Unsung Hero

J&M Ink.

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Ron & Luna
Book: Ron & Luna, Books 1 - 6
Published: 28/03/2005
Last Updated: 02/09/2005
Status: completed

And so it began, with both a rising and a setting sun. The unlikeliest of romances during the unlikeliest of times, about to unfold and bear its hidden secrets to a world whose inhabitants had long since forgotten how to live....

Chapters

1. Prologue

2. Love Let Linger

3. Old Insanities

4. Dawn of Discovery

5. Dancing

6. Espionage in the Works

7. Reinforcements

8. Partners

9. Winds of Destiny

10. Behind Enemy Lines

11. Forgotten Valley

12. Enchantress of the Night

13. Martyr

14. Mercenary

15. Prisoners of War

16. The Definition of Love

17. Because the War Needs You

18. Corruption

19. The Spell Caster

20. The Truth By Way of Fire Whiskey

21. The Beginning of the End

22. The End of The World As We Know It

23. The Final Battle

24. Epilogue

1. Prologue

Unsung Hero

by J&M Ink.

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Prologue

Note: J&M Ink. is an account shared by two authors on Portkey. In case you were wondering (and even if you weren’t) I am the “J” half. Never in my life did I think I would write an R/L fic, because never in my wildest dreams did I foresee them as a couple. But hey, change is good, so I’ll give it a try. Wish me luck!

~*~*~*~*~

Ron stood on the window’s sill and leaned against its frame, arms folded across his chest, watching as the sky painted itself with shades of pink, orange, purple and red. The sun glowed over the landscape, turning the hills it was setting behind black. It was a warm June evening, and he closed his blue eyes and tilted his chin up as a playful breeze made its way across his face. For a moment, the whole world seemed right. The fighting had died down, and everything was quiet. After two years of constant war, the silence should’ve made him panicky, not calm, but Harry was certain there was nothing to be worried about as of yet. The Few could relax and sleep soundly for at least one guaranteed night.

Like most of the members of the Few, Ron was young. At twenty-one years of age, most would’ve said he was too ignorant when it came to the ways of the world, too naive to be stuck in the middle of a war that would most definitely decide the fate of humanity. With a single glance at him, one would see a promising young man, but with a double-take, the shadows beneath his eyes would become apparent, announcing to all that he had lived more than his age should have permitted. His body was lean and built, the body of a warrior, a protector. His flame-red hair curled softly and hung to about his ears, and despite their heaviness, his ever-alert blue eyes shone with life. His lips parted in awe as, for the first time in a long while, he took in the beauty of the stars dotting the blackening sky. Natural black, for once, not infused with explosions and smoke as it had been for the past two years. As the wind picked up again, a shiver ran down his broad back. Peace wouldn’t stay long. Ron could feel something coming, coming on swift wings, but he wasn’t sure if it would be a curse or a blessing.

On the other side of the world, a young woman of twenty or so leaned on the rail of her balcony, watching the pastel sunrise that was cresting the nearby mountains. The very same wind passed by her, lingering long enough to caress her body and whisper words of comfort and destiny into her chosen ears. Her eyes closed and her soft mouth fell open slightly as the foreign air warmed her. She felt her long golden hair pick up and flutter around her face, but she paid it no mind. For too long she had been hidden in the cold, and the feel of something warm and loving all around her was overwhelming. But Luna sensed that this was no blissful wayward breeze. It was an informant, and she was the reciever of its news. As soon as it had passed, she turned and left the balcony and sunrise behind her. It was time to go back, time to live the life fate had chosen for her.

And so it began, with both a rising and a setting sun. The unlikeliest of romances during the unlikeliest of times, about to unfold and bear its hidden secrets to a world who’s inhabitants had long since forgotten how to live....

2. Love Let Linger

Chapter One

Love Let Linger

Ron smiled and whistled as he watched Harry’s lips meet Hermione’s in their first kiss as husband and wife. Sparks of every color imaginable flew from every wand in the clearing packed with wedding guests. When the couple broke apart, they were both covered in tears and smiles. Hand in hand, they turned and began to walk down the aisle. Harry looked over his shoulder and caught Ron’s eye before it was too late. Ron could remember a time when Harry had been happy like that, but it hadn’t been for many years. This wedding was just what the Few and the people they protected had needed. Proof that there were still things to live for in the world, hope that they would survive to see the end of the war and take up their own lives again. Harry, as the leader of the Few, had known he had needed some way to give his people faith again, and had picked the perfect way to do it. Old teachers and friends were crying and cheering. The whole feeling was enough to make even the coldest person smile. But even through such euphoria, Ron still had that same old feeling inside him.

With all of the attention focused on the new bride and groom, Ron slipped away from the clearing and made his ways through the trees, back to the castle. Hogwarts was much larger than it had been back when it was a school. Now, it served as a base for the ARMED, which stood for Allegiance Resisting Magical Eternal Dominance. Those who served ARMED were collectively called the “Few,” and they consisted of old Order of the Phoenix members as well as the newer generation of witches and wizards. Harry Potter was their Commander in Chief, and Ron was his right-hand man, his comrade, his most trusted member, his best friend. His sidekick. In the end, Ron knew that’s what it boiled down to. The sidekick. Nothing had changed since school, but Ron had learned to live with it, to accept it. He was respected just as much as Harry was, he was looked up to in the same way. The only difference between them was their destinies. Harry was the one chosen to defeat Voldemort. Ron was there to aid Harry, and it was a job he perfected and excelled at.

No, the role of sidekick wasn’t what was bothering Ron. His hands in his pockets, he made his way up the staircases and out to the North Tower. He climbed through the trap door that lead to the exposed top of the tower and settled himself against the stone parapet. He supported himself on his elbows and gazed up at the sky and blinked back at the endless array of stars. He was respected. He was followed. He was admired. He was a strong, smart, able-bodied wizard who had defeated many Death Eaters in the war. He had dealt with tragedies that had only strengthened him, not weakened him. He had made life-altering decisions and had come out on top. He was up there with the best of the best, he had everyone’s trust and esteem. But... He watched as his memories rewound and then played out in front of him. All those years when he had sat back and watched Harry and Hermione unknowingly fall in love with each other, how they had been when they had admitted it, and every little event that had lead up to today, the day they had pledged their hearts to each other....

He remembered the day Ginny had collapsed in his arms, how she had dissolved into uncontrolled tears, and poured her heart out to him about Draco. He remembered the day he passed Draco in the halls, and the two men had just stopped and stared at each other for a moment, not knowing what to say. He remembered the day he had seen Draco with his sister under the oak tree, and how he had surpressed his rage and had made himself wait to see what would happen, and then the way his heart went out to them when they had embraced for what could’ve been the last time. He remembered the day Draco returned to ARMED with the knowledge they had sent him for, the day the Few had accepted him, the day he had proved his sincerity about being part of their force, and how Ginny had ran into his trembling arms....

He recalled the day Albus Dumbledor had passed away, and how Professor McGonagall had knelt by his bed for a whole twenty-four hours, holding his cold hand and speaking soft words to the body who had once been the holding cell for a wonderful man she would’ve followed until the end of time, even died for, and the way she had cried for what Ron suspected was the first time ever....

What Ron didn’t have was love. Sure, he had the love and support of his friends and family, and he had the awe and admiration from those who were not part of the Few, those he was fighting every day to protect. But he didn’t have love. He had no one to hold close to him, no one to keep warm and happy. He never had. He didn’t need it, that’s what he told himself. He was a one-man show, that was for sure. It was better to be single, anyway. No one to worry about when he was off risking his life. No one to worry about him not coming back. But still, the look Harry had in his eyes every time he looked at Hermione seemed like it’s sole purpose was to haunt Ron.

He heard galloping coming towards the castle. Suddenly suspicious, he peered into the night to locate the approaching rider. They had no spies due back at the moment. Whoever was coming was someone they didn’t know. After a moment, his trained eyes picked out the traveller. It looked like a person -- woman, probably, since he knew no man with hair that long-- and she was riding her horse hard towards the castle doors. If he ran fast enough, they would both reach the doors at the same time. Ron bolted for the entrance.

~*~*~*~*~

As he had predicted, Ron reached the huge castle doors in time to meet the rider. He stood with his arms crossed in the middle of the hall as they slowly swung open and an attractive young woman poked her head inside. Ron doubted she could see him. Only a few of the torches along the wall were lit, and he was suspended in shadow. Sure enough, she stepped through the doorway and closed the door as silently as she could. Ron got a good look at her before he interrogated her. She must’ve been no more than a year his junior, maybe younger. She looked to be about medium height, equipped with a slender, willowy frame that she carried gracefully, even when her body was rigid with tension. She had straight, dirty blond hair that reached her lower back. Her mouth was open so she could breathe silently, and her wide blue eyes glanced nervously around as she padded closer to Ron. He felt as though he recognized her from somewhere, but he couldn’t allow that premonition to let his guard down. If he couldn’t immediatly identify her, she was a stranger, and strangers were threats.

“Who’re you?” He asked harshly, not moving from his hiding place. The woman jumped at the sound of his voice and looked around in surprise, trying to locate him through the darkness. Her hands moved over her robes, probably in search of her wand.

“Don’t even think about it,” Ron said, and she froze at the sound of his voice again. He smirked at the expression on her face, how nothing but her eyes moved. Slowly, he drew his own wand and whispered a word. All of the the flames in the torches were extinguished with an eerie hiss. Even through the pitch black, Ron could see the woman. He had been trained to see in anything. She flinched when the room went dark, but she didn’t move another muscle. She probably knew that Ron could see her.

Ron walked a full, wide circle around her before he began to close in. She was scared out of her mind, he could tell by the way her shoulders were hunched. She probably wasn’t a spy. More than likely, she had escaped from Hogsmede and had stumbled across the castle and was now looking to reside there. He’d have a little bit of fun first before he took her to Harry. Had to earn respect some way, didn’t he?

He came up right behind her, and gently placed his hand on the back of her neck. She flinched at his touch, but did nothing else. He didn’t apply pressure, just let his hand rest on her neck. She was very tense. ‘Good.’ Ron thought. ‘She should be. You can’t just walk into Hogwarts. She has every right to be afraid of me.’ He leaned in close to her and whispered into her ear, making sure she could feel every breath he released.

“What’s your name?” He asked quietly.

“Luna,” She replied solidly, and Ron admitted to himself that he was impressed. She was terrified, but her voice didn’t show any sign. And her name was Luna... hadn’t he known a Luna from somewhere before?

“What’re you doing here, Luna? Why are you at Hogwarts so late at night?”

“I need to see Harry Potter,” She said.

“And what buisness do you have with Harry Potter?”

“That’s confidential,” She quipped. Ron grinned. She had spunk, this one.

“Who sent you, Luna?”

“I sent me.”

Ron laughed softly at her response, and felt Luna shiver. He was right, she probably just was a villager looking for a place to stay. He had spooked her enough. He stepped away from her and spoke a word that lit up every torch in the hall. Luna blinked at the sudden appearance of light, and then turned to face him. She was beautiful, Ron had to admit. And now that he could see her properly, he was positive they had met before. She must’ve noticed it, too. She squinted at him for a moment, as if she was trying to picture the man before her a few years younger. Ron watched as recognition filled her eyes.

“Ronald? Ronald Weasley?”

With a jolt of memory, he knew her. One good look, and...yes, the resemblance was there. The voice was the same, too. And she had called him Ronald.

“Luna Lovegood?”

3. Old Insanities

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Two

Old Insanities

“She wants what?!” Ron exclaimed the next morning, slamming the desk with his hands. Harry ran his fingers through his hair.

“She wants to be part of the Few. She wants to join ARMED.”

“Luna Lovegood, part of the Few? Harry, have you gone mad? She’s insane! They called her Loony back in school, remember?”

“Lower your voice, Ron,” Harry snapped, pushing himself out his chair and standing. “We need all the help we can get these days. Didn’t you learn anything from Draco? We need to put our childhood differences behind us. She has vaulable information, anyway. We could use her as a spy.”

“What valuable information is that, Harry?” Ron fumed. “Has her father finally found a Rumpled Snorkac, or whatever it was? How can Loony Lovegood help ARMED against the Death Eaters?”

“Ron,” Harry said in his stern commander voice. “I have decided to let Luna join us. You are to apologize to for the scare you gave her last night, you are to treat her with the same respect you give everyone, and you are forbidden from calling her ‘Loony Lovegood,’ is that understood?”

Ron scowled at Harry, but knew it wouldn’t matter. Without so much as a “yes sir”, he turned and left the room. He would follow Harry’s orders because he was sure Harry had a just reason for issuing them, but he didn’t have to admit it. Loony Lovegood. How could she aid them? What did she know that was so important?

“Uncle Ronny!” He heard someone screech. He turned around and saw no one. He looked down and smiled at the little girl running his way. He stooped down to her height and scooped her into his arms.

“Arianne! How’s my girl?” He said, planting a kiss on her plump cheek. Ari giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. Ron’s niece was five years old. She had Draco’s long, pale blond hair and Ginny’s electric blue eyes. Her younger sister, three year old Gabriella, had inherited the famous Weasley hair and the seriously gray Malfoy eyes. Ron loved his nieces to death, but he had to admit, Ari was much more extroverted and cheerful than Ella, who was stoic and silent most of the time. It had taken him a while, but he had finally come to terms with his brother-in-law, though being directly related to the Malfoys was sometimes a concept he still had a hard time grasping.

“Uncle Ronny, have you met the new lady?” Ari gushed as Ron lifted her onto his shoulders. She ran her tiny fingers through his hair and Ron spun her around in a circle before taking them to the Great Hall. “Mommy started to cry when she saw her. Her name is Luna. Do you know her? She’s really, really pretty.”

“Is she, now?” Ron asked, trying to sound cheerful. “I might’ve met her, Ari. I guess you’ll have to point her out to me if she’s in the Great Hall. It’s breakfast time. You hungry?”

Ari bounced on his shoulders in reply, and Ron laughed. They reached the Hall, and Ron let Ari push the door open. He set her down on the floor and she ran over to her father. Draco raised a hand in greeting when he saw Ron, and Ron gestured back, then looked around the noisy Hall for anybody to sit with. He spotted Hermione sipping coffee at an empty table situated in a sunny corner. She was absorbed in a newspaper and still wearing the red tank top and loose black pants that had served as her pajamas. Her curly chestnut hair was pulled back in a messy-but-sexy ponytail, and despite the positions she and her husband held in the war, her cinnamon eyes still sparkled happily. Ron trotted over to her and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Morning, Mrs. Potter,” He said, taking the chair across from her. A cup of tea appeared in front of him, as well as a plate of toast. Hermione smiled and lowered her paper.

“It’s so odd to be called that,” She said to him as he took a bite of his toast. “It hasn’t really sunk in that Harry and I are finally married.”

“ ‘Course not. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, and plus I doubt either of you got any time with each other last night, what with the appearance of Luna and all,” Ron said.

In fact, he hadn’t had much sleep either. They had all been up, waiting for Harry and Luna to discuss whatever needed to be discussed. It had taken quite a while, and Ron had eventually given up and had gone searching for some shut-eye.

“Do you have any idea what Luna wanted?” He asked.

“Actually, I was hoping you did. Harry told me nothing except she wanted to be part of the Few and he was allowing it,” Hermione admitted.

“Yeah, that’s what he told me, too. Where did she come from, anyway? And why now, of all times? And what can she do for us?” Ron thought aloud.

Hermione shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, but I’m sure Harry has a reason for keeping it under wraps, and he’ll tell us about it as soon as he thinks it’s time.”

“Yeah, but that still doesn’t answer my questions.” Ron grumbled into his coffee cup.

Hermione watched him for a moment, and then went back to her newspaper. They were quiet for a while until Ron felt something tug at his shirt. Confused, he looked down. It was Ari.

“That’s her, Uncle Ronny. In the door, do you see her? That’s the lady Luna.”

Ron looked up and unintentionally held his breath when he saw her. Ari was right, Luna was beautiful. He had noticed it the night before, but now, with introductions made and all questionings aside, Ron was really able to see it. What had happened since school? Or had he just never noticed it? Dreamily, she looked around, spotted Ginny, and smiled a smile that said she was still half asleep. Without even thinking, Ron looked her up and down as she passed their table without even a glance of recognition at him. His eyes landed on her neck, and he smirked when he noticed the necklace of butterbeer caps. At least her radish earrings were gone.

She moved with a fluid grace across the Hall. Everyone she passed fell dead silent and watched as though in a trance. Did they recognize her, or was she just still odd enough to command the attention of everyone around her?

“Do you know her, Uncle Ronny?” Ari whispered when Luna had passed them. It hadn’t registered to Ron that Ari had said something. He watched as Luna pushed her golden cascade of hair behind her ear and sat down across from Ginny. “Uncle Ronny?”

“Yes, I know her, Ari. Stay and chat with Aunt Hermione for a moment, would you?” He said quietly as he stood and lifted the little girl into his seat. He quickly ran a hand through is untidy red curls and walked over to Ginny and Luna. Ginny glanced up when she saw her brother coming and raised a slender eyebrow at him. He stopped behind Luna and cleared his throat. Luna cut herself off mid-sentence and turned to look up at him.

“Can we help you, Ronald?” She asked in her wispy way. Ron gulped. He wasn’t good at apologies.

“Er, um, could I take a moment of your time?” He asked, averting his eyes from hers as he spoke. Luna smirked and opened her mouth to say something, but a scream shattered the Great Hall before she could. Everyone looked up in time to see Gabriella trying to wriggle out of Draco’s hands.

“I DON’T LIKE EGGS!” She wailed, and Ron noticed the upturned plate on the ground next to Ella’s seat. Ginny sighed and looked to Ron and Luna.

“You two have fun talking. I have to go save my husband.”

Luna watched her go and laughed quietly as Ron took Ginny’s empty seat. Eventually, her eyes wandered back to him and she smiled.

“I suppose I’m the one you wanted to talk to, Ronald?”

“Please, just call me Ron, Luna,” He said, using all the strength he had to look her in the eyes. “And yes, you’re the one I want to talk to. I want to--”

“Apologize for last night?” She interrupted. “It’s quite alright, Ronald. You were doing your duty, questioning those you don’t know. Though, I was put out that you didn’t recognize me right away. And you did give me quite a fright.”

“And for that I’m sorry,” He said, not knowing what else to say. So she was still a bit of a lunatic. Some things just never change.

“And you are forgiven,” Luna said, nodding her head at him. He felt like he owed her more than an apology, but he wanted to go back to Hermione or someone he knew he could talk to without having his tongue and brain get tangled up in the process.

“I’ll be on my way, then,” He said as he stood. “Oh, and, um... congratulations on joining the Few. I’m sure you’ll fit in...perfectly with the rest of us,” He added awkwardly. Luna, who had pulled a book from out of nowhere, nodded absently and thanked him. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Ron walked away. Hermione was the only one who saw Luna glance over her

shoulder at Ron and smirk in satisfaction.

“Until next time, Ronald,” Luna said to his retreating back, and Hermione, who had the talent of reading lips, smiled, shook her head, and cracked her paper back open.

~*~*~*~*~

“Close the door please, Draco,” Harry said.

Knowing Harry hadn’t called this private meeting just to chat about the weather, Draco did as he was told and took the seat across from his commander. In the silence that followed, Draco took the time to inspect his friend. If you hadn’t attended the day before, you wouldn’t have been able to tell that Harry had just been married to the love of his life. His black hair was messier than it usually was, and his emerald eyes were heavy with the burden of one who was too young to have experienced all that he had. A lot of the time, it was hard to remember that Harry was only twenty-one, just like Draco was. At this particular moment, he had his head in his hands, his fingers lost in his hair. After five minutes of no words, Harry slowly looked up at Draco.

“What is it, Harry?” Draco asked, knowing that look in his eyes too well. Something was wrong.

Harry sighed and put his head down again. “I’m sure you know about Luna by now. She came with information from the North. The Death Eaters have a new weapon, and a new person

taking orders from Voldemort. She thinks the base is somewhere near Alaska. You’re the best of the best, Draco. I know you just got back from your Australian mission, but I’m going to have to ask you to do this one, too. I need Ron here to train the recruits, otherwise I’d send him...”

“There’s no need to apologize to me, Harry,” Draco said. “Espionage is a constantly moving, dangerous job. I knew that when I agreed to become a spy.”

Harry nodded. “You have tonight to get ready, but we’d like you out by tomorrow. The quicker you’re gone, the quicker we can get you back here and out of harm’s way. Be extra careful, Draco. Luna says Lucius is part of the main organization. Find out whatever you can, but don’t go hunting for answers to the hard questions. We can deal with those later. Right now, we just need base information.”

Draco nodded and stood to go. He wanted to spend as much time with his wife and daughters as he could. He got to the door, and then turned back to his commander. “Harry? How does Luna know so much about this?”

Harry had gone back to staring out of the window. He shook his head and closed his eyes.

“I just don’t know, Draco.”

~*~*~*~*~

Note: Review, you wonderful readers of mine, review! If I get enough, then maybe, just maybe, I’ll post the next chapter, and a little surprise, too.

Contructive critisism will be greatly appreciated, but please, nothing too derogatory. This is my story, and I’ve worked very hard on it. Thanks bunches to any and all of you who have taken the time to read my first fic!

4. Dawn of Discovery

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: As of now, I have had 244 hits and a grand total of 7 reviews, and I just posted this story last night. Guys, thank you sooo much for taking the time to read it. I know Ron/Luna ships aren’t that popular right now, so I really appreciate your interest in my little fic. An even bigger thanks to those of you who took the extra minute to review. Your comments mean a lot to me! Thanks for all the suggestions!

Eyes91: I responded to your review, in case you didn’t get it. I was hoping I was the only one who noticed that tiny inconsistency, but apparently, I wasn’t (and I applaud you for seeing it, even though I wish I had caught it before publicizing the fic!). Your ideas on how I should fix this minor error would be greatly appreciated. Email me at: MusicLuvr290@cs.com

Chapter Three

Dawn of Discovery

Draco was gone by dawn the next morning. Ron said his goodbyes and then wandered his way through the castle. He was having a hard time sleeping these days. There seemed to be this weight on his chest that he couldn’t properly explain. Two days of quiet, and it had seemed like an eternity for him. Did Harry feel it too? Ron wondered what was going through his best friend’s head. There was so much pressure on him, so much he shouldn’t have to know. But the whole world was like that since the War. Everyone was growing up much faster than they should’ve had to. Even Ron’s nieces were learning complex magic and combat. No one liked it, but what other choice did they have?

Someone needed to win the War soon. The Muggles had been pulled into the whole thing a long time ago. More than half of their population had been wiped out by Voldemort in an effort to exhaust the power of the Few. Schools of magic all over the world had been converted into sanctuaries for the Muggles, bases for the Few. Hogwarts was one of the nicer ones, since it was the primary base. Hogsmede was the next closest, and while it didn’t hold a candle to the castle. Most of the power of the Few went into keeping the castles hidden from the forces of the Death Eaters, but day by day, they were growing weaker. Weaker was what the Death Eaters were aiming for. Everyone knew they were trying to break the Few by throwing stupid little problems at them. They knew that, eventually, the Few would snap and wouldn’t be able to fight off a major attack. Harry Potter would eventually die, and without Harry, what would happen to the Few? Harry knew he was the main target of Voldemort, and that’s why he had trained Ron, so if one day Harry fell, Ron would be able to take over. But how long would it take for the Death Eaters to figure that out? Ron was in as much jeopardy as his best friend, and he never allowed himself to forget it. He wanted to sharpen himself as much as possible, because one look at his nieces and all of the other children in the castle, children who were born in the middle of a War they didn’t understand, born just to fill armor and raise swords one day, or born to try and reinforce some faith in the cause of the Few... one glance at them, and Ron knew it was worth it, knew it through and through and never doubted his place in the War. He wasn’t fighting for him, he was fighting for them, so they would be able to one day live normal lives.

When Ron finally looked up, he was in the Quidditch stands. The sky was a dusty mix of black and gray as the night prepared to surrender itself to the day. A cool, gentle breeze blew across the field, bending the overgrown blades of grass. Ron closed his eyes and lifted his face into the wind’s caress. And then he heard the sobs. Startled, he glanced around him. Sitting in one of the top stands was Luna Lovegood, her head collapsed in her hands, her body shaking from the tears she was trying so hard to stifle. Concerned, Ron ascended the stairs until he came to her row, and he slowly took a seat beside her.

“Luna?” He asked gently, gingerly placing a hand on her shoulder. Luna didn’t answer him. “Luna, what’s wrong?”

Luna choked down a sob and sniffed, raising her head and wiping her eyes and nose with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. I...I lost control of myself, I think. I’ll be going now. Don’t mind me, Ronald.” She stood to go, but Ron grabbed her wrist and stopped her. She turned and looked at him through puffy red eyes.

“No, stay and talk to me. What’s wrong?” Ron said, standing so he could look at her easier. Was he crazy? Why did he suddenly care why Luna Lovegood was crying? It was probably just PMS or something else that wasn’t his business and he should just let it go. ‘But you can’t just let her go like this. She’s your partner now.’ He said to himself as he looked down at Luna, making it plainly obvious that he wasn’t about to let her walk away.

Luna looked up at Ron, her wide blue eyes watery and sad, and he stared right back. Slowly, the look she was giving him changed. It was...softer...it was a look he had never been given before, therefore it couldn’t be explained. His lips parted and he took a deep breath, feeling as though he could never look away from her as long as she held that beautiful stare in her eyes. Then, with an almost audible snap, her eyebrows drew together in a glare. She shook her head, and silver droplets of tears flew from the corners of her eyes. She yanked her wrist back.

“Oh, why do you care anyway, Ron?” She shouted.

Surprised, Ron took a step back from Luna. She looked like she was going to try and push past him, but instead she sat down on the stands again and buried her fingers in her hair as she began to cry fresh tears.

“Why would you care? No one else does, what makes you so different from them? Damn you all, I don’t know why I even came here. I thought...I thought maybe I could help. Instead, I just made things worse, didn’t I? I got Draco sent off to Alaska, I ruined Harry and Hermione’s wedding. And I doubt it’s going to stop there. Oh no. I’ll have to be the bringer of bad news again, and again, and again, because they had to chose me. I had to be the one they gave their stupid blessing to.

“And you know what else, Ron? I see the way everyone looks at me. You all still think I’m crazy, don’t you? Even all these years later, I’m nothing but Loony Lovegood to everyone. Ginny was the only person I could actually talk to, and now she hates me for getting Draco sent off on another mission. Does anyone here have any idea what it’s like to have absolutely no one to talk to for your whole life? So why do you care, Ron? Or did you just come out here to shove it all in my face like everyone else?”

She punched the seat she was on and collapsed in on herself again. Ron saw the dent she had left in the metal stand and, hoping his face wouldn’t turn out the same way, pulled her to her feet again and wrapped both of his strong arms around her slender body.

“I care, Luna. I care because we’re in this together now. You, me, and the rest of the Few. We’re all partners, we’re all family. And I don’t think you’re crazy.”

He was telling the truth. He didn’t think she was insane anymore. She was a living, breathing, feeling person just like he was. Why had it taken him so long to realize it? She obviously had her problems, and she had dealt with them in unordinary ways during school, but just because she hadn’t been one hundred percent normal hadn’t given them the right to harass her. He felt Luna shift under his hold and sob into his chest. He held her a bit tighter and smoothed her hair with his hand. She needed a friend, needed comfort, and even though he didn’t like admitting it, so did he.

“Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?” Luna sniffed, pulling back from him and looking up. Ron was very aware of the delicate, warm hands that were braced against his chest, and he hoped she didn’t feel his heart beat begin to race. He scolded himself for being silly and tried to calm himself down so he could answer her.

“Because you deserve to be nice to.” He said, knowing he was speaking the truest words that had escaped his lips in many years. “Because we were all wrong all those years in school. I, for one, am very sorry. And just because I’m apologizing...that doesn’t erase those years, doesn’t blot out all the turmoil you had to go through. You shouldn’t have to forgive any of us. But now...now we’re adults, Luna, we’re not stupid little schoolkids. We’re fully grown powerful witches and wizards living in a very real world. You’re part of that, you always have been. I guess we were all just too dense to realize it.”

He raised his head and looked off into the distance, relying on the sunrise to cover his blush. Every part of his body that made contact with hers was burning, aching. He was aware of every little breath she took, everything she did. He wasn’t sure what he thought about it, and he decided to ignore it, like he did for everything he couldn’t explain. Pretend it’s not there and it will eventually go away. But this time, it was not working.

He felt Luna reach one of her hands up and touch his cheek. His eyes instantly shot down as fire raced through his body. Startled, Luna pulled back a little. When she saw that she hadn’t angered him, she caressed his face again and smiled at him with her mouth and her eyes. Slowly, because he didn’t know what else to do, Ron placed his hand over hers. What was going on with him? Luna’s eyes softened when Ron touched her, and she shuffled herself a little bit closer to him. At first, Ron’s body went tense. He wasn’t used to having a woman this close, let alone this tender. It was an alien feeling, but he couldn’t help but love every moment of it. Impulse took over.

He slid his hand down her arm, over her shoulder, and up her neck. He took her chin in his fingers and lifted her head, then bent his and kissed her sweetly on her lips. He felt her gasp, and then hesitantly kiss him back. It was an insane sensation, kissing Luna, firstly because Ron had never kissed or been kissed before, and secondly because that feeling he hadn’t been able to identify found some possible way to intensify. The sun was rising in the sky, bright and glorious, and he felt like he was rising with it. He wanted to kiss her and hold onto her forever. Caught up in the moment, Ron slid his hand back down Luna’s neck and around to the the base of her head. Luna’s hands moved upward from Ron’s chest, and she settled her arms around his neck. As their bodies pressed closer into each other’s, their mouths opened a bit wider, finally accepting the attraction that had been dancing between them the whole time. All Ron could feel was Luna’s warmth, Luna’s touch, everything about Luna. ‘How can this be happening to me, of all people, with her, of all people? Something so amazing...I just don’t get it.’ He thought as gently, they pulled away from each other. Ron opened his eyes and looked down at Luna. The way she was staring at him sent enjoyable shivers down his spine. ‘Eh, what the hell.’ He thought, and kissed her again, and again, and again...

Note: Ack! It’s my first fluff chapter! *wrings hands nervously* How was it? Dome, I know you told me not to rush things, but...well, I sort of have the first ten chapters already done. lol But get ready for a lot of twists and turns, guys! I promise this won’t be a regular full-of-fluff fic!

5. Dancing

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Four

Dancing

Twenty minutes later, Ron was striding through the halls of Hogwarts once again, the Quidditch field scene playing over and over in his mind. For a while, they had been lost in the sensation of whatever had gone on between them, but then reality had hit, and had hit hard. They were teammates, they were allies, but they weren’t lovers. That kind of attraction wasn’t there anyway, Ron was sure of it. It must’ve just been the moment: The sunrise, the damsel in distress, the heartwarming hero, all of that sickeningly sweet junk building and building until it had peaked in those kisses.

They were adults, Ron and Luna, not hormone-driven teenagers. When they had at last pulled away and looked at each other, the moment had become terribly awkward, and after a few hasty promises and an agreement that the scene had never even happened, they had both been on their way. But that didn’t mean Ron couldn’t think about it, right? Her warmth and softness, the fire that had burned inside of him...it couldn’t be dismissed, no matter how hard he tried. Not that he was sure he wanted it to go away, either. Not that he was sure of anything at the moment, as a matter of fact.

One thing he was sure of, though, was the time. It was almost 7 o’clock, and that meant it was almost time for weapons training out on the greens. Ron rushed to his room and changed, then grabbed his sword, wand, bow and quiver as he left. He made it on the greens in just enough time to catch his breath and stretch out his muscles. Once that was over with, he slipped a glove on his right hand and picked up his sword.

It was long and sharp and beautiful in that deadly way only allowed to swords and women. The hilt was white gold inlaid with an angry looking black onyx. Ten diamonds spiraled themselves through the onyx inlay, and ten black pearls dotted the white gold. The blade itself was made of a light steel that was resistant to scratches, dents, and any other types of injuries swords could acquire. Ron had found it laying by his side one morning in his 7th year, and hadn’t understood until later that day, when Harry had faced Voldemort and the War officially began with the death of Albus Dumbledore. Since that day, Ron’s sword was never very far from his side, and he had learned to wield it with deadly precision, vowing one day to slay Bellatrix Lestrange with it and avenge the deaths of his loved ones whose lives she had taken: his mother, his father, his brothers Charlie, Percy, and George, and even Sirius Black. Each sunrise brought the birth of a new day, and with it was the knowledge that it was one less day until that fatal battle.

