Chapter Twelve

he Burrow Devon, UK. 0800 hours local time

Luna Lovegood woke up at 0800 hours on June 27, 1997 with a splitting headache. Don’t worry about it, Luna thought. It’s probably just a stress headache from the fact that Harry just gave me the nigh impossible task of “liaising with the press. She could handle the Quibbler reporters in the crowd, she’d grown up around them. But there was going to be reporters from Wizarding publications from across the UK, the Republic of Ireland, and around the world. It was going to give her a massive headache by the end of the day and she knew it. If, God forbid, her father was in the crowd, she didn’t know how either of them was going to handle the other. It was then that he heard someone rattling around in the kitchen.

Ah, Neville, your cooking breakfast for me, Luna thought. They always took turns cooking breakfast for the other when they slept with each other, which was practically every night. Only thing different about this morning, was that they didn’t actually do anything the previous evening. The battle had pretty much killed that for both of them. No, he just didn’t want to be alone with his nightmares, and his lover’s bed seemed to be the most appropriate place to go.

Ah, Neville, I know it’s hard on us, this life we’ve chosen, she thought to herself. But always know that I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, period. Then the smiling, handsome face of his beloved appeared in the canvas flap of the tent.

“Sweetheart, wake up,” Neville said. “I’ve got breakfast for us.”

“Coming,” she said, getting out of bed, getting dressed and walking over to the round table in her tents sitting room where two plates piled eggs with bacon and eggs waited. She sat down, and amazingly enough, to her at least, didn’t want to eat. Neither did Neville for that matter.

“How do you think Ginny’s doing?” She asked.

“She’s a strong woman, she’ll stand up to everything Lestrange can throw at her,” Neville responded. But Luna heard a faint “I hope,” under his breath. Luna understood his fear. Lestrange was an insane, evil mastermind. She had tortured Neville’s parents into a permanent catatonic state, as well as tortured and murdered countless others as well. And if Blaise Zabini was working, then Luna was seriously worried for their mutual friend,

It took a few minutes, but finally they found the strength to eat so she took a bite. They were quite good so they finally got into eating and talking about something else other than Ginny or the battle. Luna found herself talking about her first press conference as “official press liaison.”

“I’m going to hate this job, Nev,” Luna remarked. “I know it.”

”Why do you say that?,” Neville asked after he swallowed his food.

“Reporters, believe it or not, annoy me.” Luna said.

This remark clearly took Neville by surprise, “Are you sure your father’s a reporter and the managing editor of a tabloid?”

“I’m used to the Quibbler staff,” Luna said, picking at some egg. “They’re my friends. But there are going to be reporters from around the world out there, and they’re going to be howling me for answers. And God forbid, if my father’s out there…” she said, trailing off.

“I thought you were close to your father?” Neville said, taking a swig of orange juice.

“I am,” Luna said sadly. “But I’m unsure how he’ll react to us being together and me joining Dumbledore’s Army. He’s very protective of me, especially after my mother died. What if he disapproves of you, he might try to forcibly drag me home, away from the Army, away from you?” She sat there a moment, sobbing in her hands. Neville was beside her in an instant, wrapping her in his strong, comforting arms, kissing her forehead.

“You don’t honestly expect we’d let any parent drag a member away by force, let alone on of our highest ranking member, do you?” Neville said. “Especially here, in full view of our soldiers?”

Of course, how silly of me, Luna thought. They’d probably Stun him on the spot if he tried that; especially Neville.

“You’re right, Nev,” Luna said, smiling and kissing him. “Thanks.”

“Glad to be of service,” Neville said kindly. “Now let’s finish our breakfast and let’s go to work.”

“Yes, lets.” Luna said, picking up her fork. After breakfast, they walked out into the bright sunny day and over to Hermione’s tent to receive her prepared statement.

“Now, remember, Luna,” Hermione said, handing her the statement from across her kitchen table. “None of your usual ‘talking’ and don’t go off-topic please.”

