Yours, Luna Lovegood

The Calm

Harry, Luna, Hermione, and Sirius remained in the Rook's Defense Chambers through mid-afternoon, carefully observing Harry's pronunciation, wand movement, and timing. Aside from a quick run to the kitchen for sandwiches, their attention was devoted exclusively to perfecting Harry's execution. By three, he must have cast Expecto Bellator flawlessly two hundred times.

Convinced there wasn't any room for improvement, they decided together to head back to Harry's home and await Dumbledore's arrival.

***

Dumbledore was sitting on the far leather wingback in Harry's living room when they arrived. He was sipping tea, lost in deep thought. His eyebrows were furrowed, gravity haunting his aged features.

"Ah." He stood as they entered. "I hope you'll forgive my early arrival. Given the nature of our recent communication, I fear we shouldn't waste a moment. Ms. Granger, Ms. Lovegood — it's always a pleasure."

Sirius lifted his Disillusionment charm.

Albus smiled warmly. "Sirius. Thank you for your note. Though I feel some apprehension when you leave the safety of your home, in this case I'm certain it was the right decision."

Sirius gave a half-nod. "Thanks for coming, Albus. We need your help, actually on more than one front."

For nearly an hour they discussed Luna's vision. Dumbledore followed her every word carefully. Initially he asked her for a full, uninterrupted telling of the vision, requesting that she include every detail she could recall. After a first account, he then worked with her scene by scene, asking dozens of questions about each. As Luna recounted the Wizengamot trial a second time, the nature of his questions shifted distinctly. He asked for detailed descriptions of each wizard in Luna's field of vision, their most distinctive features, whether they seemed angry, afraid, or elated. He asked especially about the expression he was wearing, and that of Harry's. He asked how Harry was bound, and to what.

Finally, Dumbledore admitted he could think of no further questions. He then drew the tip of his wand to his temple, withdrawing a silvery wisp of a memory and depositing it in a small glass vial for later recollection.

The conversation shifted as Hermione recounted the plan that she, Luna, and Harry had developed, and what they'd done to prepare.

"My." He reflected, smiling kindly with gentle pride. "In my many years as an educator of young witches and wizards, I've never been so impressed."

Hermione tucked a chestnut curl behind her left ear, positively beaming.

"I dare say your plan is flawless. Perfectly executed, it will accomplish what you seek."

His brow furrowed. "Death, indeed in any form, is sincerely regrettable. Dark creatures like these, however, have become themselves blind instruments of death, and are perhaps beyond redemption."

He paused, just briefly. After a moment, he returned his kind gaze to the children. "Considering accounts of the Thracian Sorcerers in the Byzantine War was a stroke of sheer brilliance. I'm pleased to hear of Harry's recent mastery of the spell. If I may, I'd like to lend my support in the fabrication of the Tutela Animea ward. This will be my ninth cast of this extraordinarily useful protection, which is to say my eighth opportunity to learn from my many mistakes."

Elated, they agreed immediately. This was the one aspect of their plan which they had no direct influence over, and they'd learned mid-morning that Sirius, who was certainly willing to try, had very little experience casting wards in his past.

They'd just started discussing the potion when Luna noticed steaming pots of Beef & Ale Stew had appeared on the dining table, surrounded by baskets full of crusty bread and plates of butter.