It was Thursday, and that meant it was Ron’s day to train the morning class. Soon after his arrival, Ron’s pupils began to assemble themselves on the training grounds. Though the combat classes were open to whoever wanted to learn, Ron had a healthy amount of regulars, including Hermione (who attended as many trainings in one day as she could), his older brothers Fred and Bill, Neville Longbottom, Ginny, Seamus Finnigan, and about fifteen or so Muggles. Ron’s classes were only for the most experienced fighters, especially the morning class. It took a lot of determination and attention to drag one’s self out of bed every Thursday morning, whether it was pouring, snowing, or shining outside, and practice weapons until noon. But Ron was very proud of his Thursday early birds. At practices, they were free to joke around during breaks and playfully insult one another while locked together at the hilt, but on the battlefield...Ron had witnessed each and every one of them kill at least one Death Eater with impeccable skill and grace. “Proud” was an understatement.

“Free class today, my darlings,” he said to them cheerfully. Between Luna’s appearance and the Quidditch field episode, he hadn’t had the time to put a lesson together for that morning. Not that it mattered. With all of them free to fight in whatever style they chose, the session would not go to waste. Nobody wasted any time, either. Happy for their freedom, Ron’s students picked up swords, spears, daggers, and bows and filtered off to do their own thing. Hermione and Ginny started to spar, and about seven or so other pairs followed their lead. Neville and Seamus ventured fifty feet to the archery range and engaged themselves in a shooting contest. Not wanting to be left out of the action, Ron picked up his own weapon with a sigh and began to swing it around, warming up.

After his arms were ready to wield the sword, Ron began to practice solo moves, fighting with an invisible partner. He lunged, stepped, twirled and slashed, his eyes flicking back and forth as they thought of new steps for his deadly dance. A few of his students had stopped dueling to admire their master’s skill. Ron paid no attention to them as his sword came up and he spun around in a very sharp pirouette.

To his surprise, he heard the unmistakable sound of metal striking metal, and felt the resistance of another blade pressing against his. He glanced over his shoulder. Luna Lovegood had both hands wrapped around the hilt of her own sword, and her shoulders were hunched over as she blocked Ron’s spin. She glanced up at him through a few strands of blonde hair that had fallen out of their binding behind her head. Ron raised an eyebrow at her, and she raised one back in response, and then with a flick of her wrist, she seperated their blades. She was going to come back for more, Ron could tell. He reversed his spin and came back the way he had originated, meeting Luna’s sword with a shower of sparks as she came down from a high blow. They both seperated and danced backwards at the same moment. By now, all of Ron’s pupils were watching with interest, wanting to see if their teacher could out-duel this newcomer. And Ron could tell that Luna wasn’t an amateur swordsman. One glance at the weapon braced in her slender hands said it all.

The blade was long, thin and fine, quite like it’s owner. It was made of an almost bluish tinted metal Ron was finding a difficult time identifying. The hilt was a glistening, intense silver, and scattered over the hilt in no particular pattern were a number of burnished sapphires, some the size of Ron’s thumbnail, some so small they were more like glittery dust, not jewels. The whole thing looked like it should be hanging from a wall, a pretty piece of art, but at the same time, Ron could feel power reverberating from it. Luna’s was no ordinary sword, and he doubted Luna’s own presence wasn’t an ordinary happening. Right now, however, he just wanted to duel her, not figure her out. Slowly, he moved to his left. Luna responded by inching to her right. Then, simultaneously, they sprang at each other.

Their minute crowd roared as Ron and Luna danced together in the duel. A fleeting step here, a jab there, then spin around to parry the blow coming from the other side, step, lunge, slash...it went like this for some time. Every now and then, their blades would slide together, and their bodies would move in close as they were locked together at the hilt, both grappling for dominence of the battle, both refusing to look away from the other’s gaze. Then they would break away from each other and dance around their invisible circle until they would come together again.

The minutes ticked by until a whisper went through the assembled spectators that the newcomer and their teacher had been going at it without stop for about an hour. Sweat was running down Ron’s face, his red curls dark and damp against his forehead. Physically, though, he knew he could keep fighting Luna for much longer. She was a very formidable opponent, and though she was just as sweat-soaked as he was, she showed no sign of slowing down or strain. What Ron did notice about her was her hair. Enough of it had fallen from her pony tail that it was starting to affect her vision. When they would break away, she would shake it back and miss a beat in their rhythmic engagement, giving Ron the upper hand and the chance to come at her and catch her off of her guard. She had a good recovery system, though, and Ron knew he would have to find another way to stay on the top of this fight.

And then it happened. Luna lunged at Ron, and Ron swiveled behind her, and even though it was bound together by a scrunchie, her hair was still long and got caught in the path of Ron’s blade as he brought it back up to block whatever retaliation she came up with. The scrunchie cut in half and fell to the ground as Luna’s hair cascaded down and around her face. Furiously, she whipped around and crouched in an angry stance, glaring at Ron as he looked at the fallen hair tie, bewildered. Making sure he was still on the defense, he glanced up at Luna and realized she thought he had cheated. Guilt struck his stomach in a painful pang, and he wanted to explain that it had been an accident, but he doubted Luna would believe him. Either that, or she would take his apology and twist it against him to catch him off guard.

He stared back at her, hoping she could read his eyes and understand he hadn’t meant it. Instead of understandment dawning upon her, Luna flashed him an evil smirk, and suddenly, the wind picked up. Her hair, now free of it’s shackle, fanned out around her head and her robes whipped around her, clinging to her body, which caused Ron a moment of distraction. The wind’s direction suddenly changed, raging at Ron from the right, the side that was his sword arm. He was having trouble keeping his weapon up against the gale, but Luna seemed to have no trouble moving through it. She came at Ron and met his sword in the middle. Eyes wide, Ron frantically backed up, trying desperately to get himself under control again. Luna’s eyes were fixed in concentration as she fought him, each blow she released becoming harder and harder to fight off.

Suddenly, the wind died. No single wayward gust blew across the greens. Ron, who had just gotten used to the added pressure, was caught unaware. Luna didn’t miss a beat. She took a step forward, and with an intricate swirl of her sword, she sent Ron’s blade flying, and Ron himself falling on his back. Half a second later, the tip of Luna’s sword was pressed gently against the soft skin of Ron’s neck. He dared not gulp, in case her weapon really was as sharp as it looked, and allowed his eyes to travel up the length of blade, into Luna’s face. She smirked at him again, all charm this time, no evil.

“I win,” She whispered down to him.

“I didn’t mean to cut your scrunchie. You hair got in the way of my sword,” He whispered back.

Luna laughed lightly and tossed her sword beside him in the grass, then reached a hand down to help Ron up. The crowd had broken into a raucous applause, but whether they were showing appreciation for Luna’s advanced swordsmanship, or had just enjoyed watching their teacher finally lose a sparring match, Ron couldn’t tell. He just laughed and then turned to Luna and bowed, congratulating her for the win. She dipped her head at him in acknowledgement, then went to fetch her sword. Ron patted his hands in the air, singaling for the bystanders to quiet down. Glancing up at the sun, he realized it was noon.

“Practice is over. I hope you all got a good workout today.” He called to those in the crowd who were his students. They laughed and filtered off to the castle for lunch. Rubbing the back of his neck and trying to remember the last time he had lost a match, Ron gathered his weapons and looked around, trying to tell himself he was making sure he hadn’t forgot anything and that he wasn’t looking for Luna. Neither she nor any stray weapons were left on the greens. Ron felt his shoulders slump in disappointment, and then scolded himself silently before making his own way back to the castle.

6. Espionage in the Works

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: I seem to have run across a bit of a plot inconsistency. You see, for Ari and Ella to be 5 and 3, Ginny would have had to have had Ari at about age 16. So, I have decided to change things up: from this point forward, Ari and Ella are twins and are three years old. That still makes Ginny a young mother, but it’s the best I can do without making dramatic changes to the whole story. Sorry for the inconvenience!

Chapter Five

Espionage in the Works

All his life, Draco had lied. He’d lied to get into things, he’d lied to get out of things. Never in his wildest dreams, though, had he thought lying would be his greatest talent and that it would be the main thing he did in his life. But in war spies were necessary, and there was no one more perfect for the position of spy than Draco.

Of course, Draco had grown up since his school days, and it had been his father’s fault. Lucius had killed Narcissa, his wife and Draco’s mother, just to prove his loyalty to Voldemort. Though Narcissa had been a Malfoy, she wasn’t what you’d call evil, or even really mean. Her murder had enraged Draco, and he had come very close to going out and killing his father. But then, on the day he had chosen to sneak out of school and track Lucius down, he had woken up with a mysterious sword plunged through his trunk.

The blade had a slight curve to it and was so silver it was almost white. When caught in the right lighting, Draco had discovered his sword glinted scarlet. Upon his testing it, Draco had also learned that with the slightest amount of pressure added to it, the blade was capable of pierceing flesh straight through (he still had the scar on his finger). The hilt was midnight black and encrusted in small rubies that glittered darkly during battle.

Upon recieving this treasure, Draco had been excited. Perhaps he could find a way to enchant the sword so there was no way his father could avoid a slow, painful death. He had pulled it out of the trunk and held it in his lap. As he did, he had felt different. He wanted revenge, thirsted for it, but a bloody, vengeful murder...that would be his father’s way out. And how much did he not want to be like his father? If he could house that kind of anger, he would be an asset to Voldemort, and he didn’t want to get caught up in the betrayl and bloodshed that accompanied that wizard.

Later that day, he accidentally walked in on a group of Gryffindors he had grown up hating. Before he could even utter an insult, Draco found himself fighting side-by-side with Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville as they helped Harry face Voldemort once again. He had streaked through the silent halls and grabbed his sword and gone back to the fray. During the process of that night, Dumbledore had finally been defeated, and Voldemort had been driven away for the time being. Draco had killed two Death Eaters, neither of whom he recognized. While everyone tried to sort everything out, Draco had gone off in search of serenity, to get away from the guilt of the lives he had taken, but the feeling would not leave him.

Ginny found him in the library, head in his hands, sword in his lap, shoulders shaking from shock, not tears. Sitting across from him, she had consoled him without knowing why, and he had confessed everything to her, because she was the only one there and she was easy to talk to, and for once in his life, Draco just wanted to let go of everything. She had hugged him hesitantly after they had finished, and had left the library to go and see what was going on in the rest of the castle.

After that, life had been hell for Draco. There was nothing like a life-threatening battle to bring you close to people and a cause you normally would scorn, and Draco wanted more than anything to be part of the Few and contribute to the destruction of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Close or not, he knew Harry and Ron didn’t trust him, even if Ginny did, and to be part of the Few, he needed to earn the trust of those in power. They had allowed him to stay in Hogwarts, and after a few years, Ginny had talked Harry and Ron into giving Draco an assignment, saying that he wanted to be trusted and being a spy for the enemy was the perfect way to prove his worth and sincerity. They had agreed and had sent Draco out to gather information about an attack Voldemort was planning against the base at Beauxbatons. When Draco had returned to Hogwarts two months later, the Few had learned that not only had he found out the information, he had found a way to prevent the assualt. By the time he had relayed the information to Hogwarts, it would’ve been too late, so he single-handedly ended the conspiracy.

Immediately, Harry had let Draco be part of the Few, even giving Draco the top position available in the line of spy work. Ginny and Draco realized they were meant to be together, and after a few weeks of terseness from Ron, the two men had become friends of sorts. And then, Arianne had come along, followed by Gabriella. Despite the constant battles and missions, Draco was happy with the life he was leading, being on the good side for once. If there had been any thoughts of evil in his head, they were erased when Ari and Ella were born. How could he be heartless enough to try and destroy the world when his own flesh and blood and the love of his life were on the “to be destroyed” list?

And now, once again, he was away from home on field duty. It needed to be done to win the war, but he wished he could be back at Hogwarts with Ginny and the girls, just being a normal family. It pained him so when he saw Ella being taught how to use a dagger and Ari learning beginner’s battle magic. They were too young to be burdened with such knowledges, but what else was there to do? Every able-bodied person needed to be ready for whatever battles were planned in the future.

With a sigh, Draco pulled the Invisibility Cloak tighter around his wiry frame as he reached the top of the snow-capped hill and looked down at the elegant white castle below him. It was snowing thickly enough that any tracks he made would be covered in minutes, but just in case, Draco spoke a word that would allow him to walk anywhere he wanted without leaving any type of prints.

The magic was the work of the Spell Caster. Harry was the Commander, Ron was the Warrior, and Draco was the Spy. All of them were poweful figures to aid the Few, but none of them contributed to the cause like the Spell Caster did. Rumor had it that not even Harry knew the identity of the Spell Caster. Whoever they were, they had never given themselves a gender

or a location as to where they could be found. No one even knew what the Spell Caster looked like or sounded like. Every now and then, though, Harry would hold a meeting for the Few and present to them directions for a new Spell or Curse, or a new recipe for Potions or Charms. Whoever the Spell Caster was, he or she worked solely for the Few and had some way of obtaining inside information. Whenever a battle was about to happen, or someone was going on a particularly dangerous mission, the Few would be given these unique magical gifts, and not one of them complained. The enemy did, though, which was probably why the identity of the Spell Caster was kept so heavily guarded.

This was how Draco kept his mind busy, by thinking of home. His friends, his family, their cause, their allies. But he was nearing the castle now, and the front doors were heavily guarded by trolls with spiked clubs. Not that he would go through the main entrance anyway, but it was still worth a glance. It was time to focus on the task at hand. Memories of home would have to wait until he was making his way back to Hogwarts. Hopefully, the quicker he got this done, the quicker he would be in the arms of his wife and daughters. With a deep breath, he began to walk a circuit around the castle, looking for an alternate route in.

~*~*~*~*~

There were spells all over the castle. Their subtle golden glint shone in Draco’s eyes thanks to some eyedrops fashioned by the Spell Caster to show where Protection Charms had been placed. He circled the large castle twice, looking for an alternate entrance or exit. To his surprise, there were no other doors and no windows, save the balcony on the highest tower in the entire castle. Focusing on the balcony, he muttered a complicated, ancient word. Slowly, his feet lifted off of the ground. Draco flew lazily up to the tower and landed softly on the rail of the balcony. Noiselessly, he jumped onto the floor and looked around. All he could see were the snow-capped mountains and the open entrance that led out to the balcony. Seeing no spells around the doorframe, Draco slipped through it.

He found himself in a warm, elaborately furnished room that was heavily guarded with Anti-Listening Spells. Two men sat on seperate chaise lounges, deep in conversation. They were Death Eaters by the black hoods that were covering their heads and faces. Draco stopped dead in the middle of the room and listened intently, hoping he hadn’t missed anything of great importance. To his dread, the man who had been talking cut off abrubtly and looked to the balcony.

“What is it?” His companion asked.

The first man shook his hooded head. “Nothing. I just thought I felt...I don’t know, like a presence in here or something.”

“Well, they do say this place is haunted,” said the second man. The first one nodded warily and went on with where he had left off.

“Anyway, Damien says she’s just up and disappeared. This very room was where she was kept, and when the maids came in to help her dress, she had vanished.”

“Does Damien have any idea where she would’ve gone? Family? Friends?” The second man asked, unable to believe that someone had slipped out of the clutches of the Death Eaters without a trace.

“No friends, not that we knew of. Her mother is dead, and her father is an abusive, drunken old fool. She wouldn’t go back to him. She had no where to run to. She’s just gone,” the first man explained, sounding like he couldn’t believe it either.

“Damien says she’s vital and must be found at all costs,” the second man said heavily.

“Why? What’s so imporant about one girl?” the first man wanted to know.

“I don’t know, but he’s going to be very angry if we don’t find her. It’s out place to ask questions, just follow the orders. I suggest you send some men to the girl’s father. She could be there because it would seem like the most unlikely of places. And if she’s not there, a near-fatal accident could draw her there, whether she was abused or not. It’s worth a shot. I expect you out by tomorrow.”

The first man stood and bowed deeply to the second one. “I shall personally see that it’s done, Mr. Malfoy,” he said respectfully, and then swept from the room. Lucius Malfoy nodded and watched his companion leave, then looked to the balcony. Draco’s breath caught in his lungs.

“A sudden presence?” Lucius muttered, getting up and slowly walking over.

‘Run, you fool! Get out of here now!’ Draco shouted silently to himself, but he was afraid that any type of movement, even the invisible kind, would be sensed by his father. He could just kill him right now, but that would put spies on his tail, and he wanted to avoid being followed at all costs.

Lucius stopped about five feet from where Draco stood, peering through his son to the balcony behind him. With a shrug, he stood up straight and turned to go. Draco silently exhaled through his nose. In that exact instant, Lucius whirled around, whipping out his wand as he did and speaking a word Draco hadn’t even heard before. Draco’s arms clamped to his sides, and he saw the Invisibility Cloak ripple. Lucius grinned and held out a hand. He placed the handle of his wand in the middle of his palm and then laid it on it’s side. Instantly, Draco fell over and watched, helpless, as his father walked over to his motionless body and drew back the Invisibility Cloak.

“Well, well, well,” he said with a sick, but surprised, smile when he recognized his son. “Didn’t your mother and I teach you it’s bad to eavesdrop?”

Draco spat in Lucius’s face. “Bastard,” he seethed, “don’t you dare talk about my mother. Murderer. I’ll kill you for it before this war is over, mark my words.”

Lucius laughed. “Ah, Draco, you remind me so much of me. It’s such a pity you’re my enemy; you would’ve made a powerful accomplice. But that’s what war does, does it not? Tears loving families apart.” He wiped the spit from his face and placed his wand on Draco’s temple. “Master Damien will love to meet you, but I can’t have you struggle.” He explained, mock apology twisting his voice before he spoke a word that knocked Draco unconscious.

7. Reinforcements

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.

8. Partners

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: Thanks for clearing that up for me, Eyes91. Um...I guess you could call this slightly A/U. There’s not as much magic in it as of yet, so if by A/U you mean out of context with the original story line...a bit. I guess we will all have to wait with bated breath to find out what exactly is going on, hmm? ;-)

Thanks again to everyone who takes the time to R/R! You guys rock! All of these chapters were prewritten a couple of months ago, and now I’m starting to run out because you guys keep begging me for more! I guess I’ll have to actually work if you want to know how the story ends.

Chapter Seven

Partners

The Hogwarts Express was still a widely used means of transportation, and that’s where Ron and Luna found themselves forty-five minutes later. It would be a two-night trip to the base ARMED had in Bulgaria to meet Viktor Krum, Commander of that branch of the Few, and then a four day trek that would take them from Bulgaria to Alaska. The final two days would be spent crossing the deep Alaskan mountains to their final destination. Ron was not looking forward to the trip.

He and Luna were situated in their own private compartment near the back of the train. Though the scarlet Express was used to transport members of the Few only, Ron hadn’t recognized any of the comers or goers when he and Luna had come aboard. Now they sat in awkward silence, both staring out of their respective windows, waiting for the witch with the trolley to come by and break the silence for a whole two minutes while she sold them pastries.

After ten minutes, Ron thought he was going to explode. He had to say something, but he couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t have to do with their current mission, and he wasn’t sure whether she wanted to discuss such things or not.

“So, Luna,” he started, trying to sound casual and failing brilliantly. She glanced at him. “Er...what’s your favorite color, then?” ‘Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,’ he thought with a mental slap to his head.

Luna smiled. “That’s an odd question, Ronald, because I don’t have a favorite color. I like whatever color the sky is at the moment. Like right now, it’s a velvety sort of blackish blue. Isn’t it beautiful? No matter what mood the sky is in, the color is always breathtaking.”

She glanced back out the window, a smile of contentment on her face, and Ron wasn’t sure what to think of her answer. Slightly intrigued, but mostly confused, he leaned past her and stared at the sky she was so highly complimenting. He saw just black, no other shades.

“Whatever it is, I can’t seem to see it,” he said softly, inwardly wishing he could experience the beauty she was describing. Luna smiled.

“That’s because you’re not looking at it the right way,” she whispered, and with a flick of her wand, all of the lights in the compartment went out. Plunged into darkness as they so suddenly were, it took Ron a moment or so to adjust his eyes, but when he had, the scenery was as breathtaking as she had promised. The entire expanse of the sky was coated in a very intense kind of indigo, and the softly sloping hills they were passing were blacker than black.

“Don’t look at it,” Luna said, and Ron realized for the first time that she had been staring at him. “Don’t look at it with your eyes, because you won’t see anything. Look at it as if you’re actually there, actually in the sky.”

Somewhat confused, Ron did as he was told and looked back to the heavens. He concentrated as hard as he could, but nothing seemed to change. He squinted his eyes at the sky, knowing there was depth to her words and not being able to surface their true meaning. He was about to give up and tell Luna he was hopeless, when suddenly, Luna shifted herself to get a better look at the sky. In her shift, she had moved somewhat closer to him, and her warm presence was very much aware to him. Her arm brushed his, and everything exploded. His mind cleared, the skies took on a more intense hue, every single star was showing off it’s twinkling beauty to him, every cloud was vying for the chance to float lazily by him. He was flying, there was no other explanation for it. He had to be flying. He hadn’t been in the sky since he’d played Quidditch, and that had been a very long time ago. This was his happiness, his peace of mind.

Too absorbed in the transformation of the skies was Ron that he didn’t even notice Luna’s smile. She had seen the change in his eyes. He was seeing it, he was feeling it, and if he could feel it...if he had actually uncovered the secret of the Skies, one way or another, then maybe, just maybe, he could be the one to help her....

Ron couldn’t believe how amazing this was. He never wanted to come down, never wanted to even set foot on Earth again. It was so peaceful up here, as opposed to all the wars going on below him. He could’ve been wrapped in the beauty of that night sky for ages and never would’ve noticed. He did, in fact, feel a warm and gentle breeze play past his body, and it reminded him vaguely of Luna. Lovingly, the breeze wrapped itself around Ron and floated him back to reality. And then, as quickly as it had happened, it was over and Ron was back in the compartment next to Luna, who was staring at him with a mixed facial expression of wonder, pride, and intrigue. Coming to his senses, Ron coughed and looked away from Luna, hoping she didn’t notice the brilliant shade of red his ears were turning.

Luna decided to dismiss what had just happened, knowing a conversation would make him uncomfortable and thus push him away from her. She couldn’t let that happen now, could she? Besides, she knew what he had seen. It was nothing compared to what she could (would, for that matter) show him in the days that were to come, and what she had to show him didn’t even hold a candle to what he would figure out for himself, given time. With a sigh of contentment, she nestled back into her seat and closed her eyes, slowing her breathing and wishing sleep upon her weary self.

Ron watched Luna from the corner of his eye as his heart slowed down beneath his chest. What had just happened a moment ago? What was going to happen next? Randomly, he realized Luna had forgotten to turn the lights back on. He suddenly felt vaguely uncomfortable, there in the darkness with no one but Luna, nothing but the stars to cast light upon them. Eventually, her slow, rythmic breathing as she surrendered to sleep soothed Ron. He cast his gaze over her body and out the window again, both excited and apprehensive about what he would see in the sky this time. The normal view of moon and stars winked down at him, nothing spectacular or breathtaking. With a sigh of relief and disappointment, Ron turned back to the compartment and thought about the mission at hand. How did such a talented spy like Draco get caught almost immediately? And how would Ron and Luna be able to save him, keep their own selves safe, and find information all at once?

There was pressure on Ron’s left shoulder. In an instant, he had whipped his wand out and had a Curse on his lips, looking at whoever was adding to the weight on his arm. Still sleeping, Luna’s head had fallen lightly on Ron’s shoulder. Relaxing, Ron pocketed his wand again and dared to stare at Luna’s soft, peaceful form, propped up against his tense, muscled one. She looked so delicate, sleeping there in the moonlight. Ron could hardly believe that this beautiful creature next to him had had not only the capacity, but the chance, to kill him. Even more difficult to comprehend were those kisses on the Quidditch stands...but wait, those had never happened. Shaking his head and chuckling softly, Ron crossed his arms over his chest, making sure his right hand was wrapped around the handle of his wand. Following Luna’s lead, he closed his eyes and realized just how tired he was. Within moments, he was giving in to fatigue. The last thing he was aware of was his own head falling softly on top of Luna’s....

~*~*~*~*~

Soft moonlight filtered through Ron’s eyelids. He scrunched them closed, then realized he was awake. Groggily, he opened his eyes. Why did it feel as if he had only gotten an hour of sleep? He sat up to clear his head, and then realized he had been leaning against Luna. Confused, he looked down at the blonde. His arm was draped around her shoulders, and she was sleeping contentedly in the crook of his arm.

“When did that happen?” He whispered to himself as his ears turned bright red. He didn’t want Luna to wake up like that and think...well, he didn’t know what he even thought, let alone what she would think, he just didn’t want things to get twisted and confused and awkward, but at the same time...she looked so peaceful sleeping, and it actually felt quite nice having her there...it was almost as if she fit. Ron stole a look out the window. It was still pitch black outside. According to his watch, it was one in the morning...meaning he had only gotten an hour or so of sleep. So why was he awake?

There were little red lights flashing in Ron’s head. He settled his arm around Luna again, taking comfort in her and also as a means of protection. His other hand groped around in the darkness until he found his wand. He then took a mental inventory of their surroundings. They were on the Express. It was one o’clock in the morning. It was dark...wait...it was totally dark. It shouldn’t be, but it was. There weren’t even lights on out in the corridor. Once he realized that, Ron was suddenly aware that the train was not moving. Involuntarily, he yawned. To his horror, he was able to see his breath when he let it go.

“Luna,” he whispered frantically, shaking her with one hand as his other one held his wand with a death grip. “Luna, wake up.”

“What is it?” Was her sleepy reply as she came round, eyes blinking back the sleep.

“I think we have company,” Ron said, glancing at the frosted glass of the compartment door.

The words had hardly fallen from his lips when they heard a scream a few compartments down. Instantly awake, Luna whipped out her wand and they both lurched to their feet. Ron glanced at her. She had noticed the chill in the air. Her eyes darted towards him.

“Dementors?” She whispered.

“Maybe. Maybe dementors and something worse mixed in with the bunch. Whatever it is, we aren’t sticking around for them to pay us a visit,” Ron whispered back, turning to the pack he had been allowed to bring on the train with him. It was his emergency pack, fully equipped with an extra change of clothes, a first aide kit, some important herbs, five days’ rations of food perfectly preserved thanks to some skillful magic, and other necessities he would need. In one fluid movement, Luna had hers strapped to her back and was wrapping a robe around her slender frame, wand clenched in her hand. She moved silently over to the compartment window and peered out. On the other side of the compartment, Ron had enchanted two long cases to silently remove themselves from the luggage overhead and into his hand. Quickly, he undid the cases and took out their sheathed swords. Luna took hers from Ron and strapped it around her waist, making sure the extra-long robe covered it. Ron found his robe, followed suit, and then went to the window.

“Anything out there?” He whispered to her.

“Not that I can see,” Luna replied under her breath.

Ron cast his own gaze over the land. Nothing but hills. With a nod, he uttered a spell and the window slid open without a noise. He climbed out of the window and then turned back for Luna. She placed her hands in his, and with movements as agile as a cat, jumped down from the window and landed gracefully on her feet. Instantly, Ron enveloped them in an Invisibility Cloak. If they were dealing with Dementors, Ron knew the Cloak was just extra bulk, but it gave him a sense of security anyway. Keeping close to Luna’s side, he navigated them away from the train, making sure to stick to the darkest shadows.

Every few steps, Luna would glance back at the Express, then turn her eyes forward and get a better grip on her wand and hilt. Ron knew that looking back would break his concentration, so he didn’t even attempt it. They were forty-seven hours away from their destination. With Hogwarts only an hour behind them, Ron knew they could just turn around and go back to Harry and ask for other means of transportation. He also knew that going back to the castle could lead whatever was on the train back there too. A sudden image of his nieces in the cluctches of Dementors made up his mind. They would go forward and find a town. He was pretty sure there was a magical one close by.

Luna looked back, and Ron heard her breath catch in her throat. “What is it?” He asked, refusing to look back himself.

“You were right. Dementors,” She said in a hushed voice as she came to a standstill.

Ron stopped walking too, knowing that they would be easier to spot if they were moving. Slowly, he turned and look back. The Dementors were peering their faceless hoods out of their window, sniffing the air and inspecting the scene. Suddenly, one of the Dementor’s heads shot up and fixed it’s eyeless stare in their direction. With eerie haste, it floated out of the window and came towards them. It’s Dementor colleagues were following it’s lead. Ron’s brain raced for a way out of this, but more and more of the monstors were pouring out of the window. He felt Luna press herself to him in fear. Instantly, his body was flooded with heat, and he knew what he had to do.

Thinking of kissing Luna, Ron raised his arm and bellowed, “Expecto Patronum!”

A brilliant silver lion erupted from the tip of Ron’s wand and raced towards the five lead Dementors. It shook it’s mane, and opened its mouth to emit a powerful roar as it overwhelmed the Dementors. Within an instant they were gone, and the lion came around for another go at six more Dememntors. It took them out and then slowly evaporated into the air. To Ron’s dismay, though, at least ten more of the hooded monstrosities had come from the window, and there were more still behind those.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered, knowing he wasn’t strong enough to produce the amount of Patronuses needed to relinquish these foes.

“Ron,” Luna breathed next to him, staring at the Dementors with obvious fear. “Ron, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“What is it?” he asked, wrapping his arm around her in an effort to spare her from the Dementors and taking a few steps backward.

“You weren’t supposed to know yet...no one was...but after tonight on the train, with the sky, remember...after that, I think I can break the rules this once and tell you...”

“We don’t have time for riddles, Luna,” Ron said breathlessly as he strained his thoughts to find a way to escape the Dementors. “Unless you can think of a thought happy enough to produce a Patronus strong enough destroy what looks to be over fifty Dementors at once--”

“Just hold on tight,” Luna said, her voice suddenly solid with the decision she had made. Ron glanced down at her, confused, but tightened his hold around her body. He watched, transfixed, as Luna’s eyes got wide. He felt a breeze blow past their bodies. The Dementors felt it too and stopped as one to turn their heads towards it. The next breeze was a bit stronger, and so was the next one...and the next one. Ron felt another breeze answer the first one from the other side of his body. Then he felt one boring down from on top of him. Suddenly, there was a shriek of terror. Ron’s head snapped up and he looked to the Dementors. They were falling to their knees, clutching at their throats. He could hear the gale that was forming a swirling cage around them, suffocating them, weakening them.

“Use your Patronus now,” Luna said in a voice Ron was sure could command a battlefield. Ron took out his wand, and thought about what would happen if these creatures weren’t defeated. Then, thinking of the view Luna had showed him earlier, Ron put his heart and soul into the spell.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

The silver lion exploded from the wand, now bigger than the Express, and in one swift pounce, it engulfed the train. Ron and Luna shielded their eyes from the blinding light that ensued from the destruction of all the Dementors at once.

The light slowly began to fade away, as did the winds. He stared at the train for a moment, amazed at what had just happened.

He was roused to his senses when he felt Luna’s body go slack under his hold. He instantly turned to find her unconscious in his arms. He knew those winds had come from her. How, he wasn’t sure, but it had been some demonstration of power. Grimly, Ron pulled out a cellular phone and sent a message back to Hogwarts telling Harry what had happened and that they would need an alternate means of transportation as soon as possible. Five minutes later, Harry messaged back saying that a crew would be there to inspect and clean up the Express, and Ron and Luna would proceed to Bulgaria by the less-conspicuous Muggle way of jet.

9. Winds of Destiny

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: I see a couple of you have picked up on the Muggle devices in Hogwarts discrepancy. Just for kicks, I threw in some Muggle devices to the whole magic world. As I mentioned in some of my earlier chapters, ARMED protects Muggles as well as witches and wizards, so I just blended our electronics with their magic. I know I didn’t write anything about that...I didn’t feel I had to elaborate it.

Warning: This chapter contains graphic scenes that some readers may find vulgar or offensive. Please skip to the next chapter if you do not wish to subject yourself to what may be written.

Chapter Eight

Winds of Destiny

“This is your destiny, Luna,” the Sages whispered in her ear, their three combined voices echoing softly in her mind. “This is what you were born to do. This is your fate. Will you accept it?”

“Do I have a choice?” She could feel her voice begin to waver, and she bit the inside of her cheek to make the fear subside . “Would you let me forge my own destiny if that was what I wished?”

“This is your--” Whispered the first Sage.

“This is your des--” Echoed the second Sage.

“This is your destiny,” Finished the third Sage. “Do you accept it?”

“What is it you ask of me?” she wanted to know. When they told her, her eyes filled. “How can that possibly be my destiny?” She demanded as her tears ran warm rivulets down her cheeks. “Why has this burden been placed on my shoulders?”

“Why is it the sun’s burden to rise and set every day?”

“Why is it the fire’s burden to be both beautiful and fatal?”

“Why is it man’s burden to have shoulders on which to rest burdens?”

Luna hung her head and, no longer in control of her quivering voice, gave in to the Will of the Sages. She had known for a while the choice she would have to make, and knew the words by heart. “I...accept the gift you bestow upon me. I will use it to...to...” Her words caught in her throat, but with a swallow, she was able to speak again. “I will use it to fulfill the destiny laid out at my feet. I will walk the path straight and true until death relieves it of me. This I swear.”

