Twenty
Luna: What a Difference a Year Makes
She knew they called her Loony Lovegood behind her back. They could have said it right to her face and it wouldn’t have mattered. Everyone had a nickname at one time or another. Most were hardly flattering. Why should hers be any different?
What they failed to understand was that Luna was inordinately proud of her name. The moon was a benevolent deity who watched over the slumbering lands. At the same time, it allowed timid creatures to go about their business unhindered by mankind. How else could she explain her uncanny affinity with all sorts of animals?
Nor was she repulsed to learn that the moon was the siren call to magical creatures such as werewolves and hinkypunks. Each and every living being had its unique niche in the world. Just because a wild animal resisted domestication didn’t mean it was necessarily evil. That was just narrow-mindedness on the part of wizards who forced it into an arbitrary category in the first place.
Take werewolves for instance. Granted, she’d never known any personally “ other than Professor Lupin, that is. And wasn’t he the gentlest, most patient soul she’d encountered at Hogwarts? It was as if all his negative emotions were consumed within that one night per month that he transformed into a wolf. So why did the world seek to treat him as a pariah the remaining days? It had never made any sense to Luna.
She sighed with regret that she would never get to share her thoughts with the professor now. If only she’d known about his affliction while he was her instructor, she would’ve struck up a conversation after class. So many opportunities lost. By the time the word had spread throughout the school that he’d resigned his teaching post, he was already gone.
Nevertheless, she’d always believed the proper moment would come. Sometime in the misty future her path would cross that of her former teacher and she would be able to give him her vote of confidence, too. Just as Harry had managed on that fateful morning when he’d caught up with the professor just as he was packing. How she wished she’d known to accompany Harry. But they really hadn’t become friends until a couple of years later “ when Harry himself had needed her vote of confidence.
Then as if Fate herself had decreed it, there was Professor Lupin among the guests at Bill Weasley’s wedding, a newlywed himself. There had been something troubling him, though. Even from the other side of the marquee, Luna could tell by the way his forehead was pinched together. Almost as if he had a bad headache, but not quite. She was rather good at reading people, their mannerisms like a road map if you only looked with all your senses.
She would tell him how pleased she was about his good fortune. Compliment him on the radiant young witch at his side whose eyes glowed so warmly every time she glanced at her new husband. Show him how lucky he was in the midst of the crumbling infrastructure of the wizarding world.
But before she took two steps nearer, the very darkness that had hovered at the edges of their consciousness arrived like a maelstrom in their midst. In an instant, Harry, Ron and Hermione Disapparated with a resounding echo that was lost among the woeful cries coming from every direction. She couldn’t help noting the haunted look in Professor Lupin’s eyes as he stared at the spot where the trio had stood just a heartbeat before.
In the charged atmosphere as Voldemort’s henchmen materialized in the center of the celebration, Luna felt it too: their hopes were encapsulated in Harry; he was the priority now. If he didn’t succeed, it was unclear if anyone else could banish the taint of evil.
Then she’d heeded the gentle pressure of her father’s hand to return to their home before the attackers thought to impose an Anti-Apparition Charm. But she had remembered the professor’s unwitting lesson from that dismal day and employed it as the rallying cry for Dumbledore’s Army. It didn’t matter that it was mostly Neville, Ginny and herself; the three of them were devoted to their goal to create as much havoc in Harry’s name as they could.
Those in Slytherin didn’t get it, of course. They denounced them as lunatics “ as if that term could ever be considered a slur to her. Dumbledore’s Dunces, they mocked for following in the footsteps of a ruddy ghost who didn’t even have the decency to properly show himself. She didn’t let their petty jealousies tarnish her beliefs, not even when they came for her aboard the Hogwarts Express.
How ironic that the next opportunity to talk to Professor Lupin had come the night of the Final Battle, when she’d learned that he’d just become a father for the first time. Affirmations were all fine and good, but they’d all had other priorities on their minds at the moment. She’d answered his call for volunteers to secure the front lawn but there had been no time for small talk. From the moment she’d stepped outside, all her energies had been devoted to staying alive. As for the professor, he’d disappeared like a wraith among the crisscrossing spells.
Months later she still felt the gnawing tug of sadness, noting inwardly that she was not as clueless as others supposed. They just never gave her credit for approaching life on her own terms. So when schoolmates giggled behind her back, Luna was happy that she could lighten their mood.
Only Harry had understood; they whispered about him, too. He’d recognized her as a singular individual from the start -- no wonder she felt more at ease with him than any of her other schoolmates.
“Muggles have an expression for it,” he’d confided. “You just march to the beat of a different drummer, Luna.”
The phrase had been a perfect fit for her, she acknowledged as she favored her friend with a serene smile. “I like music. It stirs up primal energy as it soothes with the same melody.” Then she’d added, “But I think my drum is actually a bodhran.”
Momentary surprise turned into genuine interest and he asked, “What makes that so unique?”
