Lucifer licked his lips, but his tongue was as dry as his cracked lips and offered no moisture, as he knelt in the sand. His newly grown wings were pulled around him, shielding him from the sun that had already done their damage to his skin. He waited for nightfall when he could escape the sun and the heat.
Exhaustion and thirst kept him grounded. That and not knowing which desert he’d been left in. A part of him wondered how much time had passed when he’d been unconscious. The same danger that threatened now, as Lucifer’s eyes started to droop, his head falling against his shoulder, even as he steepled his hands to pray, hoping his brother might hear him.
As the elevator doors to his penthouse opened, Lucifer could already see his brother there. Powers or no, his eldest brother was still an imposing figure.
Lucifer stepped into his home and slung his suit coat over the bar, “You wanted to meet with me? Please tell me mum’s not here too.”
Pulling my thread with agenttsofchaos’s Luna over here from the side blog~ My next response will be reblogged directly from your blog to this new one!
Luna’s brow furrowed as she looked at the map in her hand one more time before turning her attention to the cabin in front of her. What was this place? And why had Remus sent her here? She hadn’t been given a very thorough explanation, but her curiosity had gotten the best of her. Perhaps that was why she had been so curious.
Following the instructions that had been provided to her after Remus’ funeral, Luna found herself in Denmark, which she would have loved to explore more if she didn’t have a scavenger hunt with a deadline ahead of her. Not that she could speak Danish, but it still would have been an adventure.
Folding up the piece of parchment, Luna tucked it safely into the pocket of her coat before propping her broom over her shoulder. It wasn’t often she flew and flying across the cold Danish countryside wasn’t her idea of a pleasant ride, but she really had no other option in this case. Blonde hair a wild mess, cheeks and nose a rosy red thanks to the chill in the air, the woman tugged at her scarf, trying to protect herself from the cold.
Walking towards the cabin, the fresh blanket of snow crunched beneath her faded red boots as she made her way up to the front door. Setting the broom down against the porch railing, one hand cautiously wrapped around her wand, worried about any possible danger lurking beyond the door. She brought her hand up to rap her knuckles against the wood of the door, waiting a few moments while she received no answer before she knocked again.
Letting out a sigh, she turned to scan the surrounding area. The landscape was quite pretty, especially with the snow slowly falling across the countryside, and she found herself wondering, once again, why Remus had sent her here. Was she supposed to meet somebody? Or just let herself in? “Oh, why is this all so vague?” she asked aloud, letting out a huff and settling on a pile of firewood near the door.
She would wait patiently, at least for a little while, before she unlocked the door and made her way into the cabin uninvited.
In the five years that Harry and Lupin had been meeting semi-annually, whether it was in this Danish cabin or an old inn in Germany or an abandoned barn in France, Lupin had never knocked. If Harry hadn’t suspected that something was wrong before then, the sharp taps on the door would’ve confirmed it.
But Harry had suspected that something was wrong. Considering how limited his communication was, with anyone and everyone, even the Order of the Phoenix, it was hard to tell how little correspondence was too little. Still, Lupin usually found Hedwig often enough to give him news. Confirm or deny what was published in the few media outlets that were left. Encrypt secrets for him to keep. At least give him his assignments, point him in the direction of a hunt. But he hadn’t heard from his only informant in at least two months.
The knock itself was perplexing in its own right, and Harry stood by the empty fireplace and shifted his weight between his boots as he watched the door. No one knew about this place but Lupin and Harry himself, but if anyone had managed to get the location out of the Order’s officer – which would be one hell of a feat – such a villain probably wouldn’t be polite about their invasion. He could practically hear time drifting slowly in the air as he tried to stare a peephole into the wooden door from across the room.
There was only one other explanation. And it was perhaps even worse than some inevitable capture by the enemy. Lupin had sent someone else. Not only could there be no good reason for that, but there was no way Harry could know who was on the other side of that door. They’d never talked about it. What measures would be taken in situations… like whatever this was.
But he could hardly stand there and let the visitor freeze. Or give up and leave. Or just burst in of their own accord. So Harry steeled himself and strode across the small one-room shelter to open the door. There was no one waiting there, but when he took a step over the threshold, he saw the wisps of her snow-flecked blonde hair before anything else.
“…Luna?”
Settling on her chosen perch, Luna was happy to watch the snow fall across the beautiful landscape. It was nice, if a little cold, but as she was unsure of why she’d been sent here, she was hesitant to pull out her wand and cast any spells to warm herself up. She hummed happily as time seemed to stretch out in front of her, trying to decide what exactly her next move should be.
It would be rude to just walk into the cabin, but Remus had sent her here for a reason, hadn’t he? She couldn’t leave without finding out why he’d sent her. He obviously had a reason for it, even if it wasn’t completely clear to her.
Hearing a door opening to her side, Luna turned, cocking her head curiously as wide blue eyes looked up at the tall man suddenly standing on the porch next to her. Owlish eyes flicked over his form as she stood up, trying to decide if she could trust what instinct was telling her. “Harry?” she asked quietly, slowly standing up, red leather boots scuffing against the floor.
“You got tall,” she stated simply, a soft smile flitting across lips chapped from the cold. Seeing him was a surprise, but she definitely couldn’t just blurt out the news that had brought her here. It was much too sad. Especially for the first time she’d seen him in many many years. Had he even gotten her letters? She’d understood why he’d never replied, but that did always leave her a little concerned that he’d never actually received them.
Of course Lupin would send Luna. He’d been afraid that it would be Ron or Hermione… Harry had seen their commentary in the articles about his disappearance. Ron always refused to say anything, and that made it hard to tell, but Hermione’s quotes always sounded irate. He doubted that either of them would have much to say to him that wasn’t screaming. And Ron especially wouldn’t have been able to keep his mouth shut.
But while Luna was never asked for a quote by reporters, she had been the one who never gave up on contacting him directly. Her letters were sometimes long, detailed accounts of a scavenger hunt for some creature he wasn’t convinced existed or a battle she’d survived with Voldemort’s forces. But most of the time, they were short descriptions. Sometimes of a scene, or an animal he wasn’t sure she’d actually seen, sometimes a plant or a person he didn’t know. Sometimes a person he did know. He never knew what to expect, but they never failed to make him smile anyway.
So it made sense that, if Lupin needed to send anyone, it would be Luna Lovegood. And when she said his name, Harry felt a familiar smile spread on his face. The same one he wore when he received one of her letters. He stepped forward to wrap his arms around her instinctively, his joy to see her almost pushing away the ominous question ofwhy she was here.
“Come inside,” he told her as he withdrew, and he put an arm around her shoulders to guide her into the little cottage, out of the wind. He closed the door behind her and gestured for her to take a seat on one of the old but comfortable couches in the sitting room. “You weren’t followed?” he asked, eyeing the firewood longingly but unwilling to light one until he was sure they were safe.
Spike picked up his mobile and ran through his contacts list. He let out a sigh and glanced over his shoulder for a moment. Then hit call and let the phone ring, hoping Willow would pick up.