Silence. Luna was left in the dark and the silence. And then, all at once, she was hit headlong by a blast of wind. Her feet were swept out from under her and she fell hard on her back. As the wind relentlessly pounded her, stripping her of the right to breathe, Luna felt consciousness slipping slowly from her grasp.

“Fear not, child,” She heard the Sages whispering, their voices once again merged to make a single one. “Fear not, for you will be protected by the Strong One, the Stealthy One, the Magical One, and the Loyal One. There is much of your story that you must weave with your own hands. Do not lose faith. Do not lose hope.”

“We are always with you,” the first Sage assured her.

“We are always wit--” the second Sage repeated.

“We are alw--” the third Sage trailed off, and Luna slipped into unconsciousness.

~*~*~*~*~

Ron awoke several hours later. Something in his arms was moving. He looked down at Luna as she stirred in her sleep. When the jet had touched down, Ron had had no choice but to carry her slender frame aboard the aircraft. Exhausted, he had passed out as soon as he had sat down, Luna still cradled in his arms.

Gently, he shifted her to her own side of the plush built-in-couch they were sitting on. Then, he turned to look out the window. The sun was beginning to crest the clouds their plane was riding, and everything had a warm, golden glow. It comforted Ron, but also scared him. The silence that had befallen the battlefield was making him uncomfortable. In all the years of the war, he had never known things to be this silent, this peaceful. Something was wrong, and it was more than a missing spy.

“Why do you think they attacked us?”

Ron turned to find Luna gazing at him, fully alert and awake. He silently admitted it was nice to have her as company on this mission.

“Any number of reasons. We are still at war with the Death Eaters. Maybe it was an attack. Maybe they were after us individually. That’s the worst case scenario, anyway,” he said wearily.

“Why would that be the worst case?”

“Because they know we’re coming for Draco, and they’ll stop at nothing to intercept us before we succeed. It’s only a matter of time before whoever sent them realizes the plan was failed. And since we defeated them, their efforts to find us this time will be greater.”

Luna nodded and turned to look out of her own window. “I just hope they don’t discover the castle.” Ron heard her whisper.

“They won’t,” He assured her. “The security spells are the best in the world, designed by the Spell Caster, meaning the Spell Caster is the only one who knows how to counter them. And the Spell Caster is working for us, not the Death Eaters. No one outside of the Few knows the exact location of their castle. Everyone under the protection of ARMED knows they live in the castles, but they wouldn’t know how to find the castles if they left the area. And civilians aren’t allowed to leave their bases anyway.”

“How are we sure the Spell Caster is working for us?” Luna asked him.

“How are we sure we can trust that you aren’t leading me into a trap?” Ron countered.

Luna shrugged. “I never asked for trust. I gave information, and I offered to help you on a search and rescue mission. Trust doesn’t have to be involved.”

Ron laughed. “In war, Luna, trust is everything.”

“In war, you can’t trust anyone,” she said smoothly.

“Exactly. All the more reason for you to value it when it’s offered to you. The enemy has none of our weapons, and they aren’t giving reason for us to think they’ll be getting them. They don’t have different models, and they don’t know how to counter ours. The Spell Caster is for us. We trust him...or her. No one knows.”

“Do you trust me?”

Ron shrugged. “You’ve given me plenty of reasons not to, and yet here I am on a secret mission with you, and the chances of you getting to see every trick in our book are pretty high. Have you given me any reason to trust you? No, not really. But I do anyway.”

Luna sighed and hung her head, knowing full well that he wanted to know what had happened back at the train. There was so much to tell him, and how much time did they have? There was everything in the past, the Sages, the Gift...for all of it to make sense, she would have to take him back to the beginning, back to the shadows of her life that she had long sice buried...

Ron saw the tortured look on Luna’s face even though she had tried to turn from him. He knew she’d tell him. Their mission was over at that moment if she decided to keep this secret from him, they both knew that. But at the same time, he could see it was paining her to admit this to him, and he didn’t want to push her any more than he had to. Hesitantly, he reached across the seat and touched Luna’s hand. She turned her face back to his, looked at his hand covering hers, and smiled. Slowly, with her other hand, she extended her fingers toward Ron’s face. Confused, he watched as her hand came nearer, as if to carress his cheek.

Instead, she touched her fingertips to his temple and closed her eyes. Suddenly, Ron’s world went black.

~*~*~*~*~

Luna dropped her trunk heavily next to her when she stopped in front of the door. Every summer she came back to this place, and never knew why. Every year, she went to school and bit her tongue when Dumbledore questioned her, told him everything was fine. She would rather be back at Hogwarts, where her peers called her Loony Lovegood and at least acknowledged her awkward presence without punishing her for still being alive. And with each passing year, she grew more and more into a beautiful personification of her mother, a walking reminder of her death, and for that, she was punished even worse. Punished, punished, punished, no matter what, she suffered the consequences of actions she couldn’t even control.

If only she would tell someone. Ginny was her friend, she could tell Ginny everything and ask Ginny if she could stay with her while things were worked out. Ginny would be more than happy to oblige. Luna knew that, thanks to Ginny’s countless invitations to sleep over. But Ginny’s brothers, the ones Luna knew from school, Fred and George and Ron, would stay away from her because they thought she was insane. The teachers...in the end, what authority did they have? What proof did she have to show them? She had none. So every year, she came back.

With a ragged breath, Luna blinked back her tears, lifted her trunk, and walked through her front door. The lighting was dim. It always was. Her father never bothered to change the dead lightbulbs, so Luna did when she came home for the summer, but most of them were out by June.

She saw her father passed out in his recliner. Clothes, papers, plates, food wrappers, and beer cans littered the living room floor. For a moment, she was hopeful. Maybe he had drank himself to death. But no, his chest was rising and falling in the slow rhythm of sleep. Quietly, so as to leave the monster asleep as long as she could, Luna walked up the stairs to her room. She set the trunk down on the floor. When she straightened, her eyes instantly landed on her picture on her desk. Her eyes began to fill again as she picked it up and sat down on her bed. Her father had broken the glass that covered it, so she undid the frame and pulled the picture out.

Every year, the three people in the picture became more unrecognizable to her. The tall, clean shaven, handsome man was Eric Lovegood, her father. The beautiful woman next to him was her late mother, Celeste. And between them was Luna herself, a happy little baby cradled in Celeste’s arms, Eric’s own arm protectively around his wife and daughter. Luna felt a tear slide down her cheek. What she would give to have that family again, again and forever.

There was a noise in her doorway. Luna’s head snapped up, and her eyes landed on her father. Eric was leaning drunkenly against the door frame, staring at her in wonder. He was anything but the man in the picture. The thick black hair on his head was thinning and falling out, his eyes were saggy, lonely and tortured by his insane mental conditions. Rough black stubble covered his chin and cheeks, and his beer belly hung over the waistband of his jeans. Luna’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him awake.

“Celeste,” he said quietly, taking a step inside the room. “Celeste...you’ve come back...I’ve missed you. Where did you go?” He stumbled his way towards her, and Luna began to shake, the tears rolling freely down her cheeks now.

“Daddy, no,” she whispered in vain, knowing he wouldn’t hear or understand her. “Daddy, it’s me, it’s Luna.”

Suddenly, Eric stopped and took a good long look at his daughter. ‘Maybe he does recognize me?’ Luna dared to hope. But the empty look in her father’s eyes suddenly filled with a rage she knew all too well. She let out a sob when he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and lifted her bodily off the bed. The picture in her hands floated to the floor.

“You left me!” He screamed at, shaking her. “You left me, just like your mother did!” Luna flinched as he screamed, and he backhanded her across her face, hard. “You’re weak,” he spat. “Weak just like she was.”

Roughly, he let Luna go. She scrambled away from him, running towards the door.

“Oh no...you’re not getting away that easily,” Eric said softly, coming after her again. He lunged and landed on her, hard, raising his hand above her head.

“Daddy, no!!!” She cried, and then everything went black.

~*~*~*~*~

After that, the Sages visited her in her dreams every night. They told her old and ancient tales of magical heroes, and also told her of the war that would begin back at Hogwarts. They told her of the part she was to play, and bestowed upon her the elemental power that was hers by birthright. She would be able to literally shift the winds in the war, and they would serve her and tell her of information only they knew. But first, she had to prove herself...

One hot August night, only a few weeks before school, Luna’s father came to her again in a drunken rage. She was fast asleep when he tore her body from the bed. He hit her with all of his strength, sending her sprawling across the floor. Luna’s hand faltered to her face, her fingers coming in contact with the warm blood he had shed. Eric swooped down on her for more.

‘No...no more of this,’ she thought as she looked up at him. Her eyebrows came together in a glare. Eric saw it and stopped, wondering what she would do. Luna had never before fought back.

“NO MORE!” She screamed at him, flinging her arms towards him, palms outstretched. The air began to howl, and the windows in the room shattered into pieces, unable to keep out the wind that was begging to obey Luna’s every command. Eric backed up and stared at the windows in shock and fear, but Luna wanted more than to scare this man who used to be her father. She beckoned the wind, and it came to her readily, swirling around and through her fingers. With a scream of rage, she hurled it all at Eric.

Eric’s body was flung against the nearest wall. Slowly, Luna got to her feet and stepped closer and closer to him. She could feel the weight of the wind as it pummeled the man before her, and she summoned more and more, increasing her power until she wasn’t sure what would happen if she tried to control any more. She pressed it all at Eric. His body, unable to withstand the pressure, crumpled to the floor, and Luna towered over him, pouring all of her power and anger into the torrent she was controlling. The swirling, howling wind pounded him, and he began to gasp when he realized it was coming in quantities too fast and too large for him to take in. Luna was suffocating him.

She watched as his body squirmed and, out of instinct, he tried to clutch at his throat. It was over before he could. His face was begninning to turn blue when his body finally went limp and his eyes rolled up into his head. Instantly, Luna realized what she had done.

The wind stopped abrubtly as soon as Luna put her hands down. Shaking, she fell to her knees, unable to peel her eyes from her father’s dead body. She had killed the man who had tried to kill her. Why hadn’t she realized what she was doing? Why had she allowed herself to go so far? Did this suddenly make her a killer? And why, oh why, did she feel no remorse or guilt?

She would’ve knelt there forever if the world suddenly hadn’t gone black. She looked around, saw nothing. A gentle wisp of wind blew past her ears.

“This is your destiny, Luna,” the Sages whispered in her ear, their three combined voices echoing softly in her mind. “This is what you were born to do. This is your fate. Will you accept it?”

“Do I have a choice?” She could feel her voice begin to waver, and she bit the inside of her cheek to make the fear subside . “Would you let me forge my own destiny if that was what I wished?”

“This is your--” Whispered the first Sage.

“This is your des--” Echoed the second Sage.

“This is your destiny,” Finished the third Sage. “Do you accept it?”

“What is it you ask of me?” She wanted to know.

“You will aide the cause,” They told her in unison. “It is your destiny to awaken the warrior Sun from his slumber. Together, you will fight. Luna, daughter of the Moon, yours is an ancient story of passion and power. For centuries, the Sun and the Moon have formed the mightiest of alliances. Continue the story, Luna, and by doing so, you will fulfill your destiny, and you will save the lives of millions of others.

“Are you willing to do anything for your people?” They asked her, their voices suddenly hushed. “Are you willing to give your life and the lives of others to make sure you succeed?”

“It is your destiny to die for the cause,” One of the Sages whispered to her, and Luna felt her eyes water.

“Why has this burden been placed on my shoulders?” She demanded.

“Why is it the sun’s burden to rise and set every day?”

“Why is it the fire’s burden to be both beautiful and fatal?”

“Why is it man’s burden to have shoulders on which to rest burdens?”

Luna hung her head and, no longer in control of her quivering voice, gave in to the Will of the Sages. She had known for a while the choice she would have to make, and knew the words by heart. “I...accept the gift you bless unto me. I will use it to...to...” Her words caught in her throat, but with a swallow, she was able to speak again. “I will use it to fulfill the destiny laid out at my feet. I will walk the path straight and true until death relieves it of me. This I swear.”

Silence. Luna was left in the dark and the silence. And then, all at once, she was hit headlong by a blast of wind. Her feet were swept out from under her and she fell hard on her back. As the wind relentlessly pounded her, stripping her of the right to breathe, Luna felt consciousness slipping slowly from her grasp.

“Fear not, child,” She heard the Sages whispering, their voices once again merged to make a single, echoing voice. “Fear not, for you will be protected by the Strong One, the Stealthy One, the Magical One, and the Loyal One. There is much of your story that you must weave with your own hands. Do not lose faith. Do not lose hope.”

“We are always with you,” the first Sage assured her.

“We are always wit--” the second Sage repeated.

“We are alw--” the third Sage trailed off, and Luna slipped into unconsciousness.

~*~*~*~*~

Color slowly bled back into Ron’s vision. He saw Luna taking her hand away from his temple, a look of misery on her beautiful face. There was more she had to tell him, but hers was a story that needed to be digested in portions, and she felt she had already given Ron a bit too much to swallow.

He stared at her in shocked silence. What was there for him to say? He wanted to know why she had told no one her father had been abusive, wondered if her first kill ever stole sleep from her on some nights, the way it did for him, wanted to ask her so much, and yet had no way to speak. Luna broke the silence, speaking to him, but staring out of her window.

“They keep the knowledge of what I’ve done and what I have yet to do from me,” she whispered slowly. “I am constantly aware that it happened, and that it will happen again, and that very soon, it will all end for me. But they keep my mind at peace, especially during the night, when I am vulnerable through my dreams.” She turned her face back to Ron, and he finally saw the heaviness in her eyes, and his heart went out for her. He knew his own eyes looked similar to hers. “I know you have questions, Ron. All I ask is for you to not bring them up right now. Believe me when I say they will be answered before all of this is over.”

Ron nodded, but didn’t look away from her. Their eyes locked just as they had that morning on the Quidditch stands and when they had been dueling. Ron hoped that she was able to see the understanding and empathy for her in his eyes. He wanted her to know he’d be there for her, no matter what. For a fleeting moment, he was breaking his rule about emotions, but as Luna’s eyes filled with tears, he forgot all about it.

“Oh, Ron,” she gasped, and flung herself at him. Ron was there in an instant, taking her in his arms as she buried her face in his neck and wept uncontrollably. He smoothed her hair and leaned his cheek against her head, whispering small words of comfort to her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clung to him desperately.

“What am I?” He heard her whisper into his shirt. “What kind of monster am I, to kill my own father? Who else will fall victim to my anger and this...this...power?” She shuddered against him, and Ron held her a bit tighter. Without really knowing why, he pressed his lips against her head, closing his eyes and allowing himself to be enveloped in the smell of her hair. Eventually, Luna’s sobs slowed to soft hiccups. Ron shifted so he could look at her. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face streaky from tears, but she had fallen into a ragged sleep against him.

Ron made himself comfortable in the corner that was formed between the wall and the couch, and closed his own eyes. He still cradled Luna in his arms, wanting her to stay there as long as it took for her to recover from the torment of her past. His closed his eyes, and willing himself to go to sleep, tried to match his breathing to hers. But that just made him think about all the places their bodies were connecting, and that made him both excited and uncomfortable at the same time. Sleeping, he knew, would be impossible.

10. Behind Enemy Lines

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: Oh no! It’s been a whole week since I’ve updated! Whatever did you wonderful readers of mine do? I know that last chapter wasn’t graphic, but I felt the warning was necessary anyway. The first time I wrote it, it was really violent, but then I toned it down so I wouldn’t cross any lines about rules. Either way, I hope you like this next very short chapter! Read slow, because I won’t be updating for a while. Chapter Ten is the last chapter I have prewritten. After that, I have to actually work!

Chapter Nine

Behind Enemy Lines

When Draco came to, he felt like he had risen from the dead. With heavy eyes, he assessed his situation. He soon discovered that the aching in his arms was the result of hanging by his wrists that were shackled to the wall. When he licked his chapped lips to moisten them, he found the coppery taste of blood on them. Fully awake now, he glanced around the little room, and slowly, everything came back to him.

His father had turned him into a man whose face Draco had not been allowed to see. Lucius had referred to him as Damien, and Damien had taken great interest in Draco’s story.

“A spy of the Few?” The man had asked. His voice was smooth and dangerously soft. “Take him away to the dungeon. Get out of him what you can.”

“Of course, my lord,” Lucius had replied with a bow, and had led Draco away to this room, where he had ordered hours upon hours of torture to be inflicted upon his son. But Draco had said nothing. He hadn’t even uttered a cry of pain. He would take anything they could throw at him, and he would take it in silence until they sent him crawling back to Hogwarts or killed him. He would rather die than betray the secrets of the Few, would rather give his life than spare himself just for his wife and daughters to end up dead. There would be no information given to the enemy if Draco could help it.

Draco heard movement outside of his dungeon door. He kept his head down as the thick iron swung open, emitting two sets of steel-toed boots.

“So he refuses to speak?” Damien’s words slid from his mouth like silk. Draco never knew silk to be so deadly.

“Not a word, my Lord,” Lucius replied.

“Is that so?” Draco saw Damien’s feet come closer, and felt a smooth, soft hand roughly force his chin up. In an instant, Draco found himself staring into a revolting pair of yellow eyes. They commanded his entire mind so that he could look no where else. His body was going numb, but he couldn’t do anything but stare into Damien’s horrible yellow eyes.

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his head, and Draco realized Damien was an Occlumens. In his condition, he knew he couldn’t put up a valid fight against this obvious master, so he built a wall around his memories of Ginny, Ari, Ella, Harry, Luna, Ron, the locations of the Few. His blockade was hasty, but by the way Damien was probing, Draco knew it was decent. He writhed in pain and let out a shriek of agony. It felt like Damien was twisting his entire brain, desperately trying to find something to use against the Few.

The corners of the yellow eyes lifted in happiness, and Damien released Draco from his mental grasp. Draco felt his body go limp against the chains, and his head dropped. His chest heaved from the effort of keeping his memories from Damien. He felt his heart stop when he Damien announced the information he had found.

“It seems, Lucius, that Harry Potter has a wife. Find a way to bring us the lucky lady, would you?” He said in his dangerously soft way as he left.

“I’ll get right to it, my Lord,” Lucius answered, and swept from the room, leaving Draco alone in his grief.

He had saved his own family, but how could have forgotten Hermione? He flung his head back against the unforgiving wall and screamed in agony, anger, and guilt. He screamed until he could no longer breathe, then passed out in his chamber.

~*~*~*~*~

Safe inside the walls of Hogwarts castle, Hermione Potter lay next to her sleeping husband. It took her hours to fall alseep when she had something on her mind, and tonight, something was definitely on her mind.

How had Draco, their best spy, one of the most cunning people in all of the Few, been captured by the enemy? Hermione’s heart went out to Ginny, who had collapsed in a chair in shock when she had heard. Now she was debating whether or not to tell her two young daughters, her flesh and blood, her children that were hardly out of babyhood, that their father was in peril. Hermione wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to do that.

She smiled as she felt Harry’s arm tighten around her waist. His bare chest pressed closer to her naked back, and the familiar tingle coursed through her veins. What would she do if one day, Harry were to be captured or die in battle? She couldn’t bare to face the truth: that the Ultimate Battle was inevitable, and one day, she would have to stand aside and watch him fight for his life and maybe even lose.

Shuddering at the thought, she swung her feet onto the hardwood floor. Standing, she settled her robe around her shoulders and padded silently over to their bay window. It was a clear, beautiful night. The moon was sparkling white, the diamond stars glittered in euphoria. She admired the breathtaking sky for a moment, but something caught her eye. Squinting in confusion, she walked closer to the window, inching her face closer to see it better. It looked like a flashing red light, a ruby star hung amdist it’s white comrades. She had never seen it before.

She stared at it in confused silence before she realized it was getting larger, almost as if it was coming closer, closer... Hermione’s eyes widened in horror. She opened her mouth to scream as the ball of light threatened to engulf her window, but she never had time to emit a sound before she was gone.

~*~*~*~*~

A fuzzy warmth clouded Harry’s mind as it slowly woke itself up. He felt a soft form held tight against his side. Piece by piece, his mind put it all together: Person...woman...wife... Hermione. He smiled sleepily and gave Hermione a gentle squeeze. She seemed very squishy this morning.

Harry opened his eyes, sensing that something wasn’t right. Under his arm was a pillow, not a woman. He smiled; Hermione’s robe was gone, meaning she must’ve left him for an early breakfast. He was famished after last night, too. With a yawn, he placed his feet on the floor, tugged his glasses on his nose, a pair of pants on his legs, and a loose shirt over his muscled torso. He pocketed his wand, slid his feet into a pair of slippers, and made his way to the Great Hall, straightening his hair as he went.

When he walked into the Great Hall, the only one there to greet him at that early hour was Ginny. She was poking at her plate of pancakes, looking very tired and worried. She glanced up when Harry entered and smiled at him, trying to hide her emotions. Harry walked over to her table. A steaming cup of coffee appeared at the spot he chose as soon as he sat down. He blew on it, took a sip, and then looked up at his companion.

“How’re you holding up?” He asked softly.

Ginny shrugged, staring into her own mug of hot chocolate. Harry took a moment to look the youngest Weasley over.

Ginny was a vivacious, feisty twenty year old woman who was quick to smile. Most people found it very easy to see Ginny as the personification of fire. She had an entrancing, dangerous beauty about her, but she mostly burned people with her temper. Fiercly loyal to her loved ones, Harry knew Ginny would give anything to trade places with her captured husband at the moment.

She was one of Harry’s best fighters. Her toned arms could weild a sword just as fatally as Ron’s could. She was flexible and fast and had the amazing ability to evaluate a situation and formulate a flawless plan in a matter of seconds. But Harry knew first-hand that Ginny’s favorite weapon was her charm, not her blade. She had saved his life once with a wink of her brilliant blue eyes and a flick of her feiry hair. Now, as Harry sat across from her at 4:21 in the morning, all the color in her seemed to have dulled. He wished there was something he could do.

“He’ll be back soon, I promise. Next to Draco, Ron is the best we’ve got, and Luna has information that will get them in and out without anyone knowing. We couldn’t have found two more perfect people for this job, Ginny. I promise, it’ll be over soon,” He said softly, reaching across the table to place his hand over hers.

Ginny smiled into her mug. “Thanks, Harry,” she whispered.

Harry smiled back, patted her hand, and then stood. Picking up his coffee cup, he said, “By the way, have you seen Hermione this morning?”

Ginny looked up at him and shook her head. “She hasn’t been in here as far as I know.”

“Hmm,” said Harry as he stared at his reflection in the coffee. Where could she be?

At that moment, the doors of the Great Hall burst open. Ginny and Harry spun to see who it was. Neville Longbottom stood in the doorway, doubled over as he tried to catch his breath, sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Neville?” Harry asked, his voice laced with concern. Neville was in charge of their radio and communications system. Was there word from Ron and Luna again?

Neville raised his head and held up a piece of paper, his breath still coming in short gasps.

“Neville, what’s wrong?” Ginny sounded scared as she stood next to Harry.

“I just got...word...” Neville breathed, trying to find the strength to stand and failing. “From... the enemy. Don’t know...how...but...they have...Hermione, too,” he managed to gasp before he collapsed against the frame.

Harry didn’t know how he got there, but he found himself next to Neville, snatching the paper out of his hand. His eyes grew wide as he read the transmission, his heart skipped a couple of beats, and his mind went numb. He felt Ginny place a hand on his shoulder, felt her eyes on the message, and heard her gasp.

They had Hermione.

11. Forgotten Valley

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: This is it, guys. I’m half way through chapter eleven right now, but this is the last ready-to-order chapter I have. No we’re all going to have to wait to find out what happens, because your guess is as good as mine after this. I’m so glad I’ve been able to get to here so quickly, though. I’ve been writing this story since last year because it took me forever to get accepted to the site, and now that it’s posted, you guys are eating it up faster than I can write it. Thanks for your wonderful reviews!! After this, I’d appreciate some more of them, though, because I’m going to need your input as to where I should take this.

I’m very proud of this chapter, so please enjoy it!

Chapter Ten

Forgotten Valley

The ringing in Ron’s ears told him their jet was attempting to pass through a magical barrier. Gently, he shook Luna awake. With a groan, she sat up and stretched her arms and legs.

“Are we there yet?” She asked sleepily. Ron nodded, then turned to stare out of his window. The high pitch of the barrier was starting to give him a headache. Magic barriers were tricky things. They were used to hide a town or a base, and the ringing could only be heard by magical folk. The only drawback was the enemy would be able to identify the noise and know he was near a settlement protected by ARMED.

The Spell Caster had fixed that problem by inventing chips to place in planes, trains, and automobiles that would identify the vehicle as a friendly one and let it pass through the barrier and into the town. Ron saw flaws in this invention, but had yet to see one of the Spell Caster’s contraptions fail, so he forgot about his doubts.

In a matter of seconds, they were through the barrier that cloaked their destination and found themselves staring down at the rolling hills of Forgotten Valley. The sprawling town took Ron’s mind back to his school days, when he had spent afternoons with Harry and Hermione in Hogsmede village. At it’s entrance was the train station that he and Luna would board in the morning. Past that lay the shops and boarding rooms, the small buisnesses that kept forces like ARMED well stocked, since it had been at least three years since Diagon Alley had been shut down and raided. And then, at the outskirts of the propety, sat the farmlands and the houses of the farmers that tended the fields. They, too, were under the protection of ARMED, but had to have a special license to be allowed their own land and housing and not live in a base like everyone else.

Ron and Luna thanked their pilot for flying them to the Valley, then proceeded to Apparate themselves down to the train station. The witch at the door asked to see their passes. Ron handed her his badge that claimed him as a member of the Few. Her face scrunched up, and as she gave Ron his badge back, her eyes landed on Luna’s cloak. Both Luna and Ron looked the see what had caught the attention of the witch: The hilt of Luna’s sword was peeking out from it’s hiding place beneath the folds of her cloak. Luna placed a protective hand over the hilt and gently readjusted it until it was out of sight. Ron glanced back to the witch. She wore look of combined worry and suspicion on her face. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a Galleon, and said, “Just business, ma’am, but we’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention to anyone that we’re here.”

The witch nodded, scooped up the Galleon, and let the couple pass into the cobblestone streets of Forgotten Valley.

~*~*~*~*~

Luna gasped when she passed through the gates and into the business part of Forgotten Valley. The streets were paved in light brown cobblestone and lined with shops. The buildings were tall and elegant, the architecture a replicated swirl of old world masters. Vibrant flowers flourished from ceramic window boxes, light emanated from intricate cast iron street lamps. People bustled through the narrow streets, happily chatting to each other. Their conversations and the golden lighting from the shops and the lamps combined gave the entire place a warm, friendly feel. It looked like a vintage, London shopping center, not like the biggest magical trading center left in Europe.

So enveloped in the town was Luna that she missed the amused glance Ron shot her way. He reached over and took her hand in his own. Jolted out of her amazement, Luna jumped. She looked down at their intertwined hands, blushed, then looked back up at Ron, willing her eyes to not betray her emotions to him. Ron smiled.

“We’ll look less suspicious if we pretend we’re a couple,” he whispered to her, then began to walk toward a building with a sign that claimed it as a hotel. Luna recovered from her momentary lapse of mindlessness and fell into step next to him, trying not to look flustered. She and Ron were partners. There was no way he would even consider looking at her as something more than that, especially after how their last intimate experience had ended.

Luna rolled her eyes at herself. She had more to worry about that what Ronald thought of her. She wasn’t what you’d call pretty, anyway, and definitely not unique. How many women in the world had blonde hair and blue eyes, anyway? She was plain, plain and boring and slightly insane, and she knew it.

She bit her bottom lip, chasing those thoughts from her head. Ron’s opinion didn’t matter, what she looked like didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting Ron and Draco safely out of the clutches of the enemy. There was nothing to do after that. She already knew she wouldn’t be making the trip back with them. It was...it was the destiny she had succumbed to. The wheels were set. She had to see the plan through.

Luna gasped when she and Ron set foot in the hotel lobby room. There was no doubt in her mind that Forgotten Valley truly was a magical oasis as soon as she saw that lobby. The room was huge, much bigger than the facade of the building had suggested. The floor was a glistening mahogany ocean for her feet; the walls were painted a deep, crimson red, accentuated with gold trimmings. Silken and velvet divans were strategically placed throughout the room, and people who weren’t reclining on them were having lively conversations with the marble busts of wizards and witches who had held a high spot of influence on the magical world during their day.

Probably the most breathtaking piece in the entire lobby was the staircase. Luna was sure that one step alone could’ve cost enough to feed an entire country for many months. The ivory and gold structure covered nearly the whole floor, rose about one-hundred feet off of the ground, and then swept two ways, each side leading to the second floor. It’s balustrade was fashioned from the same chestnut wood that coated the floor, and it was constantly twisting, forming a wooden rose here, or a petrified cherubim there. On either side of the staircase sprung a fountain that emanated beautiful scents and music as well as crystalline water. Situated in front of the whole piece was an immense reception desk as wide as the foot of the staircase itself. Luna counted fifteen witches and wizards working behind it, handing keys and pieces of paper to the lodgers.

Ron chuckled at her captivated face and gently pulled her forward. Five Galleons later, they were ascending the stairs to the suite Ron had checked out for them. It was all Luna could do to not stop and stare as the railing enticed her with visions of flowers and landscapes more beautiful than she had ever witnessed before. Suddenly, the wood changed. Luna found her eyes glued to a scene she knew all too well: A view of snow capped mountains as seen from the most secluded balcony of the tallest tower of an impenetrable fortress. Luna gasped and faltered as she tried to ascend the next stair. She lost her balance as her foot came down on nothing, and she crumpled to the ground. Ron caught her before she hit the step hard and went careening down the flight. Her ankle was twisted under her, but Luna didn’t feel a thing. The rail was changing again.

She was vaguely aware of people everywhere stopping to see if she was okay. Ron’s voice sounded very far away to her, but she knew he was asking if she was okay, was trying to lift her back to her feet, but they wouldn’t support her, her mouth wouldn’t form the answers to his questions. Ron gave up and let her collapse on the step, where she sat transfixed as the banister told her the story.

She saw herself rushing into a bloody battle between many people. She recognized both good and bad faces. She watched as her deadly sword cut down enemy after enemy. She was frantically trying to get through, but to where, she wasn’t sure.

Suddenly, she was on that horrible balcony again. She looked left, right, and then felt the presence behind her. She spun around, sword at the ready, but she was too late; her opponent’s blade was sweeping toward her neck. Luna saw herself open her mouth to scream, but was cut short when a figure came crashing into her assassin. She watched, helpless, as the two locked together at the hilt, broke apart, and came together in a flurry of iron. In the blink of an eye, her enemy slashed with their weapon and sent her savior’s blade through one of the slots between the pillars of the balcony. Luna’s rescuer didn’t miss a beat. Clasped in the hand of her liberator was a wand.

Before an incantation could be uttered, though, the sword of Luna’s enemy sank into the soft flesh of her savior. She screamed as her friend’s eyes grew wide and they sank to the ground, clutching their stomach. In a flurry of rage, Luna leaped at her adversary, plunging her own blade deep into the arm. She pushed so hard, she felt the assassin’s skin surrender and her sword tip protruded out the other side. Her enemy howled in pain and stuck their own blade through Luna’s shoulder. They didn’t get far. Luna watched as her attacker was engulfed in a green light, and the body slumped to the floor. She wrenched her bleeding shoulder free from the tip of the blade before her foe’s lifeless form dragged her down with. Confused, she turned, and her eyes fell upon her wounded rescuer. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart skipped a beat, and her hand faltered to her stomach before she ran to the side of the person who had just saved her life.

In a rush of thought, Luna absorbed what the balustrade was showing her. “No,” she whispered as her senses slowly readjusted themselves to the world around her. Ron had returned to her side and was shaking her, asking her if she was okay.

“No,” she breathed again. A single tear slid down her cheek as she understood. A light breeze, unnoticed by everyone else in the lobby, caressed her face, confirming the ugly truth. Death was closer than she had thought.

~*~*~*~*~

Ron was worried about Luna. She had refused to tell him what had happened on the staircase half an hour ago. He had held her arm and walked her to their room, and he had been able to sense that she wasn’t entirely with him. She sat on the plush bed for about ten minutes before she came to find him in their sitting room. She had smiled and thanked him for helping her, telling him that she must’ve gone a bit lightheaded when she slipped on the step, but Ron wasn’t buying it. After what she had shown him just the other night, though, he wasn’t about to push her for answers just yet. But he would certainly keep an eye on her.

Restless, he went to find her. She was unpacking her bag in the bedroom. Ron crossed his arms and stood in the doorway, watching her as she moved about, waiting for her to notice his presense. Lord, she was beautiful...