“It’s not what you’d expect to look at it.” Then she’d explained how the drum was small enough to hold in the crook of an arm, yet its echoing beat resembled the pounding feet of a marching army. Thus had small bands of Keltic warriors persevered among military giants in the past.
“Right here among these Scottish foothills,” he’d affirmed.
“Even more so across the North Channel,” she echoed.
Luna had long ago accepted that people didn’t always believe her, either. It had been like that since she was a small child. But she was not about to let the ignorance of the world in general mar her existence. They would find out soon enough “ or never, in some cases. People had the right to live within their cocoons if they choose. Her father had taught her that at an early age.
“We can shine the light of truth for all to see, but don’t be surprised when many pretend they are blind,” Xenophilius Lovegood always maintained.
Thus it was with a small measure of satisfaction that she watched the other students mount the carriages that would transport them to Hogwarts castle on the evening of September first. Nervous glances towards the softly heaving flanks of the tethered thestrals convinced them that they had been wrong to assume the carriages pulled themselves.
Luna knew they had discounted her words as fantasy when she’d tried to tell them before. Even Harry had been reluctant to trust the evidence before his very eyes. She supposed that sooner or later, they would all see the truth for themselves. The harsh lessons of life and death were unavoidable in a time of war.
It was sad, too, that those who saw her as naive and detached from reality eventually discovered that it was quite the opposite. Sometimes ignorance was indeed bliss, Luna philosophized, wishing that death had not knocked on so many people’s doors in the past year.
She was pleased to see the familiar faces of Ron and Hermione as she looked forward to sharing classes with them for the first time. Not that she didn’t have a lot of catching up to do for missing the latter half of her sixth year. But the Headmistress had assured her that those who’d remained at Hogwarts until the bitter end were in need of a recap as well. A school overrun with Death Eaters did not foster a very conducive learning environment, she’d confided to Luna. And those who’d sought refuge in the Room of Requirement had likewise been prevented from attending lessons.
Hermione had traded concerns with her aboard the Hogwarts Express, each finding reassurance in the other. The common bond of Dumbledore’s Army superseded any previous House alliances, Luna concluded with silent approval.
Ron was ecstatic that he’d been named Gryffindor Quidditch captain and could only mumble incoherently through his joy. It was sweet, as Hermione had observed wryly during the long train ride. Despite all the tribulations he’d endured with Harry during the previous year, Ron’s unblemished happiness shone like a beacon in a world that was still reeling from its narrow victory.
Even though she felt Ginny’s absence keenly, Luna understood why she’d want to remain at Harry’s side. After all, Ginny had openly yearned for Harry during the past year. Who could fault her for following her heart when she had the chance? Luna hoped that one day she herself would have reason to feel that way about another and think nothing of throwing practicality out the window.
“It’s as if everything’s back to normal,” Dean Thomas breathed reverently as the majestic towers of Hogwarts rose against the last orange streaks of the sunset.
“Did you miss everyone while you were away?” Luna posed in a tone that from anyone else would have seemed guileless. As a Muggleborn, Dean had been unwelcome at Hogwarts under the Death Eaters’ yoke. But she hardly thought his vagabond existence prior their reunion in the basement of Malfoy Manor had been very enjoyable, either.
“More than I ever thought possible,” he affirmed.
“Is Neville going to be recruiting for Dumbledore’s Army?” Michael Corner whispered in her ear, causing her to pull away at the tickling sensation.
“Only as a Defense study group,” Luna reiterated what the Headmistress had decreed. “When he spoke at the funeral, Harry declared that we should put down our arms. We should follow his example.”
She didn’t have to add that Neville had only been the de facto leader while Harry had been on his quest. It sounded too much like a knight errant on crusade to put it that way, but words for the true hardships he’d faced were not the stuff of casual conversation. Harry did not confide in many, she’d learned; and Luna was not about to betray his friendship with idle chatter.
The first years were stunned into silence as they disembarked from their boats. Hagrid waved a mighty hand in greeting to those atop the carriage and Luna balanced on her bouncing seat to wave back.
The Sorting Hat would have its work cut out for it this year as the ranks of the first years now included those whom had been barred from attending last year. Muggleborns who had been prudently advised to fade into the shadows lest they be persecuted by Death Eaters for being born with magical talent.
As if the children themselves had any say in it, Luna reasoned. Not that the parents really did, either, when you got down to it. They were completely ignorant of the magical world around them. If the Death Eaters had only thought this through, they would’ve concluded that Mother Nature was at fault “ and laying the blame at Her feet was a pointless pursuit if ever there was one.
From atop the long stone stairs that led to the docking grottos below the castle, Filius Flitwick, the newly appointed Deputy Headmaster, beckoned the reluctant first years to queue up in preparation for the Sorting Ceremony. Only standing on an overturned crate allowed him to be seen over the crowd.
He’d been well-advised to don the tall purple hat that made him look like a garden gnome with aspirations above his station, Luna decided with a small giggle. That, too, was one of her father’s favorite sayings.
