Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived

Chapter Twenty-Three - The End is in Sight

Chapter Twenty-Three: The End is in Sight

When the light broke over the horizon, Luna was already awake. She was sitting on the floor outside of Hermione and Ron’s tent, trying not to eavesdrop on the activities taking place inside. She coughed discretely, trying to catch Hermione’s attention without embarrassing either of them.

There was a loud noise and Luna could picture the scuffle that ensued. In her mind, she imagined Hermione struggling to get of bed, her legs trapped by the sheets. Ron was probably scrambling to pull on clothes, hopping around on one leg in his hurry. She smiled as she thought of the frantic actions. She had to laugh, quietly so they wouldn’t know, when she heard a crash followed by a muttered curse.

After a short time, Hermione’s face appeared at the tent flap. “Oh, Luna,” Hermione breathed, relief evident in her tone. “Merlin, I thought it was Harry.”

“Nope,” Luna chuckled. “It’s just me.”

“Not to be rude,” Hermione said snappishly, “but why are you here?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt anything,” Luna said apologetically. “I need your help.”

“Couldn’t it have waited until the others were awake?” Hermione asked peevishly. “We were…busy.”

“I know,” Luna acknowledged, “and for that, I’m sorry.”

Luna took Hermione by the hand and pulled her from the tent. They crossed the sitting room and did not stop at the doorway. Hermione struggled to keep up as Luna pulled her up the staircase. Hermione thought about asking Luna to go slower because her legs were sore, but she didn’t want to explain why they were sore, so she kept her mouth shut. Hermione was grateful when Luna finally stopped on the third level.

“Finally,” Hermione grumbled.

“I didn’t want to take the chance that anyone would hear us,” Luna explained. “I’m sorry about your legs.”

Hermione blushed furiously, stared at her feet, and said nothing.

“We don’t have much time,” Luna insisted. “Will you help me?”

“Of course,” Hermione replied, her cheeks still hot.

“I need to share something with you,” Luna told her quietly. “What you see cannot be shared with anyone else. You can only use the information to help you in your quest.”

“I don’t understand,” Hermione protested. “If I can’t tell anyone, what use is it?”

“You will understand soon,” Luna promised.

“If you say so,” Hermione muttered.

“Take my hands,” Luna instructed.

Hermione grudgingly took Luna’s hands. She was distinctly uncomfortable that she was not the one with all the answers. The sole reason she had placed her palms against Luna’s was that she trusted her implicitly.

Just as Hermione was opening her mouth to question Luna’s sanity, her world went blank.

Hermione shook her head. She blinked her eyes rapidly before rubbing them roughly. Luna was nowhere to be found. She had no idea where she was, but she knew she wasn’t in Grimmauld Place anymore. The only evidence that she wasn’t dead was a strange tingling in the palms of her hands.

She was in a dark, dank cell. She tried to light her wand to view her surroundings, but panicked when she realized her wand was gone. Suddenly, several overhead lights came on surprising Hermione.