Luna unbuckled her sword from her waistband and turned to set in on an armchair when she finally noticed Ron. She smiled and gestured to the bed.

“Tell me, Ronald, what are we to do about this predicament?” She asked him in that airy voice of hers that he had become accustomed to.

Ron glanced at the king sized bed. He knew the royal blue sheets were spun from Egyptian cotton, and the cream colored pillows were stuffed with the finest goose down around. After sleeping in a train and a jet for the past two days, that bed called to him, and his muscles begged him to give in.

“What predicament?” He asked Luna in a voice that said he clearly didn’t understand.

Luna raised an eyebrow. “The fact that there is only one bed and two of us.”

Ron laughed. “Luna, you insult my honor. I may be a fighter, but I’m still a gentleman. You can have the bed. The couch looks just as comfortable.”

Luna bit her lip. “As valiant as that sounds, Ronald, I feel as if I should sleep on the couch. This is your mission, and you must be at your breaking point from that Patronus you conjured last night to get rid of those Dem-”

Ron held up a hand as his cell phone began to ring. The Muggle device was quite a handy tool to have around, he had to admit. He detatched it from it’s case on his belt loop, then looked back up at Luna.

“Don’t try to fight with me. You won’t win. Besides, I’m the hero on this mission, not you.”

Luna grinned at that and held up her hands in surrender. Ron smiled, than answered his phone.

“Hello?”

“Ron, it’s Harry,” said the voice on the other line, and the voice on the other line didn’t sound well.

“What’s wrong?” Ron asked, getting straight to the point.

“They’ve taken Hermione, Ron. They have Draco and Hermione.” Harry confessed, and Ron could hear his friend trying to keep his voice from cracking.

“What? How?!” Ron blurted, his mind racing. How did they get Hermione when Hermione was in the safety of the castle, and the location of the castle was unknown? Did Draco crack?

“I don’t know, Ron,” Harry admitted. “But you need to bring her back, too. And be careful...I’m afraid all of this may be a trap, and you could be next.”

“What’s that supposed to...Harry? Harry!” Ron shouted, but the line went dead. “Bugger all,” he muttered and went to redial the number, but found that he couldn’t get any service.

Trembling with fear and rage, Ron sat down hard on the bed. He buried a hand in his hair, his other one clutching the cell phone. Hermione was gone. They would use her as bait to draw out Harry, or worse, they would use torture her to get information and then attack Harry themselves.

Ron knew Draco hadn’t cracked under the pressure of torture. He may have been found, but Draco was stronger in his mind than he was physically, and that was saying a lot. He wouldn’t betray the Few or ARMED, no matter how badly they hurt him.

And how had they gotten Hermione in the first place? How had they found Hogwarts if Draco hadn’t said anything? No one outside of the Few knew the location! Exasperated, Ron threw the phone across the room and against the wall, where it shattered into pieces.

Luna had been watching this. Hesitantly, she moved toward him. Something was dreadfully wrong, that much she gathered. She placed her hand on his shoulder and knelt down in from of him.

Ron looked up into Luna’s face, and when his eyes met hers, he felt the last puzzle piece fall into place in his head. Luna had appeared at the castle from nowhere. How had she known the location? It had changed after the War had began, which meant it had changed since her school days. She had come bearing vital information, and then their top spy gets captured as soon as he sets foot in the fortress she reports against. Dementors find them on the Hogwarts Express, even though the train was heavily cloaked in protection Charms, and Luna knows exactly how to beat them. And then, suddenly, Harry Potter’s wife, his one true weakness, is snatched from underneath everyone’s noses by the same people who captured Draco and taken to the same place Luna had escaped from. The same place she was taking him.

Ron’s face contorted in a mix of betrayal, rage, and disappointment. A sound that seemed to be halfway between a snarl and a scream escaped from his throat. Luna’s eyes grew wide and she moved to back away, but Ron was faster and stronger.

Luna’s back hit the wall hard, expelling all the air from her lungs. She gasped to breathe, but couldn’t force anything into her lungs, not even with her elemental powers. Ron had lifted her clear off of the floor and had her pinned against the wall. His strong hands pressed hard into her arms, and even a good foot off the floor as she was, he still seemed to tower over her.

“WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR?” He bellowed at her. Luna winced and squirmed to free herself from his grasp, but that only mad him angrier. He slammed her against the wall again.

“I’m working for the Few!” She shouted desperately, and Ron shook her hard.

“DON’T LIE TO ME, LUNA!” He thundered. “You appear out of thin air, our best spy is captured after following your directions, and now Hermione’s been taken straight from Hogwarts.”

Luna couldn’t help it. She gasped. “The took Hermione?” She breathed. Ron roared and threw Luna to the floor. She sprawled across it and moved to get away from him, but he hand her by the wrist and forced her to her feet.

“DON’T PRETEND YOU DON’T KNOW!” He screamed, not caring that there were tears pouring down her face. “Harry trusted you, Luna!” How could she do this to them? “I trusted you! I TRUSTED YOU!”

He lifted her off of the floor and had her back against the wall again. He put his face right up against hers, and made sure she was looking at him. “I trusted you,” he whispered dangerously, his own tears now falling from his eyes. “I trusted you, and you betrayed me. you betrayed us all. If anything happens to Hermione, I swear to you, you will pay. Now tell me, who are you working for.”

Luna was sobbing now. She wanted to tell him everything, but all she could see in the man before her was her father. She wanted to explain to Ron, but she couldn’t concentrate. She wanted Ron to believe her, wanted to believe that he wasn’t like Eric, that he was just angry and didn’t understand and didn’t mean it.

When Luna didn’t answer him, Ron slammed her against the wall again in exasperation. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he was enraged beyond reason. Luna didn’t know that, however. A memory of Eric flashed before her eyes, and she screamed. She turned her head and with all of her strength, ripped her arms out of Ron’s. She blasted him with wind and sent him careening into the wall on the other side of the room. Ron slumped against it, then regained his bearing. He went to stand, but Luna was there, reaching for him with her hand. Her caught her around the wrist before she could release more wind on him, but that wasn’t her intentions. Her fingers grazed his temples, just enough, and everything went black.

12. Enchantress of the Night

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: You guys rock, just making sure you knew it. Any and all ideas for Chapter Twelve would be greatly appreciated, since I haven’t even started it yet! *yawn* stayed up way past my bedtime to finish this one, so I really hope you like it!

Chapter Eleven

Enchantress of the Night

She ran from her house as fast as her feet would carry her. They never had any visitors, and it would take a couple of weeks for the editors of her father’s quack magazine to get suspicious and drop by. If she left now, they would only find his lifeless body. She was determined they would never find her.

But where did she have to go? She was a murderess, but where did murderesses make their abode? Her instinct was to run to Hogwarts, but that would be the first place detectives would search for her, and how much authority did Dumbledore hold over the Ministry? And was the castle even open to students in the summer time?

She once again thought about running to her only friend, Ginny Weasley. She didn’t know where the Burrow was, but she could find out if she contacted Ginny. Of course, that would jeopardize Ginny’s entire family if they took a killer into their midst.

For a brief moment, Luna thought of tracking down Harry Potter and staying with him until she knew what to do. She knew that, even though he found her somewhat odd, he was kindhearted and would take her in if she explained her situation. Certainly no one would think to associate her with the raven-haired hero of the magical community, and she was certain that Harry was kept well hidden when school was out...which meant, if she somehow found where Harry was, she would have full knowledge of that location, making her an asset to enemies, a danger to Harry Potter.

There was no where Luna could go without putting other people in danger. As soon as she realized this, she stopped running, sat down hard on the ground, and sobbed. She was now truly an outcast, no where to run, no one to run to. She felt the wind pick up around her. It feathered gently around her body, trying to console it’s mistress, but Luna pushed it away, ignored her impulse to let it caress her. She knew that it wasn’t her powers’ fault, but she needed something to blame. She had her wand, she had the clothes on her back, and she had the wind and the road to guide her. No money, no food, no family, no friends.

Hiccupping, Luna looked around her. The trees of this area were prickly. The soil was dry and hard. The air was thick and magnetic, and the sun was shining too brightly. Luna knew that no matter where she went, it would always look like this. The world would always be cruel to her, for that was apparently her fate.

What was she to do? Sit there on the ground and cry for the rest of her life? Succumb to the harshness of the world even though she had been blessed with power beyond her wildest imagination? No...no, she would rise to the challenge of the world, she would show them that they could not, would not break her.

Determined to get herself out of this and get on with her life, Luna swiped the fallen tears from her eyes. When she looked back up, she let out a small noise of surprise. On the other side of the road, standing barefoot on the cracked and dusty Earth, were three women who hadn’t been there a few seconds ago.

Luna thought they were women, anyway. It was hard to tell. They had long hair that flowed past their knees. They were unusually tall for women; Luna squinted and realized they were taller than any man she had ever met, either. The reminded Luna of weeping willows, tall, slender and graceful, a regal air about them. The oddest part, however, was the coloring of these women.

They were as white as clouds, and nothing else. Their eyes and lips and other raised body parts were visible only because they had different dimensions. Their clothes, hair, skin, eyes... all white like snow. It was a bright white, too; So bright, Luna wanted to pull her eyes away, but their transfixing beauty made it impossible.

The tallest of the women, the one in the middle, stepped forward. It was then that Luna noticed there were items in the women’s arms. The one in the middle held a single sword across her outstretched palms. The woman on her left carried two crossed swords across her chest. The woman on the right had a wand and yet another sword crossed over hers. Those swords were beautiful works of art, long and thin, forged of a light and deadly steel. Their hilts were crafted of precious metals and decorated with priceless jewels. As beautiful as they were to gaze upon, Luna could feel an intense magic radiating from each of them. The single wand was a good three inches longer than a normal wand, made of a polished ebony with a stunning black opal handle. Luna could tell just by looking at the wand that it was no ordinary magical tool. It was a master’s device, enhanced only by the mystical powers of black opal and the witch or wizard it was specifically crafted for.

The tallest woman stopped advancing towards Luna and stared at her as solemnly as she could through colorless eyes. Luna was suddenly aware that she was still sprawled on the road, dirty and tear-stained. She slowly rose to her feet, trying to look as respectful as she could, given the circumstances. It took all of her strength, but she was able to match the enchantress’s stare. The woman cocked her head to the side, as if she was urging the younger woman before her to act, reminding her of a job she had to do. Luna thought she understood. Tentatively, she summoned a light gust of wind. The three Sages smiled in unison as their white robes fluttered around them.

The two who had stayed behind flung their heads back, eyes to the skies, and opened their mouths wide. A wordless song hung on the air, the sweetest melody Luna’s ears had ever had the fortune to hear. She watched the two in awe for a moment, transfixed, and then dragged her attention back to the tallest Sage. She was staring intensely at Luna, and as she did, the sky began to darken. Luna felt the cool bliss of raindrops on her face. She closed her eyes and let the cold water run over her battered body and soul. She reveled in the tranquility of the music and the storm for a moment, and then knew what she had to do. Spreading her arms, she called forth a flow of wind bigger than any she had ever tried to control before, and surrounded herself and the Sages in it. The tallest Sage once more began to advance upon her. As she did, a gust of wind blew gently at Luna’s ear.

“There was once a time,” It whispered to Luna. “ A time when the world was at peace with itself, when the Sun and the Moon crossed the skies hand-in-hand. The rains, stars, gales, and even the human race were a result of their bondage. But eventually, as men corrupted the world, the Sun and the Moon were forced to drift apart, never to come in contact with each other as they took shifts to watch over their wayward offspring.

“In an effort to keep their love eternal, they breathed their essence into one man and one woman. If those two people could overcome the challenges laid at their feet, they would find that, together, they could conquer the world and bring peace back to all. Each hundred years, a new pair is forged...and each hundred years, as men become more and more corrupt, the security of the universe slips farther and farther away.

“The Mother Moon gave her precious winds to her successor for protection. We are yours to command Luna, until your entire story is written and finished. It is your duty, as the Warrior of the Winds, to fulfill the prophecy or fade into oblivion as those before you did.”

“Enchantress of the Night,” Luna heard the woman’s voice echoing in her mind, summoning her back to the task at hand. “Your destiny is sealed. Do not falter from the road that is your fate. The greatest parts of your journey are for you to forge on your own, dear Luna. Do not let your future keep you from living in your present.”

She stopped a good twelve inches away from Luna and held out the majestic sword. Luna moved her hands so they were outstretched in front of her. The Sage hefted the blade in her hands and laid in Luna’s, pressing the sharp edge into Luna’s palm. Luna watched as her blood seeped around the steel and the flesh. The weapon was now officially hers.

“We will teach you,” The Sages said to her as one. “We have chosen the most worthy to help you on your quest, and when we are through instructing you, you will rival them in swordsmanship, magic, stamina, bravery, and stealth. Listen hard and listen well, Luna, Enchantress of the Night, for the fate of this world rests upon a thread, and it is by your actions and decisions that will decide whether the thread is to be severed or spared.”

~*~*~*~*~

After that, the Sages visited her every night. Luna found a deserted clearing in a forest and made a meager refuge for herself there. At least one came to her every night, starting at sunset, and they worked throughout the evening practicing swords and magic. The training was intensive and draining, but in several short months, Luna was a master at both kinds of dueling.

One fateful say, she dared to take a risk and visited Diagon Alley. She stopped in a cafe to purchase a drink when a rough hand grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

“Luna Lovegood,” Lucius Malfoy said, his eyes glinting with wicked pleasure, his words dripping with a twisted delight. “We’ve been searching for you for a year now. You are wanted by the Ministry for the murder of your father, Eric Lovegood. You have eluded us, but no longer. Come with me.”

He grabbed her by the wrist and towed her from the cafe. Luna stumbled along behind him, attempting to look afraid, all the while concocting a plan in her head to get herself out of the Ministry’s clutches. Her moment came when Lucius turned to shove her into the back of a black van. Luna’s free hand whipped out her wand and blasted Lucius with a Curse that sent him flying back into the steel frame of the automobile. Free of him, Luna turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could. Suddenly, her legs collapsed under her like jelly. Snarling, Luna uttered the counter Curse and scrambled to her feet as they regained their composure. Not soon enough, though. Lucius was upon her again, snatching her wand from her hand and taking her by the hair. Roughly, he jerked her head back to look at him. As much as she knew it would hurt, Luna wrenched her hair out of the man’s fingers, dropped to the ground, swung one leg out to knock him down, then sprang back to her feet. Lucius went down, but his associates were now pouring out of the black automobile, overpowering her and forcing her to her knees in surrender. Limping, Lucius came over to where Luna was thrashing wildly on the ground. She calmed when he approached, raising her head and peering angrily at him from behind the mess of hair that had fallen in front of her face. A new idea in mind, Lucius took out his wand and spoke a word. Instantly, Luna toppled over at his feet, momentarily unconscious. Mr. Malfoy smirked as the men who had brought this feisty child down carried her to the van.

He would feign ignorance to the Ministry, claiming that their lead had been a false one. Luna had fought well those few moments ago. All that awaited her at the Ministry was a make-believe trial and life in Azkaban prison. He knew it would be a shame to watch such a pretty, vivacious thing fall victim to the insanities of Azkaban. Smiling wickedly, Lucius got into the van and took a seat beside Luna’s limp form.

He had other plans for this one.

~*~*~*~*~

Luna’s body hadn’t felt so wonderful in months. She smiled in her sleep and snuggled tighter on herself. Her body felt like it was resting on clouds and surrounded in loving arms. She felt warm and comfortable and safe...and as soon as she realized it, she was afraid.

Instantly awake, Luna sat up too quickly. Her head went light and her vision went black as her blood rushed through her too quickly. She faltered for a moment, then straightened herself and looked around. She was in the most magnificent bed she had even see in her life: the mattress was firm and soft at the same time, the pillows were woven from silk, the blankets were thick and warm, and the curtains encasing her in the entire structure were a heavy green velvet. Confused, she glanced around and saw no one. Where was she? She remembered Lucius, and the cafe, the fight...but nothing after that. What was she doing here?

Hesitantly, she swung her feet onto the plush carpet and stood. Still no one in the room. Her eyes landed on a pair of elegant glass doors at the other end of the room. Curious, she made her way over to them. A twist of the expensive gold handle and they opened for her, allowing the blast of cold wind they had been keeping out to hit her hard in the face.

Luna ignored the gust and walked out onto the balcony, mesmerized by the scenery. Mountains, as far as the eye could see. Majestic, silver mountains wearing caps of blindingly white snow. Pulled by the desire to drink it all in, Luna went to the rail and dared herself to look down, but all she could see were the clouds beneath her. She was completely and utterly cut off from the rest of the world while she stayed in this tower, of that much she was aware. Snow began to softly fall around her as she assessed her situation. She wondered if she could shape the air to support her and float down from this beautiful isolation....

“Marvelous, isn’t it?” Asked a soft voice from behind her. Luna whipped around to face her companion. Through the gently falling snow she saw the shape of a person in the doorframe. She wasn’t able to discern whether it was a man or a woman, but just the mere sight of their outline in the fading light was enough to give her chills.

When Luna didn’t respond, the person in the door came a little bit closer. Her back pressed to the stone parapet, Luna slowly edged away from the approaching individual. She realized she didn’t have her sword or her wand with her. The only weapons she had were her two bare hands and the cold air around her. The snow started to thicken, the faceless person was getting closer, and Luna was running out of railing.

“I’ve heard your name fall from the lips of those in the Ministry, Luna Lovegood,” Said her pursuer in a silvery voice that made Luna stop edging away. The snowflakes were falling madly now, and Luna lost sight of the speaker. She gasped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She glanced at the hand from the corner of her eye. There was no doubt it was the hand of someone male. She held her breath, waiting for what would happen next.

“You’re wanted for the murder of your own father,” Came his sultry whisper in her ear. Her legs turned to jelly at the sound of that voice, out of both fear and longing. Suddenly, she felt an undeniable lust to break bones and slit skin, to feel the succulent surrender of her victim. How could one dangerously soft voice do that to her?

“Lucius says you’re quite the fighter,” He continued, moving his hand from her shoulder to the base of her neck. Luna shivered involuntarily, and she felt his breath warm on her neck when he smiled. “The wizarding world is on the brink of war, Luna, and I could use a warrior like you. Deadly...powerful...ambitious...” She felt him move behind her, and gasped when she felt his mouth on her neck. She trembled as he kissed her, and winced in surprise when she felt his teeth nip at her tender skin. “Beautiful...” He breathed into her ear. Luna wasn’t sure what to say, what to do. Who was this man, and what did he want from her?

“Join us. Join me,” He said, as if he had read her mind, and Luna felt compelled to nod her head.

‘No,’ Something inside her warned. ‘No, this isn’t good, this can’t be good. Don’t give in, Luna, don’t say yes...’

“My name is Damien,” He said softly to Luna after running his tongue over the shell of her ear. “The Dark Lord needs more allies, and I am his right hand man. Join me, and I can give you everything you want. Power, riches, and love. You can stay in the castle, and you will be cleared of all your charges. All I ask in return is your valiant services in the war. You went to school with Harry Potter, yes?”

Suddenly, Luna understood. He was one of the bad guys, he was working for Voldemort. He thought she was a cold blooded killer, and he wanted her to go after Harry.

“No,” She said sternly, wrenching herself out of his grasp.

“What?” She heard Damien ask, his silken voice incredulous.

“No.” She repeated solidly. She looked around to locate him, but it was impossible to see anything through the thick walls of snow.

“No one says no to the Dark Lord,” She heard him hiss somewhere to her right. She knew she would have to fight him now, and she felt the wind lacing through her fingers, begging her to call it into action. She stiffened her body and waited...waited...waited....

Luna felt Damien’s attack before she even saw the colors erupt from his wand. She rolled underneath it, steadied herself on her knees, and with two hands, blasted him with all the wind she could harness. She heard Damien grunt and fall over from the force of her attack. Livid, Luna got to her feet, placed her palms together, and slowly drew them apart, parting the veil of snow as she did. He lay there, crumpled on the ground, staring at her in amazement as she controlled the winds. It was the first time she had laid eyes on anything more than his silhouette, and she was caught completely off guard by his yellow eyes. The hood of his cloak fell back, revealing the rest of his face, and Luna uttered a cry of horror. She lost her control on the wind as she fell to her knees, gasping for breath.

“So the prophecies are true,” She heard him say softly to himself as he got to his feet. “You may be more of a boon to us than I thought, my lovely.”

Luna heard his incantation and felt her body slowly going numb. She had no idea what she would do when she woke up again, but she knew she would refuse to aid their cause. She remembered nothing after that.

~*~*~*~*~

The years passed by in a blur. Luna got her information from the wayward winds that passed by her balcony. Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort were engaged in the Finall War. Albus Dumbledore was dead. Constant information about people she had once known found its way to her ears. She commanded the winds to protect her friends, and they did as they were told. She stayed in her tower for those first four years of the War. Damien and Lucisu visited her often, attempting to coax her onto their side. Either that or they would threaten her. But Luna knew they wouldn’t go through with their threats. She was too precious to them for them to kill her, and if they were to find someone she held dear to her heart, they would be too afraid of invoking her wrath to bring them any harm. Not that there were any people in the world she held dear to her, anyway. Killers weren’t allowed feelings like that.

So she waited in the tower, waited and practiced her dueling skills and spoke briefly with her Sages. Her time to return to the War would come soon. She wasn’t sure what she would have to do, but she knew she had to get the information she had learned at the fortress to Harry Potter before he made a rash decision. Then, one morning, she was sent an unexpected telegram from a very unexpected person...

She listened to it with rapt attention, then turned from her balcony to get her things. It was time to go back; time to live the life fate had chosen for her.

~*~*~*~*~

Luna pulled her shaking hand away from Ron’s temple and watched as he opened his eyes and looked at her. Both of them were covered in sweat from the intensity of the vision she had showed him. They stared at each other for a long moment, thousands of thoughts and questions running through their mind. Luna wasn’t sure if Ron was the one she was looking for...Ron didn’t know what he had gotten himself into by bringing Luna on this rescue with him.

“Let’s get Hermione and Draco back,” Luna whispered, not sure what else to say, but aware she had to stem the silence before it gained control of them and they ended up doing something they would both regret. Ron nodded hastily, trying to slow his breathing down. He longed to hold her and kiss her, to do everything he could to try and erase those past years, even that past afternoon, but he knew he couldn’t.

Luna stood on trembling legs, looked around her at the mess their argument had made, and then realized too late that she had used too much energy by telling Ron that story. As her eyes rolled up in her head and her vision and thoughts slowly went fuzzy, she was aware of Ron’s arms saving her from her fall, and then nothing else.

13. Martyr

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: Sorry this one took me so long, guys. I was sort of banned from the computer...but all is well now! Chapter Twelve is completed and Chapter Thirteen is already started. Thanks for being patient!!!

Chapter Twelve

Martyr

Eric stood over her, his hand raised for another blow. There was nothing Luna could do but cower on the floor. Her face stung and felt swollen, and she was slowly losing he vision in her left eye, but Eric didn’t seem to notice. He smiled wickedly down at her pitiful form, bent to her level, grabber her by her hair, and jerked her to her feet. With seemingly no effort at all, he slammed her against the wall so hard Luna felt her head crack against it and the air escape her lungs. She sobbed and begged him for no more, but she knew it was all in vain. There was no getting through to her father; there never had been, not since her mother had died. She watched, helpless, as Eric held her against the wall by her shirtfront and removed his belt with his free hand. Luna’s wails increased when she realized what he was about to do. The first slash sliced into her calf. Luna yelped in agony, especially when the buckle snagged at her skin. Eric yanked when his whip refused to retract, and the hook torn open the flesh on her leg. She felt the heat from the wound and the blood running down her leg. She flung her head back against the wall and screamed in despair. Eric grinned maliciously at that and pulled back to hit her again. Luna braced herself.

Instead, Luna felt herself landing roughly on the floor. Startled, she looked up and gasped. Protruding from her father’s chest was the tip of a sword. His eyes were wide and slowly losing their light, and blood bubbled in his mouth. He gave a gurgle, and then slid off of the blade into a dead heap beside Luna. She would’ve screamed had she not recognized the person wielding the weapon that had just saved her life.

Ron didn’t give Eric’s body another glance. He dropped his sword as if it weighed a ton and knelt in front of Luna, taking her face in his hands. His worried blue eyes searched her face and her body, checking to see if she was damaged beyond repair, silently asking if she was okay. Luna wrapped her fingers around his wrists, buried her face in his palms, and cried her heart out. Ron gathered her in his arms and held her tight against his chest, pressing his lips against her head and promising her it would be okay, and for the first time in years, Luna knew she was loved....

Luna awoke from her dream with a start. She realized she didn’t know where she was. Startled, she sat up and looked around. It took a moment for her head to clear, but when it did, she recognized the scenery around her to be that of their room. She felt something move beside her and swung around to confront whatever it was. A tiny smile crossed Luna’s face when she saw Ron sleeping beside her, his head and arms sprawled across the side of the mattress, the rest of him stretched awkwardly out on the floor. Seeing him there, so peaceful and yet so vulnerable, sent a tumultuous wave of emotions coursing through Luna.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t deny that she was afraid of him now. She didn’t want to be, but could she really help it? Even though she understood he had been overcome with grief and wrought with anger, childhood visions of Eric continued to rewind and play over and over in her mind. She knew Ron wasn’t like her father, but her subconscious didn’t.

And yet, hidden not far beneath the fear of him, pulsed a river of feelings that were the complete opposite. Luna greatly admired this man who had fallen asleep while keeping vigil beside her. Being with him made her feel protected and safe, and even though he had been adverse to her accompanying him in the beginning, he treated Luna like an equal. He respected her opinion and even seemed to care for her.

Luna laughed bitterly at that last thought. Ronald didn’t care about her, not like she was thinking. They were allies and nothing more. Hardly even friends. If there had been some sort of deeper connection between them, it had dissolved after Hermione’s abduction. And yet...as absurd as she knew it was...she wanted Ron to care for and about her that way...because that was how she felt for him.

She knew she was thinking dangerous thoughts by going there. Luna stole a moment to stare at his sleeping form. As her eyes hungrily traveled over Ron, she couldn’t help but smile. To her, he was the most handsome man she had ever met, but in reality, he still had some of his goofy, boyhood traits. His ears stuck out a bit too much, his eyes seemed to constantly glitter, and that unruly mess of hair...without thinking, she leaned over and brushed a stray red curl out of his eyes. He looked so innocent like that. If they had never met before, Luna wouldn’t have been able to tell that he was the fiercest warrior and the best swordsman their side had. She thought it amazing that, only a couple of years ago, she had silently watched him in school, enamored by everything he did, even if it was immature and stupid. And now here they were, two adults thrown together in the cruelest possible way. Luna decided that whoever had decided her fate had a sick sense of humor.

“You’ve done so much to protect me,” she whispered to the sleeping Ron as she continued to stroke his hair. “But now it’s my turn to protect you. There isn’t enough room in this story for the both of us anymore, Ronald, and following me will only put you in jeopardy. Harry and the others need you. Ari and Ella need you. I can’t take you from them. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done. I’ll never forget you.”

And with that, she bent down, softly kissed him, gathered her things and left without another glance behind her.

~*~*~*~*~

He was walking on air. Well, he thought it was air, anyway. He wasn’t quite sure what he was standing on, but he knew he had to be on something. He grasped his sword loosely in his hand and continued going what he thought to be forward. He had spotted a silhouette far up ahead through the white mist he had found himself in, and he wanted to investigate it.

The dark shimmer began to grow larger and gain definition as Ron neared it. Eventually, he could tell that he was approaching a house. He felt a sudden urgency to be in this mysterious building, so he broke out into a sprint, slowing down only when he was on the stoop. Slowing his breathing, Ron tried the door. Before he could turn the handle, it swung open on it’s own accord. Cautious, he stepped over the threshold.

There were no lights, but that wasn’t a problem for Ron. He peered through the darkness. He recognized the shapes of furniture, but he saw no signs that told him someone was at home. He decided to focus on his ears instead of his eyes. Tuning out everything else, he listened for any creak of a floorboard, the ‘click’ of a shutting door, anything. Instead, he heard muffled sobs.

Concerned, he followed the noise up the staircase. He could sense that something wasn’t right when he reached the landing. The sound was growing stronger, but whether it was because Ron was nearing the source or because the sobs were intensifying, he coudn’t tell. Silently, he stepped onto the landing and found himself staring down a small hallway. Plaster from the ceiling littered the grungy brown carpet, wallpaper was peeling from the cracked walls, and a single dismal light bulb swung back and forth above his head, flickering in and out of life. Ron glanced around the neglected hallway. There were only three doors, and all of them were closed. Where was the crying coming from?

Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Ron whipped around in time to see a shadow pass under the door at the end of the hall. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his right hand tightened around the hilt of his sword; his left hand itched to pull out his wand, but Ron knew he’d need it to be free. Without a noise, he quickly made his way to the door and pressed his ear against it. The sobs he had been following were definitely coming from behind this barrier of weakening wood, and now they were mixed with little shrieks of agony. Slowly, he pushed the door open and peeked inside and instantly knew he had to do something.

To his far right, all Ron could see was the back of a big, big man as he undid the belt that was holding up his pants. The noises weren’t coming from this man, however. Ron watched, frozen in horror, as the man wrapped the belt in his fist and raised his arm, as if he was going to strike something with it. When his arm lifted, Ron found himself looking at a beautiful young woman. Her long blond hair was a tousled mess around her head, her face was streaky and red from tears and blood, black and blue from previous blows. Ron’s blood boiled as he stood there staring at Luna. He wanted to do something, but his legs refused to move him closer to her. He watched, transfixed, as Eric continued.

There was a sickening crack of leather on flesh when the man brought down his belt. The girl screamed in pain as the buckle tore a chunk of skin from her calf. Ron’s reverie broke when he heard her wail like that. He couldn’t let this continue. He had to save her, had to do whatever it took to make sure her pain ended. He didn’t know he was pushing his sword through Eric’s back until he felt the man’s flesh and bones surrender to his blade. Dead on impact, Eric slumped to the floor, as did Luna. Ron caught her in his arms and held her tight as she cried against him. He realized in that moment that he would pay whatever price asked of him to protect Luna. She was safe as long as she was with him, and as long as that was the case, Ron knew he would never let her go....

Ron felt the fog of sleep slowly lifting from him. Yawning, he lifted his head and blinked to clear his vision. That had been one of the most unusual dreams he had ever dreamt, he had to admit. And yet, he knew it was somewhat true. Ever since what had happened with the Dementors on the Express, Ron had felt an overwhelming desire to protect Luna. He hoped it was just instinct, since he would never admit that it was anything more than that.

Remembering why he had fallen asleep next to the bed in the first place, Ron looked up to check on Luna. Surprisingly enough, she wasn’t there. Figuring she had awoken already, Ron stretched his stiff limbs and went to find her. She wasn’t in the sitting room or the lavatory. Concerned, Ron went back to the bedroom. It was only then that he noticed her gear was gone from the chair.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered when he realized what had happened. She had decided that it was her turn to play the hero. Shaking his head, Ron gathered up his things and sprinted out of the suite, hoping against all hope that she wasn’t too far ahead of him.

~*~*~*~*~

Luna pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching through teary eyes as the train pulled out of the station. Their next stop was in Bulgaria to pick up some supplies from Viktor Krum, but Luna had no intention of ever reaching Bulgaria. Ron would go there looking for her, but when he got news that she had never showed, he would lose her trail. She felt terrible for leaving him behind like she had, but it had had to be done. Luna couldn’t risk losing Ron just because she had a violent future in store for her. The War needed Ronald Weasley, and by sending herself in place of him, she was ensuring that they would have him.

Maybe, just maybe, by dying to save the life of the man she loved, she would be forgiven for murdering the one before him.

A tear made it’s way down Luna’s cheek, but she ignored it. Something on the dock had caught her eye. She gasped when she recognized the person attached to the shock of red hair. Had Ronald seriously come after her? Did he possibly care about her? She watched him longingly as his troubled eyes searched the cars of the passing train. Theirs would never meet, though. The train pulled out of the station before Ron’s eyes made it to her window. As they passed through the magic barrier of Forgotten Valley, Luna sat back in her seat, closed her eyes, and cried herself to sleep. There was no going back now.

~*~*~*~*~

Ron knew Luna had been on that train; the only problem was, he didn’t know where the train was headed. He needed to think fast. He couldn’t lose Luna. She was too important to the mission, too vital to the Few to be lost because she felt like being a martyr.

Drastic times call for drastic measures. Without questioning his decision, Ron turned on his heel and raced through the busy streets of the marketplace. A couple of turns down some choice alley ways led Ron to a forbidding doorway he knew all too well. He took a deep breath, then knocked on the door.

‘I have to do this,’ He thought as the sounds of movement inside made their way to his ears. ‘I have no other choice. She’s too important to us.’

