In the Arms of an Angel, Chapter 4
Harry shifted aside a stack of papers and various odds and ends that had been strewn about the double bed, so that he could sit down. His leg was beginning to throb painfully. His head felt like he’d rammed it into a wall… oh, wait; that did happen. He rolled his eyes. Luna asked in an excited voice, “Did he really have fangs? Do you think that he was a vampire?”
Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. He was terribly strong for a normal person. I just wish that I had been able to check on Nathaniel and Stephen before I left, but Cherry seemed in a rush to get me out of there once she found out who I am. I’m not sure how much she knows, since vampires are legal citizens and all. Muggles here might be allowed to know about magic.”
Luna said solemnly, “In 1985, the state of Massachusetts officially recognized witchcraft as a religion, known as Wicca. Both male and female followers are referred to as witches, and many of them seem to be either Squibs or Muggleborns, although they don’t always know it. They do use wands on occasion but merely as a focus in ceremonies. They do seem more likely than most to practice wild magicks…” For Harry’s benefit, she added, “Wandless magic is more difficult to learn, but not all witches in the United States have access to magical institutions of learning. Many of the families that send their children to the Salem Institute are of mixed magical heritage, so the laws concerning magic done in front of Muggles are less strictly enforced here. The consensus seems to be that American Muggles do not believe that true magic exists and instead assume that it is a clever illusion or a form of prayer.”
Harry asked, “Like the stage magician at Dudley’s fifth birthday party?”
Luna nodded, pleased. “I believe that your new friend Cherry may either be a self-taught witch or knows people in the Wizarding world. Ever since the end of your fifth year, it has been difficult to prevent a sort of bleed-through effect concerning the knowledge of magic. The fact that vampires are given rights as Undead Americans and that witches have a loosely organized religious structure should be indicators of a shift in public perception.”
Harry fiddled with the card, flipping it over again. He asked abruptly, “Do you think we’ll be staying in town much longer?”
She considered for moment whether to tell Harry the truth, and then exhaled, “My father has been granted permission to interview the Master on one condition: the vampire would like to meet you as well.”
Harry thought for a moment that she had said that a very powerful vampire had expressed interest in him. This could not be good. From the rumors going around the city of St. Louis, the current Master was a very calculating man. If he wanted to meet Harry Potter, then he would not be opposed to pulling out all the stops to reach his goal. Harry asked with trepidation, “Did your father agree to his request?”
Luna looked away. Harry touched her face gently, so that she would look him in the eye. She admitted, “He said that the Master could be very persuasive when need be. It is the custom here with vampires that all magical or supernatural beings must petition the Master of the City before entering his or her territory. We did not inform him that you would be accompanying us, and that was a much larger oversight than we had realized. Some master vampires would take that as a sign of disrespect and others as a threat. We must proceed carefully here. You were to attend a private meeting with him tomorrow night at his business, Guilty Pleasures. However, no one knew what had happened to you. We might be able to postpone the meeting, but I think you will be honor bound to see what he wants.”
Harry shrugged. “I’ll head over there tomorrow, but I am not really in the mood for playing head games with a master vampire.” He stretched out on the double bed, too tired and sore to worry about what the following evening might bring. He was surprised when Luna joined him on the bed and snuggled up to him. He tried not to notice how the thin material of her nightshirt clung to her willowy body. Nervously, he asked, “Luna, what are you doing?”
She yawned. “I’m going to bed,” she said bluntly, as it was quite evident what she was doing. She rolled over so that Harry was looking at the curve of her shoulder. When she did not say anything else or move for a few minutes, Harry was afraid that she had already fallen asleep and that her father would think ill of him.
“Luna, are you awake?” he whispered.
She rolled back over to face him and smiled. “I should hope so. I am talking to you. What did you want to discuss, Harry?”
Mumbling, he said, “Well, it’s just that there are two beds in the room. Shouldn’t you be lying on the other one?”
“I like this one.”
“Right. Then I’ll take the other one.”
“This one’s big enough.”
Harry tried to think of something appropriate to say, but his head felt fuzzy and strange. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but completely forgot was he was going to say… the next thing he knew, she was gently rousing him from sleep. He asked, groggily, “What are doing in my bed, Luna?”
She reminded him, “Cherry said that you would need to be awoken every hour due to your head injury. You’ve been out cold for about 45 minutes, and I got worried.” She gave him a sheepish grin. Then she gave him a playful shove. “Besides, I am not in your bed, Harry. It is you who are in mine. I don’t mind, though.”
