In which Luna and Remus reflect.
WARNING: Mention of an obscure character's suicide attempt this chapter. This one is borderline PG-13 at parts, but not often.
Chapter Six: Interludes of a Looney and a Marauder
Luna paced the Room of Requirement.
It had become her sanctuary this school year. She remembered the secret from the DA, and always remembered to lock the door behind her before sitting on the rock overlooking the lake.
That was what she always turned the room into; the lake in her old home, the one they had had when her Mum was alive. The waters were a shining blue-green, the grass bright and healthy, and her rock as hard and firm as it had always been.
Her rock... that had been where she had gone after her mother had died. Whenever she had felt sad or lonely, she would sit on her rock and just remember. Remember her mother reading her stories, or singing her songs, or playing games with her, or tucking her in, or kissing her goodnight. The good times.
She didn't like to remember the bad. When her father had gotten depressed. When he had been drunk and hit her. When he had tried to commit suicide, and she had walked in to find him in a pool of his own blood. God, it had been a good thing she had studies Healing Charms.
And now she had more things to reflect on.
Why did no one else believe in Harry? She didn't even know him that well, and she could tell he was innocent. Even Ron and Hermione didn't believe her about their once-best-friend.
She had liked Ron once, but never again. She could never care about someone who could so easily believe lies about their friends... their near-adopted family. No, she couldn't.
And there was no one she could talk to about Harry. She could not think of one person who believed him innocent. She knew that if his Godfather was still alive he would have agreed with her, but Sirius Black had fallen behind the Veil in the Ministry of Magic...
She didn't really believe much in the Quibbler. The truth was, she was a bit of a solitary person, and had been since her mother's death. It was so much easier to get people to leave you alone when they thought that you were loony, or something odd like that. She could never keep track of all the names they called her.
Which was why it had been so odd for her to open up to Harry and tell him about her mother. Sure, it hadn't been much, but it had been something, something more than she usually said. And she didn't know why.
Maybe it was because of the similarities between them. Harry had just lost his father figure, and perhaps she had wanted him to know he wasn't alone.
Or maybe it was just... him. She had always thought that he had a sort of charisma, a sort of talent for making people at ease. She didn't think he really realized it, but he had a way with words that could make even the most pigheaded Slytherin stop and listen.
But if there was one reason she knew wasn't why, it was because he was the Boy-Who-Lived. She knew that there were few who fully understood that title, and she was one of them. he was the Boy-Who-Lived only because his parents were the Ones-Who-Died. He had lost so much to save the world, and in thanks, they shipped him off to the Dementors.
She knew though, in her heart of hearts, that he would get out somehow. After all, his Godfather was the only person to ever escape from Azkaban unaided. He would think of something, and when he had escaped, she would help him clear his name.
Clear his name... he shouldn't even have to. He had saved so many peoples lives so many times... He had saved her life. Her, Looney Lovegood, the one that everyone hated and no one liked. If he would save her, he would save the world.
And she had no doubt he could. He had rescued the Sorcerer's Stone in his First Year, defeated the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets in hers, and lived to tell the tale of Voldemort in her third.
Now, in her fifth year, her OWL year, he was persecuted. But she would never believe the lies, the slander those fools wrote about him. They believed in the Minister who had lied about Voldemort's return for a year instead of a boy they had known for five and a half.
She sang under her breath. It was a song that her mother had always sung her. She had sung it over the years whenever she was feeling stressed, or things weren't going well. Now was certainly one of those times.
"Fare thee well
My one true love
I'll be gone for a while
I'm goin' away
But I'll be back
Though I should go ten thousand miles
The earth may crack
And the sea may burn
If I should not return
Fare thee well
My one true love..."
She wiped a stray tear away from the corner of her eye and sighed heavily. Classes would be starting soon. She would have to leave.
She exited the Room of Requirement, somehow feeling more at peace than she had been when she had entered.
Perhaps her inner demons would let her be for a while.
After all, the outer demons were torturing her enough.
Remus was pacing.
He didn't know what to think. At first, after hearing the confession, he had been so sure of Harry's guilt... So angry that it was probably a good thing his throat had been too tight to speak.
But now... Now, he wasn't so sure. What reason would Harry have to betray them? And there was Sirius. He had been innocent when Remus had thought him guilty, and he had never hated himself as much as he had when he had found out the truth...
And Sirius would have socked him one for believing that Harry could do something like that. Mel would have used some sort of hex on him. James and Lily would both have done things so horrible that he shuddered to think of them.
And Ari... Ari would look at him with those wide, blue eyes and tell him how disappointed she was, and he would feel worse than if she had even yelled or screamed at him.
But they were all dead. He was the only one left. And while that was what they would say and do if Harry was innocent, Harry was guilty.
Remus bit his lip. He had said under Veritaserum that...
Could Veritaserum be fooled? He didn't know. But he decided, right then and there, to find out, to set his mind at rest. He would find out if there was a chance that Harry was innocent.
Once and for all, he would know the truth.
Walking down the stairs, he entered the Black Library. If there was anything that could trick the Truth Serum, this is where it would be. Grabbing a few books, he settled down at a table and began to read.
Hours later, he stood up without warning, his face pale and his char crashing to the floor behind him. No...it couldn't be... could it?
Even if it was true, no one would believe him. No one would believe for one moment that a spell had been placed on Harry, a spell that forced him to tell lies under the Truth Serum. He wasn't even sure if he believed it himself.