The door creaked open. All Ron could see was the darkness inside. Suddenly, from out of the blackness, an elegant voice purred.

“Ronald,” It said in a dangerously accented Spanish voice. Ron tried not to shiver at the sound of it. No matter what, this was strictly a business trip. His sole intention was to get Luna back.

The door opened wider, and a tall, slender body materialized in front of Ron. The figure wore a suit of moonlight-pale skin underneath a black Victorian style gown spun from lace and velvet. Raven colored hair hung in softly curling tendrils that reached the midpoint of the figure’s delicate back. Full, tantalizing lips parted in a currently perfect smile. Ron couldn’t help but notice that they were tinted the same color as his hostess’s eyes.

“I have a favor to ask of you, Isabella,” Ron said as solidly as he could. This woman scared the living daylights out of him, but he refused to show it. He willed his hands to stop shaking as he reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt. “And I have more than enough to pay for your services if you agree.”

Isabella smiled wider at Ron and watched hungrily as he shed his shirt. “You have my attention, Ronald Weasley,” she purred again in her sultry Spanish voice. She reached out her hand and placed it on his arm. Ron bit his tongue as hard as he could to hold back the shiver his body wanted to release. Isabella’s hands were like ice. “Come inside and we shall discuss this. My, it had been a while since we have seen each other, has it not?”

Ron closed his eyes and followed Isabella into the dark room. The door shut loudly behind them. He hoped Luna was worth this. It was pitch black inside. Ron kept his eyes closed and listened as Isabella moved around him. Eventually, her voice floated back to his ears.

“What is it I can do for you, mi pelirojo?” She cooed as she came back to him, placing her cold hands on his shoulders. Ron’s heartbeat began to race when he felt her tongue glide over the side of his neck.

“I...need you to find someone for me,” he rasped as Isabella pressed herself against him.

“Mmmm,” he heard her respond. She moved to the other side of his neck. Ron closed his eyes tighter and willed himself to think of Luna. “Intriguing. And you are willing to pay with yourself this time? It must be a special someone for you to make such an offer to me.” She chuckled softly and ran her long fingernails softly down his bare chest. Ron felt her stand on her toes and whisper in his ear, “I’ve been dying to know what you taste like for years now, Ronald.”

“Promise you won’t hurt her when you find her,” Ron begged with Isabella, ignoring the pounding of his blood in his ears. He had to do this right, otherwise he and Luna would both suffer.

“For a little extra, I will do anything you ask,” Isabella promised as she licked his neck again.

“Good,” Ron gasped. He was having a hard time breathing. “I just need you to find her and tell me how to get to her. You’re the fastest there is, Isabella.”

“Si,” She agreed as her hands made their way back up his chest.

“Take as much as you need, but I don’t want any...repercussions,” Ron added hastily. He felt Isabella’s plump lips pout.

“That is too bad. I was hoping you might join me for a while,” She admitted sadly. Ron shook his head.

“I’m happy the way I am. Now let’s be quick about this and get it over with.”

Isabella laughed as her arms went around his neck. “I don’t think so, Ronald,” She buried her fingers in his hair. “I’ve waited an eternity for someone like you. I believe I shall take my time in extracting your payment.”

Ron suppressed a groan. He had wanted this to be quick and painless, but he was in no position to argue. Isabella had done good work for him in the past, and tonight, she was his last resort. He had sent many of their captive Death Eaters to Isabella to pay for the jobs she did for them, but this was the first time he had actually come to her himself. He had to admit, he was nervous.

“Relax,” Isabella purred, leaning up to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “It’s no fun if you’re tense.”

‘Not like I can help it,’ He thought as Isabella began to gently kiss his neck. After a while, her kisses became more fervent, and Ron could feel her changing against him. To steady himself, he placed his hands firmly on her hips, hoping to keep his balance and stimulate her at the same time. Isabella smiled against him, and he felt the prick of her teeth. He tried to relax like she had told him to. One mistake, and he would end up either dead or the living dead. He felt Isabella’s sharp bite and clenched his teeth and his grip on her waist. She responded by pushing deeper in him. Ron felt the blood dribble past her lips and chin, down his neck and onto his chest. He really, really hoped Luna was worth this....

14. Mercenary

Note: Hola, mis amigos! “Mercenary” is a really short, insignificant chapter, but I’m hoping it will pave the way to a much, MUCH bigger chapter in maybe a week or two. Patience is a virtue; cultivating it will pay off big time when you see what I have in store for you, I promise! Thank you soooo much for taking the time to R/R!

Chapter Thirteen

Mercenary

Keeping to the shadows, the black-cloaked figure glided unseen through the dark streets. She cut through the warm summer air like a hot knife through butter. She knew not the discomfort brought upon the body by humidity. She didn’t understand what it was to be hot, cold, wet, sticky or dry. She never had, and she had long ago accepted the fact that she never would. Once upon a time, though, when she had been but a girl, it had bothered her. She was not given the liberty to feel. She could see and smell and hear well enough, and above all else, she could taste, but her body was numb to any kind of touch, save the kind that would end her life.

Long ago, when she had been young and restless with the world, Isabella Rocio Montenga had held a passionate grudge against her father for the curse he had bestowed upon her. She had hated her mother for chosing him over suitors as grand as dukes and earls, even a prince or two. She had hated herself for being beautiful, but not allowed to associate with the young men because she didn’t have a heart to give to them.

However, as the centuries wore on, Isabella learned to accept her individuality and use it to her advantage. She honed her powers and perfected the ancient deadly arts that were her father’s legacy unto her. She became one with her inability to experience the sweet bliss of feelings. With no soul to call her own, she could not feel guilt, depression, anxiety or loneliness. And as the men got more and more beautiful every hundred or so years, she could easily move from one to the next without feeling heartbroken. That was another incentive; Her lovers would eventually die. Isabella would live forever. She was also one of the most inconspicuous assassins to ever walk to earth, for who would suspect such an innocent, pulchritudinous face? Being half Spanish gypsy, half vampire occasionally had its benefits.

Isabella knew quite a bit of magic, but she knew she was mostly hired for her clean kills and unrivaled ability to track down anyone in a matter of hours. Before the War had started, she had simply worked for whoever offered her the highest pay. Word of her expertise spread, and when the War began, Isabella knew she had to make a choice: Play mercenary for both sides, or choose to loyally serve one of the two dominant forces. Though she had been offered many glorious things to ensure she picked sides, it was not in Isabella’s nature to be loyal to anyone; she had both of her parents to blame for that.

Maria Cortes had been a beautiful Spanish gypsy in 1632. Her tantalizing dances had called forth the attention of many interested men, from commoner to royalty. Her beauty, it was said, could rival that of any queen, whether she be Spanish, English or French. Not many knew that she was a witch, a skilled enchantress with both her body and her wand. Isabella knew that, had her mother not been blinded by such a thing as foolish as love, she could’ve been born a princess and have lived a normal life. Instead, Maria chose an immortal man to father her only daughter.

Alfonse Montenga had fallen victim to an unfortunate accident some two hundred years previous and was cursed to spend the rest of eternity as a vampire. Love, as it is a beautiful thing, was alien to him. Lust, however, was a different story. Upon hearing tales of Maria’s incomparable magnificence, he had sought her out and won her heart. When word of their affair slipped to Maria’s father, the man had been furious and had lashed out at Alfonse with the only thing in his reach; a wooden steak. Maria was shocked and ashamed to find, all too late, what her lover really was. The embarrassment was multiplied when her bastard child was born with albino skin and crimson eyes. Maria and her infant daughter were banished from the caravan. Prostitution kept bread on the table and a leaky roof over their head for sixteen years, until Maria fell ill with a terrible disease. A year later, Isabella was an orphan with no one to turn to. Until one day...

A black-cloaked man had come to her, saying he had known her father. Intrigued, Isabella went along with him as he asked. Her mother had always ignored her questions about her sire, and Isabella was more than curious about the man who had given her white skin and red eyes. And perhaps this man would have answers to her questions, like why she constantly had to prick herself to quench her seemingly insatiable thirst for blood and why she felt so uncomfortable in the sunlight. Imagine her surprise when her father’s closest friend, a man with a thick, unfamiliar accent who called himself Dracula, told Isabella that she was only half human.

Isabella cast those thoughts far from her mind. She had a job to do, and now was no time for reminiscing. Being only half vampire, Isabella was not given the ability to shape shift into a bat, but she had been graced with wings. Springing into the night sky, she stretched out her arms and, with a sickening rip of surrendering flesh, felt her leathery wings unfold and bear her upon the summer breeze, off into the distance as she followed Luna’s scent.

~*~*~*~*~

Ron felt cold; cold and empty. Groaning, he pulled his weary body to his knees; instantly, the world began to swim before his eyes. It took him a moment to steady himself and stop his vision from spinning. He leaned down and braced his hand against the unforgiving stone floor, but his grip slipped and he crashed down to the ground again, his side stinging with pain when he hit. He felt warm, sticky liquid on his bare torso; confused, he ran his hands through it and peered at it through the blackness. The scarlet glimmer of his own blood shimmered in his eyes as it dripped down his fingertips. It was then that he felt the throbbing in his neck. His bloody hand went to nurse the pain, and when it did, it encountered two half-healed holes. Ron winced when he touched them and remembered; Luna leaving, him chasing her down, missing the train, running to Isabella...

Suddenly scared, he bit his tongue against the pain and probed the wounds. He let out a huge sigh of relief when he felt his vein a few centimeters below them. Isabella had done as he had asked; taken her share of blood and gone. He was at no risk to become one of her kind.

Dizzy from loss of blood, he slowly rose to wobbly feet. Isabella was nowhere to be seen, so Ron assumed she had left to find Luna. Lightheaded, he pulled his shirt on, swiped away the drying blood on his neck, and stumbled out of the dark room. Outside in the alley, dawn was breaking over the rooftops. As he took in a deep breath of the crisp morning air, feeling his head clear as he did. Thinking somewhat straight again, Ron felt a sudden pang of instinct in his stomach. Something wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure what, but he knew he had to get to Luna before Isabella did. Fully awake now, Ron broke out into a run, the hilt of his sword bouncing along beside him, a constant reminder that he didn’t have time to let his personal wants interfere with his job. For the first time in his life, though, Ron found that he didn’t care.

He rounded a corner and came to another door. Impatiently, he pounded on it until the doorknob turned. A drowsy young man in his nightshirt stood in the doorway. He blinked a few times at Ron, and then his eyes snapped open in recognition.

“Ronald Weasley,” He stammered in a lilting Scottish accent, his face burning red at being caught by such a prestigious figure in the War while he was in his pajamas. “How can I help ye?”

“I need a broom, William. The fastest you’ve got. And I need it now.” Ron said, glancing around him anxiously to make sure there were no eavesdroppers. William didn’t miss the urgency in his superior’s voice.

“Aye, I’ve got what ye need. Come, come inside and I’ll get her for ye. Won’t be but a minute.”

“I don’t have a minute,” Ron said as he followed the younger man inside. He didn’t know how far ahead Isabella was, but he knew he needed to catch her as quickly as he could. He had to get to Luna.

~*~*~*~*~

Two hundred and fifty miles away, Luna leaned against an evergreen pine tree, watching as the sun set below the gigantic treetops. She knew these mountains were nothing compared to what lay ahead of her; even now, she could see their faint outlines in the distance, calling her, taunting her. Remembering her.

A cold wind blew past her, and she gripped her cloak tighter around her slender body. Earlier the previous morning, she had awoken in a cold sweat. Terrified, she had drawn her sword and was ready to fight before she realized she had been jarred out of sleep from the stopping of the train. As she calmed her body down, she had realized that something wasn’t right. She sensed that she was caught in the middle of a deadly trap; death was lurking in those snow-capped mountains, and yet, she felt as though something was coming towards her from the other end.

She had spent today hiking the invisible trail that would lead her back to Damien’s base, looking over her shoulder every so often. She made sure the winds reported to her on the hour, but they had no news for their mistress. Luna had shrugged the feeling off, figuring it was just her gut anticipating what lay ahead of her. Now, however, she was certain it was more than that. The wind carried no information, but her woman’s intuition told her otherwise. Something was going on, and the cards weren’t stacked in her favor.

Luna maneuvered so that her back was to the tree, enabling her to see what was going on on either side of her. She felt the weight of her blade as it hung against her left thigh, and her wand dangled against her right hip, in perfect reach of her left hand when she went to grab it. All she could do now was wait...wait and wait and wait until it came. It wouldn’t be long now.

15. Prisoners of War

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Note: Forgive me for making this chapter shorter than the last one. I promise, all these little random chapters will make sense by the end of the story. Stay awake, people! I promise, promise, PROMISE you’re going to love chapter fifteen! It has a *drum roll, please* surprise in store for you wonderful fans of this first story of mine. Thanks for sticking with me!

Chapter Fourteen

Prisoners of War

Draco heard the heavy door being unlocked from the outside, but he didn’t look up. Let them come and do to him what they wished, but they would get no more information out of him. He was too close to death as it was to feel the pain of their torture. He figured they knew that, for why else would they throw him in this dank dungeon cell if not to say, “We’re through with you, you may die now,”?

He sensed the light from the hall flood his dark room as the door swung open. He closed his eyes tighter against it, willing the light to go away so he could back to his final thoughts of his beloved family in the peace of the darkness. He heard rough voices, someone straining, and then a soft thud on the cold stone floor. Someone started sobbing as the door closed. Intrigued, Draco looked up at his new inmate. What he found took his breath away.

Hermione was sprawled across the floor, face buried in her stretched-out arms as she cried her heart out into them. Draco felt a sudden wave of hatred for his captors for extracting the information about her from him and then treating her so harshly.

“Hermione?” He whispered. As soon as she heard his voice, Hermione’s head snapped up, peering through the darkness to locate him.

“Wh-wh-who’s there?” She stammered weakly. Draco’s heart broke at how defeated she sounded. He inched himself closer to her.

“It’s me, Hermione; it’s Draco.” He took her face in his hands and directed her eyes to his. He watched the recognition fill her cinnamon eyes, and then she was throwing her arms around him, clutching her to him for all she was worth, sobbing into his chest. Draco smoothed her hair, willing her to calm down so they could speak.

“What ha-ha-happened?” She stuttered through her tears. Reluctantly, Draco explained everything to her, starting from the conversation he had eavesdropped on to how Damien had probed the whereabouts of Hermione from Draco’s mind. By the end of it, Hermione had pulled away and was watching him intently, her tears momentarily subdued.

“I’m so sorry, Hermione,” He whispered, hoping she believed the sincerity in his voice. He watched as she sat in stunned silence. He knew it was probably too much for her to absorb all at once, but he also knew there had been no other choice but to tell her. After a while, she spoke to him.

“It’s not your fault Damien got in. You did the best you could,” She glanced up at him through the darkness, her almond-shaped eyes genuinely relieved. “You protected Harry and the bases. Thank you, Draco.”

“But they got you,” He insisted, refusing to let himself off the hook that easily. “And not only did they get you, they had to have known the location of the castle to capture you, which means I only jeopardized ARMED and the Few more!”

Hermione waved it off. “They already knew the location of Hogwarts. I’m not sure how, but it’s certain by now that they did. And you jeopardized no one. Harry will stay at Hogwarts and prepare for the advance on that castle that will surely come now that they know where to find us. Ron and Luna are, to the best of my knowledge, still coming for you, and they were probably told by now that I’d be here too. Everything is going to be okay.”

“How is it going to be okay?” Draco choked. “They will kill us here if we remain silent! It’ll take at least another five days for Ron and Luna to get here, and how are we certain Luna isn’t a spy and leading yet another one of us into a trap? Her information and her whereabouts of this base, and now us getting captured...it’s all too coincidental, Hermione, and you know it. What do you expect us to do until they get here?”

Hermione thought in silence for a moment. Draco wondered if she had cracked that easily so early into her capture. Finally, she looked up at him again and said, “You leave our survival to me. I have friends in low places as well as well as high ones. We’ll take them down from the inside as best as we can. They will get no information out of us. Trust me.”

~*~*~*~*~

‘They will both return.’

Harry read the short note over and over again. An owl had brought it in the middle of the night while he had been contemplating his options. It was unsigned, but Harry recognized the handwriting to be that of the Spell Caster’s.

Agitated, he crumpled it up in his hand. With his wife now involved, the last thing he wanted to do was sit back at Hogwarts and leave this in the hands of Ron, Luna, and some magician who’s identity he didn’t even bloody know. And yet...

Harry didn’t know how the enemy had discovered the whereabouts of the castle, but the undeniable fact was, they had, and there was nothing about it he could do. He was a husband, but at the same time, he was the leader and protector of more than one thousand people in Hogwarts alone. He was missing his best fighter and his best spy to this mission; he knew full well he couldn’t afford to sacrifice himself, no matter how much he wanted to go after Hermione. She would want him to stay at Hogwarts, anyway. He could hear her angelic voice echoing in his ears as he imagined what she would say.

“They’re going to come to Hogwarts now, Harry,” Hermione’s ghostly voice whispered. “The Few and ARMED are going to need you more than I do. Trust Ron.”

Trust Ron. Trust Ron with Hermione’s life? Harry closed his eyes and kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. He had no other choice. He had to do what was right, even if that meant leaving Hermione’s safety in the hands his of best friend. This time, Harry Potter had to step down and let someone else be the hero.

~*~*~*~*~

Ellanee’s long, delicate fingers plucked at strands of air. The others watched as she spun her chosen winds into intricate circles, whispering the words of power as she went along. After a moment, she braced her palms together, closed her eyes, and slowly spread them apart. The other two could see the picture suspended in the air between Ellanee’s hands; a beautiful young woman was leaning against a tree that was rooted high upon a forested mountain. The sky was debating whether it wanted to be a rosy pink or a dusty lavender for that night’s sunset. It was clear the woman was waiting for something, and unfortunately, the three women knew what it was she was anticipating.

“After all we’ve seen her put through,” Trilithiana sighed, shaking her head. “And with the rest still to come...isn’t there something we can do to make sure she gets through this?”

Ellanee twisted her hands, and the image disappeared. Sighing, she looked at her twin sister, thinking the very same question. Of course she was thinking the same question; that was why Trilithiana had asked it in the first place, to give voice to her muted sister’s thoughts. Ellanee returned the favor by looking to the third woman, sharing the favor of sight with Trilithiana like she had shared her voice with Ellanee. They both watched through Ellanee’s eyes as the eldest of them sighed.

“Ellanee...Trilithiana...there is nothing more we can do for them until their day of judgment, and we knew that from the beginning. You have no idea how it hurts me to sit back and watch her face trials like this, but they need to happen in order for the prophecies to be fulfilled.”

“Everything was coming along so smoothly. Is there absolutely no way we can interfere to make sure she stays on the path?” Asked the blind Trilithina, this time as the result of her own thoughts instead of her muted sister. Ellanee nodded her encouragement, but their older sister was shaking her head.

“I fear there is nothing at all we can do, dear sister. I know you have the best of intentions, but not even we know the Future. Anything we do could damage the plan Fate decided upon. They are on their own now, and they need to learn to rely on each other to carry this through to the end.”

“And yet, if we do nothing, we could be jeopardizing the last chance this world has,” Ellanee thought. Trilithina voiced the opinion, and the third woman shook her elegant head.

“It’s a chance we’re going to have to take. It’s time we stop meddling and put our trust in the Chosen Ones. Only they can save themselves now.”

16. The Definition of Love

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: Finally, the short, boring chapters are over! They were about as annoying to write as I’m sure they were to read, so I’ve decided to surrender a bit and give you guys the kind of chapter you’ve waited so diligently for. Thanks for your patience, and I really hope you enjoy chapter fifteen!

PsyGirl-- I wasn’t sure how to contact you, so I went to one of my friends who speaks Spanish, and he did his best to help me. I apologize for the both of us if it doesn’t translate perfectly.

Chapter Fifteen

The Definition of Love

She felt the air shift uneasily around her, and she whispered softly to it in an effort to calm it and in turn, to still her own nerves. Her shoulders had tensed long ago, and her neck was beginning to ache from the strain. Nervously, she ran her fingers over the smooth handles of her sword and wand. She knew not which one she would need more that night, but she was certain that whoever dared to face her in either such battle was making a deadly mistake. As the wind picked up again, blowing soft tendrils of hair around her face, she suddenly remembered how her duel with Ron had gone. Slipping an elastic off of her wrist and around her hair, she smiled wryly to herself; how long ago it all seemed, when in reality, little over a week had passed. She finished binding her hair and went back to her watch when every single muscle in her body tensed in instinct. Luna knew in that moment that she had been caught off her guard.

In one fluid, perfect motion, Luna spun to her left, narrowly avoiding the hands that had been reaching for her shoulder. The woman before her looked both surprised and enraged to have been found out so quickly. Luna nimbly stepped out of her reach before stopping and giving her a questioning stare. The albino beauty smiled, her full scarlet lips parting to reveal eerily-perfect teeth.

“Excuse me,” She said in a thick Spanish accent. “I was wondering if you knew a certain Luna Lovegood. I have a message for her from Ronald Weasley.”

Luna brightened at the sound of Ron’s name. Perhaps this wasn’t the threat she had been anticipating.

“I’m Luna Lovegood. Ronald sent a message with you?”

“Si,” Said the woman with a nod. “He said, ‘Traicion es un crimen que se paga con la muerte.’”

Luna looked at the newcomer in confusion. “Excuse me?”

The woman smiled again, and Luna noted in horror for the first time that her eyes were blood red.

“Prepare to die, Luna Lovegood.”

Luna’s brain was still processing the woman’s last remark when she was knocked off-balance and sent tumbling to the ground by a blast of a jet of ruby-tinted magic. Finally, her mind no longer caught off of it’s guard, Luna pulled out her wand as the raven-haired assassin reached down. She grabbed Luna around her throat and lifted her bodily off the ground. Luna called upon a particularly strong gust of wind that sent the woman spinning into a tree trunk. Instantly, Luna sent a barrage of hexes and spells at her adversary, her wand whipping in complicated patterns as it emitted a torrent of blinding colors. Certain she had defeated her opponent, Luna lowered her wand, gasping for breath. As the various colors of smoke drifted away from the tree, Luna saw, to her horror, the beautiful assassin standing before her, her smile wicked and satisfied. Luna knew she had impeccable aim with her wand, and yet none of her attacks had left even a blemish on the woman. Her red-eyed enemy stepped forward, and in an instant, Luna understood.

Her wings split from her arms again, and Isabella sighed in contentment to have them free from the confines of her flesh once more. She was amused at the terrified look on Luna’s face as her canines transformed into fangs and her manicured nails shaped themselves into thick, pointed talons. Fully transformed, she took another step closer to Luna, savoring the sweet smell of the girl’s fear. As soon as Isabella had laid eyes on Luna, she had fully understood why Ronald had sent her on this mission with such haste. Luna was beautiful and powerful, and Isabella knew she had won the red-haired warrior’s heart. It was Isabella’s nature to be jealous and spiteful, and there was something about Ronald that intrigued her. She would be better for him than this simple mortal would ever be, and given a couple of centuries, she was sure Ronald would understand her logic. But first, Luna would have to be eliminated. She had proven to be a worthy opponent, but Isabella knew Luna didn’t stand a chance against her in her true form. With a bloodcurdling screech, she sprang at the blonde, already tasting her young and ripe blood on her lips.

Luna watched Isabella draw nearer in a frozen fright. This woman was a vampire, and Ronald had sent her to kill Luna. There was no way, no possible way he could betray her like that. Tears sprang into Luna’s eyes. She refused to believe it, refused to accept that he wanted her dead. Screaming in rage, Luna drew her sword and thrust it in front of her. She felt the soft skin of Isabella’s belly surrender to her steel blade, but Luna knew it wouldn’t be enough. The vampiress shrieked in rage and pulled herself away. Luna opened her eyes and sprang backwards. She would not be the one to die today.

Isabella advanced again. Luna spun out of the way, but not in time; the vampiress’s sharp claws raked four painful gashes down her arm. Luna winced and slashed at Isabella’s arm, slicing a deep wound across her shoulder. She sensed Isabella feint to her right and moved to counter her, but the mercenary outwitted her; Isabella grabbed Luna by the back of her neck and swung herself behind her and out of the reach of her sword. With surprising strength, she threw Luna to the ground, sending both her sword and wand spinning off in various directions. In an instant, Luna felt Isabella straddling her, pressing all her weight down to keep Luna’s struggles at bay. Luna shivered as the immortal’s cold hands brushed away the hair on her neck. There was a savage glint in Isabella’s eyes as she smiled down at Luna, her fatal teeth in perfect view.

“Do not fret, dear Luna,” She whispered maliciously to her prey. “Ronald will be happier with me for all eternity than he would be if he were to spend his mortal life with you. Doesn’t that make you happy? To die knowing he will love me more than he could ever possibly love you?”

Tears sprang into Luna’s eyes as her mind surrendered to Isabella’s taunting. While her heart insisted the siren was lying, Luna’s conscience could see where the pieces of the puzzle fit together. Seeing her victory in Luna’s anguished eyes, Isabella flexed her jaw and licked her lips, debating whether she should give this pitiful girl a quick and easy or slow and painful death. Deciding that going slower would satisfy her jealousy more, Isabella bent her head for the first bite. Luna gave up her attempts at resistance and closed her eyes, tears streaming from the corners. She pressed her lips together tightly to suppress her sobs of agony and betrayal. She would not fight to continue living a life in a world where she was not wanted. She thought of her life up until that moment; it was littered with disappointments and failures. Her mother, her father, school, the Sages, herself...and now Ron. Ron. Luna’s silenced tears came faster when she realized that, even though she had accepted what he had condemned her to, she couldn’t help but love him for who she had thought--who she knew--he was.

‘No matter what,’ She thought as she felt Isabella’s breath hot on her neck. ‘I will always love him.’

Millions of miles away, somewhere near the outskirts of the cosmos, three women watched with bated breath as the fate of the world for the rest of eternity was about to be decided.

In the dungeon cell he was sharing with Hermione, Draco fell to his knees, screaming and clutching his head. Hermione moved to aide him, but was caught off guard by a pounding, blinding pain in her head. Back at Hogwarts castle, Harry Potter tossed and turned in his sleep, the lightning bolt scar on his forehead throbbing in agony.

A gentle breeze blew by Luna, whispering a secret to it’s doomed mistress. Luna’s eyes snapped open in hopeful disbelief. Her mind went numb in shock. Her heart beat faster with a newfound faith.

Isabella was aching to sink her teeth through Luna’s tender flesh, deep into her pulsing vein. She smiled inwardly at the thought of calling the valiant Ronald Weasely her own for the rest of time. Deciding she had stalled long enough, Isabella unhinged her jaw and drew back, ready to strike with the swiftness, accuracy, and fatality of a viper. Luna closed her eyes again, knowing her sudden burst of hope had been in vain.

A scream shattered the silence of the forest like a stone through glass. Birds erupted from their perches in the pine trees, scattering their winged forms across the storybook sunset. A drop of water dripped onto Luna’s nose.

Luna opened her eyes again in confusion. The sight that met her turned her stomach inside out: Half of Isabella’s face was bubbling, the flesh melting off of the bones. Her hands flew to her disintegrating skin, her inhuman shrieks tearing the quiet twilight to pieces. Water dripped from her hair and skin onto the trapped girl beneath her. Isabella twisted to snarl at someone behind her and leapt towards them, completely forgetting Luna. The girl scrambled to her feet, grabbing her sword as she did. When she stood, she meant to jump into the fray and defeat the vampiress once and for all, but what she found before her stopped her dead in her tracks.

There was a glint of silver and a struggle of bodies, but with the sunlight behind them as it were, Luna couldn’t tell who was who. Something caught the corner of her eye. Luna turned and stooped to pick up the forgotten canteen. Furrowing her brow, she turned it over in her hands. There was the emblem of a cross branded on the front.

Another scream split the coming night, the one more savage than the first. Startled, Luna dropped the canteen and turned back to the battle before her in time see one of the outlines raise it’s arm and bring it down on the other’s chest. Instantly, the screams were silenced. Luna dared to hope that she understood what had just happened. She stood, frozen to her spot on the ground, as the astonishing scene played out before her.

His blackened silhouette slowly rose up from the ground. Luna watched his outline against the sky, breathless. He was standing motionless over Isabella’s bloody blody, a wooden stake dangling forgotten in his right hand. She wanted to go to him, but she was too shocked and terrified to move. Why had he come for her? Why had he chosen her life over spending eternity with the most beautiful woman on the planet?

He was turning to her now; Luna held her breath. As the crimson sun illuminated his face, she gasped, feeling as if she hardly knew the man before her. His flame red hair was soaked with sweat; beads of perspiration shone on his face, mixing with dirt and blood that Luna knew was not his alone. His shirt was torn to shreds, and Luna could see scratches coating his arms and chest, the black and blue bruise dominating his left shoulder...and two mysterious marks on his neck. She felt the urge to run to him, to touch him and prove to herself that he was real and alive, but his sapphire eyes locked on hers and held her in place. Luna knew she looked as bad as she did; covered in dirt, chest heaving, face streaked with tears, arm gushing blood. But as she read his eyes through the veil of twilight, she knew he didn’t care if she looked like she had crawled out of a hole, didn’t care that the vampiress he had just slain was more beautiful even in death than she could ever hope to be in life. As she stared back at her hero, she knew he understood why she had left...and he was telling her why he had come for her. She couldn’t take it anymore. She needed him--now.

The bloody stake in Ron’s hand fell to the ground as she ran to him. He caught her up in his arms and held her tight, pressing his lips against hers with an intense, obsessive force that surprised even him. Neither of them cared, though; Luna’s arms went around his neck and she rose against him as Ron teased her mouth apart with his. There was no possible way he could ever get as close to her as his body craved. She buried her fingers in his damp curls as he ran his hands down her slender back, pulling her tighter against him. He couldn’t feel his wounds anymore; all he knew was Luna.

His body wasn’t cooperating with his pounding heart, however. His anger at Isabella, his concern for Luna, finally finding her, seeing her giving up her fight for life, the battle, the killing, and now this overwhelming passion suddenly crashed down on Ron in an overbearing wave of exhaustion. He felt Luna’s body relax against his and he pulled away from her. Breathing heavily, he buried his face in her neck, stealing a well-deserved rest while savoring the essence of his love at the same time.

“You need rest,” He heard her murmur from above him. How could something as simple as her voice sound so sweet to him? “There’s a small town about two miles west of here. I can take us, if you’re up for it.”

Ron, too tired for a simple “yes”, nodded weakly against her shoulder. He wished he could stay against her like that forever. How could he possibly have come so close to losing her? Had he really been so blinded with the desire to bring her back that he had jeopardized her even more?

Luna smirked, led him to a boulder to sit on, and collected their gear. Bloody swords, half-open packs, and the broom Ron had arrived on. She carried them over to him, opened his arms and closed them around his gear, then pulled out her wand.

“We’ll get there faster if we Apparate,” She whispered as she closed his fingers around his wand. “Do you think you can manage that?”

For her sake, Ron nodded. Luna smiled, told him where they were going, and with a “pop”, they were gone.

17. Because the War Needs You

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: This took forever to write! I came down with a bit of writer’s block about halfway through. That, and trying to find a creative name for the final Sage, were my main problems. I’m sorry this one took so long guys. I hope you find it worth the wait.

Chapter Sixteen

“Because the War Needs You”

Something warm and bright was coaxing Ron awake. With a muffled groan, he rolled on his side, his body registering how comfortable the mattress, pillow, blankets and sunlight felt. He wanted to go back to sleep and stay that way forever, but it was too late; he was awake now. Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes. Squinting against the sunlight, he sat up and looked around. The room was simple: a white-washed double bed with a flowery blue comforter, a white-washed dresser, cream colored walls, a wooden walnut floor half covered with an ovular faded blue rug, and delicate lace curtains that covered the violets blossoming in the window box. He saw his and Luna’s gear in a neat pile in a corner, but no Luna. He moved to get out of bed to find her, but gasped as a searing pain shot through his body.

He looked down at his bare chest and arms; they were covered in scabs from his numerous cuts. Clean linen strips covered the worst of the wounds. He smiled when he began to remember what had happened; Luna nearly carrying him into the cottage, stripping what was left of his shirt, her gentle hands cleaning and tending to his injuries, and then...just sleep. Ron felt a pressure in his shoulders and glared down at the now yellowish-green bruise covering it. As he sat on the bed, scowling at his newest deformity, the door swung open and Luna stepped in. Their eyes locked for a brief moment, each of them surprised to be face to face with the other so suddenly, and then Luna smiled and closed the door behind her.

“Good afternoon, sleepy head,” She said. Ron noticed she was carrying a tray with a pitcher of water, some new linen bandages and a jar of what he assumed was ointment. He watched as she came over to the bed, set the tray at the foot of it, and turned to him, hands on her hips.