Harry felt his face flush with embarrassment. He hastily pulled the blanket to cover his lower body, and realized that Luna was now studying him with a thoughtful look. “What are you thinking?”
“You should remove your jeans first. It does not seem very comfortable at all, and it is quite warm in Missouri.” Then, before he could respond, she began to tug at his trousers. “Please undo your belt, Harry.”
“No!” he shouted, embarrassed.
Luna patiently explained, “Your modesty is charming, but I need to see your leg.”
Harry continued to cling to her hands, trying to stop her from unbuckling his belt. “Please, don’t.” It wasn’t just that he had never undressed in front of a girl. During the past few days, he had waited until she was asleep to get ready for bed. It wasn’t as if he was able to fall asleep easily, anyway. Aside from the insomnia and nightmares, there was also the fact that her father was asleep next door and trusted him with his daughter’s honor. That alone would have kept him from making any advances on her, if he were a normal bloke who fancied her.
The problem was a bit more complicated than that. He couldn’t explain to her that he did not want anyone to see the scars on his leg, that it would make everything seem so much more real. He did not want to be reminded that he nearly bled to death during the battle, that he barely defeated Voldemort in time. If Hermione had not come upon him in time and stopped the bleeding, he would have joined his parents and Sirius. That did not shock him. What he did not want to think about was that he had wanted to die. For a brief moment, it seemed easier than dealing with the fact that he had been forced to kill a man. For a brief moment, he had been willing to embrace death, in order to be reunited with his family.
Harry had felt that once Voldemort had been defeated, there was nothing else for him to do, no purpose in his life. His friends would mourn him but eventually they would move on. He had no family, at least none that he cared to think about. They had deserted him, left him without protection just when he had needed it most. If Harry had to think about the scars on his leg, then he would have to remember everything else that had happened during the battle. He would have to think about seeing more people that he cared about lying dead, their faces frozen forever by a fatal curse. He would have to think of everyone that he had failed. He would have to think about Draco… and Ginny…
He shook himself. Luna would understand that much, at least. She had been Ginny’s friend, too, after all. Gently, he pried her hands off of his belt. He mumbled, “I don’t want you to see it, okay? I’m not ready yet.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Harry, I know that you want to pretend for a little while longer that you are fine, but I can see that you are in pain.”
He avoided her eyes. “It’s nothing. I just need physical therapy, apparently, and it will be right as rain in a few weeks…”
Luna sighed, “I was not talking about your leg.” She touched his cheek tenderly, and he had to hold still so that he didn’t flinch from her contact. No one should touch him with such obvious concern and adoration shining from their eyes. No one wiped his tears away when he was a child; why should he expect them to now? She said in a tired voice, one that he had never heard her use, “You have to let someone in, Harry. I know you blame yourself for…”
Harry cut her off. “Please, don’t. I don’t want to think about it, okay? Leave it alone,” he said. “I’m fine.”
Suddenly, she yelled, “Harry James Potter, you are not fine! I would respect your wishes and leave you alone to deal with your pain and guilt, if that is what you wanted, but you are not dealing with it. You are hiding from the world, but what hurts is that you are hiding from me. I understand how much you want to change what has happened, how much guilt you have swallowed, but punishing yourself will not bring Ginny back!”
Harry was speechless. She had temporarily knocked him flat on his arse, metaphorically speaking, with her outburst. It was then that he realized just how much she was hurting, too. “You should be helping the Weasleys mourn her, not making them worry about losing you as well.” She continued, not bothering to wipe her own tears away, “You don’t understand, do you? You’re letting him win, Harry. Tom Marvolo Riddle took away your childhood, took away your family, and took away the girl you loved. But it is you who allow him now to take you away from me, from beyond the veil. You did this to yourself, you did this to me.”
Suddenly he found his voice. “Luna, I’m sorry…”
She waved him away. “We did not let you die, but maybe we should have. Maybe then you would stop punishing us! Maybe if we had let you go, if we didn’t love you so much, then you would finally be reunited with your parents and Ginny, since that is all you seem to care about. Maybe we were selfish and wanted to keep you, at least for a little while longer,” she said in a breaking voice. She got up and walked towards the door.
Luna turned to Harry. “I guess that makes us the fools, Harry, the ones who love you, for forgiving you when you cannot forgive yourself. If you want to kill yourself, I will not stop you. I’m tired, so tired of trying to protect you from yourself,” Luna said with an air of finality. She flung open the hotel door.