This got on Luna’s nerves, though she understood why they didn’t trust her to do this. She entrusts me with her life, and yet she doesn’t trust me to write a press release? “You know, Hermione,” Luna began indignantly. “I don’t exactly act like that on duty, anymore. And I would think that I would be the one writing my official press releases, seeing how I’m the press liaison.”

“Your right, Luna,” Hermione said, sighing. “And if you read this without a hitch, I’ll have Harry turn the job over to you.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Luna said, relieved, and she and Neville exchanged salutes with Hermione and walked out.

“That’s a stroke of luck if ever I saw one,” Neville said as they left to get to their shifts. Luna had a conference to prepare for, and Neville was leading a patrol out into the surrounding area. She’d seen the map of the route last night and she knew it would take them within visual range of her house, but it shouldn’t be a problem if Luna wasn’t with them, or if her father wasn’t there.

“Well,” Neville said when they approached the back door to the Burrow; “This where we part.”

“Good luck out there, Sir” Luna said, saluting. Though part of her didn’t want Neville to stick his neck out in a potentially dangerous situation again, which manifested itself in a sudden urge to hug him and never let him go. But she didn’t say anything because this was the life they chose.

Neville returned the salute and said, “Stay safe, Luna,” and walked away.

“You, too,” Luna said under her breath, and walked inside.

A few hours later the reporters started arriving. A podium and microphone had been set up on the front steps for Luna to use; it was 1130 hours local time. The podium had wireless equipment to broadcast around the UK and the world. When it was 1200, the two door guards, Michael and Padma stood at attention and saluted when Luna walked out. As soon as she opened the door, she saw her father in the crowd, pen and parchment in hand, obviously confused and concerned that his daughter being there.

Oh, God, my father, Luna thought worried, and for a second she felt tempted to run back inside. No, Luna thought. Harry gave me a job to do, and damn it I’m going to do it! She rallied herself, returning the guards salutes and walking up to the podium.

“Good morning, everyone,” Luna said hesitantly, than with more confidence. “I’m Luna Lovegood and I’ll be holding this press conference. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I will try to answer as many I can without compromising security, but I do have a long, incredibly boring prepared statement to read.” The reporters laughed, just as Luna intended. She thought it would be a good idea to begin these things with a joke. It would serve to break the ice, and get everyone a little more trusting of her. Even her father laughed. Clearing her throat, she began, “Ladies and gentleman of the press, we are Dumbledore’s Army…” Luna read off the long statement, which was basically a treatise on the organization and its goals. At the end of it however, were questions Hermione had ordered her not to answer, nothing referring to exact numbers of personnel, equipment, or Draco Malfoy’s status as an enemy combatant.

“All right,” Luna said. “I’m willing to answer any questions you may have.” Several dozens hands rose into the air at once, including her father’s and Luna pointed at one at random, not her father’s though. “You,” Luna said.

“Jonathan Hunt,” a man with an American accent said, “New World Wizarding Times. Can you give us any details on the events in France yesterday evening which have been dubbed the Battle of Marseille? The French Ministry isn’t talking.”

“Of course I can,” Luna said. Inside, however, she seethed. Damn you, Hermione, why did you leave that out of the press release?

“We were guarding the wedding of Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley,” Luna said amicably. “We were on patrol when they Apparated in to the north of us. We moved to intercept them under one Ginny Weasley.”

“Ginny Weasley,” the Middle Eastern woman who had pointed out Harry last night whom Luna had learned was a correspondent for some Egyptian newspaper. “Wasn’t she one of the combatants at the Battle of the Department of Mysteries?”

“Yes,” Luna said. “And she was our leader during the battle until Harry arrived on the field. Unfortunately, we suffered seven wounded and Ginny Weasley was captured by You-Know-Who’s forces.”

This was of great interest to the reporters. The moment Luna dreaded arrived when Luna’s father raised his hand,

“James Lovegood, the Quibbler. Is it true Harry and Miss Weasley were romantically involved?”

“I’m sorry,” Luna said, “I can’t answer that.” It would seem to disrespectful to Harry and Ginny to just trot there romance out into the motion as a publicity tool. She also knew it was time to end these proceedings. “This press conference is over,” she said and walked over to the door guards as the reporters mumbled among themselves. “Michael, Padma, do you see the brown-haired, blue-eyed man in the crowd?”