“We seem to have misplaced all of our Insta-Heal Ointment. All I could find was this Muggle stuff. It’s been doing a pretty good job, but you may have scars.” She turned back to the tray and dipped a washcloth in the pitcher. As she wrung it out, she said, “After today, they shouldn’t need to be dressed daily.” Luna set the damp washcloth back on the tray and went over to Ron. He looked up at her from his spot on the bed and noted--with concealed amusement--that she didn’t make eye contact with him. She hesitated for a moment, then bent and began to unwrap the bandages. Ron shifted his hands behind him and supported his weight on his palms, making it easier for Luna to undress the wounds. She rolled up the old bandages and placed them on the tray, then picked up the washcloth.

Ron saw her bite her lip, but he pretended not to notice. He watched Luna’s face as she dabbed at his cuts with the wet cloth. The water was cool, and though it stung momentarily, he welcomed it on his half-healed skin. Though he tried, he couldn’t suppress a small sigh as she cleaned the gashes. Luna hid a smile by biting her lip a bit harder.

When she had finished the cleaning, she went back to the tray for the ointment and the bandages. The smooth gel of the ointment felt good on his scabs, but Ron enjoyed the feel of Luna’s fingers on his bare chest and arms more. Gently, she wrapped him back up with the linen, her slender hands making tight, secure bandages out of the strips. When she was finished, she cleaned up her supplies and left the room, blushing furiously. Apparently, she had been aware of Ron’s eyes on her during the whole process. He smiled at that; he liked teasing Luna.

She had left the door ajar. With a groan, Ron got to his feet and staggered over to the open doorway. He leaned against the frame and watched Luna place the tray on the counter of a walk-in kitchen. She felt Ron’s stare from across the room and glanced up. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Ron felt his own face flush this time. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who could tease without really meaning to. To his confusion, however, Luna’s eyebrows snapped together, and before Ron knew what was happening, he was sailing backwards into the bedroom again.

Gasping for the air that had been knocked out of his lungs, Ron pulled himself to his knees. Mouth hanging open, he looked up as Luna strode angrily into the bedroom.

“Why in the name of Merlin did you send a vampire after me?” She demanded.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but he was still too winded for words. Rolling her eyes, Luna swished her hand and a healthy flow of oxygen returned to Ron’s lungs. As black spots danced across his eyes, Ron got to his feet, swaying as he did. Once he had completely righted himself, he raised his eyes to Luna. He wanted to laugh at how cute she looked when she was angry, but he knew now was not the time for laughing. If he were Luna, he would want the truth just as badly. He tried to think of an answer to quell her anger, but nothing seemed suitable for the situation. There was no nice way he could put it, no version he could tell her that would make him sound like a grand, intelligent hero who’s rescue--though they had been made with her best intentions at heart--had gone terribly askew.

“I was desperate to get you back,” He admitted, deciding that the truth would be the best way to go. He stood up a little straighter and looked his companion square in the eye. “I knew what you were planning, and dammit Luna, I wasn’t going to let you go on alone. You mean too much to the Few, too much to ARMED. Harry would have my head if I lost you. I...” His voice faltered; his eyes flicked away from hers. He didn’t see the look of rapt attention on Luna’s face as he said his next words. Quieter now, his head bent as he gazed at the floor, the wall, anywhere but back into her eyes, he said, “I would’ve had my head if I lost you. So...I didn’t know what else to do. I went to Isabella and hired her to track you down so I could find you.” Angry now, he turned and punched the wall. “She promised she wouldn’t hurt you, Luna, I wouldn’t have sent her if I thought she would do what she tried to do. She took enough from me, I th---” His voice trailed off when he realized he had said too much.

He dropped his eyes again when he heard Luna come over to him. She rested one of her delicate hands on his bare triceps and with the other pushed back his red curls to reveal the bite marks on his neck. Ron missed the small gasp she gave; he was too busy trying to contain the goose bumps her touch had resurrected.

“You let her bite you?” Luna breathed, moving herself so he was forced to look at her.

Ron watched her for a moment, his eyes searching her face as he tried to discern whether she was worried for him or herself. “That’s how she takes her payments,” he explained. “So that’s how I paid her. She didn’t turn me, if that’s what you’re staring so intently at me about.”

“How are you sure?” Luna demanded, ignoring the frivolity of his last remark.

Ron reached down and took her hand. Luna watched, mesmerized, as Ron led her fingers to his neck. “Do you feel the vein there?” He asked. Luna nodded blankly, her mind a whir of thoughts. “Notice how the bite is above the vein. Had Isabella gone perhaps a centimeter lower, well,” Ron smiled at Luna and removed her hand from his neck. “Perhaps then we would have reason to worry.”

He broke away from Luna and went over to his gear in the corner. He needed to catch his breath; he hated how he was always left so unnerved whenever she stood close to him or looked at him as she had been. He hefted his sword into his hands to clean it, but found the blood from the battle already wiped away by Luna. He turned to thank her, but his words caught in his throat before he could speak them.

A single tear was making its way slowly down her cheek. Ron felt his heart break when he noticed there were more filling her eyes, waiting for their turn to fall. He had seen Luna cry plenty of times; occasionally, he had even been the cause of the tears. He never liked catching her in such a vulnerable human act, but this time it was different. This time, he didn’t see defeat, betrayal or anguish in her face. This time, Luna seemed more amazed and confused than anything else. For the first time since their mission had begun, Ron didn’t know what to do.

“Why?” She whispered after what seemed like an eternity of silence. “Why did you let me in that first night? Why did you let me come on the mission? Why...why did you risk you life to come after me, Ron? Why did you choose me over her?” The tears flowed thickly from her eyes now, and her voice cracked when she spoke to him, but never once did he see that look on her face change. He knew how easily he could answer all of her questions. He had admitted it to himself a while ago, but to speak it out loud to her...now, in that moment, after everything that had already happened and before everything he knew was doomed to come....

It seemed so perfect, like the exact thing they both needed to hear, but if he said it, he would be committed to it. Half of him wanted nothing more than that, but his skeptical side wondered if it was true, and if admitting it would jeopardize the mission. If he said it, he would be condemning himself a fate he wasn’t sure he wanted to be tied to, and yet the way she was looking at him....

“Because the War needs you,” he said quietly as he lowered his eyes. Without another word or glance at Luna, he grabbed a shirt from the drawer and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Thinking he would go for a walk, Ron moved to leave the cottage, but collapsed against the bedroom door instead. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against it and listened to Luna crying softly on the other side. As he felt two of his own tears slide down his cheek, he told himself he had done the right thing. A deep, ragged breath and he had pulled himself together. He tugged on the shirt and left the cottage, trying to dismiss the sound of Luna’s quiet sobs as they echoed around inside his broken heart.

~*~*~*~*~

Ellanee let out a muted gasp as she watched Ron leave. ‘We have to do something!’ She thought to Trilithiana, who agreed and voiced the comment to their third sister.

“There is nothing we can do,” She said sadly without taking her eyes off of Ellanee’s vision. “We cannot interfere. We’ve done enough for her already. It is not our place.”

‘They were so close,’ Ellanee thought, her heart breaking for the human race as their last hope collapsed in a rush of tears and pride. Trilithiana heard the thought, but remained silent. Their sister was right; there was no more they could do for Luna. They had taught her combat, had honed her magical abilites, had schemed and dabbled in the lives of humans until she and Ron had been thrown together. Once they had been reunited however, the Sages knew they needed to back off and let destiny and allure take over. They could only alter fate so much.

‘We were so close to ending this,’ Trilithiana thought to herself. ‘So close to ending a project that’s spanned hundreds of eons. Adam and Eve failed. Cleopatra and Marc Antony failed. Romeo and Juliet were close, but they too let us down. They were given a love reincarnated from history’s most prominent sweethearts, they came closer than the rest ever could, and at the last second, what happens? He denies it! And yet there is nothing we ca--’ Her thought trailed off as she spotted a loophole in the rules of the game. Excited, she looked up at her sisters. Sensing her ado, they turned to stare at her. Even through the milky film that obscured her vision, they could see in Trilithiana’s blind eyes that she had an idea. All at once, the third sister suddenly understood.

“I will do it,” She breathed. Ellanee and Trilithiana nodded and watched through Ellanee’s eyes as she disappeared on a gust of wind.

~*~*~*~*~

On the mountain, Ron could’ve sworn he heard Luna say she knew of a town close by, but looking around now, Ron saw no town. True enough, about two miles east stood the mountains where Isabella lay slain in the underbrush. All around the cottage however, was nothing but verdant, rolling hills covered in tall grasses and wildflowers. With a sigh, he pushed his hands in his pockets and began walking, not sure where he wanted to go. He was a good hundred yards away from the cottage when the wind picked up. Ron spun around, trying to tell himself he wasn’t hoping it was Luna. To his surprise, the woman standing a foot away from him was like none he had ever seen before.

She was an easy seven and a half feet tall, slender and graceful in white silk robes. As the wind blew around her, her long auburn hair billowed around her face, setting off her ivory skin and navy blue eyes. Awe, respect and fear mixed together in the pit of Ron’s stomach as he gazed at the entity before him. She had to be a goddess, for there was no other word for a woman so impossibly beautiful. The air rippled around her, and Ron could sense the presence of an ancient, somewhat foreboding power emanating from her. It made him want to get down on his knees and swear to follow her every word until the end of time, like a knight to his queen. And yet, as he stared at the otherworldly stranger, he couldn’t help but feel as if he had met her before. Several times before, actually, long ago in a different time and place.

“Who are you?” He stammered after a long time of simply staring at her. He wanted to Hex himself to eternity for asking such a stupid question to such an exquisite being, but his mind was not with him at the moment and there was nothing about it he could do.

“I am Seraphine,” She said simply, her melodic voice floating on the breezes she attracted as they fluttered by Ron’s ears. ‘Seraphine, like seraphim,’ Ron couldn’t help thinking. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he could’ve sworn he saw a smirk pass across the woman’s full, crimson lips. He blinked, and any trace of emotion in her face was gone.

Ron didn’t know what to say. He could handle a beautiful -- though emotionally volatile -- elemental and a fatally seductive Gypsy vampiress, but not a pulchritudinous angel who was at least a foot taller than him. There was no doubt in his mind that Seraphine wasn’t just out for a walk; she wanted something from him, and Ron wasn’t sure he had anything left to give. His body and heart had been spent on Isabella and Luna, respectively, and something about Seraphine told Ron that if it was a fight she wanted, there was no possible way he could win.

“Do you not recognize me, Great Warrior?” She said softly, and Ron could’ve sworn her voice had a tint of humor to it. Ron was going to answer “no” but was suddenly hit with a memory of one of the visions Luna had shared with him. Three ghostly women with bodiless voices, one of them stepping forward and handing Luna a sword...a torrential gust of wind...those same large eyes, only without color....

“You’re a Sage?” He breathed, staring at Seraphine more intently than he had already been. “But...but...you don’t look a thing like them!”

“The Enchantress is the only mortal allowed to view us in our true forms,” She said plainly, as if it was a well-known fact covered in children’s textbooks.

“Aren’t there supposed to be three of you?” Ron asked, still confused. What did the Sages want with him?

“My sisters cannot be without each other,” She said in that same simple tone. “Trilithiana is blind and must use Ellanee’s eyes to see, and Ellanee is mute without Trilithiana’s voice. We could not all be spared for this particular journey.”

“What do you want with me?” He blurted before he could stop himself.

Ron caught her smirk this time. “Do your questions never cease, oh Chosen One?” Seraphine asked humorously. “It’s not what I want with you that matters.” Ron watched, spellbound by the Sage, as she reached in the folds of her robes and pulled out his sword. “What you want with yourself is the reason I am here.”

Sapphire eyes lowered themselves to the magnificent steel blade. Long fingers loving caressed the hilt. “This blade was given to you for a reason, Warrior,” Ron heard her murmur as she continued to examine the sword. “Your entire life was given to you for a reason. Of course, it is your decision whether or not you will fight your destiny. No other can walk the path that was blazed for you and you alone. You may have other by your side for brief moments, but at the end of the road, you are the only one who can open the gates that will lead you home.

“A man is marked by what is found inside of his heart, Ronald Weasley,” Seraphine said as she looked back up at him. Her eyes were suddenly more piercing than before, and her voice had found a powerful solidity. “That is the only thing that truly defines him. Destiny does not wait for your insecurities. If you do not admit who you are in time, the moment will pass you by, and you will be left with nothing to live for.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Ron demanded. How could she possibly know? And was he certain he understood her clearly? Seraphine smiled coyly at him, a wicked blue fire dancing in her eyes.

“Because the War needs you.”

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but a blast of wind knocked him off his balance. When it died down and he had righted himself, all that was left in he wake of the beautiful Sage, its tip buried deep into the lush grass, was his sword.

18. Corruption

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: The chapters are going to be short and sweet until I get over my writers block. Things are about to get really intense, and I can’t wait to share them with you, but first I have to build that bridge between what I’ve already written and what I plan to write. Please bare with me; I promise not to disappoint you! Reviews will help A LOT. Go ahead and guess what will happen in the future; maybe you’ll spark an idea. I need help!!!

Chapter Seventeen

Corruption

“Take him away,” The woman begged. He could not see her face, could not see anything but the blinding white of the room around him. He could sense the horror in the people he knew were around him, however, and his infant mouth opened to emit a wail. He felt strong arms holding him, but they were not the ones he wanted to be in. He writhed in the iron hold of the unwanted person, squirming and crying, desperately trying to find her face. ‘Give me to her!’ he thought. He tried to voice his plea, but the only sounds that came from him were that of his frantic sobs.

“Take him away!” He heard her shout. Her voice was music to his ears, but the words she uttered broke his heart. Something was going dreadfully wrong. He began to cry harder.

“But ma’am...” The man holding him protested, not sure what to say to the hysteric woman.

“Relieve me of him! Do not let me look upon his face!” She screamed, her voice growing shrill with desperation. “He is spawn of the Devil himself! Do not let me look at him! Take him away!”

‘No, no,’ he thought ruefully. ‘Love me, Mother, please, love me, please...’

But the doctor was carrying him away from his raving mother before she exhausted herself from screaming. “I know exactly what to do with you,” he heard the man holding him whisper to his newborn ears as he whimpered, his infant heart already broken by the evil of rejection....

Years flashed before his eyes in the breadth of a second. Women, children, even grown men avoided him whenever possible, for not only was he hideous to look upon, strange things happened when he was around. Entire walls would evaporate into thin air, pitchers of water would float around the room, and the voices...they haunted him in both his waking and sleeping hours. Several times he attempted to dig them out of his ears with a knife, but someone always prevented him. His only comfort was the old and bitter blind woman whom the doctor had sent him to upon his birth. He had loved her with all his heart for taking him in, but on the day that marked his eleventh year, he had awoken with an insatiable lust to kill. He had crept into her room before the sun was up and had gazed upon her sleeping form. He hated her for trying to replace the mother who had forsaken him, hated her for loving him only because she could not see his disfigured face and unearthly eyes as the others could, hated her for not being able to answer his questions about the incurable run of bad luck the followed him wherever he went. With tears in his eyes and a raging fire of pain in his heart, he placed his pillow over her face and pushed all his weight into it.

He remembered crouching in a dark corner shortly after suffocating the woman, knees pulled up to his chest and rocking back and forth as silent tears made their way down his mottled cheeks. He stared at her limp body, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest smothered forever by none other than him. The voices began to speak to him again, but this time, he did not recognize the speaker.

“Cousin,” It said in a calm and high voice that made him shiver. “It is time you reclaim the birthright your mother denied you eleven years ago. It is time you know who and what you are.”

“Who are you?” He whispered into the shadows, his voice shattered both by curiosity and fear.

“I am your last living relative. You are destined for power beyond your wildest imagination, but only if you chose to follow me. There is nothing left for you here, cousin. Come with me, and you will never be scorned again. They will have no choice to love you. Power, dear cousin. Will you say no to your destiny?”

A young man materialized in front of him. His smooth, handsome features were welcoming, and yet he could sense an intense power emanating from him. He smiled gently down at the younger boy and held out a pale hand. Hesitantly, he reached up and placed his smaller hand in the palm of Tom Riddle’s. Suddenly, Tom’s eyes turned red, and he was no longer handsome. Damien’s instinct was to recoil, until he realized that he looked no better than Tom.

“It is time,” His cousin said in a shrill, unholy voice. Damien felt himself stand and nod. IT was time to start the ball in motion....

“My Lord? My Lord!” There was a banging on the door. Damien’s yellow eyes snapped open. Perturbed, he climbed out of bed and went to answer the intruder of his dreams, not even bothering to put his robe on to cover his naked body. He yanked at the handle and the door swung violently open.

“What is it?” He demanded of the courier.

The messenger stumbled over his words for a moment, not sure what to say to Damien answering his urgent knocks in such an unseemly matter. He knew it was not wise to keep the sorcerer waiting, especially when he had just woken up, however. He blinked and straightened himself, catching his tongue and taking a deep breath.

“It’s Potter’s wife, my Lord. She’s with child.”

A sick smile spread over Damien’s lips, twisting his face even more than it already was. “Excellent,” he breathed. “Ready our troops. We march tomorrow at dawn.”

“Yes sir,” The courier said promptly, then turned on his heel and hurried down the corridor. Happier than he had been in ages, Damien retreated back into his quarters. He needed to think and pack and ready for the battle. He was holding all the cards now. He would deliver Harry Potter to his cousin like a stuffed pig.

‘Your efforts were valiant, Luna, I’ll admit,’ He thought as he pulled on a pair of trousers. ‘But love will destroy the Few even with your talents.’

Fully dressed and smiling broadly, Damien left his rooms and broke into a brisk walk down the hallway. There was someone he needed to speak with.

19. The Spell Caster

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: I’m sorry to say that in a week’s time, I will be headed off to Huntsville, Alabama for two weeks for Aviation Camp, and then 6 hours after I return on the 29th, I leave for North Carolina for a week. Needless to say, I won’t be updating for a while, but I promise to brainstorm and start again as soon as I get back! I’ll try to get Chapter Nineteen up before I go, but no promises. Have a safe and wonderful summer, and keep reviewing! You guys rock my world!

Chapter Eighteen

The Spell Caster

Hermione stared intently through the iron bars that served as their singular window to the outside world, watching as the guard retreated from their cell. Draco sat in a corner, watching Hermione with as much intensity as she was watching the guard. Hermione had ordered him to be completely silent for the next five minutes, and as he was a spy, silent was something he excelled at being. He watched in confusion as she turned her ear to the door, as if listening for a faint noise. Slowly, a satisfied smile spread over her face. She stood and turned to face Draco, and he took in her latest appearance.

They had been imprisoned together for at least a week, and when two people are confined to closed quarters for an extended period of time, they begin to learn things about each other that they had never before known. Draco had known beforehand that Mrs. Potter had an amazingly toned midriff, courtesy of her countless lessons in combat. But in their week together, he had begun to notice that Hermione’s stomach had acquired a bit of a curve to it. He remembered Ginny being pregnant with the twins three--almost four, now--years ago, and he would bet his wand that she didn’t begin to show after only a week or two, for Harry and Hermione hadn’t even been married for a month. Granted, Draco had an inkling that they hadn’t waited until they were married, but still...something about Hermione’s pregnancy didn’t seem right, didn’t seem...possible. When the guards had noticed Hermione’s morning sickness and belly bulge, they had interrogated her, and she had admitted that she was with child. They had bought the story, but Draco was an expert at identifying lies as well as telling them. Hermione did not have him convinced.

“Am I allowed to speak now?” He asked dryly, his mind still stuck on his suspicions of what she was up to. Hermione nodded. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about, then?”

She beamed and began to pace. Her voice was quiet but excited as she explained. “I placed a Charm on him that allows me to hear whatever’s going on wherever he goes. All he has to do is set foot in a room once, and I’ll know what everyone is saying for at least six hours after he leaves.”

“That’s some pretty powerful magic,” Draco said softly, raising his eyebrows slightly to give off the impression that he was either impressed or skeptical. Hermione couldn’t tell which. She glanced at the look on his face, and the smile slowly evaporated from her face. Her hands wandered to her swollen stomach and she locked hesitant eyes with her cellmate.

“Yes, well, I found a lot of handy things like that in books in the library...and since the War began, I figured that a couple of them would be useful...”

“But a Charm that doesn’t take the use of a word or a wand?” Draco got to his feet and strode over to Hermione, whose eyes were darting back and forth nervously as she searched his face. “I knew you were powerful, but I apparently underestimated you.” He glanced down at her stomach, then back into her large brown eyes. “Why didn’t you tell Harry you were pregnant? You must’ve known for at least two months now. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Hermione’s lips parted and Draco watched as the color slowly drained from her face. He had struck a nerve, he knew it. She looked away from him, her eyes searching the cold stone floor for answers. When she didn’t find them, she looked back to Draco. She took a deep breath as she began to reach into her robes. Draco made sure that his iron hold on her eyes never wavered. She held her hands out, palm up, and bowed her head. She knew she shouldn’t indulge him with the information she was about to give, but she had no other choice. If she didn’t, he would figure it out on his own, and they were each other’s only allies at the moment.

“I...haven’t been...completely honest with you...anyone, for that matter,” She said quietly, slowly, as she looked at her empty upturned hands. She felt his steely gray eyes shift to her hands. With another deep breath, she closed her eyes and gently coaxed it to reappear in her palms. Hermione felt her hands sink slightly from the return of the familiar weight of the object. Opening her eyes, she gazed fondly down at the elegant ebony wand, then looked back to Draco. He was still staring at the newly appeared wand, brow furrowed and mouth drawn. Bemused, he met Hermione’s gaze. She smirked wryly.

“Meet my not-so-mild-mannered alter ego.”

“What does it mean?” Draco couldn’t make himself even begin to understand what was going on here. Apparently, he had been wrong about Hermione. Very, very wrong.

“I’m the Spell Caster, Draco.”

~*~*~*~*~

An hour later, Draco sat cross-legged on the floor, chin in his hands, staring up at Hermione as she paced their cell. She twirled her unusual wand absently between her fingers, not making eye contact with Draco as he took in all she had told him. After all this time, the Spell Caster had been literally standing right in front of them.

“The wand gives me incredible powers,” she had told him. “I can perform any Spell or Charm by only thinking about it hard enough. It protects my identity and allows me to be an anonymous Animagus when I Transfigure. I can use Ancient magics that don’t exist even in your wildest dreams. I can create Potions for almost anything. I have my restrictions, yes. I have yet to figure them all out, though.”

“What kind of restrictions?” Draco had asked.

“Well, if it simply can’t be done with a normal wand, I certainly can’t do it. Like I couldn’t block Avada kedavra if it were sent my way, and I can’t walk through walls or fly just with a flick of the tip. A lot of what I know I derived from ancient Greece, Rome, Egypt and China. I fused some Spells together with a handy Charm I discovered called a Thread. I can’t defy most of the laws of magic. Like right now there are heavy anti-Apparation and Disapparation spells around this base, so naturally I can’t poof about at will. But like right now I have a Silencing Spell on the walls so anyone trying to listen in can’t. It’s complicated, and I haven’t worked out all the bugs just yet, but--”

“But you’ve saved our arses hundreds of times,” Draco interjected before she could finish. But that had been fifteen minutes ago. Now that he had been given time to digest everything, Draco had questions he needed to have answered.

“So...if you can do any kind of magic, dating all the way back to the beginning of time until now, why are we still in this cell? I’m a spy, you’re...you’re...you’re the Spell Caster, Hermione. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? We could be back at Hogwarts right now, we could’ve destroyed Damien and this stupid base, and the War would be ours! What’re you waiting for?!”

Hermione stopped pacing and covered her mouth with her hands. Draco could see, even from the side, the concentration brewing behind her large brown eyes. She was still withholding something from him, he could tell. He watched her patiently as she deliberated with herself. Finally, she sat down next to him. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her fingers sliding deftly over the ebony wand and it’s black opal handle.

“You don’t just find a wand like this, Draco,” she said softly as she stared at her treasure. “It isn’t some ancient relic or something you could find in a store. Any store, for that matter. It was made for me and me alone, and I was given it for a special reason. Just like you and your sword.”

“What about my sword?” He instantly asked, and Hermione sighed again. She gave her wand a flick and the air pressure around them suddenly intensified. Draco felt his ears pop and an unexpected weight in his lap. As cell stabilized itself, he looked down at his sword. Damien had had it confiscated when he had been captured, and seeing it again elated him. He had been afraid that perhaps it had been destroyed. He dared not ask Hermione what she had done to get it back. Some things were best left alone, and transporting solid objects through stone walls in a matter of seconds was one of them.

“Your sword was crafted uniquely for you,” she began in a hushed voice, so quiet that Draco had to lean in to hear her. “As was my wand. The few details I know are too sketchy, and as much as I’d like to tell you, the secret is precious to us right now. It could change the fate of the world, and I don’t fully trust my Silencing Spell. No one could possibly infiltrate it, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” Carefully, so as not to bump her belly, she got to her feet. Watching her, Draco was prompted to ask another question.

“You aren’t really pregnant, are you?”

Hermione’s shoulders slumped. “No. It’s a guise to trick Damien into kick starting the Final Battle.” She turned again and looked down at Draco, eyes filled with fire. “I told you we’d get out of here and take them down from the inside, and that’s what I intend to do. Ron and Luna are still on their way, I’m certain of it. They should be arriving in three days at the most, and we need to have them distracted so Luna can work her magic and get them in here. My pregnancy is the perfect rouse. When I told you I’m an anonymous Animagus, I failed to mention that I can transform myself as well. All it took was a little stretching of the skin.” She looked down at Draco triumphantly, as if her plan was fool proof, but Draco’s heart had jumped into his throat when he had heard her plan.

“If Damien thinks you’re expecting, he’ll use it against Harry to either lure him here or attack Hogwarts head-on,” He whispered, thinking only of his family. Suddenly, he felt scared. The last time he remembered being scared was the day Ginny had the twins. He felt his hands wrap around his sword hilt. Hadn’t Hermione thought her plan through that thoroughly? How could she overlook such an obvious and important side effect?

It took Draco a moment to recognize that her face had gone from victorious to apologetic. As she looked down at him on the floor, mouth drawn and eyes sad, she shook her head and said, “I’m sorry, Draco. Not even the Spell Caster can change what Fate has in store.”

~*~*~*~*~

Harry was woken by a sharp rapping on his window. He didn’t sleep soundly without Hermione by his side, so it didn’t take the noise long to reach his ears. Groggy, he opened the window and the tawny barn owl swooped in, dropped a small piece of parchment, and flew back out the window. Harry caught the tattered letter as it floated lazily down to the floor. Adjusting his glasses, he looked at it and instantly recognized the handwriting of the mysterious Spell Caster.

‘Be prepared. Do not act rashly. Do not believe everything you hear. Your loved ones are safe, and you will be reunited with them shortly. Have faith, Harry Potter. This War is soon to end.’

20. The Truth By Way of Fire Whiskey

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: This is it for a whole three weeks, and if I don’t get tons of amazing reviews, I might just have to end it with this chapter. Recommend it to your friends and your friends’ friends. 25 days from now, I expect to come back and see a million reviews, because I wrote this chapter especially for you guys!

Chapter Nineteen

The Truth, By Way of Fire Whiskey

After Seraphine had left, Ron had sat in the tall grass for a while, watching his sword sway ever so slightly with the wind, his mind lost in thought. He remembered the way he had felt as he had watched that sunset from Hogwarts, two days before Harry and Hermione had married. The premonitions were back, stronger than before, warning him of the unknown dangers that lay ahead. How did that night seem so long ago, as if an eon had passed from then to now, when in all actuality it had only been about two weeks?

So much had happened in that short time span. Luna, Draco, Lucius, Damien, Hermione, Isabella, and now Seraphine, each playing a vital role that could change the very outcome of the War. With a heavy heart he looked northeast and shading his eyes against the sun, looked past the forested mountain they had come down from to find the faint gray outlines of the taller, snow-capped peaks waiting about four days in the distance. What would they find when they reached the base? Were Draco and Hermione safe? Would there be an ambush waiting? Would Luna follow or fall through with the plan of getting them all out? And where the hell was this town Luna had spoken about? They could use with a few new supplies.

Ron heard a scream. Startled, he glanced around and realized it was coming from the cottage. Instantly he was on his feet, ripping his sword out of the ground and running to Luna. His heart beat fast as he burst through the door, afraid of what he was going to find. He looked around and saw no one. There was another scream, and it came from behind the closed door that led to the bedroom. In two steps, Ron had crossed the room and was flinging open the door, muscles tensed and ready to fight whoever was distressing Luna, but there was no one there.

Ron blinked, confused, and then a flurry of movement caught his eye. He turned to face the bed, crouching into a fighter’s stance, only to find Luna thrashing around under the sheets. He blinked again and watched her. She was clearly having a bad dream; her face was screwed up in agony, she turned back and forth, and her arms flailed around her. She screamed again, and Ron saw this time that she was even crying.

“I didn’t murder him!” She wailed, her voice frantic and desperate. “I didn’t murder him! No... no...NO! Daddy, NO!!”

Ron wasn’t aware that his sword had fallen from his hand to the floor. He dropped to his knees beside the bed and shook Luna’s shoulder. “Luna, Luna, wake up,” He urged, understanding what she was dreaming of and how she felt. He often woke up late at night, soaked in sweat and heart racing, when he dreamt about his own first kill. “Luna, you’re dreaming, it’s only a dream, Luna, WAKE UP!”

Her eyes snapped open and Ron breathed a sigh of relief. He saw Luna’s hand move, but didn’t realize what was going on until the razor sharp edge of her sword was pressed menacingly against the side of his neck. Luna had been keeping it under the pillow and was now rolled onto her side, her eyes wide and wild, her wrist ready to flick the blade and decapitate him if she thought him a threat.

“Luna...it’s me...it’s Ron...” He said slowly, careful not to move so he didn’t upset her and lose his head. He watched as comprehension dawned on her. She exhaled heavily and forced herself to roll on her back where she silently laid spread-eagled, sword forgotten in her right hand, eyes wide and chest heaving. Ron watched her for an intense, wary moment, making sure that if he moved she wouldn’t attack him. When he was certain she was awake, he moved from the floor to the bed. He sat carefully down next to her and watched her as she regained her composure. Her eyes flicked over to him.

“They...they usually keep him out of...my dreams,” She gasped. She kept her face turned towards him, but her eyes suddenly acquired a far off, lost quality to them. She stayed like that for a moment, deep in thought, and then focused on him again. “We should go. We need to keep moving if we want to get to Damien on time.”

“Why so soon?” He asked. With a groan, Luna sat up, leaving her sword discarded next to her. Ron tried very hard not to trace her slender outline with his eyes and failed, especially when she arched her back to stretch.

“Because we lost three days while you slept and recovered.” She said without looking at him. “And because this cottage was my mother’s and makes me uneasy. We’ll go to town for supplies and then be on our way. If we lose much more time, we’ll be compromising Draco and Hermione.”

Without even a simple glance his way, Luna got to her feet and went to the corner to pack her things. Ron watched her buckle on her belt, strap her sword, tug on her cloak and heave her bag onto her shoulders. She went to the dresser to collect her wand and stuck in behind her ear for safekeeping, then left the room. She closed the door behind her, leaving a very lonely Ron alone on the bed, wondering what to do next.

~*~*~*~*~

Luna personally knew one of the women who ran the desks at the entrance of the small town and got them through the magic barrier without questions. She found the supply store and Ron placed an order with the wizard who ran it for the things they needed. The storeowner agreed to have the supplies shipped to the front gate for them, but since he was waiting for his own shipment of supplies, and since half of what they needed was in that shipment, they would be forced to wait until morning. There was an awkward silence between them as they left the shop. They had a whole evening to kill before they were ready to leave. Luna, her mind still reeling from her nightmare, spotted a cozy looking pub.

“I need a drink,” She informed Ron, and then started off for the door. Deciding he could also do with a drink, Ron followed her inside. They seated themselves at a circular table for two in a corner and waited for the waitress to take their orders.

“Make it a double Gillywater, sour,” Luna said to their buxom brunette waitress when she came over to their table. The witch jotted it down and turned to Ron, her chocolate eyes twinkling as she looked at him. Ron didn’t notice her interest; he was too busy watching Luna, whose head was in her hands.

“Fire Whiskey,” He said without looking up. He missed her plump mouth turn into a pretty pout as she took his order and walked away. They sat in silence until their drinks came, Luna still not looking at Ron and Ron intent on nothing but Luna. When the waitress set their glasses down in front of them, Luna attacked hers with a ferocity Ron never knew she harbored. Ron reached for his Fire Whiskey and took a sip, watching Luna as she threw her head back and drained the entire Gillywater. She slammed it down on the table when she had finished, folded her arms across the table, rested her chin on them, and looked at Ron for the first time since he had interrupted her dream.

