CHAPTER NINETEEN:

I woke up. And while normally that wouldn't be considered a particularly earth-shattering feat, this time was one of those exceptions. My entire body ached fiercely, and I expected that an examination would reveal bruises all over. A careful inventory told me that despite these aches, a tender throat that hurt when I swallowed, and a much sharper stabbing pain along my left side that, while sharp and raw, was bearable, I appeared to be in one piece.

Satisfied that everything was marginally stable, I carefully peeled my eyes open. For about a quarter of a second I registered the fact I was in Edward's room, and then I was being pulled into an embrace that made me huff slightly as the air was knocked from my lungs. I didn't really care, though, not with the way Edward was holding me against his body, molding us as tightly together as we could be without being physically intimate.

There was no kissing, no heavy touching, no rubbing or grinding, just holding tight. Reveling in the fact that we could.

I might have cried a little bit too.

I made a sound of protest as Edward gently pulled away, his reluctant expression looking as if it was agonizing for him to do so, but then he was moving, and his iced, marble body was replaced by one that was warm and squishy and had two days worth of scruff that scratched me as I was pulled into another tight hug, this one squeezing even harder then Edward's.

"Dad!" I choked, tears springing to my eyes from the pain caused by the tight hug, "can't breathe!"

"Don't care," Charlie muttered, though he did, obligingly, loosen his grip enough that my ribs weren't being crushed inwards, and I released my breath in a relieved puff as the pressure on my side vanished.

The hugging lasted for an eternity- by 'Charlie Swan Standards', at least. Not that Charlie seemed to be the one caring this time, instead it was me who felt more and more progressively uncomfortable as my father showed no signs of letting go any time soon.

Deciding drastic action must be taken; I cleared my throat (it was more then a little choked up at this point) and then asked the question I thought would be most likely to get more then just a one or two word answer from him.

"So, is the mostly dead man I brought back still breathing?"

Predictably, Charlie did let go, moving back so he was still seated on the bed within arm's length of me, and I slumped back against the pillows that Edward had thoughtfully arranged up against the headboard for me so that I was propped up without having to expend much energy.

"He's alive," Charlie confirms, "thanks to Doctor Cullen."

"Carlisle's kept his heart going, though it was very touch and go, up to a point." Edward explains, as he lifts my hand in his two icy ones. I shiver, but not from the cold. "He's in a medically induced coma, at present. Luna and Katie both advised that we keep him like that."

"Probably for the best. I'm pretty sure he's still considered a war criminal." I muse, and then almost laugh as Edward and Charlie let out nearly identical long-suffering sighs.

"I don't even want to know how you ended up with him." Charlie says, despairingly. "Or why you brought him here."

"It was Luna's fault." I inform him- because it's true- and he just shakes his head. "How is she, anyway?" I ask, "And how long have I been... asleep?"

"A little under fourteen hours." Edward is the one to answer me, "Carlisle said it was mostly exhaustion that had you unconscious so long, paired with an unhealthy amount of stress and trauma."

"Worth it," I say, unable to help my wide smile. Giddiness fills me, and it feels like I'm about to start laughing out loud, the suddenness making me feel off-balance as well as gleeful.

And it is so definitely, absolutely 'worth it'- Voldemort is dead. He's dead, and he's never, ever, ever coming back, and-

-and my smile drops as I remember who else is never, ever, ever coming back.

"How... how's Angela?" I ask, quietly, and there's a tremble in my voice. It's Charlie who answers, though with his odd little relationship with Qiang, I shouldn't be so surprised.

"She took the news pretty hard. They all did." He says, face unhappy. I blink back tears of grief- the Li's didn't deserve this; Sue didn't deserve this, her life stolen from her so early.

"You'd have liked her. Both of you. Sue was pretty hard not to like- she was so gentle and kind. People would always think she was a better fit for Hufflepuff then Ravenclaw, until we reached third year and she started Arithmancy- Professor Vector absolutely adored her, and I'm pretty sure she was going to ask her to be her apprentice after she took her NEWTs."

I should have realized that Sue wouldn't have kept away from the battle- she was as loyal as a Hufflepuff, and staying in China while we all fought went against every part of her nature.

"I'm so very, very sorry for your loss," Edward says, solemnly. My breath hitches in a sob and he brushes his lips to my forehead, and I lean forwards into it. He wraps his arms around me, half embracing me, half supporting me. Charlie doesn't comment, though I can see in my peripheral vision he looks a touch awkward.