Harry stood up unsteadily, ready to leave. She stopped him with a gesture. “You misunderstand. I’m leaving. You can wallow in your own guilt and self-loathing. I’m going to sleep with my father.” And then she was gone…
Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. He was terribly strong for a normal person. I just wish that I had been able to check on Nathaniel and Stephen before I left, but Cherry seemed in a rush to get me out of there once she found out who I am. I’m not sure how much she knows, since vampires are legal citizens and all. Muggles here might be allowed to know about magic.”
Luna said solemnly, “In 1985, the state of Massachusetts officially recognized witchcraft as a religion, known as Wicca. Both male and female followers are referred to as witches, and many of them seem to be either Squibs or Muggleborns, although they don’t always know it. They do use wands on occasion but merely as a focus in ceremonies. They do seem more likely than most to practice wild magicks…” For Harry’s benefit, she added, “Wandless magic is more difficult to learn, but not all witches in the United States have access to magical institutions of learning. Many of the families that send their children to the Salem Institute are of mixed magical heritage, so the laws concerning magic done in front of Muggles are less strictly enforced here. The consensus seems to be that American Muggles do not believe that true magic exists and instead assume that it is a clever illusion or a form of prayer.”
Harry asked, “Like the stage magician at Dudley’s fifth birthday party?”
Luna nodded, pleased. “I believe that your new friend Cherry may either be a self-taught witch or knows people in the Wizarding world. Ever since the end of your fifth year, it has been difficult to prevent a sort of bleed-through effect concerning the knowledge of magic. The fact that vampires are given rights as Undead Americans and that witches have a loosely organized religious structure should be indicators of a shift in public perception.”
Harry fiddled with the card, flipping it over again. He asked abruptly, “Do you think we’ll be staying in town much longer?”
She considered for moment whether to tell Harry the truth, and then exhaled, “My father has been granted permission to interview the Master on one condition: the vampire would like to meet you as well.”
Harry thought for a moment that she had said that a very powerful vampire had expressed interest in him. This could not be good. From the rumors going around the city of St. Louis, the current Master was a very calculating man. If he wanted to meet Harry Potter, then he would not be opposed to pulling out all the stops to reach his goal. Harry asked with trepidation, “Did your father agree to his request?”
Luna looked away. Harry touched her face gently, so that she would look him in the eye. She admitted, “He said that the Master could be very persuasive when need be. It is the custom here with vampires that all magical or supernatural beings must petition the Master of the City before entering his or her territory. We did not inform him that you would be accompanying us, and that was a much larger oversight than we had realized. Some master vampires would take that as a sign of disrespect and others as a threat. We must proceed carefully here. You were to attend a private meeting with him tomorrow night at his business, Guilty Pleasures. However, no one knew what had happened to you. We might be able to postpone the meeting, but I think you will be honor bound to see what he wants.”
Harry shrugged. “I’ll head over there tomorrow, but I am not really in the mood for playing head games with a master vampire.” He stretched out on the double bed, too tired and sore to worry about what the following evening might bring. He was surprised when Luna joined him on the bed and snuggled up to him. He tried not to notice how the thin material of her nightshirt clung to her willowy body. Nervously, he asked, “Luna, what are you doing?”
She yawned. “I’m going to bed,” she said bluntly, as it was quite evident what she was doing. She rolled over so that Harry was looking at the curve of her shoulder. When she did not say anything else or move for a few minutes, Harry was afraid that she had already fallen asleep and that her father would think ill of him.
“Luna, are you awake?” he whispered.
She rolled back over to face him and smiled. “I should hope so. I am talking to you. What did you want to discuss, Harry?”
Mumbling, he said, “Well, it’s just that there are two beds in the room. Shouldn’t you be lying on the other one?”
“I like this one.”
“Right. Then I’ll take the other one.”
“This one’s big enough.”
Harry tried to think of something appropriate to say, but his head felt fuzzy and strange. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but completely forgot was he was going to say… the next thing he knew, she was gently rousing him from sleep. He asked, groggily, “What are doing in my bed, Luna?”
She reminded him, “Cherry said that you would need to be awoken every hour due to your head injury. You’ve been out cold for about 45 minutes, and I got worried.” She gave him a sheepish grin. Then she gave him a playful shove. “Besides, I am not in your bed, Harry. It is you who are in mine. I don’t mind, though.”
Harry felt his face flush with embarrassment. He hastily pulled the blanket to cover his lower body, and realized that Luna was now studying him with a thoughtful look. “What are you thinking?”