“What’re you in this for, Ronald?” She asked him suddenly. Ron raised an eyebrow at her and took a larger swig from his Fire Whiskey, oblivious to the searing heat that rolled down his throat. Considering all he knew about her, he figured he owed it to her to tell her his story.

Ron set down his half-finished Fire Whiskey and flagged down their waitress. She sauntered over to him, eyes alight at finally having his attention. “Can I help you, sir?” She asked sweetly. Ron nodded and indicated his glass.

“I’m going to need a few more of those, if you please.”

~*~*~*~*~

“I guess it all started four years ago, the day the War began,” Ron said slowly, looking down into his second glass of Fire Whiskey, his eyes distant as he remembered it. “Death Eaters swarmed the castle...you should remember; it was during the school year. Harry, Hermione, Draco and Ginny were off fighting them. I had gone back to Gryffindor tower for my sword--I had found it that very morning--so I could fight. I remember climbing through the portrait hole to return to the fighting...and that was my downfall.

“My older brother, Percy, was standing in front of me, this odd look in his eyes. Just two years before that, Percy had chosen the Ministry of Magic over us, but that still didn’t explain what he was doing back at Hogwarts. I asked him, said ‘Percy, what are you doing here? What’s going on, what’s with all the Death Eaters, is everything okay, are Mum and Dad and everyone okay, what the hell are you doing here?’ He got this twisted smile on his face and lifted his wand, and I still didn’t understand. I forget what hex he sent my way, but I dodged it and hexed him back. We dueled back and forth like that for about ten minutes until he sent one my way that knocked me onto the floor. He came closer to me...I sometimes get nightmares about this part...he came over to me and lifted his wand and said, ‘Avad--’ and as soon as I realized what was going to happen if I didn’t react, I remembered I had my sword, so I grabbed it, closed my eyes, and swung. There was this terrible sound, and I felt blood on my face. I opened my eyes in time to see his top half slide off of his bottom one. I think I was almost sick, but I ran over to him anyway, took his head in my arms. He was still slightly alive...the look he had in his eyes haunts my dreams to this day. His face was all pale, and he looked at me and said...he said, ‘Ron...Imperious Curse...Bellatrix Lestrange...protect Harry...’” Ron stopped, shook his head, and drained his entire second glass of Fire Whiskey in one gulp. He felt the burn in his throat, but there was nothing behind his eyes. He had shed so many tears over Percy’s death in the past four years that it was impossible for him to cry for his brother any more. He reached for his third glass. “He died right there in my arms. Bellatrix assassinated Fudge and used Percy to get to me. She figured I would end up leading him to Harry, but Percy...he fought the Curse. He couldn’t speak to me, so he dueled me instead, lured me into killing him so Harry would survive that night.

“After that, Bellatrix took out my mother and father and two more of my brothers. The day George died, I swore I would someday kill that bitch and avenge their deaths. I also swore that, as reconciliation for Percy’s death, I would do as he asked and protect Harry until the day that I die. Once Harry asked me to help started ARMED, I grew used to protecting people and vowed to spend the rest of my life making sure we won this war and that no one else should have to suffer the losses that people like Harry and you and I have.” He shook his head again and threw back another shot, then hailed the waitress for another two glasses. She brought them, her expression impressed at his ability to hold down such strong liquor. Luna contemplated Ron with serious eyes as he picked up his next glass and swirled around the liquid inside. He had something on his mind.

“You meet so many people when you spend your life saving others’,” He said quietly, still not downing the whiskey. “So many people...and even though you try your best, you can’t save everyone every time. It’s a lonely job, being the hero. I finally understand how Harry feels, I guess. I don’t want to be the hero...I just want to see my nieces grow up at the proper pace. I want to see the world happy again. I want to be happy again. ” He smirked. “You know, all my life I’ve always been slightly jealous of Harry, but now we’re equal. We’re both orphans, we’re both heroes, neither one of us has more money than the other, and yet...he’s still happier than I am. Probably always will be, too. Harry’s a good leader and he loves his people, but he doesn’t meet nearly as many of them as I do. He’s allowed to feel things, allowed to be attached. Look at him and Hermione. So happy, even against the odds...” He grew silent for a moment, then shrugged and drank half the glass.

“I think you’ve had enough, Ronald,” Luna said softly. Ron heard her and set his glass down with a smirk.

“You’re probably right,” He admitted. There was a warm buzzing in his head, but he knew it would take about two more glasses to do him in. Either way, if he didn’t stop he’s probably keep at it until he passed out, and a hangover wouldn’t be a good way to start tomorrow. He flagged down the waitress once more. It took him a bit of concentration to keep the slur out of his voice, but he was able to successfully ask her where they could find a place to room for the night. The brunette shot an evil look at Luna before telling Ron they had a few rooms open upstairs. Ron thanked her, then set enough money on the table to cover the drinks, the tip and the room. He got to his feet, swaying slightly, then looked at Luna. She was staring at him with an odd look on her face. He felt sure that he had seen that expression on her before, but he was having a hard time remembering where and when.

“Ready to turn in for the night, Luna?” He asked with a yawn, not sure why she was sitting there looking at him like she was.

Luna blinked and snapped out of it. Smiling, she got to her feet and followed Ron up a flight of creaky wooden stairs at the other end of the pub. They traversed an equally creaky and wooden landing until they came to door number three. Ron pushed it open and stepped out of the way for Luna. She smiled and walked in, followed by a slightly tipsy Ron. He closed the door and dropped his gear, looking around the small room. It wasn’t nearly as elegant as the last room they had lodged in. The furniture consisted of a bed, an armchair, a dresser and a bedside stand with a vase on it. There was a fireplace across from the bed, a threadbare rug covering the floor, and three wall sconces that were filled with a dull magic fire. There was one other door that led to the washroom, and Luna made a beeline for it as soon as she had discarded her things. Ron settled into the armchair and stared into the fire. He heard Luna start the shower and he couldn’t help but smile. He had come to enjoy her company and her small womanly habits.

He must’ve dozed in the chair as he waited for her to finish, for the next thing he remembered was the washroom door opening. His eyes opened, and the first and only thing he saw was Luna. She was standing there in the exact same outfit she had worn to bed the night they had got the news Draco had been captured. Her long blonde hair hung like a halo around her head. Ron’s heart picked up as he let his eyes follow her across the room as she went to get her brush out of her pack. Sitting delicately on the bed, she ran the soft bristles through her hair until it shone like gold. Even caught in such a simple act, she still looked like an angel to him. When she had finished, she set the brush on the stand and turned to face Ron, who was still staring at her. Blushing, he looked away.

“Goodnight, Luna,” He said, feigning a yawn and closing his eyes. An odd feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he was being watched, and even though he knew it was Luna, he opened his eyes out of instinct. Luna was standing in front of the chair, hands on her hips, face glowing from the light of the fire. She had that look on her face again, the one Ron couldn’t place because of the Fire Whiskey in him. Just looking at her looking at him gave him goose bumps.

“What’re you in this for, Ronald?” She asked again, softly and seriously at the same time, as if

she had caught him in the act of something and was giving him the opportunity to confess.

Seraphine’s words from earlier echoed in his head as he searched for a valid answer. “Destiny does not wait for your insecurities. If you do not admit who you are in time, the moment will pass you by, and you will be left with nothing to live for.” Ron had lied to Luna once already that day. Would he risk doing it again?

Making up his mind, Ron slowly got to his feet and took a step towards Luna. She glared defiantly up into his eyes as if she were preparing herself to be let down again by pretending not to care what his answer may be. Maybe it was the Fire Whiskey taking control, but Ron didn’t intend to let her down.

He took her face in both of his hands and kissed her slowly, gently on her lips. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers and looked at her. He never grew tired of just looking at her, no matter how memorized her features were to him.

“I love you,” He said softly, holding her eyes with his own. Her expression softened, her eyes growing wide and her mouth falling slightly open. It was as if she was daring herself to believe him. Her silence made him uneasy; had he just made a grave mistake in admitting that to her? Had he actually read all the signals wrong? He was about to pull away and blame that outburst on the Fire Whiskey when Luna threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with a demanding, hungry passion. It took Ron a moment to realize what she was telling him, but as soon as he understood, he began kissing her back with the same fervor. She pressed herself closer to him and he tightened his hold on her. He felt her heart beating against his chest, racing just as fast as his was. A gust of wind swirled through the room, snuffing out every light except the one in the fireplace. It lingered on their entwined bodies as Ron bent down and lifted Luna into his arms. She kissed his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks and his neck as he maneuvered them over to the bed. She willed the wind to leave the room and give them some privacy as he set her down gently on the bed with a lingering, sweet kiss. Once Luna was sure it had gone, she wrapped her arms around his neck again and pulled him down with her.

Note: Please don’t kill me for ending there! I reallyreallyreallyreallyREALLY hope you liked it!! Have a good summer; I’ll see you in August!

21. The Beginning of the End

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: I’ve been dying to get this chapter to you guys! So much has happened since I left.... Thank you all for reviewing! They were a very pleasant surprise to come home to, and each and every single one of them made me smile. This chapter is dedicated to all of you who, despite any and everything in HBP, still have faith for R/L and H/Hr. Glory to thy ship, and on with the chapter!

Chapter Twenty

The Beginning of the End

Ron’s internal alarm clock told him it was time to get up. His eyes landed on the window as soon as he opened them. Judging by how the sky was slowly losing its darkness, he assumed it was about four in the morning. With an unhappy sigh, he let his head fall back on the pillow and closed his eyes. He had been having the most wonderful dream; why did he have to wake up so soon? He lay there and listened to the early morning noises before he realized his arms were wrapped around something. Blinking, he looked down at the blonde nestled comfortably next to him, her head resting on his shoulder, a contended smile on her sleeping face. The sheet they were wrapped up in covered everything but her shoulders, which happened to be bare. Ron blinked again, thoroughly confused. Had his dream about spending the night making love to Luna actually been real?

Slowly, he began to remember the events that had led up to the previous night. Yes...yes, all of it had really happened. He had actually admitted that he loved her, and to his utter astonishment, she loved him back. Relieved that he hadn’t been only dreaming, Ron looked back out the window. As much as he wanted to stay there all day with her, they had to get up and going. Time didn’t wait for love, and now was no exception. Happier than he had been in years, Ron leaned over and kissed Luna lightly on her lips until she woke up.

“Mmm,” She protested, eyes still closed. She smiled and kissed Ron back. Now that she was awake, Ron shifted himself so that he could reach her easier and began to kiss her neck. Luna giggled. “Stop it, Ron,” She said with a yawn, but Ron didn’t listen. He moved again so that he was straddling her and pressed his lips to the hollow of her neck. She sighed and ran her fingers through his hair. Her arms went around his neck as he came up and kissed her fully on her mouth again, prying her lips apart with his tongue. Luna kissed him back, and as she did she made a little sound that almost made Ron forget their mission and how they had to leave soon. Begrudgingly, Ron pulled away.

“Good morning, beautiful,” He whispered, then kissed her briefly on her nose. “I hate to say it, but we have to get going. The sooner we get Hermione and Draco, the better.”

“Mmm,” Luna said again, in agreement this time. She finally opened her eyes and smiled at Ron. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t seem to find any words. Instead, he smiled back, gave her a quick peck, and then rolled off of her. He watched, transfixed, as Luna stretched and sat up. She turned away from Ron so all he could see was her back, and it was a beautiful back indeed. Sighing, he tore his eyes away from Luna and looked around for his trousers. He found them a few feet away from the bed and slipped into them. His shirt, however, was on the other side of the room, which meant he had to cross over to Luna’s side. Hiding a smile, he went to find it. When he did, he picked it up and stood up in time to catch Luna adjusting her brassiere, then pulling her shirt on over it. She dressed in front of him with the same confidence and familiarity about her that she had had when she had been undressed in front of him. Her assured demeanor captivated him and without even noticing, he paused with his shirt in his hands, his eyes following every movement she made. His heart picked up when she turned away from him and bound her hair into an elastic. The golden cascade gathered like water in her hands and Ron suddenly remembered how silky it had been when he had ran his own fingers through it. Blinking, he returned from his reverie and went back to dressing. Thoughts like that would certainly lead to other things, and there was more to think about at the moment than their personal wants.

Luna knew Ron was watching her as she dressed for the road. Her heart did somersaults when she thought about how enamored with her he was. But she understood that duty came first and dismissed the churning sensations in her stomach. Try as she might, however, she couldn’t cast scenes from the previous night out of her mind.

It felt so strange to be loved again, to be able to return the affection with her entire being. After her mother’s death, she had been nothing to her father but a constant reminder of a marriage lost prematurely, and though she had loved him despite his conditions, she had still taken his life. When she had been captured by Lucius and sent to Damien, he had tried to seduce her on many occasions, but she had made sure not to fall prey to it. She was nothing but a pawn to him, and he wanted nothing more than to use her gifts to alter the War. Yes, she had had friends like Ginny, Neville and Harry during her school years, but even they had thought her odd. For more than a decade she had suffered from loneliness, had been parched of affection and denied attachment, and now, in a whirlwind of incidents, she had found a true friend, a companion, and a lover in none other than Ronald Weasley. She blushed at that and tried to hide her girlish grin as she donned her cloak. There was no doubt in her mind that he was the one for her, but Luna liked tradition and wanted to wait and see if Ron felt the same way before mentioning anything to him. But there were more important tasks to attend to first.

They stopped by the gate to pick up their supplies as the dusky sky began to lighten, promising a breathtaking sunrise in an hour. It was obvious by now that they weren’t going to stop in Bulgaria; they couldn’t spare the delay, and they had enough supplies as it was to make it to the fortress. Ron decided that horses would make a good means of transportation and tracked down and purchased one for each of them in a matter of twenty minutes; a strawberry mare with a white mane and tail for Luna, and a spirited chestnut gelding for Ron.

They left the small town and headed back to the forested mountain. From the corner of his eye, Ron saw Luna tense as they took a horse trail and entered the woods. He understood her anxiety; Isabella’s body was somewhere in here, a reminder that their lives, as well as the sake of the mission, had almost been lost to the hands of jealousy and lust. He leaned across the gap between them and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Luna smiled without looking at him and relaxed herself.

A comfortable, contented silence fell between them until noon, when a violent, passing thunderstorm forced them to reside temporarily in a cave. Ron started a fire while Luna tied up and soothed their steeds. When she had succeeded to quiet them, she went to the fire, crouching down and warming her hands before it. Ron watched her silently from across the flames, noting the serious look in her protuberant eyes.

“Do you think they’re okay?” She asked quietly without looking up. “Do you think we’ve taken too long in reaching them?” She raised her eyes to his now, worry clouding their normally crystal blue. “Ron...what do we do if we’re too late? How could we explain that to Harry?”

Ron thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. He had thought the same thing not an hour ago, but he couldn’t tell Luna some of the conclusions he had come to. With a reassuring smile, he got to his feet and went over to her. Taking a seat beside Luna and draping his arm over her shoulders, he pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” He said softly and, to his surprise, sincerely. “They’re too important for Damien to kill. He needs them to lure Harry. And all our delays couldn’t be helped, but that’s how field assignments are. Some days you win, some days you don’t. It’s that simple.”

Luna nodded slowly against his shoulder, then looked up at him, the concern still in her eyes. “Do you think we’ll be able to rescue them?” She whispered, her voice hinting at desperation and even fear. Ron thought for a moment and then gave her the most honest answer he could.

“That’s not my place to decide, Luna,” He admitted, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her face. “What happens at the fortress is up to you.”

~*~*~*~*~

‘Be prepared. Do not act rashly. Do not believe everything you hear. Your loved ones are safe, and you will be reunited with them shortly. Have faith, Harry Potter. This War is soon to end.’

Harry held the Spell Caster’s last letter in his left hand, but his attention was focused on the scroll in his right.

‘Harry Potter,

It has come to our attention that one of our captives has been found pregnant. We thought that, as she is your wife, you would wish to be informed of this change of status in your family. Best wishes.’

Enraged, Harry clenched his fist, thus crumpling the letter. He assumed the Spell Caster had known about Hermione’s pregnancy and had decided to get to him before Damien. “Do not believe everything you hear.” What was that supposed to mean? “Do not act rashly.” Now some unknown witch or wizard was trying to tell him how to live his life and protect his family?

He raised his eyes to the window; He couldn’t sit here any longer and let all of this pass by. Something was going to go wrong out there, something worse than everything that had already happened...and he certainly couldn’t leave Hermione and their unborn child at the hands of Damien and Lord Voldemort.

There was a knock at the door. Harry turned to find Ginny leaning against the door frame, a knowing look in her vibrant eyes.

“Go to her,” She said softly. “I can hold down the castle if things go wrong. Bring them home safe, Harry. All of them.”

Harry stared at her for a moment. He didn’t want to leave Hogwarts, but he knew Ginny and the rest of the Few were more than capable of handling things if everything went awry. Harry nodded, grabbed his sword and wand, spared another meaningful glance at Ginny, and Disapparated. Ginny closed her eyes when he was gone. A single tear fell from her eye.

“Bring him home safe, Harry.”

~*~*~*~*~

Hermione could feel that something wasn’t right. Gently, she coaxed herself awake and looked around the dark cell. Draco was sleeping in a corner at the other end of the room, his chin rising and falling against his chest, but other than that, they were alone.

‘No,’ She thought, ‘no, there’s someone else here with us...’

“Show yourself,” She ordered the darkness. There was a burst of white light that temporarily blinded her and jolted Draco out of his sleep. The light ebbed away, dimming and diminishing until it pulsed around the outlines of two remarkably beautiful women. Hermione recognized them as two-thirds of the Sages in a heartbeat.

Curly blonde hair hung down the back of the muted Ellanee. At 6’11”, she was clearly the shortest of the sisters. Her all-seeing emerald eyes bore down on Hermione, and she knew that both of these extraordinary women were looking at her through them. Trilithiana contrasted greatly against her sister with her straight black hair and 7 foot frame. Behind the cloud of blindness, Hermione could see that her eyes were once a deep brown, but she made up for what she lacked in sight with speech; her full crimson lips spoke for both she and Ellanee. Like Seraphine, these two were also as pale as ghosts.

“Spell Caster,” Trilithiana said, her sister’s voice mixing with and echoing beneath hers as they both spoke from her mouth. “The end is drawing near. The wheels are in motion. You and the Stealthy One are to prepare yourselves for the Final Battle.”

“Two days from now,” Ellanee said through Trilithiana on her own now, “the fate of the world is to be decided. You have succeeded in contaminating the waters of the enemy, but only the Final Battle has the weight to tip the scales.”

“Ready yourselves,” Trilithiana interrupted. “You will be aided, but you will be outnumbered. Only faith will save you.”

“The fate of the world lies in all your hands now,” They said in unison. “It is up to you to decide who will and who will not survive.”

In another sudden flash of light, they were gone. Hermione could see Draco staring at her from his corner. “What does it mean?” He asked. Hermione sighed. Draco did not know either of the prophecies; the one concerning Harry and Voldemort, or the one that Hermione had recently translated into having to do with Luna.

“It means,” She said slowly, not sure how to word it, “that our destinies are in no one’s hands but ours anymore.”

~*~*~*~*~

“Is this a good idea, cousin?” The silken voice was laced with fear. “Are you certain it will work?” His saffron eyes darted to the lifeless body of the maid on the floor, then to the tall and pale figure standing before him. His cousin and master looked weak and worn, but determined.

“You have aided me so graciously thus far, Damien. Will you not do this last, most important favor for me?” Lord Voldemort’s scarlet eyes stared down at him with as close to a pleading look as he could muster. Damien could not deny him, but he could also not overlook his fears.

“Are you sure the other six were destroyed?” He asked in a faltering voice. He winced as Voldemort’s eyes flashed in rage, but they had cooled in an instant.

“My Death Eaters would die to have been given such a proposition as you have,” He whispered icily. “My only means if survival lies in you, dear cousin. We already share the same blood; my mother was your father’s sister. We can only strengthen our bond this way, and in doing so, we shall be together forever; never again will we go without family as long as you do this simple task for me.”

“Was it necessary to kill her, though?” Damien demanded, gesturing to the maid. “What did she do to deserve such an untimely death?”

Voldemort shrugged. “Sometimes one must die for the good of thousands. Say you will consent, cousin.”

Damien sighed and nodded. Tom looked so weak; if he were to die, Damien would be left utterly alone again. True, he knew Tom was probably incapable of affection and did not love Damien as he claimed, family ties or not; but Damien thought them so alike, and perhaps given time, Tom could learn to see Damien as the brother-like figure Damien had construed him to be since his eleventh birthday.

Voldemort closed his eyes and bowed his head, placing his hands over the spot on his chest where his heart should’ve been located. He began to chant in a foreign tongue that Damien did not understand. He watched as his cousin spun the spell, his voice growing louder and fiercer as he did. The pressure in the room intensified; Damien wanted to look away from Voldemort, but he could not force his eyes away. He watched, regretting his decision, as his cousin raised his head, his thin mouth still chanting. His voice filled the room, shrilly and echoing against the walls of the room, bouncing against the confines of the walls, looking for somewhere to go, begging to infiltrate the ears of any unlucky recipient they could find.

Voldemort’s eyes snapped open and stared into Damien’s. Eyes, they say, are windows to the soul, and Damien could do nothing but watch in horror as he looked through his cousin’s window into his depths. There was not much left of the blackened material that served Voldemort as a soul, but it managed to tear itself in two, and Damien felt the excruciating pain as the new piece attached itself to his own essence. He heard himself scream as he saw the true evil harbored in his cousin and realized it was now part of him as well. A smug look of contentment passed over Voldemort’s face as he watched his naive cousin collapse upon the ground. He turned and swept from the room to make plans for battle, leaving the bodies of his sacrifice and his final Horcrux in his wake.

22. The End of The World As We Know It

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: And so we near the ending. You guys have been amazing and have made my first experience as an Author on Portkey so remarkably memorable. I hope someday soon, “M” and I can provide you with more fics. Half the fun of writing, I think, is getting the feedback, and though you may not know it, you reviewers have written half of this story! There are only two or three chapters left in Unsung Hero, and I just wanted to thank all of you for following this and perfecting the experience. Enjoy the latest chapter!

Chapter Twenty-One

The End of the World As We Know It

Luna grew increasingly quiet during the next two days. Had she been any other woman, Ron would’ve pressed the matter with an endless array of questions: Was she okay? Was it something he had done? Was it anything he could fix? But if Luna were any other woman, he wouldn’t be able to know what was on her mind simply by looking at her face. He kept an eye on her in her silence and noted how her eyes flicked uneasily at the mountains before them as they steadily grew larger with each passing day. He would wake up at night to find her crying softly while she slept uneasily in his arms. When they would stop to rest their horses, he would watch as she went to sit by a tree or a stream and close her eyes, and as she did the wind would pick up around her, as if it was trying to comfort her in ways he could not.

As much as it pained him to see her so distraught, Ron kept his distance from his love at those times. He knew without asking what this change in her mood was about. As they neared the mountains where the fortress lay, he could only begin to imagine the memories that came flooding back and mixed with the foreknowledge that her life had been predicted to end in this upcoming battle. There was no guarantee that there would be bloodshed, but they both had the premonition that their visit to Damien’s would not be a simple matter of search and rescue. He tried to pretend that he didn’t notice the lingering somber looks she cast his way, tried to ignore the tragic message he would find in her blue eyes if he dared to look. “I love you,” they would say, “but I’m doomed to die and will never know happiness with you.” Ron set his jaw and clenched the reins in his hands. Luna would not die when they reached the fortress tomorrow, he would make sure of that.

They reached the base of the snow-capped mountains around noon. Ron stared up at them, not in awe of their majesty, but of the simple matter that this time tomorrow, the entire war might be over. He spotted the path they were to take and cast the Charm that would keep them warm and dry as they passed through it. Without a moment’s hesitation, he urged his mount forward, eager to get Draco and Hermione back to Hogwarts and avoid a battle if they could. The sooner he was back inside the castle walls, safe behind it’s protection charms and spells, the sooner he was back in friendly territory with Luna, the better.

He heard a whinny and looked behind him, confused. Luna’s horse was prancing nervously in place, and Luna herself looked as if she had been hit with a Freezing Charm. The death-grip she held on her reins had rendered her hands white, her face had paled, her misty eyes were wide and unseeing, her lips were so pursed Ron thought she might split them, and her hair blew around her on a wind unfelt by him. He watched her for a moment, understanding her delay, but they had to keep moving. If he let her be overcome with doubt now, she would not make the rest of the journey.

“Luna,” He said quietly. She jumped and looked around at him. She bit her lip and nodded, then fell into place beside him. They rode on in a stiff silence until darkness fell. Luna created a particularly strong gust of wind to clear them a spot in the snow, and Ron cast a Bubble Charm for them to reside in for the night, safe from the bitter cold. After they had successfully started a fire, Ron began to undo his bedroll for the night. Finished, he looked around the fire for Luna. Her complete silence up to this point was beginning to actually worry him. He found her with her back to the fire, arms crossed and staring up at the snow-filled sky, an unreadable look on her face. She felt him staring and looked over her shoulder, and as she did Ron had a clear view of the sadness in her eyes. He felt his heart break in two.

“Come here,” He said gently, standing and holding out his arms. She smirked ruefully and went over to him. Ron gathered her against him as she twined her arms through his and rested her forehead against the hollow of his neck. Lovingly, he kissed the top of her head and pulled her as close as he could possibly get her. He said nothing, but eventually he felt hot tears begin to drip down his chest. He stroked her hair as her tears thickened and her body began to shudder, but still he said nothing. In time, her weeping subsided, but she continued to cling to Ron. Gently, he eased himself away from her and took her face in his hands. Her eyes avoided him.

“Look at me, Luna,” He whispered and she obeyed. Sniffing and biting her lip, she looked up at him, eyes bloodshot and face tear streaked. Consumed by the desire to wash away her grief, he kissed her lightly on her forehead, watched her eyes close when he moved to the tip of her nose, and was awoken by her sigh when he passionately found her mouth. He didn’t need words; he let his kiss tell her everything he needed to say.

“I love you,” She heard him say as he sat on his bedroll and pulled her into his lap. “I’ll protect you forever,” said his hands as they caressed her face and arms. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” declared his lips as he ran them over her neck, jaw line, and eventually, hard and ardently against her mouth.

Suddenly, in a moment of pure and utter passion, their hands found each other’s faces, and as she held on to him she looked deep into his eyes. The fire and snow around them vanished and they knew nothing but each other. Luna didn’t need words or touches or kisses to hear what Ron was telling her as he looked at her in that moment.

“And I will not let you die tomorrow.”

~*~*~*~*~

Ever since Draco’s capture, Ginny had formed a habit of waking before the sun. The night after Harry had left, she found herself being jolted out of sleep even earlier than usual. Carefully, she moved off of the bed and slipped out of the room. Her daughters had taken to sleeping on either side of their mother, and Ginny did not want to wake them. Silently, so as not to disturb anyone in the castle, she made her way to one of the Astronomy towers. Something was wrong. She couldn’t place it, but she could definitely feel it. Shaking back her sheet of red hair, she stepped through the trap door and went over to the parapet. Squinting, she looked out to the horizon. The navy blue of the night was steadily lightening to a pearly gray as the sky yielded to morning’s grace, but Ginny could see nothing in the distance but the usual trees and scenery. With a restless sigh, she turned to go back down into the castle, and in doing so, was nearly knocked over by an extremely excited Neville Longbottom.

“Ginny!” He exclaimed as he bounced away from her.

“Neville?” She demanded, instantly on her guard. The last time she had seen Neville like this, the Death Eaters had captured Hermione. “What is it?”

“I just got word! An army of Death Eaters found the location of Forgotten Valley and broke through the magic barrier. The entire town has been destroyed.”

“Oh my God,” Ginny gasped, one had going to her mouth and the other searching behind her for support from the parapet. Her heart beat wildly beneath her chest. She knew what he was going to say next.

“Ginny,” Neville said slowly, forcing himself to be calm. He could tell that his commotion would not help her any at this moment, and she was currently their commander and needed to have as clear a head as possible at all times. “Ginny, if they’ve found Forgotten Valley, they’ve found the Express, and if they’ve found the Express--”

“They’ve found us,” She whispered in a terrified voice as her eyes wandered in the direction of Forgotten Valley. Neville waited in expectant silence as Ginny composed herself. She was in control of Hogwarts now. Harry was depending on her to keep everyone safe.

“How much time do we have?” She asked Neville, her gaze still trained to the east, where the sun and Death Eaters would soon crest the hills that lay in that direction.

“Approximately three hours,” Neville said. Ginny nodded.

“Wake the castle. Take the children and the elders into Hogsmede through the secret passages. Secure them in the caves there. I want everyone we can get to fight to be ready. I don’t care if they’re even a Muggle. If they’re willing to fight, give them a sword. I want the members of the Few in the Great Hall at once. Send sentries to Forgotten Valley to look for survivors and send any to Hogsmede. We need to prepare. We cannot let the castle fall.”

Neville nodded, turned on his heel, and sped into the castle. Ginny’s hand went back to her mouth and she watched the horizon again. It was painting itself a beautiful shade of burnt orange, but she knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. The Death Eaters were coming for Harry; they thought he would be most vulnerable now that he had learned that Hermione was not only imprisoned in their fortress, but pregnant as well.

“But Harry’s not here,” Ginny told the hills quietly, but firmly all the same. “Harry will take you down from the inside, and you have to deal with me now. And no one takes my husband from me without paying the price.”

She could hear the inhabitants of the castle stirring. Drawing herself up to her full height, Ginny turned and went through the trap door, avoiding all the questions that were being shot at her. She wanted to wake her daughters personally, see them safely out of harm’s way with her own eyes...and then she had to prepare for war.

~*~*~*~*~

“There it is,” Luna said softly the next morning. She had insisted that they wake up for and early start, and Ron knew better than to argue with her on today of all days. Not long after the sun began it’s ascent into the sky they crested a mountain of snow and looked down. The path they were taking wound around to the left, but the road was narrow. It was a straight drop beneath them, and far below, Ron saw it for the first time.

The massive building dominated the expanse of the snowy field it was situated upon. Snow fell around them thickly, but the dark iron of the fortress refused to be lost in the ballet of the white flurries. Ron could see two huge trolls stationed at either side of the main gates, and with the magical eye drops of the Spell Caster to aid him, he was sure he would be able to make out the innumerable Charms, Curses and Spells that had been cast on the stronghold.

Ron turned to Luna, who was staring intently at the tallest tower of the fortress. He didn’t need to ask what she was thinking; he had seen enough of her thoughts to understand the memories that flooded her from that balcony. He waited out her reverie in silence. Finally, she turned to him, a grim look on her face.

“The moment of truth,” Ron said quietly, a sad smile on his face. He trusted and believed that she was not working for the enemy, but his years of training were waging an internal war with his heart. He wanted to follow her in and out of this fort with the utmost faith in her, but he still couldn’t dismiss the twinge in his gut that said he was being led into a trap.

“We ought to leave the horses,” She said decisively, ignoring the frivolity of his last remark. Briskly, she turned to their mounts and cast a spell over them to prevent them from wandering off and keep them warm while they accomplished the mission. Ron watched as she took a deep breath, and then placed her palms together and closed her eyes. He didn’t know whether she was praying or performing some sort of magic, but he knew better than to disrupt her. Looking away so as to giver her full privacy, he adjusted his sword in its sheath and his wand in his belt.

Apprehensively, he ran his fingers through his hair and watched the snowfall. It seemed so long ago when he had told Harry he would prefer it if Luna stayed behind and when Harry had questioned his adamant displeasure at her companionship, Ron had sworn that he had no feelings for her whatsoever. He was a warrior, and warriors had no room for emotions. But for the past week and a half, he had been human again. He had known camaraderie, had known friendship, had understood the meaning of sacrifice, had been a confidant and above all, had discovered love. Now all of a sudden, he was being asked to transform back into the aggressor, to cast all affections aside and once again take up his sword and wand and do battle. He was being asked to kill, that’s what it came down to in the end. He hadn’t taken a life since Isabella, and she had been half dead anyway. He didn’t doubt his ability, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted to walk that path anymore. But he would for today, once more, for Luna.

Luna could hear his thoughts as clearly as her own as she meditated a few yards away. She knew he would try to protect her today and his loyalty to her brought tears to her eyes. She knew he would go to the ends of the earth to ensure her safety, but she also knew that she had sealed her destiny years ago the night she had killed Eric. She had tried to tell him during their entire journey, but he had refused to listen, had refused to brand her as the murderer she was and condemn her to the fate she had long ago accepted, and now her day of judgment had finally dawned. She cared not for her own safety; her concern was getting Hermione, Draco and Ron out of the fortress unharmed. Eyes closed, she took a deep breath and went over the route on final time in her mind. She could do this, she could and she would. She had to. There was no other way.