"How are Luna and Katie doing?" I ask, after a long moment of silence for brave, selfless Sue, pulling my head back so I can look into his golden eyes.

"Qiang had to operate on Katie to clean up what was left of her arm." Edward says, mouth curved down in an unhappy frown as he looks down at me. "And Luna... well, Luna's mostly been busy with her... guest, though she did let Carlisle check her over- she had some nasty bruises and light burns and a cracked rib, but other then that she's in one piece."

"Guest?" I ask, sharply, remembering Luna's missing emergency Portkey. Edward's frown deepens.

"Luna requested I let her inform you of the... guest's identity." He says.

"Don't like the look of that one." Mutters Charlie, looking just as unhappy as Edward.

"I'm really not going to take this well, am I?" I mutter.

-

Walking proves to be a nuisance. Mostly because my entire body feels like one giant bruise, and the pain in my left side has slowly increased from feeling like dozens of sharp pins stabbing me to dozens of sharp pins heated up by an open flame and then stabbing me. I'm very tempted to just ask Edward to carry me, but my pride refuses to allow it.

Pride makes absolute bloody idiots out of people.

I've barely cleared the bottom step before Alice has pulled me into her arms. I'm actually surprised by my reaction to her sudden appearance- a blast of terror has my body turn into a statue, and I let out a gasping sound, unable to breathe properly in my rapidly approaching panic.

I barely register the fact Alice has let go of me, too preoccupied by the sheer overwhelming panic and the sharp pain in my chest that I only vaguely realize is the result of being unable to breathe. My face is hot, flushed, and my eyelashes seem stuck together, waterlogged. Someone's speaking to me, but I can't get the words to make sense over the pounding in my ears.

(There's colored lights flashing bright behind my eyelids, most of them vibrant green, and I can taste copper and smoke and-)

The sudden pressure of ice cold, unyielding lips melded against my own soft, malleable ones has me grasping onto what little rationality I have left, and I clutch onto Edward, kissing him back frantically.

"I guess that's one way to do it," I hear someone- Emmett, I'm pretty sure- mutter.

"Emmett!" scolds Esme, confirming my suspicions. "This is not the time!"

My head is clearing of the fog of anxiety, and my heart has stopped feeling like its trying to break my ribs, though my body hurts more, and I wince at the pain in my wrist. Looking down, I notice for the first time the bandage wrapped tight around it, and I look up at Edward, confused.

"You had a bad sprain," Edward explains. I remember falling, reaching out automatically to brace my fall, and the sharp pain afterwards, a sharp pain mostly ignored in my rush to help Luna and Katie.

"It was nothing too serious," Carlisle speaks up, and I turn slightly to face him. "The ligaments connecting your wrist and hand-bones had small tears, but we iced it while you were unconscious, and then I compressed it. It should only take around two weeks to completely heal- naturally, that is. I assume there are magical treatments that will deal with it much more efficiency."

"Thanks Carlisle." I try to smile at him, though the heaviness I'm feeling, the tiredness following the panic attack, the pain and aching all over my body and the grief I'm only just managing to hold at bay, makes this difficult. He gives me a warm look in response.

"I gave you a check-over while you were out," he says, "you have extensive bruising, which I imagine you can feel quite keenly, and several burns which I applied a cooling salve and antibiotic cream, and any scarring will be minimal. The injury you sustained that most concerns me is the laceration along your side."

I grimace, pulling up the hem of my shirt to examine Bellatrix's handiwork. It was long, very long, reaching from mid-ribcage to mid-thigh, and in a mostly straight line. The scar tissue looked red and inflamed and even thicker then I'd originally thought without all the blood. I let my top fall back down to cover it and rub my temples with my fingertips, my head starting to ache slightly- I blamed stress, and it made me grimace.

"Bella?" Edward asks anxiously, and I smile up at him, though my expression feels half forced.

"I'm fine. Just a headache." I tell him. His blessedly cool hands gently tug my hands down, replacing them with his long, clever and- most importantly- icy ones, and I sigh a little in relief.

Alice approaches me again, this time slowly. Her expression is mostly hidden behind the mask of a smile, but I can see the worry burning fierce in her gold eyes. Loudly choreographing her movements, she lifts up a tall glass of water with condensation beading along the sides and two small capsules. "It's advil," she says, and I smile at her, and this time it's easier to make my mouth form the movement. The water feels glorious and refreshing, sliding down my throat, though swallowing makes me grimace slightly, pained, having not realized the extent of the inflammation in my throat.