The Ministry did run spell checks (A/N: Couldn't resist! Lol!) on every person they placed into custody so that they could be sure that they wouldn't harm anyone...
But the book that he had just closed a moment before had said the spell was passive. It lay dormant, almost impossible to find unless you were looking for it, until it reacted with Veritaserum in the blood stream.
He sat down in another chair with a thunk. Harry was innocent. He was positive of it. But no one else would want to listen. Even Ron and Hermione had absolutely no doubts about his guilt. He could tell with his heightened werewolf senses when he looked in their eyes. Everyone who had been at the trial, all of Harry's friends, were sure he was guilty.
Everyone who had been at the trial...
He remembered Luna Lovegood. Long blond hair, bright blue eyes. A kind girl, if a bit spacey. She had always struck him as the type to be more comfortable on her own than with others.
She had been at the Department of Mysteries. Harry had told Remus in a letter a few months ago, at the start of the summer, that she was becoming a good friend.
Her father had been at the trial. Remus knew him on sight as Editor of the Quibbler, and Luna hadn't been with him. Now that he thought of it, she hadn't been anywhere in the courtroom that day.
Why? Why wouldn't she go to the trial of one of her friends? He did not know. All he knew was that perhaps, just perhaps, there was someone out there who would believe him.
He knew what he had to do.
The next morning, he would set out for Hogwarts.
Luna, along with the rest of the school, was at breakfast when he came.
Everyone Fourth Year and above started to whisper as their former professor, Remus Lupin, walked into the Hall and straight to Professor Dumbledore, who stood with a bemused expression on his face. They whispered for a moment before Dumbledore nodded and Lupin turned to the Hall, eyes searching.
They lit, to her surprise, upon her, and he smiled and walked over. "May I please speak with you in private Miss Lovegood?" he asked softly. Still surprised, she inclined her head in a nod and stood to follow him out of the Hall, and, to her surprise, out of the main doors.
"Where are we going, Professor?" she asked, confused.
"Call me Remus," he said absentmindedly. "Just over here..." He led her to a tree by the lake and they sat down.
When he didn't speak, she asked him "What is it?"
He started and looked at her. "I'm sorry, Miss Lovegood, I spaced out for a moment there.." He sighed heavily. "Miss Lovegood, what do you think about Harry's guilt or innocence?"
Luna sighed heavily. Of course that was what he wanted to talk about. "I firmly believe in Harry's innocence, and whatever you say cannot change that."
To her surprise, a grin broke out over her ex-professors face. "I hoped you would say that."
She wrinkled her nose. "What?"
Lupin pulled a book out of his bag and opened it to a marked page. "This spell," he said, "I believed was used on Harry to force him to lie under Veritaserum in the way the caster wished. It wouldn't have been found in the Ministry inspection." She stared at him, uncomprehending, and he sighed. "I think he's innocent too."
She felt her eyes widen of their own accord. "Really?" she whispered.
He nodded. "Yes." He then sighed. "But, unfortunately, there's nothing we can do about it. Now what the Lord of Azkaban has returned, I'm sure you saw that in the paper, no one is allowed on the Isle that is not a citizen or specially admitted by the Lord, along with prisoners."
Her face fell. "So we can't do anything?"
He shook his head. "Nothing but wait, and know the truth." When she opened her mouth, he held up a hand. "Look, I agree with you fully, but no one else will."
She nodded with a heavy sigh. "All right, Mr. Lupin."
"Call me Remus. If you need anything, if anyone gives you trouble, just owl me, alright?" She nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry, Miss Lovegood, but I have to get back. I'll see you soon."
She nodded and called after his retreating back "It's Luna!"
The man in the grey mist sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He still had seen no one. For the millionth time, he wondered where the grey mist was. All he knew was that he was trapped in it. And for the millionth time, he had no clue.
He longed for a wall. Any sort of wall, that didn't make him feel so out in the open. Something to bang his head against would be very nice right now.
She had had freckles. Not very many, but a band across her nose marring the pale skin that never seemed to tan. He had counted them so many times...When ever she got mad at him, he would count her freckles. She had twenty-seven.
It was odd, how he could still remember the small details, even after all the time that had passed. When she raised an eyebrow, her nose would wrinkle. Her laugh was like a tinkling bell. She had calluses on her palms, unlike the smooth ones you would expect from a pureblood. Her brother's name had been Brendan before he had died, and she had dedicated a song to him. When she sang, you could feel all the emotions in the words. No one could sing her songs like she could.
The bottoms of her ears were connected to the side of her head, not separate like his were. Her broom was a Nimbus 1000. Even though she was a Chaser, she could pull off a Wronski Feint even better than James. The red highlights in her hair sparkled in the sun. She hated her middle name, Elysybyth.
She always drank her coffee black. She liked peppermint tea best, with three spoonfuls of sugar and no milk or lemon. She liked raspberry syrup in her hot chocolate, and somehow always seemed to get it on the tip of her upturned nose only to giggle when he licked it off and tell him "Ewe! That's so gross!" She never stopped him though.
God, he missed her so much. He could only think of his bad memories of her in Azkaban, and once he had gotten out, all of the good had overwhelmed him. He had wanted her by his side again...
He idly wondered if they had found her body yet. Voldemort had captured her fifteen years ago when he had fallen through, and they still hadn't found her body then. But there was no chance she was alive. The longest anyone had ever lived as Voldemort's prisoner was a year. She was gone.
And he probably would never see his love again.
A/N: I had the flu when I first wrote this... don't blame me if it sucks, I was probably delirious. :D