Padma looked and said quizzically, “Yes, Sir. Why?”

“Don’t either of you let him leave,” Luna said. “I have something to tell him. Then she asked. “Has Neville returned?”

“No, Sir,” Padma said. “And he’s not expected for another thirty minutes.”

“Damn,” Luna said. “Well, bring him to the kitchen now.” They immediately left to intercept him.

“Excuse me, sir,” Michael said. “Luna wants too talk to you. If you’ll just come with us.” Luna’s father said nothing, just followed Luna, Padma, and Michael into the house.

“Luna,” Harry said, meeting them at the front entrance. “Good job, I’m turning writing of your press releases over to you. But what are you doing bringing your father in here?”

“Harry,” Luna said. “We live almost next door to the Burrow. I knew I was going to have to confront him about this situation since I stepped onto Weasley family property so many weeks ago. So please just let me handle it all right?”

Sighing, Harry, Ron, and Hermione let Luna escort him into the kitchen. Once inside, they sat down at the table and Luna began to talk.

“So, Dad, long time no see.” Luna said as amicably as possible.

“So, Luna,” her father asked. “How’ve you been doing?” Luna could here the sarcasm on his voice; “Why don’t you tell me what you were doing, sweetheart? I love you and thought you trusted me?”

“I do trust you,” Luna said. “Trust wasn’t an issue, secrecy was. We wanted to equip and train without Ministry knowledge or interference; you know how corrupt they are, with the Rotfang conspiracy and whatnot. We would than blow onto the scene with a major victory which would prove to everyone our skill and courage; which didn’t quite turn out the way we hoped.”

“That you made quite clear,” he said referring to the conference. They sat down in an uncomfortable silence until there was a knocking on the back door. Luna opened the door to Neville, and the patrol, who quickly grabbed and kissed her.

“Hi, honey,” Neville said when he let go. “Sorry I missed your big debut.”

“I know,” Luna said. Turning to her somewhat surprised father, “Dad, this is Neville Longbottom. Dad, Neville Longbottom, Neville Longbottom, Dad. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Well, I figured that out when I saw you kissing,” Mr. Lovegood said with a flat voice. He got up and moved purposely towards Neville. The other D.A. members, unsure of his intentions, put their hands on their wands, ready to draw if necessary. To everyone’s surprise and relief, especially Luna’s, he just went and shook Neville’s hands. “Nice to meet you, Neville.” Everyone still looked suspicious until Luna gave the order to stand down, saying that it was okay. Neville and Luna’s father sat down on opposite sides of the table and started talking about the usual for these situations: Neville’s family, how well he’s doing in school…how well Neville treats his daughter.

“Oh, I treat her fine, sir,” Neville said worryingly, backing his chair up. Luna and Neville both knew that her father was trodding on “sensitive” territory.”

“Have you ‘touched’ her yet,” Mr. Lovegood said, displaying all of the usual Lovegood directness. Neville gave a small yelp and fell out of his seat.

Damn it, Luna thought. It’s time to end this.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Luna’s father said.

“Dad, it’s time for you to go home,” Luna said, desperately; motioning for the Padma, Michael, and Justin to advance on him.

“I approve of him,” her father said. This had a delayed reaction on Luna, however.

“Dad, so help me if you try to-.” Then his words finally hit home.

“You…you approve?” Luna thought surprised, putting her hand up to stop her men.

“Yeah, I do,” he said. “He’s a good kid.” But he learned over and said. “If you hurt her, however, you’re mine. Not even these people will be able to save your sorry ass.” Then he promptly patted Neville on the back and walked out the back door.

As soon as he was gone, Neville slouched in his chair.

“You people are weird,” Neville said, color slowly returning to his face.

“Oh, Neville, shut up!” Luna said, rushing over and flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him like there was no tomorrow. The D.A. walked out and left them to it.