"Bella?" Edward repeats, still looking anxious. I sigh.

"My body hurts."

"I imagine that you'll feel that way for a few weeks," Carlisle says, apologetically.

"So Qiang's gone, then?" I question, and it's Charlie who answers.

"She left yesterday with Mei-Xing, after helping Carlisle with Katie. Mei-Xing wouldn't take Angela or the twins- doesn't want them out of the country yet, not even for the," he hesitates for a moment, "for the... funeral. Katie's staying with Angela." I blink back tears, sniffing loudly. Edward produces a handkerchief, and I wipe my nose, unattractively.

"You should rest, Bella," Carlisle says, gently. "Let your body heal." Edward seems to agree with him, and after I convince him to let me have a shower (he insists on Alice standing inside the bathroom with me just in case, and I agree without argument because my legs sort of feel like jelly) I find myself half curled in his lap on the couch, in front of the television. Alice, Emmett and Rosalie join us. I get to choose the movie and I pick 'The Princess Diaries', letting myself relax at the silly, light-hearted plot.

Edward keeps massaging my temples which I'm glad of, as the advil hasn't had much of an effect, instead the aching had increased. I dose off at one point, but someone- Alice, probably- puts in another movie, and I spend a lazy afternoon on the couch, falling asleep a little after lunch. When I wake up, it's to Luna snuggled beside me, and I realize with a start I'm in my bedroom at home.

"When did I get here?" I ask, feeling disorientated. My head hurts and the red-hot stabbing pins have turned to red-hot stabbing icepicks, now.

"The Cullens and the Pack had the meeting tonight," Luna murmurs, her chin tucked over my shoulder, carefully avoiding the purple bruising I know is under the light sweater I'm wearing. "Edward drove you and Charlie back here a few hours ago- you slept right through it."

I shiver slightly, frowning at the reminder that not everything's over. "I actually forgot about the newborn army." I confess, and Luna's warmth breath brushes against my neck as she laughs softly, almost silently.

"You're not the only one." She admits, without embarrassment.

"I was always more worried about the whole magic situation." I tell her, "it always felt like the bigger risk. Like if anything was going to kill me, it was going to be a Dark wizard, not a group of fresh-Turned vampires." We lay there together in relative silence, before I think to ask.

"Am I allowed to know the mysterious identity of our guest?" I ask, and she looks thoughtful.

"I've done a lot of thinking," she states softly, "about what you said to me- about love." I wince, not liking where this is going.

"Come up with anything interesting?" I ask, faking casual while internally panicking.

"Well I believe I have figured it out." Luna says.

"Oh?"

"Love is..." she smiles faintly, "it's...you go in with both eyes wide open, knowing that you're taking daft risks and that there's only the slimmest of all possible chances that anything will come of it. You don't have a guarantee, or promise that can't be broken in an instant, but it... it doesn't matter. And while sometimes it can hurt you, and hurt the one you love, you're never, ever more alive than when you're with them- it's reckless and painful and overwhelming, like you're drowning, and it's incredible and you never want to come up for air, but you wouldn't have it any other way- I wouldn't have it any other way. That's how I feel, Bella. Like there's someone who thinks I'm the most precious thing on this green earth and who makes me so happy."

I slump, the tension leaving my body as I realize that no matter what I say, it won't make a difference- not when Luna seems to have fallen head-over-heels for the mystery guest.

"So are you going to tell me who this mysterious person you're in love is? Who is also our new guest, I'm guessing, the one you gave your emergency portkey to?"

"It might not work out," Luna says, softly. "I may be deluding myself. My creatures... they're silent. I'm going into this blind and deaf, and... I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing, because if it doesn't work-"

"Do you love them?" I interrupt. She blinks her silver eyes slowly.

"Yes. I do."

"Then it doesn't matter. Not really. No matter how it ends, or even how it starts, the real point to loving someone is being in love. It's...it's not a path to somewhere else. It's the destination. It's the point. Whatever happens afterwards, you still felt love, and were loved." I tell her.

Luna exhales, looking as if a weight has lifted from her too-thin shoulders. "You're right." She says, a gentle smile on her face. "Of course you are."

"Of course I am." I agree, with a smile. She laughs.

"Let's go, then. I have someone to introduce you to." She gets up lightly and I stand too, but then I have to grab the bed-head, squeezing my eyes closed as the room spins around me and my headache flares, a brief wave of nausea twisting my stomach. A small sound of pain escapes me, as it feels like someone's pressed a burning iron along my side.