As Head of her own Ravenclaw House, she knew the professor’s talents far exceeded what his compact stature would suggest. A renowned duelist in his youth, Flitwick’s quick skill with charms, jinxes and counter-jinxes was well-respected throughout the wizarding world. Luna just hoped that his added duties to the Headmistress would not prevent him from indulging in an occasional game of Wizard’s Chess. She’d spent a good portion of her captivity in Malfoy Manor devising unexpected counterattacks to his favorite stratagems. All she needed was the opportunity to put them to the test.
She found many familiar faces at her house table. Terry Boot was deep in conversation with Anthony Goldstein, the latter looking out of uniform without his prefect badge flashing under the floating candles. Like Neville, these two had returned for the Headmistress’ accelerated review to prepare them for sitting their NEWT’s in late October.
It was particularly sad that Padma Patil was absent, but Luna understood why she preferred to mourn with the rest of her family in India. Her last memories of school couldn’t have been pleasant ones as her sister’s body had been ceremonially wrapped for further transport overseas.
Still others, like Lavender Brown, had not recovered fully enough for the rigors of climbing the multiple staircases that crisscrossed the castle proper. Like many who were not present, her parents had hired a private tutor to prepare for her upcoming examinations.
Stewart Ackerly now towered over her even though he was only in his OWL year. He and Orla Quirke were quite the pair as they flirted in unabashed whispers at the far end of the Ravenclaw table. Luna caught Orla’s eye and issued a tentative smile. She was rewarded with an enthusiastic wave and a pantomimed congratulations as Orla pointed to where Luna’s prefect badge was pinned.
As she surveyed the head table full of familiar and not-so-familiar faces, Luna's quiet musings were cut short by a gentle tug on her sleeve.
“Is it true you were here for the battle?” The saucer eyes of a lowly first year implored. “I’m Balthazar, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you,” Luna replied, somewhat taken aback when the young lad met her gaze directly.
“T’zar is much too inquisitive for his own good,” a raven-haired lass leaned over his shoulder. “I’m Lacey.”
“Come on, Lace, you’re just as curious,” T’zar argued through a mouthful of mashed turnips.
“Don’t be so modest,” Quincie Quintain supplied. “Tell them about the night you ambushed that Carrow…cow…while the rest of us were in bed. Harry Potter was at your side and all.”
Luna recalled being particularly anxious to try out her new wand. Kind Mr. Ollivander had insisted on personally carving her a replacement after their escape from the Malfoy Manor. A suitable coming-of-age gift for her seventeen birthday, he’d confided in a bare whisper, an event that had gone uncelebrated during their incarceration.
Once again her private thoughts were interrupted by her new housemates.
“You know Harry Potter?” squeaked a timid lad whose eyes barely reached over the table. His worn book satchel was embossed with an eagle so he likely came from a long line of Ravenclaws.
“I do,” Luna beamed beatifically. “You, on the other hand….”
“Raleigh,” he muttered as if he didn’t want to share his secret with anyone else.
“Like the famed explorer?” Luna whispered back.
Raleigh shook his tawny locks so they flew in all directions. “My mum claimed that if she stuck with the ‘R’s, I’d be more likely to be sorted into her old house. Dad’s a Muggle, see.” The last was issued so lowly Luna practically read the words from his lips.
“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Luna intoned. “You set right by your mum because you inherited her abilities.”
“And her eagle book bag,” Raleigh issued proudly as he turned the flap over to show where it had been lettered ‘Roxanne.’ “You don’t think she’ll hate me if I ask everyone to call me Leigh, instead?”
“Owl her tonight that you got into Ravenclaw,” Luna recommended. “Tell her about the nickname your mates gave you when you return for Yuletide.”
As Leigh nodded happily, Luna turned her watery eyes to the last bites of her pork roast before the pudding magically arrived. Little by little, she noticed that a good portion of the first years and even second years kept looking in her direction expectantly. Some stole glances between staring at their half-eaten confections, but no one seemed to be sniggering behind their hands for a change.
“Tell you what,” she confided just minutes before the Headmistress called for prefects to lead their new charges to their dormitories. “If everyone settles in quietly tonight, tomorrow after supper we’ll reconvene in the common room and I’ll tell you all about the events that took place on that very site.”
The details of that fateful night were forever seared into Luna’s memory. If she had thought her encounter with Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries had prepared her for battle, reality abruptly brought her up short. Only the surreal sense that this couldn’t really be happening was similar. But instead of the cavernous rooms devoted to esoteric research, she stepped into a roiling sea of chaos. The booming sounds of destruction, garbled shouts, and screams alike assaulted her like a physical wave.
Despite the darkness that had settled over the Forbidden Forest in the distance, Hogwarts’ front lawn was peppered with patchy bonfires. Had these been set deliberately to provide illumination for the attackers or were they nothing more than piles of smoldering debris? All she knew for certain was that the acrid smoke burned her eyes even more if she struggled to focus on the flaming details within.
Picking her way across the grounds took all of her concentration as spells of every color flashed in all directions at once. Between the shadows and the smoke which hugged the ground like a noxious fog, she could only catch glimpses of the fighting. Not that she could recognize friend or foe from their silhouettes, however.
