Unsung Hero by 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....




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 *un*dressed 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!