Numb {Luna Lovegood}

Numb

Its hard to get over the first death.

The bitter screams of the dying, and the harsh laughter of the one who committed the act. The cold, overwhelming chill that envelops you, and the sudden quiet when its all over.

Sometimes, Luna likes to think back on her times at Hogwarts that were the best she'd ever had, but eventually the memory comes back. The one day that she wasn't able to step forward. The one day she was too selfish to-

No. Calm, she needs to be calm.

She had stood in the classroom, clad in her robes, and surrounded by her classmates. The Carrows were grinning wickedly at the front of the class. Luna felt a hand grab her arm, and quickly she glanced behind her to see who it was.

Her features melted into a soft smile once she saw the person. It was her friend, a young girl also from Ravenclaw, that was beyond terrified. Her hands were shaking, and her face was pale. Her eyes skirted nervously around her, as though she was searching for an escape.

"Lydia? What's wrong? Have the Nargles been annoying you again? There's been a bad infestation of them in the common room lately, do you want me to go and get my turnip?"

The girl shook her head desperately, her eyes looking wild. Stepping closer, she dug her fingers into Luna's arm, whispering harshly into her ear. "It was me. They're going to- me! It was my fault, my fault, my fault!" Her voice rose to a piercing shriek on the last word, and the Carrows spun around quickly from their hushed conversation.

"Ms Nelson...? Do we have something to say? Of yes, oh yes, do tell, do tell dearie." Lydia shrank back into herself, eyes growing wide, and she shook her head wildly. "No, nothing to say? Are you sure dearie?" Professor Carrows sister stepped forward.

Luna stared curiously at her friend, ignoring the activity around her. What had Lydia meant? Was she talking about the Thestrals? Sure, they had all helped in releasing them into the Forest, but no one of them was to blame.

A hand grasping Lydia's arm soon shook her from her thoughts, as she saw Lydia began dragged to the front of the class by Professor Carrow. Closing her eyes, Luna waved her hand near her ear, determined that there were Nargles in her head, fuzzing up her brain.

"Now now Missy..." The female Carrow said menacingly to Lydia. "Twice one day! Tut, tut, tut....do you not know rules by now?" Her words were chopped, and not said in sentences properly, it was as if she had never learned to speak in anything but foul words.

Lydia no longer tried to get away. She was being held back by Professor Carrows brother now, and tears began to slowly trickle down her cheeks. Luna stared at the scene in front of her, unable to move as she tried to catch up to what was going on.

The female Carrows stared around the class, finally landing her gaze on another girl in Slytherin, a usual one that the Carrows chose to do their dirty work. Professor Carrow beckoned with a finger at the girl, grabbing her shoulders as she came near, and saying into her ear, "You know what to do."

Professor Carrow then let the girl go, who nodded determinedly, facing Lydia, while the rest of the class stood in anxious wait. Luna was a few seconds behind, her confusion and headache lending to how she seemed to be behind on everything.

The girl raised her arm strongly, the side of her face that the class saw was strong, yet fearful. She had a tear glistening in her eye.

"Avada kedavra!"

Her voice didn't crack or break as green light flooded the classroom.

Luna stood, shocked for a moment at how quickly it all had escalated. Her mind struggled to connect the dots. Lydia was....dead? It couldn't be. Lydia, of all people? The young first year, with a bright smile and shy nature, who never got into trouble? It just wasn't possible.

Eventually, she caught up to the run of events. Ignoring the arms of others trying to hold her back as she calmly walked over, she collapsed onto her knees by her friends body.

No tears came to her eyes as she knelt there. She was numb, she had never been this numb before. She remained unaware as the make Carrow grabbed her and began to pull her from the room.

She remained numb as Headmaster Snape ordered one of the Death Eaters to bring her down to the dungeons.

She remained numb as she was hit with a belt, over and over, cries of agony coming from her mouth with each blow.

But she was still numb.

Luna was left there, bleeding and bruised, tears finally falling from her eyes, though she barely noticed them. She was struck with the memory of her mothers death. The slow passing from life into....something more. Or maybe something less.

She closed her eyes blankly. The image was still there. Lydia. Young, fresh, happy. Dead, cold, unmoving. The two didn't add up. It couldn't be true.

Of all people in the world, Lydia should have been the last to go. She should have been there, living a long life, no restrictions, no Death Eaters, no Voldemort. Lydia was too pure. Too kind.

Luna let her head fall back as the tears fell more now. The realisation of what had happened...she was gone. Lydia was gone.

Luna let her mouth open with a gasp, the cold seeping in through her robes, her eyes opening properly, and a new, overwhelming wave of grief passed over her. She curled up into herself, feeling every but as young and helpless as she had when her mother passed away.

When her father had stared blankly at the coffin, and turned away mechanically, doing it more from feeling he had to than actual want. He hadn't said a word to Luna, who was young, too young to know what was going on.

She curled up in a corner as she did in the dungeon, her hair straggled and riddled with knots, her face streaked with tear tracks. Her father hadn't come out of his room in five days, and she hadn't moved from that spot.

She was starving, cold, and unknowing as to how to fend for herself. She felt the same way as she did when she was a young child then, when she was huddled up in the dungeons of Hogwarts, no food, no company, and no way to fend for herself. In fact, now that she thinks back on it...

She had never felt properly safe since the day her mother died.

(AN: thoughts?)