Luckily, her deployment was purely defensive. Kingsley Shacklebolt had assigned her, Seamus Finnegan and Ernie MacMillan to guard the various entrances to the castle just in case any of the Slytherins decided to slink back among the ranks of the enemy. Especially the older ones who had shown open hostility towards Harry in the Great Hall.
Seamus trotted off towards the covered bridge while Ernie volunteered to patrol the side courtyard. That left Luna with the main entrance and the side door which connected to the greenhouses.
Like eyes of a colossal centipede, the dark windows of the closest greenhouse flashed with the intensity of the reflected firefight. Heeding the nervous pounding of her heart, Luna clung to the shadowy eaves as much as possible. She dared not light her wand tip for fear of being targeted.
Checking the door was secure, she pressed her face to a small corner of the dingy glass. Everything was dark and quiet within. With a grim nod of satisfaction, Luna continued deeper into the lee of the castle. The areas here were untouched by the fighting, yet the stone canyons amplified sound into dissonant echoes.
In vain, she sought the quiet place within her psyche that had always allowed her to weather any storm. But in this hellish nightmare, there was no oasis. The pounding of blood in her ears reminded her that the only way to persevere was to move forward. To draw within herself would be tantamount to succumbing to madness … and death.
The second greenhouse loomed above her like a crouched tiger. Behind its sightless windows, the flickering of wand tips snaked like fireflies in the summer dusk. The murmur of hushed voices was unmistakable as her wordless Homenum Revelio spell indicated two presences within.
Intent on catching her quarry unaware, Luna crouched behind the door nearest to the castle. Up close, it was clear that the padlock was unhasped. She considered surprising them then concluded that she would likely succeed in only stunning one before the other managed to escape out the back door. And she’d be lucky to avoid being stunned herself in return.
Perhaps she should just lock them inside the greenhouse like bugs inside a cricket cage. Only as a temporary diversion, she decided. Two wands would make quick work of the glass ceiling; and even a Squib could break a window by heaving a heavy flowerpot at it. Before she managed to come up with a workable plan, the door creaked open and two figures crept out “ mere inches from where Luna was holding her breath. Casting a wordless Shield Charm, she angled her wand where her attack would be most effective.
“Where should I drape the Devil’s Snare to do the most damage?”
“Near the lane leading to the front steps. Then Levitate a clump on the portico that we can drop on unsuspecting invaders.”
“What about sunlight? The shadows of the parapet will only protect it for a while.”
“That’s all we have, when you get down to it. A while.” The distorted voice took on a grimmer tone. “Our defenses will be used up long before dawn.”
Luna slowly let the air out of her lungs as Neville and Professor Sprout slunk off in opposite directions. Good thing they hadn’t seen her or they would likely have fired before asking questions.
Like a spectre, she slowly trailed Neville as he circled back towards the front of the castle. As he broke left to seed the winding drive with botanical land mines, Luna turned towards the wide steps leading to the double front doors.
Abruptly, the ground shook with earthquake intensity. Luna dropped to a crouch just in time to avoid losing her footing entirely as the sound waves assaulted her entire body. Had the Death Eaters enchanted the very trees in the Forbidden Forest to do their bidding? Such was her first panicked thought as tall, hulking silhouettes materialized not ten feet away.
Her second thought was even more disconcerting: Giants! Their feet were as large as the boats in which the first years were ferried across the Black Lake!
Her ant-like insignificance before these behemoths hit Luna with a rush of adrenaline. She scampered back against the wall of the castle as a huge section of the stone balustrade was ripped as it if was no more than a lacy fringe. To her right, the flagstones had been churned to resemble a mass of enormous cracker crumbs.
The smoke hung heavily here, making it difficult to see her way through the swirling mass. A decapitated head practically leapt at her from the murky darkness. She recoiled in disgust even as she recognized that it belonged to one of the decorative gargoyles that had once lined the battlements. At the sound of approaching thunder, she instinctively ducked behind it only to come face-to-face with a drawn wand.
“Declare yourself!” hissed a low, menacing voice.
Two slow blinks of her eyes and the fog cleared enough to reveal the rough outline of Seamus.
“It’s me, Luna,” she whispered back then nearly tripped as he brusquely caught her by the arm.
“Shhhh!” Seamus warned in a husky whisper. “There’s someone up above. I heard the hinges moaning lowly as if they were trying to avoid notice. I sent Ernie over to the other side to catch them.”
“How many?” Luna pondered aloud.
“Dunno. Don’t attack if we’re outnumbered,” Seamus cautioned.
In a landscape gone insane, Luna considered themselves lucky when only three grayish figures materialized like ghosts. A shiver overtook her as the temperature seemed to plummet.
“It’s hopeless,” Seamus moaned into her ear. “We’ll never coordinate an attack to take all three at once.” He lowered his wand and sank to his knees in despair.
Luna’s first instinct was to join him. To commiserate about the utter unfairness of life in general. But in the next instant, the pieces fell into place.
