. He closed his eyes tightly and willed the pain away. When it did about five minutes later, he looked around his room through the darkness. Something wasn't right here. Strapped to a plaque over the bed, accessible only by him, was the sword he had woken up next to on the day that had sparked the War. It's blade was traditional, long, straight, and sharp. The hilt was pure gold armed with emeralds. If he just reached up, the leather straps that bound the sword to the plaque would give way to his unique magical touch. Under Harry's pillow was his wand. He didn't know which he'd need at the moment, but he knew both were only a fingertip's reach away.
Slowly, his eyes scanned the room. Like Ron, he had trained himself to see in the dark, and his sight was good even without the aid of his glasses. There were no peculiar new shapes in the bedroom. The feeling in the pit of his stomach must've been coming to him from his workroom. Carefully, so as not to disturb his wife, Harry sat up and reached across Hermione and picked his glasses up off of the bedside table. He felt her move in her sleep and snuggle closer to him, her arm wrapping tighter around his waist. There was no need to wake and alarm her, so Harry silently slipped out of the bed, kissed her gently on the forehead, grabbed his wand and padded over to the door that led to his workroom.
He placed the tip of his wand under the door and whispered a word. A faint white light, visible only to his eyes, filtered into the room and scanned it. Then, the light began to radiate
pale blue. There was no one inside, and the spell was strong enough that it would've even picked up someone in an Invisibility Cloak. Befuddled, Harry swung the door open. He glanced around the room and saw that nothing was out of the ordinary, except...
"Bloody hell," Harry whispered, his heart stopping as his eyes spotted the blinking red light on his wall. "Luminate!" he said, and the light flickered on in the room. He ran over to the device on the wall and stared at it. He needed to focus on the problem at hand, but his brain wasn't allowing him to concentrate, wouldn't let him understand how this had happened.
"Harry?" Said a voice from the doorway. He glanced sideways. Hermione was standing there, looking sleepy and confused. "Harry, what's wrong?" She looked at the flashing button through eyes clouded with sleep, and her face suddenly went white.
"Oh my God...please tell me that's not Draco's button." She whispered, coming over to her husband's side. She looked up at the device that held the red light. The wall was covered, top to bottom, with lights identical to the blinking one, and next to every light was a name. There was one light for every family under the protection of ARMED, and there was one light for every person who was part of the Few. When a light shone white, it meant that the person or the whole family was safe and sound. When the lights turned orange, it meant the person was injured. When the light went out, they were dead. Flashing red, however, was probably the worst color the lights could be.
"Get Ron up here." Harry said, finally coming to his senses.
Hermione nodded and left the room. A few minutes later, Harry heard her call for Ron over the Muggle device called an intercom. He went to his desk and fished out an old, antiquated map. They had a rescue mission to put together.
~*~*~*~*~
Ron hardly slept, and when he did, it was very lightly. Hermione's voice was still calling him through the intercom when he was halfway up the flight of stairs that lead to Harry's quarters. His hair was rumpled and he was wearing nothing but a muscle shirt and black trousers. He had stuck his wand in the elastic waistband of the trousers, just in case. Out of suspicion and habit, he had wanted to grab his sword, but realized that would be overreacting and might cause panic to anyone wandering the halls for a late night snack. Besides, if the castle was under seige, Harry would've had the alarm sounded, not just his head warrior.
A handful of minutes later, Ron burst through the door that led into Harry's workroom. Hermione was bustling about, packing a very large suitcase, and Harry was bent over a map with a pencil in his hand, plotting a course. Both of them looked up when Ron came in.
"What's wrong?" Ron asked, nowhere near breathless.
Harry nodded to the wall. "Draco's been captured."
Ron's mouth fell open. "Draco's the best we've got! How can he be captured when he's only been gone five days?"
"It took him five days to get there. According to the message he was able to send us, he wasn't there long before Lucius discovered him," Hermione explained, brushing a stray curl from out of her eyes and trying to stop her voice from shaking.
"If anyone can discover one of our best spies, it's his own father," Harry said grimly.
"And so you want me to go and bring him back?" Ron said, blue eys following Hermione as she packed winter gear into the suitcase.
"Precisely. We've recorded the coordinates of the castle that we recieved from Draco's tracking device before he destroyed it to cover himself, but the route I've mapped for you isn't the quickest one possible. It is the one most inconspicuous, though. It'll take you about eight days if you move quickly. Follow my directions to a T, Ron. Otherwise they'll intercept you. They know someone will be coming for Draco and they're ready."
