EvannaLynchFans.com | Luna

THIRD PLACE WINNER:

Name: Pesto August
Story:

I dashed through the shadowed halls towards the seventh-floor corridor, clutching the hot DA galleon firmly in my hand. After several breathless minutes I finally reached the Room of Requirement, where Ginny clambered out from behind a vase and grabbed my hand, exclaiming, "Luna! Thank goodness you responded!"

She dragged me behind the vase, a hiding spot which was becoming very crowded.

"See, Ron?" Hermione snapped. "I told you Luna would come here, not to the Fat Lady!"

"Give it a rest!" he retorted.

I wondered why Ronald was holding a pair of old socks.

"Will you two please stop arguing so loudly? Someone might hear us!"

"Oh, hello, Neville," I smiled. I almost hadn't seen him, all pressed up against the wall.

"Hi, Luna," he replied, looking very pale indeed.

"Ron, you need to tell us what's going on right now,” Ginny demanded. “You too, Hermione."

"Aren't we doing a DA meeting?" I asked. "Where is Harry, anyways?"

"This isn't Dumbledore's Army, Luna," Hermione said, exasperated.

"Well, technically..." Ronald mused, but Hermione talked over him unabashedly.

"Harry's on a...mission with Dumbledore, and he suspects that Malfoy-- Draco Malfoy-- will let several Death Eaters into Hogwarts tonight, somehow using the Room of Requirement." She took a deep breath and added, "We’re not sure that's right, but Harry wants us to guard this corridor nevertheless."I suppose that makes sense. A bit different than the DA, but the general spirit is there.

"And I'll bet Harry also thinks Snape is up to something, right?" Ginny asked wryly.

Ronald nodded. "Yeah, so some of us will be hanging around outside Snape's office, too."

"Is that what we have to do? Make sure that Snape and Malfoy don't...act up at all?" Neville asked hesitantly.

"In a word," Hermione said. Neville swallowed and nodded grimly.

"Why are you holding a pair of socks, Ronald?" I asked, peering around Ginny's shoulder to look at the wad of fabric.

"The luck!" he exclaimed loudly, causing Neville to blanch terribly. Having discarded the socks, Ronald was now holding a miniscule bottle of golden liquid and was inspecting it carefully. "Listen, Hermione, there really isn't much in here."

"Felix Felicis is very powerful, and Harry should be back before daybreak," Hermione said, feigning confidence. "Everyone will drink just a couple drops right out of the bottle. I know it's not hygienic, but..."

She shrugged. Neville looked from her to Ronald and back again.

"What is Felix Felsus?"

"Felix Felicis," Hermione corrected. "It makes you lucky. Here, take a sip; I'm finished."

The bottle was passed around the circle, ending with me. As I drained the last of the liquid, a confident warmth spread through my veins.

"Right then," Ronald said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I figure we should have more people up here than down near Snape. Er...Hermione and Luna, will you go guard Snape's office, while Ginny, Neville, and I stay here and keep an eye out for Malfoy?"

Hermione glanced over at me, her eyebrows raised. I nodded; unlike Neville, I’ve never been frightened of Snape. He's surprisingly neutral towards us Ravenclaws.

"I do hope they're alright," Hermione said for the ninth time, pacing in front of Snape's heavy office door.

"We’ve all been through the Department of Mysteries," I replied. "Yes, but four people were seriously injured by the time the Order arrived-- do you hear footsteps?" she asked sharply.

I certainly did, but before I could assure Hermione of this, someone screamed, "SNAPE! SNAPE, THERE ARE DEATH EATERS IN HOGWARTS!"

Professor Flitwick skidded around the corner of the corridor and rushed into Snape's office, slamming the door behind him.

Hermione gaped at me and I raised my eyebrows. I wondered how the Death Eaters had gotten past everyone upstairs. Visibly shaken, Hermione bent down to the keyhole but straightened hastily as Snape suddenly burst out of the room, his robes billowing.

“Granger, what…?” he said through bared teeth. “Never mind…Flitwick has collapsed of over-exertion—tend to him.”

Hermione nodded fervently, looking quite petrified. Without another word, Snape swept down the corridor and out of sight.

"Were we supposed to let him go?" I asked.

"N-no, I d-don't think s-so," she stuttered fretfully. "What else could we have d-done, th-th-though?"

I shrugged and walked into the office. Hermione hesitantly followed me, closing the door lightly. I rushed over to Professor Flitwick, who was lying in front of Snape’s desk, unconscious.

"Is there any potion here we can use, Hermione?" I asked, twisting around to face her. She was standing stalk still, with her hands at her mouth. "I'll...I'll look, shall I?" she said, her voice unusually high. I checked Professor Flitwick's pulse as Hermione feverishly searched through the cupboards. Heliopath blood or Surshickler wings could have cured Professor Flitwick, but not many wizarding schools tend to stock--

BOOM.

Dust and pebbles fell from the ceiling as the sound resonated through the dungeon. Hermione screamed and dropped a vial, spilling powder everywhere. "What happened?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide with fear.

"Voldemort must be using East European Bivverlacks," I replied. "Bivverlacks spontaneously combust when threatened, then reassemble themselves within an hour.”

Hermione stared disbelievingly at me.

"I know, you'd expect complete regeneration to take much longer," I smiled. Hermione rolled her eyes but did not press the matter. We sat in silence for a few moments, then she burst out angrily, "I wish there was something we could do, a way we could help!"

"We can keep trying to cure Professor Flitwick. The Order could use his experience."

She nodded reluctantly and sighed. “C’mon and help me search the shelves.”

"Ron-- Dumbledore's dead."

The echo of Ginny’s words were shattered by Professor Lupin's cry of desperate disbelief. Before the full impact of Dumbledore’s passage could consume me, the din of my friends’ grief and confusion melted into a melodious noise, expressing an implacable emotion. Yet to label it an emotion seems mistaken, because the song was simply…losing Dumbledore.

I wonder if he’ll meet my mum.

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