"Bella?" Luna asks, anxiously.

"Just- give me a second," I say, through gritted teeth. "Bad headache."

"Aguamenti! Here," she presses a glass into my hand, and I drink the water quickly, before carefully opening my eyes. My head hurts, but the room's stopped spinning, and my stomach is uncomfortable but steady.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Luna peers at me, worriedly. "You're very pale, Bella."

"I'm always pale," I dismiss, putting the glass down on my bedside table, and picking up my wand, which some thoughtful soul had placed there. "Now stop procrastinating and let me meet Romeo... or Juliet. Either one- I'm okay with both."

"Romeo," Luna says, leading me to Charlie's tiny study. She opens the door, and for a moment I take in the fact the desk and bookshelf have been taken out and replaced with a small single bed with a brass frame, and then I register just who it is on the bed, looking up from the book they're reading, startled, and my wand is outstretched, the curse on my lips before I even really register I'm moving.

Luna grabs my elbow, knocking the spell off-course, but the jet of red light still hits the bed, and Draco Malfoy is knocked arse over teakettle.

The pillow catches fire, too, but Luna yanks my wand out of my hand before I can use it to curse Malfoy again and uses it to put the fire out. I glower at Malfoy, while making grabby hands for my wand, still intent on cursing him.

I hated Draco Malfoy. Not in the kind of 'I hate veggies' way either, more in the 'I'm going to cave your head in with a rock then shove your face in that yellow snow over there' kind of way.

Unfortunately, he looked so pathetic right now that even when I managed to get my wand back from Luna I couldn't find it within myself to curse him again. Which was a crying shame, and something I knew I'd regret later.

"Luna, you should never ever be left unsupervised." I tell her, still glaring fiercely at Malfoy.

"Bella, you trust me, right?" Luna said, sternly.

"Sure," I nod, half turning to face her, but still keeping Malfoy in my line of sight, "I trust you Luna- I trust you with my life. It's scum-bag Death Eaters like him that I don't trust."

"Bella," she scolds.

"I'm not taking it back." I snap, obstinately. "You were kept in his fucking cellar for months. I will never forgive that! I'll never forgive him!" I spit the last words at Malfoy, a very large and currently extremely prominent part of me enjoying the way he flinches back and cringes, like my words are knives, cutting deep into him. "This is some sort of Stockholm Syndrome." I decide, grimly. "We're going to Carlisle- he'll know how to help you, Luna."

"Bella!" I turn my head fully around to look at Luna, surprised by her raised voice. Her silver eyes have gone all steely, and she's giving me a fierce look. "Do you trust me?" She demands, again.

"Luna-" I protest, but she silences me with a look.

"Do. You. Trust. Me?"

I deflate, my shoulders slumping as I exhale noisily. "Yeah. I trust you. Of course I do." I say, and she touches my hand with her own smaller one.

"Then trust me, Bella."

"I still don't like him. I will never like him." I warn her, and she sighs.

"I know. But try? For me?"

"I won't curse him again." I allow.

"And you won't call him a Death Eater again." She says, firmly. "Or mean names in general."

"That's a tall order." I mutter, but seeing her expression I groan. "Fine! I won't call him a Death Eater or any other names that he deserves to be called!" She presses her lips in a thin, unimpressed line, but I refuse to back down and she eventually sighs and nods.

"I suppose that's settled then." She drifts across the room to Malfoy and touches his shoulder, her finger tips skimming across his collarbone, and her back is to me so I can't see her face but Malfoy must see something in it that allows him to relax, the stressed, pinched look on his pointed face softening. Luna murmurs something to him that I can't hear, and he gives her a weak sort of smile. I grit my teeth and try not to glare, fighting the urge to cross the room and rip her away from him.

Why couldn't she have fallen in love with someone who I didn't hate? I wondered mournfully. Jacob was single, after all.

I narrowed my eyes as steel-grey ones met mine over Luna's shoulder.

If you so much as make her cry, I will disembowel you and knit myself a fashionable sweater out of your entrails that will be the envy of decomposing corpses everywhere, I warned him with a glare.

By the way his eyes widened, I felt that he'd understood my silent message.

A/N: Hello everyone, thank you for being so patient with me :) With uni starting, I'm finding myself absolutely insanely busy, so updates will be sporadic, I'm afraid. That being said, I will make an effort not to leave it so long before updating again ~ C.Carroll