“Don’t give in!” she urged lowly as she attempted to hoist Seamus to his feet. “All is not lost. It’s just dementors.”
Luna angled her wand away from the unidentified figures. Then trusting in her control of the Patronus Charm, she issued a silvery umbrella to block the worst of the debilitating effects without revealing their hiding place. As if waking up from a deep sleep, Seamus scrambled to his feet.
“Let’s follow them. Rendezvous with Ernie and then take them down all at once.”
Nodding in response to his improvised plan, Luna watched the shadowy figures work their way down the steps and head in the direction of the forest. Zig-zagging between the giants’ onslaught, she and Seamus followed silently until they were caught short by a dark shadow rising before them. Luna recognized Ernie’s agonized face awash in dementor-induced stupor.
“It’s just dementors, mate,” Seamus breathed in an upbeat manner. “Nothing we haven’t seen before.”
Still holding the silvery Patronus pointed at their feet, Luna coaxed the shimmering mist to envelope Ernie. It was like watching a statue come back to life.
“We’re tailing them,” Luna nodded to the retreating figures. “We’ll never catch up if we lose sight of them in this mess.”
“Don’t stupefy them, though,” Ernie cautioned as he fell into step. “That’s Harry, Ron and Hermione. I caught enough of their words before they raised a Privacy Charm.”
Without warning, a wall of glacial air blocked their advance. As the smoky mist thickened in response, the fuzzy outlines of the figures were consumed in the swirling soup.
“Quick,” Luna prompted. “It’s not as if we haven’t practiced this for Neville.”
The image of those companionable training sessions allowed her to find a micron of peace within her mind. Concentrating on the memories of her mother reading her a bedtime story and then, more recently, her father dancing with her at Bill’s wedding, a bounding hare shot from the tip of Luna’s wand. With scarcely a glance it bounded off, the muscles of its powerful hind legs detailed enough to ripple convincingly.
“For Harry once again,” Ernie breathed.
In quick succession, Patronuses in the shape of a boar and a fox dashed after the rabbit-sized break in the smoke. Luna issued a tentative smile as she took a deep breath for the first time in what seemed like hours.
A few words of encouragement for Harry and friends and Luna’s group turned back towards their assigned posts. Deliberately ignoring the trailing spells, Luna’s eyes soon adjusted to the gloom as she picked her way carefully. Luckily, the giants had moved towards the tall towers on the far side of the castle so the approach to the front steps was not as harrowing as before.
Turning towards her left, she noticed the dark stairs leading down to the boat grotto. Had anyone remembered to check that?
Seeing her wide-eyed alarm, Seamus volunteered, “I checked that first. Iron grate is safely padlocked. Nothing could get through there.”
“What about something without shape?” Ernie worried.
“Incorporeal, like a ghost?” Luna clarified. “Not much of a threat there. Even Peeves has mass despite popping in and out of view.”
Seamus nodded sharply. “To be perfectly honest, I was more worried about an invasion via flotilla, rather like Operation Overlord…” His voice trailed off as he caught the others’ quizzical looks. “You know, like when the Allied troops stormed the beaches of Normandy.”
“Muggle warfare techniques,” a sonorous voice acknowledged. “Now wouldn’t that be ironic?”
They started and turned as one towards the impenetrable shadows along the castle wall. A darker patch detached itself from the stone and advanced upon them slowly. There was no mistaking the thin silhouette of a drawn wand in long, white fingers.
The three froze as they waited for the hawklike nose of Severus Snape to emerge from the gloom. It was with a sigh of relief that the swirling darkness resolved itself into Black Watch tartan instead.
“Come,” Professor McGonagall beckoned them towards the same featureless expanse of stone. The strange echoes deepened her voice to be practically unrecognizable, but the Scottish burr was distinctive. “We need to regroup inside before the other side presents its next set of demands.”
“What about the others?” Ernie dared to glance worriedly over his shoulder.
“Those who are still fighting will have to fend for themselves, I’m afraid,” the Deputy Headmistresses returned tremulously.
Luna made as if to protest as the graceful silhouette of Lupin dancing among the firefight rose unbidden in her mind. So like a butterfly, she had last seen him for only a split second as she neared the greenhouses. Drawn to the flame, she mused with a sinking heart as she allowed herself to be herded with the other two.
A circular movement of McGonagall’s wand arm and a portion of the wall before them sprang to life. Within moments, the stones had rearranged themselves to reveal a hidden entryway. A single smoldering brazier outlined the skeleton of a spiral staircase leading upward.
“What are you waiting for?” Up close, McGonagall’s voice returned to its familiar brisk brogue. “Teachers have been using this secret access for centuries.”
Once past the doorway, the stones closed smartly behind them. McGonagall started up the curving steps only to realize that no one was following. Adjusting her square-framed glasses more firmly on her nose, she turned to regard the students huddled at the base of the stairs.
“Did something happen? You three are looking very pale all of a sudden.”