---

Harry was sitting in his chair in his tent, memories of what he had done in the battle coursing through him when the heard a voice behind him.

“Excuse me, Harry, but can I show you something?” Harry knew that voice it belonged to Arthur Weasley.

“Sure,” Harry said, standing up.

“Well,” Arthur said, stepping out of the tent. “Call your friends on that mirror and you’ll see.”

“Okay,” Harry said, interested as to where this was going. He pulled his mirror out and called Ron and the others to him.

“What’s this about, Harry?” Ron asked, still clearly hurt, confused, and angry about what happened to Ginny.

“Ask your father,” Harry said. “He’s the one who wanted to call you.”

“Well, Dad,” Ron asked. “What is it?”

“Follow me, everyone,” Arthur said. They followed him, curious as to where this was going. When they got there, Arthur had Harry, Ron, and Hermione to stand at one side of the pond and Arthur, Neville, and Luna stood on the other side.

“Now,” Arthur said. “When I give the signal, I want you to say, “Accio Phoenix,” and the water began to bubble. The water bubbled, and something broke the surface. It was something that appeared to be based on a Muggle SUV, while it was taller, and radically different.

They lowered it gently and took a look at it. It appeared to be an exceptionally wide SUV, but there were no wheels. The doors had been replaced by sliding doors, and there were what apparently seemed to be four engines, too support the weight of the ship and passengers.

“This is amazing,” Neville said. “What does it do?”

“This,” Arthur said, proud of his latest invention, “Is what Muggles would call an ‘aerial transport.’ It can carry up to eleven passengers simultaneously, plus two pilots. You want to take a look inside?”

“Sure,” Harry and his friends said. They walked in to find it separated into two compartments: a passenger compartment, and a cockpit. The passenger compartments had five seats on one side and six on the other. The cockpit had a pilot and co-pilot’s seats, next to each other on one dashboard.

“Uh, guys,” Neville said. “The Order members are o

utside are… confused.” They rushed out to see every Order member including Mrs. Weasley, looking curiously at the object, some with wands drawn.

“Arthur!” Mrs. Weasley said, shocked. “Do you know what this is?”

“Um, yes,” Arthur said, flustered. “That is, um, well…” It was obvious to all that Arthur hadn’t exactly cued everyone in on this, least of all his wife. That was further exemplified by the fact that Mrs. Weasley’s face darkened as Arthur stammered out an explanation.

“We’ll have a talk about this later,” Molly said, darkly.

“My God,” Fred said. “What is this?”

Arthur explained everything to them, and as he was doing so, Harry, seeing the potential of these ships pulled Arthur aside and said, “Mr. Weasley, these could give us a decisive advantage. How many of these do you have?”

“That’s the problem,” Arthur said, sighing. “There’s only one, and she’s only a prototype. And she’s not even completed.”

“I think we may have an answer to that,” George said. “We’re prepared to take this,” he said, referring to the Phoenix, “and finish it ourselves. We have the R&D team necessary to fulfill this design’s potential.

“Well,” Arthur said, thinking about it; “all right.”

“Excellent,” Fred said, “We’ll send an owl to them and tell them to get out here as soon as possible.”

“Wait a minute,” Harry said worried. “Wait a minute.” Fred and George, in Harry’s experience, didn’t take on a project of this magnitude without pricing it out first. To that end, he asked, “How much is this going to cost?”

George thought about it and said, “We’ll let you know when we’re done.”

That’s not a good sign, Harry thought. “Now we should seal this back up and put it back into the pond.” With that they closed the doors and put it back underwater; they all than walked back to the Burrow eagerly discussing the potential for this design. They were in the sitting room talking when they heard hundreds of loud cracking sounds. The D.A. and the Order members rushed out to see hundreds of young boys and girls arrive. There was then heard a familiar voice of a young American woman.

“Hi, guys,” Julie Prewitt said. “We’re back and we bought some recruits.” Harry stood their, just shocked and barely registered Ron saying, “Bloody hell.” Finally, it all proved to be too much when Julie said, “So where do we sign up?” Finally, all the blood rushed out of his head and he fainted.