“Let’s go,” She said without glancing at Ron and turned around. Up ahead their narrow path met with a rock wall, but behind them was the freedom of the snowdrifts. Ron expected to take the path farther down the sloping cliff, but Luna backtracked and skirted the path, her feet sinking deep into the white dunes of frozen water as she clambered over them. Confused, Ron followed. They traversed the snow mounds as they sloped up and down for a while, until Ron was sure the fortress was a good mile and a half behind them. This self-forged path of theirs perplexed him, but he never once even consider doubting her.

The whiteness of the snow was beginning to blind him when Luna stopped in front of a particularly large snowdrift. Ron watched as she dusted off some of the snow and then placed her palm hard against it. To his surprise, her hand did not sink through the snow; in fact, it suspended against it as if she were pressing upon a rock. She took her left hand and, placing it directly above her right one, she pushed against the snowdrift with all of her might. Ron saw vapor steaming off of it and the snow suddenly surrendered and metamorphosed back into its original form of water. Luna took her hands away from the magical waterfall as it all poured down around her, splashing down in hot puddles at her feet and then evaporating into the chilly air. Ron stared in shock at the misty cave that suddenly stood before him.

“Come on,” Luna urged him forward, not at all phased by what had just happened, almost as if she turned solid ice into lakes every day. Obediently, Ron followed her. The inside of the cave was dark and moist, the stalactites and stalagmites covered in algae and slime. Ron and Luna lit up their wands with a whisper of “Alohamora” and navigated their steps around the puddles, so as not to telegraph their footsteps to anyone who might be lurking nearby. There was a massive crunching noise and a sudden flood of darkness that made Ron spin around. The mouth of the cave had filled with snow again, sealing them off from the rest of the world. He turned to Luna for an explanation. Though her back was to him, she answered him anyway, as if she had read his mind.

“This is a forgotten passageway,” She whispered, her soft words throwing a haunting echo around the dim cavern. “I read about it in one of the books in the back of the library in the fortress. After I knew the secret, I burned it so it would remain hidden to all but me. It’s simple, really. The snow only melts for a magical touch. To anyone else, it’s pure ice underneath. No one’s been down here in ye--” Her voice trailed off and she stopped so abruptly, Ron nearly walked into her. She held up her hand for silence when he opened his mouth to question her and peered into the darkness. With a swish of her wand, both of their lights were extinguished. Ron’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden change of light, but in that instant of vulnerability, he heard an impromptu series of splashes and a struggle. Ron heard a sword being ripped from a sheath instantly drew his and advanced on the fight. Without thinking, he relit his wand and illuminated the startling scene for all three of them.

Luna was three yards away, half concealed by a rock, but Ron could still see everything perfectly. She was straddling a man, her legs pinning his strong arms against his side, her left hand full of black hair, her right hand poising her sword menacingly against his throat. The emerald eyes of Harry Potter stared up at her in shock, then flicked over to Ron as soon as he came into view. Luna’s threatening sneer slid off her face much like the snow had melted a few moments ago, and she jumped off of Harry as quickly as she had attacked him.

“Harry!” She exclaimed as she shoved her sword back in its sheath. “How did you get in here?”

Ron too sheathed his blade and went over to help his commander to his feet. Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve before looking them over. Ron couldn’t help notice that his friend seemed to have aged ten more years since he had been him last. His face was gaunt, his eyes large and bright against his sallow skin. Water dripped off of him from where Luna had pushed him in the water, but Harry didn’t seem to mind. He looked relieved to see them.

“I couldn’t stand staying behind with Hermione in danger,” He explained. “We got word a few days ago that she’s pregnant, and Ron, I had to come myself. So I Apparated to this area and...well, I got lost from there,” He laughed bitterly to himself. “I got word from Ginny on the cell phone before I lost reception this morning that the Death Eaters ransacked Forgotten Valley and are headed for Hogwarts--” Ron and Luna gasped simultaneously and exchanged terrified looks. “--but by then I was too cold and weak to Apparate back. So I leaned up against this gigantic snowdrift and it turned into a tsunami right over my head. I followed the tunnel for a little while and then stopped to rest, and then you guys came and Luna nearly decapitated me.” He nodded approvingly at Luna, commending her for her agility and ferocity in which she had handled the situation. She blushed and muttered an apology that Harry dismissed with a wave of his hand. He then turned his eyes on Ron. “I was beginning to get worried when an eight day trip took you eleven. What happened?”

Ron laughed just as bitterly as Harry had as he thought back on their excursion. “We, er, ran into a few delays that couldn’t be helped,” He explained with a look that clearly said, “You can hear the gory details later.” Harry nodded his understanding and then swept his gaze over the two of them. A broad grin broke out on his face, a smile Ron hadn’t seen since the day he married Hermione a mere month ago. “Come on, guys. With the three of us fighting together, this godforsaken fortress won’t stand a chance.” He reached behind the rock he had been using for refuge and adjusted his gear. With a sweeping bow, he said to Luna, “Ladies first.” She smiled and led them down the length of the tunnel, Ron and Harry flanking either side of her. Perhaps, with The Boy Who Lived and her love beside her...perhaps she stood a chance.

~*~*~*~*~

The doors of the Great Hall were shut tight. The ceiling above their heads mimicked the mood that had befallen over them all; huge black thunderclouds and puffy gray rain clouds that were waiting for the opportune moment to relieve themselves. Heat lightning crackled high above the clouds, and a particularly strong bolt lit up the face of Virginia Malfoy as she stood on top of the old teacher’s table and looked down at the members of the Few who had assembled there. Their serious faces looked gravely into hers, their bodies arrayed with an impressive assortment of weapons, their muscles toned and trained for battles such as this. Ginny recognized schoolmates, old teachers, some of the original members of the Order of the Phoenix. She saw friends and relatives, old and young alike, pureblood, Half-blood and Muggle born banded together to engage in the largest confrontation of good and evil known to mankind. And she was at the head of it all. She was to lead these people to battle, to urge them to step outside and fight for a cause that could either save them all...or take their lives and imprison their families.

Those who could not fight were residing safely in Hogsmede. Ginny could count the survivors of the Forgotten Valley attack on both of her hands and still have fingers to spare. Those who were part of the fighting force under ARMED were stationed at various intervals around the castle and its grounds, but Ginny knew their only hope at salvation today lay in the abilities of these three hundred or so people before her.

Already the Death Eaters were outside the grounds, their powerful magic combining and whittling down the barriers of the castle. Ginny knew that a force of that magnitude would succeed in breaching the magical walls within the hour, and she knew her troops were just as aware of that fact as she was. And yet here they all were, their expressions ready and serious, not a moment’s glimpse of hesitation or doubt for their cause ever crossing their face. Though their dedication was obvious, they could not dismiss their nerves. Hands twitched over handles of swords, fingers fiddled with wands, teeth chewed on lips, eyes darted about the room. She needed to settle them if she wanted to have a chance at winning this thing. She felt a sudden wave of compassion for Harry, who had put up with being the one they turned to for his entire life.

“Prophecies have whispered of this day for years,” She said softly, the tomblike silence of the room carrying her voice to those assembled in the very back just as clearly as it was to those in the front. “As children, we all knew the stories of the evil that had once been banished from our community. But that evil returned not too long ago, and today, we are going to become the characters in the stories for our children. Look at the person standing beside you. It does not matter who they are or what ancestry runs in their blood. Today, we are all allies. Today, we will fight for each other’s families, each other’s beliefs...each other’s lives.”

A jet of red light flashed across the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall followed closely by three more. People everyone pointed and gasped. Ginny calmly acknowledged it, then looked back at the assembled Few. She gave them a moment for her words and that demonstration from the enemy to sink through. The soldiers outside of the Hall were shouting to one another, their voices audible but unclear. The Death Eaters must be getting close.

Eventually, all the faces looked back to Ginny. She ran her eyes over them, making contact with those she could, hoping she was stirring confidence in them as she did. “This is for your families,” She began, her voice calm and unwavering. “This is for your friends, for the Muggles, for the person you pass in these very halls every day but never see. This,” she raised her voice as their eyes began to shine in inspiration, “is for Albus Dumbledore, who gave his life for this cause because he believed. This is for Harry and Hermione Potter, my brother Ron Weasley, my husband Draco Malfoy, and Luna Lovegood, who took their fight to the doors of the enemy like the enemy has come to ours. Why did they go? Because they believe in this cause!” She was shouting now. The spells and curses above their heads were coming faster now, the raised voices outside the Hall becoming more frantic. “This is for everyone, whether they are from the past, the present, or the future, everyone that has ever believed in the independence of man! This is the deciding factor! This is the end of the world as we know it! Do you want Voldemort to win this war?”

“No!” They shouted in unison, not one cringing at the sound of his name.

“Do you want these Death Eaters to take this castle you’ve built so many memories on?”

“No!” Blue, green, violet, orange, red...a deadly rainbow was dancing above their heads, but no one paid attention anymore.

“Do you want freedom?” Ginny shouted.

“YES!” The Few answered, their combined voices shaking the walls of the Great Hall. Ginny narrowed her eyes and looked at them all in turn again. There was a magnificent explosion on the grounds. The time had almost come.

“Then go and give them hell,” She said softly, solidly. Her soldiers roared an agreement and spilled out of the doors of the Hall. Ginny jumped down from her perch on the table and sprinted after them as the thunder pealed and the sky fell in and the castle’s boundaries were breached. The rush of an impending victory pounded in her veins. Hogwarts would not fall today.

23. The Final Battle

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: This is it, guys. It’s been a great ride, it really has. Here’s the final, extremely long chapter. Review and I’ll include an Epilogue. Well, I’ll include the Epilogue either way, but please review anyway!

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Final Battle

Word in their cell was the War was to end today; at least, that’s what Hermione had told Draco she had heard through the handy Charm she had placed on their unsuspecting guard. According to the Spell Caster, Damien had unleashed hell on Hogwarts early that morning and was expecting to take the castle within an hour. Draco immediately panicked and threatened to break out of their cell with his bare hands if Hermione did not tear down the fortress. He was told that everything was under control and if he didn’t relax the only thing Hermione would put holes in would be his head.

“The real battle is going to be here,” She explained to his back as he clawed at the stone walls. “Ginny is more than capable of keeping herself and your daughters safe, Draco, now stop that and listen to me. We need to be ready.”

“I am NOT going to stay in here while the lives of my wife and children are at stake,” Draco said fiercely, kicking the wall and stubbing his toe. Cursing, he hopped around on his uninjured foot until he found himself face-to-face with Hermione. She grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to look at her.

“You’ll help your family more by staying here,” She demanded, her voice agitated with him. “Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve been saying? The War ends today, but it ends here, at this castle. Dammit, Draco, hold still, you aren’t going to sit out of this one, listen to me!”

“How do you know it’s going to end here? How do you know Hogwarts won’t fall and my family isn’t going to die?” Draco shouted down at Hermione, and though she was a head shorter than he was, not once did she shrink from his rage.

“Because Ginny can handle herself, Draco, she’s a more than capable leader. Do you really think she can’t lead them to victory?” Draco opened his mouth to say something, and then her words hit him. She saw them process in his mind, and his eyes betrayed his confusion to her.

“What do you mean?”

“Ginny’s been put in charge of defending Hogwarts because Harry left to bring the real battle here, to team up with Ron and Luna and get us out. But it’ll be more than just that, I’m afraid. We’re going to have to fight, and one way or another, the War is going to be won today, here in the fortress, not at Hogwarts.” She eased her grip on his shoulders as she felt the tension leave his body. He gazed down at her in amazement.

“How do you know this?” He asked softly as he watched Hermione step away and reveal her wand. Within seconds, she had performed that wordless, eerie spell that transported his sword through solid walls and into her soft palms. She looked at is sadly, then offered it up to him, her face filled with remorse.

“How do you know?” He repeated, taking the blade in his hand and feeling the familiar sensation of power emanate through him. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but there was a grating noise at the door of their cell.

“Now is not the time,” Hermione’s voice was suddenly serious, her body and wand ready and poised for whatever came through that door. Draco mimicked her and settled into a fighting stance. He felt a weight in his pocket and looked down at the handle of his wand. He chanced a thankful glance at Hermione, who nodded and looked back to the door. The handle was turning, and with a horrible scraping sound, it swung open. Draco sprang forward to meet their attackers, and he heard Hermione begin a Cruciatus Curse. They stopped short, however, when the recognized the three people entering the cell.

Hermione ran into Harry’s arms when she recognized him. Draco saw the telltale red head of his brother-in-law and the slender form of Luna Lovegood flanking Harry, backs to the cell, wands raised in defense. Ron glanced over his shoulder and spotted Draco.

“You all right, mate?” He called and Draco nodded. His attention turned back to Harry and Hermione. The former was holding the latter at arm’s length, scrutinizing her with an anxious eye.

“Are you two okay?” He asked, his voice more than slightly concerned, so much that Draco was sure he wasn’t referring to him when he said “you two.”

Hermione looked puzzled for a moment then caught her husband’s gaze as it faltered to her stomach. “Oh,” She said softly. Damien had sent word to Harry that she was pregnant. “Actually, Harry...” She pointed her wand at her midriff and it deflated to its normal size. Harry looked up at her in bewilderment. “...I’m not really pregnant, darling. It was a story I had to tell Damien, and--”

Harry held up his hand and glanced over his shoulder. Draco had heard it too. Someone was coming. “Now’s not the time,” He whispered hurriedly to Hermione. “Are you okay?” She nodded. Harry looked at Draco. “How’re you holding up?”

“Alive, aren’t I?” Draco asked, picking a spot over Harry’s shoulder where he had a clear shot at whatever was coming around the corner. Satisfied that they were whole, Harry and Hermione joined the ranks of Ron, Luna and Draco. The five of them grew silent and listened down the corridor. Luna and Ron hadn’t known about the battle being waged at Hogwarts today until Harry had told them, and Luna hadn’t counted on the heightened security of the fortress as she had led them through it. Someone must’ve found the unconscious bodies of the guards by now and had sent for reinforcements. Sure enough, the sound of feet running their way was soon heard echoing down the hall. Then there was a hiss and a gasp from behind them. Ron and Luna spun to find Harry clutching his head, Hermione’s hands braced on his shoulder to steady him.

“What is it, Harry?” Luna asked. Ron glanced at her, and despite the fact that she hadn’t returned it, he had the feeling that they were both thinking the same thing.

“He’s here,” Harry grimaced, raising watery eyes as the rhythmic pounding of the runners grew closer. Draco grew tense and looked at Hermione, who was keeping a watchful eye on Harry. She had said the War would end today, here. Had she known that the Dark Lord was in the fortress? How had she possible acquired that kind of knowledge? He didn’t have the time to ponder it, for at that moment, five Death Eaters rounded the corner and stared them down.

“Well, well, well,” A pale Death Eater Harry recognized as Antonin Dolohov said slowly, a malevolent smile spreading across his twisted face. “Look what we have here. Three blood traitors, a Mudblood, and the infamous Boy-Who-Lived. Aren’t we lucky, Bellatrix?”

“Yes,” Bellatrix Lestrange’s hands lowered her hood and she stared at them with hateful eyes. Beside him, Harry felt Ron stir, and he understood; Ron had suffered more losses at the hand of this woman than Harry would ever begin to understand. He wanted to see her dead as greatly as Ron did, but he knew Ron would be the one battling her today. The other Death Eaters sniggered and lowered their hoods. He recognized none of the others, but that was besides the point. There would be a battle today, whether he knew whom he was hexing or not. As if to prove it, a dark skinned female Death Eater raised her wand and shouted “Expelli-”

“Protego!” Luna shouted the counter curse before the others could react and parried the woman’s disarming Charm. From there, all hell broke loose. The air was buzzing with spells, Curses and Charms, most of them silent but deadly. Harry had just frozen his foe and was looking for an opening in the fray when he heard it above the dim. It was a voice that had not tortured his ear for years, and now it was back, back with a vengeance.

“Protego!” Harry countered before Severus Snape’s Sectumsempra found its target. Harry whirled and found himself face-to-face with his traitorous Potions teacher of old. A sneer spread across his greasy face. Harry knew he was capable of killing in that moment.

Ron hadn’t missed a beat in singling out Bellatrix Lestrange and now their duel and moved into a deserted corridor to the right of the original hallway. He battled her as fiercely as he could, given the circumstances; she was shouting insults at him, bringing back painful memories of those she had taken from him.

“Weasely,” She spat as she aimed a hex his way. “I can tell by the hair. So those were your parents, boy? And I guess your brothers too...yes, yes, I remember them. Weak, that’s what they were. Most blood traitors are,” She paused to deflect Ron’s attack. “Filthy, disgusting excuses of life. Almost as bad as a Mudblood, yes...you taint our lineage, dishonor or proud ancestry.”

Ron missed a beat and fell prey to Bellatrix’s Curse. As his legs locked up and he fell to the ground, he felt her move over to him. Dark eyes glinted down at him, fanatic and maniacal. Her smile was twisted.

“Well, if this isn’t familiar,” She said softly, bending down over him, bringing her face close to his. “Percy, I think his name was? I remember him distinctly...couldn’t make up his mind, that one. One day he was for us, the next day he was against us. Well, I made up his mind for him, but he fought my Imperious Curse all the way, didn’t he? Went and snitched to you, as it were, and let that filthy Harry Potter avoid the inevitable longer...weak, that’s what your brother was. Weak and unable to chose a side, a traitor to the end--”

There was a roar, a flash of emerald light, and Bellatrix Lestrange’s body fell stiffly beside Ron, her face twisted, her mouth still in the form of the sentence Ron had killed her halfway through. He hadn’t even realized he had killed her until he got to his feet and looked down at her body. A heavy weight lifted from his shoulders and he could’ve sworn he felt his family smiling down at him from the depths of Death. His victory was short-lived, however. Something was wrong.

Panicking, Ron realized that he could not see the others. He ran down the corridor and spun around the corner. Harry was locked in an epic battle with Snape, Draco and Hermione were teamed up against Dolohov and the woman who had begun the fight, but Ron’s heart leapt into his throat when he realized Luna was nowhere to be seen...

~*~*~*~*~

Heavy battle had been raining down on Hogwarts for nearly an hour and a half now. The Few had met the Death Eaters as they came through the front gates, and Ginny looked around in suppressed horror as the bodies of friend and for alike began to litter the ground. She had just warded off her eighth Death Eater and was looking for someone else to take on when she heard shouts from the castle. She whipped around and looked to the doors. Members of ARMED were emptying through them, building a solid wall of swords, shields, axes and other weaponry between the advancing Death Eaters and Hogwarts. Though Ginny was positive that the enemy had suffered more casualties, the Few were still greatly outnumbered and the Death Eaters were slowly pressing closer and closer to the castle.

Ginny turned from the human barricade in time to parry a stray jinx. She was keeping a lookout for the pale figure of her father-in-law, Lucius Malfoy. Certainly he would be here, commanding the Death Eaters as she was commanding the Few, but she had yet to glimpse his elegant blonde head. She tossed aside her thoughts of Lucius and ran to assist Neville in his duel with Pansy Parkinson. Together they took her down, and as Neville turned to nod his thanks to her, Ginny’s entire body and mind became acutely alert to everything around her. Neville saw the look and questioned it, but Ginny raised a hand to silence him. Somewhere, something was dreadfully wrong, but she couldn’t place her finger on it...

“Neville,” She began slowly, her heart pounding at the impossible thought her brain had just entertained. “Neville, my girls are in Hogsmede, aren’t they? I saw them go; you saw them go...”

“They’re safe, Gin, I prom--” Neville began, but at that moment, a bloodcurdling scream split the air.

“MAMA!!”

“Ella!” Ginny gasped, wheeling around to face her daughter’s voice. It had come from her quarters in the southeastern tower. “Neville, hold them!” She ordered, and with the magic barriers long broken, Apparated to the tower.

Because her husband was a spy, there were powerful spells on their quarters that would not let one Apparate into them. They were separate from Hogwart’s network, and because of that, Ginny cursed them with every foul word she knew as she ran up the winding staircase. Her daughter’s frantic screams were echoing down the stone walls, and Ginny felt as if she could not possibly run fast enough. Finally she reached the door and wrenched it open with all her might. She burst into the room, wand ready to strike down whoever was harming Gabriella, but the sight that met her eyes stopped her cold.

Ella was sobbing at the side of the bed, one of Draco’s five-inch knives clutched in her hand. The stainless steel was dripping blood onto her daughter’s fist, and sprawled in a crimson puddle not a yard in front of Ella lay the body of Lucius Malfoy.

Gabriella spotted Ginny in the doorway, dropped the knife and ran to her. She collided hard with her legs and buried her face in her knees, her terrified cries lost to Ginny’s ears. Astonished, Ginny ran a hand over her daughter’s hair, her eyes not believing what she was seeing. Entranced, she knelt down to Ella’s level and gathered the little girl in her arms, then backed out of the room. Ginny shut the door as soon as they were out, desperate to put that solid oak barrier between her daughter and her grandfather. Ella was losing consciousness against Ginny’s shoulder. Ginny pressed the small body closer to her and closed her eyes, her anguished tears flowing freely.

“End this, Harry,” She found herself whispering as Ella’s breathing became normal. “End it, end it soon and give us our lives back.”

~*~*~*~*~

Snape fell to his knees, his body clinging on to life by a mere thread. Harry towered over him, years of hatred flashing in his eyes. As he glowered down at his old Potions master, Snape grinned weakly.

“You may have beaten me, Potter, but I was only the beginning. You will fall, you will, just like your parents did. It is...inevitable.” His last word rolled breathlessly off his tongue. His dark eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed on the floor. He felt Draco and Hermione’s eyes on him, but there was no time to discuss with them. His head had been throbbing increasingly for the past ten minutes, and as he looked around with watery eyes, he saw it. The only way out of the fortress, their only escape from the War, strode down the corridor to meet him for what they both knew would be the final time.

~*~*~*~*~

Destiny was calling her. She had run from the battle and through the familiar halls of the fortress, taking a staircase here and there, attacking anyone who stood in her path. A tiny voice in the back of her mind told her that if she just stayed away from the balcony, she would come to no harm and she and Ronald would return to Hogwarts safely, and theirs would be a happily ever after ending. The temptation of denying her fate was overwhelming. Once or twice she collapsed against a wall and cried until the tantalizing thought left her. She had a duty to fulfill. If she did not act accordingly, the whole world would pay. She would not let humanity suffer because she had been selfish. She would rather die knowing she had given him a better life, albeit without her, than live with him through this horrid war. She had to press onward.

Her footsteps carried her swiftly through the fortress without her command. She didn’t realize she knew where she was until she burst through the glass doors of her old room and onto the snow-coated balcony. Abruptly she stopped and looked around. Nothing had changed. It was just as she had left it, and it would remain that way for eternity when she left it today.

The air grew tense; her stomach clenched and she eased her hand over the hilt of her sword. The moment she had waited for all her life was finally upon her. The moment of truth, the moment of action, the deciding factor. She did not know how, did not know what she had to do, but she understood that something had to be done and she was the only one who could carry it out....

The wind shouted a warning in her ear. He was here. She sensed his attack and spun to meet him, her sword ripping from her sheath as she did. They met in the middle, the haunting sound of steel-on-steel ringing mercilessly in the cold air. Damien’s yellow eyes bore into her, his twisted, freakish face glaring menacingly down at her. He smiled, and it sent shivers down her spine.

“We meet again, my angel. For the final time, I hope.” He pulled away from her and danced away, hiding himself in the thick snowfall.

“Fight me fairly, coward,” She spat as she turned in circles to meet him from whatever angle he would attack. She heard his high, chilling laugh echo from all around her, but the corner of her eye caught his movement and she parried his blow and sent him back into the snow.

‘Aid me,’ She begged the wind, but it had died. There would be no unfair benefits in this battle of good and evil, this clash of wills. She narrowed her eyes and peered through the snow again. Nothing. And then it happened. Her body sensed the proximity of his sword from behind her, slicing at her neck, and she swung around to deflect him. Even as she raised her defenses, she knew she was too late. She opened her mouth to scream...

And was promptly deafened by clash of steel and blinded by a sudden shock of orange. Ron stood before her, locked down to the hilt with Damien, his teeth bared and eyes ablaze. She watched in shock and horror as they sprang apart and then came together again and again. Her breath caught in her throat; perhaps they stood a chance. But in a complicated twirl of his sword, Damien broke Ron’s hold on his blade and sent the weapon through an opening in the rail and plummeting to the snow ground below. Ron’s hand flashed to his side for his wand, but Luna knew what would happen before it did and cried out in dismay as Damien’s sword sunk into Ron’s stomach. His eyes widened in disbelief as he fell to the ground, clutching his bleeding stomach. Consumed with grief and rage, Luna broke from her trance and lunged at Damien.

Her sword slid through his flesh like water. Wild, she grabbed his shoulder and pushed with all her might. Though she couldn’t see it happen, she felt the succulent surrender of bone and skin to her blade. He shrieked in pain and countered by sticking her in the opposite shoulder. She felt the steel threaten to break her like she had done to him, but he didn’t have the time to get far. Damien was suddenly engulfed in a fantastic green light, and as it died, his body slumped to the floor. Luna wrenched her shoulder away before she could be dragged down with him and turned to Ron. With his left hand he covered his mortal wound, with his right he lowered his wand. Luna’s heart skipped a beat as she saw how pale he was, even against the snow, and her hand faltered to her stomach. Dropping her own sword and wand, she ran to him and knelt by his side, supporting his head with her hand. Far below she heard shouts of triumph, but she didn’t inquire them. Ron was dying in her arms; what else mattered?

“Ron,” She breathed, not sure what to say. He knowingly, willingly sacrificed himself for her. It had been her destiny to die, not his. She had seen it, had been told that’s how it was supposed to happen. She had prepared to die today for the majority of her life, and now he was doing it for her. It wasn’t fair. She opened her mouth to tell him so, tears stinging her eyes, but he held up a finger.

“Shhh,” He said softly. His mouth was a vibrant red against his white face. She began to sob. She could not lose him, she refused to lose him, not after all he had done for her. Twice now he had given her her life back, and twice now she had failed him. As if he had read her mind, Ron reached up and placed his hand on the side of her face. With a ragged breath, she composed herself, taking her free hand and pressing it against the one on her cheek, tilting her head to kiss his palm. She pressed her lips hard against him and then looked into his eyes.

“Don’t leave me,” She begged. He smiled.

“Never,” He promised. As they stared at each other, the wind picked up again and blew softly over their bodies, and Luna finally understood why she had been given the gift of communicating with it. Biting her lip at his unspoken promise, she nodded. He smiled again, then looked away from her. His eyes became distant; Luna followed his gaze to the mountains. The sun was vibrantly setting behind them.

“We won, Luna,” He whispered as she looked back at him. His eyes caught hers once more. “We won the War.”

“Yes,” She said with a sad smile. “Yes we did.”

She was losing him; she could see it in his face, could feel on the air. Death was claiming Ronald Weasley, opening its black arms to him, welcoming him home. She saw in his face that he was fighting it, begging for a few final moments with her. He was granted his wish.

Gently, she stroked the side of his face and leaned over him. She pressed her forehead to his and breathed him in, wanting always to remember everything about him. She felt his fingers lose themselves in her hair.

“I love you,” He said, so quietly Luna wouldn’t have been able to hear him if she hadn’t bee so close.

“I love you too,” She whispered. “And I always will.”

“Don’t think of me as gone,” He begged her, his breathing raspier. Death was becoming impatient. “I’ll always be with you. We will see each other again. Do you believe it?”

“I do.” She said solidly, knowing she had never said truer words in her life. Ron smiled and looked up at him, a playful fire in his slowly dimming eyes. Luna laughed softly; he would be himself to the end. Nodding, she leaned in closer and kissed him softly. She felt his chest rise beneath her as he returned it, and for a moment, not even Death could tear them apart. She was filled with that same fire she had felt the first time she had kissed him, the time he had saved her from Isabella, that night they had made love. It filled her, completed her, satisfied her, and she understood what the Sages had meant in saying she would give up her life for the War. But she also understood that she had to let him go. It was the way of life.

She felt his chest fall, felt his final breath against her lips. Slowly she pulled away and gazed down at his serene face. He was really, truly gone.

‘No,’ Whispered the wind as it swirled around her, enveloping her body like strong arms in an embrace. ‘Always with you.’

Smiling sadly, she got to her feet. For the first time in years, she felt whole. She felt her mother and the Sages smiling down at her, felt her father’s love for her, and felt Ron’s presence on the wind. No, she would never be alone as long as she had them.

“Luna!” She heard a voice behind her shout. She turned to face Harry, his eyes alight with victory. “Luna, it’s over! The War’s over! Voldemort’s defeated! Where’s Ro--oh my God.” He had seen Ron’s body and crossed the entire length of the balcony in three long strides. For the first time since Ron killed Damien, Luna looked at the other lifeless body. He lay in the snow, saffron eyes wide in pain, fear, and...relief? Confused, Luna went over to his body and crouched by it for a better inspection. That’s when she saw the telltale black blood oozing from his shoulder wound, mixing with his own red blood. Apprehension dawned in her eyes and she looked to Harry, who was crying silent, unnoticed tears over Ron as he held his friend’s body in his arms.

She got to her feet and crossed over to Harry. Kneeling down beside him, she placed a hand on his shoulder and ran the fingers of her other hand through Ron’s snowy hair. She felt Harry’s eyes on her, but she didn’t meet his gaze.

“Yes,” She said quietly as she stared proudly at Ron’s body. “Yes, the War is finally over.”

24. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I take credit for this plot and my own characters, but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: Those were four of the most amazing reviews I’ve ever received for this story. At first, I was disappointed that I hard written that huge, final chapter only to get four replies back, but then I read them, and...well, I wanted to wait a little while before posting this, but you guys deserve it. For those of you who cried, I hope this ending makes you smile.

Epilogue

Ten months later...

Luna leaned her back more comfortably against the windowsill and gazed out at the dusty blue sky. Ever since she had returned to Hogwarts, this had been her favorite spot to come. She knew Ron had been here long ago; she had instantly recognized his magical residue on the spot. It gave her a beautiful view of the grounds and the sky in unison and it gave her an extra bit of connection to him. She smiled as he danced his way into her mind.

Upon Ron’s death, she had not told Harry that Damien had been a Horcrux for Voldemort and that, had Ron not killed him, Harry would probably have fallen at the hands of the Dark Lord. The entire world, whether wizard, witch or Muggle, sang Harry’s praises and would continue to do so for the rest of eternity. Luna did not begrudge him this right, but she kept it her secret that Ron had been just as much a hero has Harry had. She knew that, were he alive, that was how he would’ve wanted it. He did not need songs or medals to keep his legacy alive. She smiled lovingly down at the bundle in her arms. This was all the glory he would’ve wanted anyway.

Their infant daughter slept soundly in Luna’s arms, her freckled face smooth and peaceful. Luna had named her Abigail, which translated into “a father’s joy” and had taken on Ron’s name upon their child’s birth. Even now, at only a month old, Luna could see how strongly Abigail resembled her father in both appearance and personality. Perhaps it should’ve made her sad, but it didn’t. Her heart swelled with pride at what their love had created, but Abigail never brought grief upon her, never forced her to remember that Ron was not with her. The wind picked up and Luna raised her face to its warm caress. Why should she despair when he was right there with her?

The zephyr lingered on her face, then traveled down her arms and stirred her daughter’s tuft of light orange hair. Luna smiled as the baby stirred and smiled in her sleep, her tiny fists clenching in response to the curious breeze.

“Daddy says he loves you,” Luna whispered as the wind left them. She leaned down and pressed her lips to Abigail’s warm forehead. The baby crooned.

“I can’t believe how much she looks like him,” Said a quiet voice from the doorway. Luna looked up and smiled at Hermione. Her stomach was swollen in its seventh month of pregnancy, for real this time. Something told Luna she would bear a son and that destiny had laid a wonderful life out for their children. She smiled silently and looked back out at the stars. Sensing that she wanted to be alone, Hermione left.

For a while she stared at the moon, her thoughts once again reliving the short but wonderful time she had spent with Ron. Abigail’s cries jarred her from her reminiscence; she had woken and was hungry. Luna quieted her as she got to her feet and turned to leave the tower, but was stopped by another breeze. It lingered over her again, wrapping itself around her. Luna melted into it, feeling not the air but Ron’s arms around her, solid and real. And then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Luna looked back to the window and could’ve sworn she saw his face for a moment on the wind as it departed.

Abigail wailed and Luna smiled. Those cries were Ron’s song of recognition for his great deeds. Someday she would explain to Abigail that you don’t have to change the world to be a hero, that all you have to do is touch someone’s heart, and though the world may not recognize you, someone will always be singing your song.

End

Note: Now, did you really think I’d leave you all with the death of one of our beloved main characters?? I love you all so very much! Thank you ALL for reading and reviewing, you have made this first experience unforgettable. I hope to hear from you all in the future! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!!! I hope you enjoyed Unsung Hero, because I loved writing it for you. Keep reading!