“You should remove your jeans first. It does not seem very comfortable at all, and it is quite warm in Missouri.” Then, before he could respond, she began to tug at his trousers. “Please undo your belt, Harry.”
“No!” he shouted, embarrassed.
Luna patiently explained, “Your modesty is charming, but I need to see your leg.”
Harry continued to cling to her hands, trying to stop her from unbuckling his belt. “Please, don’t.” It wasn’t just that he had never undressed in front of a girl. During the past few days, he had waited until she was asleep to get ready for bed. It wasn’t as if he was able to fall asleep easily, anyway. Aside from the insomnia and nightmares, there was also the fact that her father was asleep next door and trusted him with his daughter’s honor. That alone would have kept him from making any advances on her, if he were a normal bloke who fancied her.
The problem was a bit more complicated than that. He couldn’t explain to her that he did not want anyone to see the scars on his leg, that it would make everything seem so much more real. He did not want to be reminded that he nearly bled to death during the battle, that he barely defeated Voldemort in time. If Hermione had not come upon him in time and stopped the bleeding, he would have joined his parents and Sirius. That did not shock him. What he did not want to think about was that he had wanted to die. For a brief moment, it seemed easier than dealing with the fact that he had been forced to kill a man. For a brief moment, he had been willing to embrace death, in order to be reunited with his family.
Harry had felt that once Voldemort had been defeated, there was nothing else for him to do, no purpose in his life. His friends would mourn him but eventually they would move on. He had no family, at least none that he cared to think about. They had deserted him, left him without protection just when he had needed it most. If Harry had to think about the scars on his leg, then he would have to remember everything else that had happened during the battle. He would have to think about seeing more people that he cared about lying dead, their faces frozen forever by a fatal curse. He would have to think of everyone that he had failed. He would have to think about Draco… and Ginny…
He shook himself. Luna would understand that much, at least. She had been Ginny’s friend, too, after all. Gently, he pried her hands off of his belt. He mumbled, “I don’t want you to see it, okay? I’m not ready yet.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Harry, I know that you want to pretend for a little while longer that you are fine, but I can see that you are in pain.”
He avoided her eyes. “It’s nothing. I just need physical therapy, apparently, and it will be right as rain in a few weeks…”
Luna sighed, “I was not talking about your leg.” She touched his cheek tenderly, and he had to hold still so that he didn’t flinch from her contact. No one should touch him with such obvious concern and adoration shining from their eyes. No one wiped his tears away when he was a child; why should he expect them to now? She said in a tired voice, one that he had never heard her use, “You have to let someone in, Harry. I know you blame yourself for…”
Harry cut her off. “Please, don’t. I don’t want to think about it, okay? Leave it alone,” he said. “I’m fine.”
Suddenly, she yelled, “Harry James Potter, you are not fine! I would respect your wishes and leave you alone to deal with your pain and guilt, if that is what you wanted, but you are not dealing with it. You are hiding from the world, but what hurts is that you are hiding from me. I understand how much you want to change what has happened, how much guilt you have swallowed, but punishing yourself will not bring Ginny back!”
Harry was speechless. She had temporarily knocked him flat on his arse, metaphorically speaking, with her outburst. It was then that he realized just how much she was hurting, too. “You should be helping the Weasleys mourn her, not making them worry about losing you as well.” She continued, not bothering to wipe her own tears away, “You don’t understand, do you? You’re letting him win, Harry. Tom Marvolo Riddle took away your childhood, took away your family, and took away the girl you loved. But it is you who allow him now to take you away from me, from beyond the veil. You did this to yourself, you did this to me.”
Suddenly he found his voice. “Luna, I’m sorry…”
She waved him away. “We did not let you die, but maybe we should have. Maybe then you would stop punishing us! Maybe if we had let you go, if we didn’t love you so much, then you would finally be reunited with your parents and Ginny, since that is all you seem to care about. Maybe we were selfish and wanted to keep you, at least for a little while longer,” she said in a breaking voice. She got up and walked towards the door.
Luna turned to Harry. “I guess that makes us the fools, Harry, the ones who love you, for forgiving you when you cannot forgive yourself. If you want to kill yourself, I will not stop you. I’m tired, so tired of trying to protect you from yourself,” Luna said with an air of finality. She flung open the hotel door.
Harry stood up unsteadily, ready to leave. She stopped him with a gesture. “You misunderstand. I’m leaving. You can wallow in your own guilt and self-loathing. I’m going to sleep with my father.” And then she was gone…