Seamus gulped, the sound magnified within the narrow passage. Ernie cleared his throat with a reverberating echo then supplied, “We thought you were the Headmaster for a moment.”
“Totally unnerved us,” Seamus admitted rather sheepishly.
“Were you doing something you shouldn’t have been?” McGonagall countered.
“Perhaps to his way of thinking,” Luna posed. “We were watching for Slytherins trying to sneak back in.”
“I see,” McGonagall replied. “An assignment from Kingsley Shacklebolt I take it.”
Luna nodded eagerly. “We left the Great Hall right behind Professor Lupin.”
A shadow seemed to flitter across McGonagall’s face, but it was gone in an instant as her lips pressed into a thin line. “Well, you may rest assured Severus Snape has resigned his post as Headmaster. I am once again assuming the duties of Acting Headmistress.”
“Always in times of crisis, eh?” Seamus commented.
“Is that meant as a derogatory remark, Mr. Finnegan?”
“No, Madam Headmistress,” Seamus backpedaled in the wake of her formality.
“Your presence is a great comfort to us, Headmistress,” Luna issued beatifically and was rewarded with a crisp nod.
“If I may be so bold,” Ernie ventured, “what prompted Professor Snape’s…er, departure?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Seamus snapped. “He went to join his master.”
The Headmistress’ mouth curled into a measured smile. “That and Professor Flitwick’s accusation that he’d committed murder in order to assume his predecessor’s position. Now, no more dawdling!” she commanded, allowing them to precede her up the winding staircase.
Another slice of McGonagall’s wand and they emerged into a ground floor corridor. An avalanche of boulders was all that remained of the familiar dungeon staircase. Through the open doorway to Firenze’s classroom, Luna glimpsed the mighty centaur lying on his side. A huge red gash on his pale flank was being tended by Madam Pomfrey as Hagrid hovered in the background. She took a step closer as the magic within faltered. The illusion of tree trunks rimming a forest glen became gossamer thin as the stark outline of a partially collapsed wall peeked through. Beyond that, the vague contours of the Great Hall showed that it was teaming with persons darting to and fro.
“He’s well-taken care of,” McGonagall soothed as her firm hand directed Luna to another classroom. “But if it’s Slytherins you’re after, we found these two who doubled back before they even reached the tunnel to Hogsmeade. Isn’t that right, Mr. Malfoy?”
“I don’t have to answer your questions,” Draco spat from where his long body was folded into an ornate chair. He struggled against the magical ropes which held him securely in place. “You have no authority here.”
McGonagall sighed. “If that’s what you wish to see with your narrow-minded view of the world.”
“So we’re prisoners!” Gregory Goyle bristled from similar restraints. “Won’t change the outcome.”
“Just perhaps your ability to enjoy them, Malfoy!” Seamus railed from the doorway, intent upon getting a measure in return for his best mate’s incarceration in the Malfoys’ dungeon.
Inexplicably, McGonagall motioned for only Luna to enter the room.
Remembering the arrogant posturing she’d endured while being questioned at Malfoy Manor, Luna kept her body as still as possible. “Perhaps, it’s just time we returned your hospitality,” she tendered in a delicate voice.
Draco scowled as he turned his face away deliberately.
“I’m not certain I follow,” McGonagall protested.
“Draco’s just being modest,” Luna explained in her ethereal manner. “His family was kind enough to have me for Yuletide. Eagerly fetched me from the Hogwarts Express while it was still en route. I’m not certain they informed Father in the kindest manner, though...”
“You’re a loony bird!” Draco retorted. “Did you see a single Christmas decoration in our home?”
“That’s true,” Luna allowed calmly. “They seemed to have forgotten the adornments in their enthusiasm. I initially thought we would hang them all together, but they seemed to observe different customs. Such a beautiful house, though. Could’ve used a spot of color.”
“I doubt my mother would take kindly to decorating tips from the likes of you!” Draco fumed.
“Ha!” Goyle intimated darkly. “Can you just see the Dark Lord among fir boughs and mistletoe? Your Aunt Bella might have enjoyed the possibilities of holly, though.”
“My aunt’s twisted imagination is none of your concern,” Draco issued out of the corner of his mouth.
“I tend to agree with Luna.” McGonagall’s tone was that used to exchange pleasantries about the weather. “Abandoning your family traditions will just make you feel that much more isolated from your fellow man. Have you stopped to think that this may have been your Dark Lord’s intent?”
“Is this really the time for philosophical ramblings, woman?” Draco groused.
“Perhaps not,” the Headmistress returned evenly. “Those musings would have been better employed before you decided to join their ranks. You are one of them aren’t you, Draco?”
Draco huffed and met her eyes defiantly.
“Very much so,” Luna replied in his stead. “His father was quite proud of the Dark Mark on his son’s forearm. A matching set, I’d say. Mother was a bit more ambivalent, though.”
“How dare you speak of my mother in such a familiar manner!” Draco enjoined.
“She was a guest in your home, wasn’t she?” McGonagall pressed.
“Until Easter,” Luna confirmed.