"Sending him alone would be stupid, then," remarked an airy voice from the doorway.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned. Luna was leaning casually in the doorframe, hands resting lazily on the hilt of her sword, wand plunged through the middle of a messy bun. Ron did his best not to stare at her, her face lit by the soft moonlight filtering through a window, short strands of hair framing her face, her body clad in her comfortable pajamas (which happened to consist of nothing more than a camisole and shorts). She was beautiful, but in the moonlight, armed with a deadly weapon...Ron was having a very hard time not considering her sexy. Now was not the time for such thoughts, though. He forced those notions out of his head as Harry began to speak.
"No, Luna. You aren't going."
She raised an eyebrow. "You don't trust me, Harry?"
"Not entirely, no," Harry admitted after a moment's hesitation.
Luna nodded and stepped into the room. "And why should you? I appear out of nowhere after how many years of disappearance? I relay vital information to you, and then your top spy is captured by the very people I reported against. I wouldn't trust me either if I were you."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What do you know, Luna?"
Luna shot a sidelong glance at Ron. It sent shivers up and down his spine. "I can get him in and out of the base without notice. I also know where they're keeping Draco and how to free him."
"And how do you know all of this?" Hermione asked suspiciously.
Luna's gaze darted to the brunette. "How could I escape that place and not even know my way in and out?"
The room fell eerily silent. Escape? Was that how she had known the information about Voldemort's new ally? Was it possible they had an enemy spy on their hands, leading them one after another into a trap?
Ron could see Harry was taking all of this into consideration. His tortured eyes darted back and forth as once again, he was forced to choose, forced to make a decision that could cost the lives of several of his best men, and best friends. Could he put his trust in this young woman? He had known Luna in school, had been aware of how unfortunate her life was. He had trusted her then. Would that trust be allowed to carry on?
"It doesn't matter," Ron said, wanting to be a part of this decision. He was the one originally in question, anyway. "I do field assignments alone. No exceptions."
He didn't want Luna getting hurt out there. Somehow, Ron felt as though she would be an important assest to ARMED and the Few. He had a premonition that she wasn't for the enemy, but was in fact on their side. He sincerely hoped those kisses from the five days previous weren't the cause of this want to protect and believe her, but what could he do? He worked alone, no matter what.
Harry looked from Ron to Luna and then back. "I still don't know if I can trust you," Harry said, looking at his friend but directing his words to Luna. "But it seems I have no other choice. You say you can get them in and out, unharmed?"
"Yes," Luna said, her voice full of sincerity. "They'll be back here in one peice in two weeks' time, whether you trust me or not. There is no proof I can give you at the moment but my word."
Harry nodded. "There will be time for explinations when you return. Hermione, please pack Luna an extra suitcase."
"No, Harry, she can't come!" Ron protested. "I'll be fine on my own. I work better on my own. I can't have her getting in my way."
"You are not a one-man show, Ron," Harry said sternly. "It doesn't matter if it was by your sword that the most Death Eaters' lives were taken, you are not exempt from teamwork. We need Luna to get you and Draco back to Hogwarts safely. I'm not about to risk both of your lives just because you want to go alone."
Though his voice was firm, Ron recognized understanding in his friend's emerald eyes. He walked over to the door that led to Harry's bedroom, and Harry followed him. He closed the door and turned to Ron, who was pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his hair.
"Do you think we can trust her?" Harry asked softly.
Ron shook his head in exasperation. "Yes, I do, but...I don't know...and yet...argh!" Ron turned and punched the wall, leaving a hole in it.
With a sigh, Harry waved his wand and repaired the wall. "Why don't you want her going with you?"
Ron braced his hands against the newly fixed wall and glared at it, then gave up and rested his forehead against it. "It would kill me to lose anyone on a mission I would've been perfectly capable of handling myself."
"I saw her duel you, Ron. I'm sure that, in a tough situation, Luna can take care of herself well enough."
Ron closed his eyes and nodded. Harry watched his best friend for a moment, and then his eyes softened. He walked over to Ron and placed his hand on the other man's muscled shoulder.
"Maybe you're letting your emotions penetrate all of this a little?" He suggested.
Ron shook his head. "I don't have any emotions to get in the way of anything right now, and even if I did, I would never allow them to affect my duty."
"Sometimes," Harry said kindly, "admitting whatever you're feeling can strengthen you, and sometimes, emotions are allowed to get in the way, because they actually help the cause."
And with a brief pat on the back, Harry turned to go. Ron kept his eyes closed and soaked in the coolness of the wall. Luna was coming with him, whether he liked it or not. He would just have to make sure she stayed out from under his feet...and she stayed safe. What could he say? Protecting people was his job. But emotions? Did Harry actually think Ron felt something for Luna? Did he think that even if Ron did --and he most certainly did not-- he would allow such folly to affect his work?
Ron shook his head again and went to the door. He was a warrior. He had no room for emotions. They just made it harder to fight and kill when necessary.