“She wasn’t a guest!” Draco clarified. “The guest rooms are upstairs; Luna was housed with the other vermin in the dungeon.”
“Not so,” Luna maintained as she leaned over to address the Headmistress directly. “Peter Pettigrew would’ve been my roommate if that were the case.”
Luna turned luminous eyes towards Draco as Ernie and Seamus dissolved into guffaws behind her. Even Goyle coughed to cover his snigger while Draco glowered.
The barest of smiles twitched at the corner of McGonagall’s mouth but she bit her lip to disguise it. “How very observant of you, Luna. What else can you tell us about Malfoy Manor?”
“The estate was very opulent but dreary at the same time. As if the lifeblood had been systematically drained from everything. Why even the stately peacocks who roamed the manicured lawn were as colorless as parchment.”
“They’re albino peacocks, you loon. Extremely rare and valuable.”
“I would say you were overcharged, then,” Luna insisted.
Just then Voldemort’s voice echoed from the very bedrock, setting the walls themselves to vibrate with his menacing message. He would suspend the attack for one hour to allow Harry to surrender himself.
“Come, we’ll meet with the others in the Great Hall. Or what’s left of it,” the Headmistress ushered them briskly down the hall once more. “Thank you all for drawing those two out. All they did when Professor Flitwick confronted them was to pull faces.”
“Where exactly did you find them?” Ernie inquired.
“And what about Crabbe?” Seamus proposed. “Aren’t they inseparable?”
Interchangeable even, Luna hummed to herself.
“Not far from the Room of Requirement,” McGonagall confided. “They were trying to convince the other side to accept their services. But since they’d managed to lose their wands, their pleas were summarily ignored. Prior to that, I was informed they tried to interfere with Harry’s mission for Dumbledore. Crabbe didn’t make it.”
“You mean he’s still at large somewhere in the castle?” Ernie asked eagerly.
“We’ll find him,” Seamus volunteered.
The Headmistress turned watery eyes in their direction. “I’m afraid you misunderstand. Vincent Crabbe set a trap for Harry and the others. He did not escape alive.”
“Blimey!” Ernie gulped noticeably. “What happened exactly?”
“They were ambushed in the Room of Requirement. Crabbe set off Fiendfyre to prevent them from reaching their objective and it raged out of control.”
“But we just saw Harry and the others…” Luna implored weakly.
“They managed to escape. Flying brooms, I believe. They were not able to get to Crabbe in time.”
“He set off a spell he couldn’t control…” Seamus considered with a frown.
“Always risky,” the Headmistress concurred. “More so within closed quarters with only one avenue of escape.”
“And the Room of Requirement, is it destroyed as well?” Luna pondered.
“We’ll have to see. Professor Flitwick is of the opinion that only that particular chamber will be useless. The room may even be able to heal itself. But none of us really understand the ancient magic that created it when the school was founded.”
“Ginny!” Ernie remembered with a jolt of panic. “We left Ginny behind guarding the room!”
“Don’t get yourself worked up --” the Headmistress began.
“I didn’t see Ginny file out with the rest of the Gryffindors,” Seamus worried.
“She would’ve had to vacate the Room of Requirement before Harry and the others could call up a different chamber,” Luna reasoned.
“And I doubt Harry would’ve allowed her to re-enter with the rest of them,” McGonagall answered knowingly.
Luna took in the rapt faces turned in her direction, the midnight blue carpet all but eclipsed by the brightly colored pajamas and dressing gowns of her housemates. She had lost herself in the retelling of her experiences and suddenly felt a bit weary.
“The rest of the story’s common knowledge,” Luna concluded. “Harry fooled everyone into thinking he was dead and then was able to defeat Voldemort. Ginny, Hermione, and I traded a few spells with Bellatrix Lestrange until Molly Weasley showed herself to be a superior duelist.”
“But you confronted the evil Alecto-lizard right here in this very room!” Quincie insisted.
“Near the base of Rowena Ravenclaw’s statute, yes,” Luna admitted. “But all I did was Stun her. The same spell that’s taught in elementary Defense lessons. And it’s hardly brave to shoot from under an Invisibility Cloak. Rather an unfair advantage, I would say.”
“So now you want us to believe you’re a coward?” Confusion from an unrecognized face in the crowd.
“Not exactly. A coward would’ve trembled under the stairs. Waited for the debris to stop falling about his head before checking himself over to see if he was dead or alive.”
Lots of nervous giggles.
“That’s just plain stupid.” Luna recognized Leigh’s serious eyes gazing up at her intently.
“Would’ve made more sense to evacuate when they had the chance,” Stewart noted dryly.
“Many did. But make no mistake about it: bravery and valor are for dead heroes. The survivors will tell a different story if they’re honest with themselves. War is the worst nightmare you could ever imagine. Death facing you with every breath. It doesn’t matter if you’re right or honorable. There’s no sense of pride if you win. Death comes in a completely random manner.
“It’s nothing but a gruesome playing field. Where’s the honor if you go into battle to prevent atrocities, yet your survival requires that you commit the same heinous acts? And if you don’t survive, the enemy’s abuse will continue unabated. It’s survival at the basest level. Scratching in the dirt for subsistence much as cavemen once did.
“Crude clubs, long-distance bombs or complex magical incantations: what’s the difference? Finding more sophisticated methods of annihilation doesn’t make us more advanced. It just allows us to fool ourselves into thinking we’re civilized. War tears away the mask and exposes everyone as a savage.”
She paused to catch her breath as the tears threatened to clog her throat. At some point in her narrative, she had risen to her feet and was suddenly feeling drained. Without warning, Luna’s legs gave way and she sat heavily on the squashy chair behind her.
“Here,” a small tentative hand reached up and offered her a foil package. “Chocolate always makes everything better.”
“Thanks,” Luna mumbled as she undid the wrapping with unsteady fingers. A single nibble of the frog’s webbed foot made her feel that her humanity was returning.
“Seems to me it takes a fair bit of courage to tell a truth your audience isn’t prepared to hear,” Flitwick’s squeaky voice issued at Luna’s elbow.
She graced her Head of House with a gentle smile as he broke off a chunk of the chocolate frog she offered him. Dumbledore’s blue eyes blinked back at them as if holding back tears of his own.
“It seems as if everyone is scrambling headlong to get their lives back on track after last year’s derailment,” she observed into Flitwick’s compassionate eyes.
“Albus would have surely issued a hollow chuckle at your wording, my dear,” he confided lowly.
“How so, Professor?”
“Why your use of the term ‘derail.’ The man had a fascination with trains of all kinds since he was a wee lad.”
They shared a sad smile as they permitted a few heartbeats of silent remembrance for the greatest wizard either one of them had ever known. Then they allowed the heady boisterousness of the common room to consume their attention once more.
As Ron posted an extra Quidditch tryout notice on the bulletin board in the Entrance Hall, Luna couldn’t help but wonder how Harry was faring so many miles to the south. Hermione’s assurances that the exclusive retreat was huddled among the rugged Grecian coastline ignited Luna’s vivid imagination.
Without much difficulty, she could envison Ginny in a diaphanous gown of pure white, the steady wind whipping at her long skirt. The golden circlet around her fiery hair bestowed the look of a sun goddess in the warm sunlight. How fitting when heliopaths were said to have originated in the untamed Greek peninsula. Returning to her dormitory after supper that evening, she dashed off a quick owl to Harry to alert him of the prime opportunities for exploration in regions she had always longed to see for herself.
Harry had not been long in responding.
Dear Luna,
The land is just as wild and unkempt as you have pictured it. From my veranda, I can see the ocean waves lapping ceaselessly at the porous rock that makes up much of the seashore. It’s not difficult to imagine that Titans once tread these very cliffs, their giant footsteps carving out indentations in the uneven terrain. It’s rumored that merpeople populate a bottomless grotto nearby, but the undercurrent can be dangerous so I stick to sandcastles in the surf.
Manticores no longer breed among the sea rocks; too many tourists, especially Muggles, took care of that. The Greek Ministry has set aside an Unplottable island as a manticore preserve, but visits are only allowed from afar and require all sorts of special permits.
The sole ruins nearby are atop a headland that can only be reached by a trail that snakes among the boulders. Rather like finding one’s way amid the spikes of a prehistoric dragon, or so my counselor puts it. It’s become Ginny’s favorite picnic spot even though we often have to shout to be heard above the wind. No one’s near enough to overhear snatches of conversation anyway. I suspect that sunsets on this spot must be truly glorious, but the treacherous footpath demands that we return while the sun is still high in the sky. With the uncertain crosswinds, Apparition is not recommended near the sea coast.
I know you’ll be disappointed to learn that the ruins are not those of an ancient temple but rather those of a lighthouse dating from the time of the Venetian Republic. Still, it’s not difficult to imagine that the ocean is just as much a cruel deity as the Hellenic gods described. And the only thing fiery about Ginny is her temper, but I try not to invoke that if I can help it.
I’ve not found any traces of heliopaths so far. Ginny and I often play Quidditch with some of the local lads so I will scour what I can of the neighboring areas from the air. The mountain caves that you mention are far to the north and are renowned for chimaeras -- but they’re miles beyond the horizon even from astride my broom. I quite agree that the remoteness of that region could harbor many secrets known only to the intrepid mountain goats which inhabit the highest reaches. (Ginny recommends not sharing that with Aberforth unless you’re looking for an unconventional travel partner of your own.)
Despite the undisputed majesty of the countryside, I find myself missing the sloshy days of autumn rain at Hogwarts. As the first of September came and went, I couldn’t deny the pull of King’s Cross Station. Just as last year when I was holed up with Ron and Hermione in that humorless townhouse at Grimmauld Place, my thoughts often turn to the familiar rituals that were once such a welcome part of my life. No matter how far and wide I may roam, Hogwarts will remain my first, true home and its inhabitants my dearest and closest friends.