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HP423- Safe House
🕑 Added 2025-05-08 01:06:42 +0000 UTCThey stood like that for a moment, the wind tugging at their clothes, the cold starting to slip into their sleeves. Luna was still tucked lightly against his side, arms around his waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She tilted her head up a bit. “You don’t think the frost gnats will retaliate, do you?”
Harry snorted. “Only if they’ve got suicidal tendencies.”
“Some do,” Luna said, tone casual. “The really dramatic ones fling themselves into cauldron steam.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Must be a Gryffindor species.”
Luna gave a soft laugh, not stepping back. “No. Definitely Ravenclaw. The Gryffindor ones explode.”
Harry didn’t argue. He just turned them slightly, angling his body against the wind to shield her from it. Luna’s scarf had started to unravel again, and he caught the end before it could whip into her face.
“You’re losing layers,” he said, flicking the scarf lightly back over her shoulder.
“It’s a test,” Luna replied. “If it blows away, it wasn’t loyal.”
“That’s not how scarves work.”
“That’s not how loyalty works either,” she said brightly.
Harry let that one slide. “You’re lucky the wind didn’t claim you yet.”
“It tried,” she said, then leaned in a little closer. “But I bribed it with peppermint.”
He rolled his eyes, “So,” he said, after a beat. “What’s the next part of the ritual? Do we hop around in a circle to ward off snow demons?”
“Snow demons are seasonal,” Luna said matter-of-factly. “This is pre-blizzard territory. If we do it now, they’ll get confused.”
Harry pretended to consider that. “Could be funny.”
“They throw icicles,” she reminded.
“Still funny.”
Luna turned, resting her chin on his shoulder without warning. “You’re very warm. Did you swallow a salamander recently?”
“Yeah,” Harry said. “Big fight. I won.”
“You didn’t even break a sweat?”
Harry shrugged. “He got cocky.”
Luna made a content noise, like the story had a satisfying ending. They stood there a bit longer, the field stretching out empty in every direction. Windmill creaked behind them, birds scattered overhead.
She finally shifted back just enough to glance at him sideways. “Want to go look for the tree that hums?”
“Still convinced it’s a tree?”
“Might be a rock. Might be a haunted log. I won’t know until we find it.”
He nodded. “Alright. Humming tree it is.”
They climbed back over the stone fence—Luna with less balance than enthusiasm, Harry catching her elbow again before she could fall flat into a patch of frosted dirt.
Eventually, Luna stopped in front of a wide tree with cracked bark and a crooked trunk. One of the branches dipped low like it had been stepped on by a centaur.
“This might be it,” she said. “It hummed once.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Once?”
“Well, twice. But the second time it might’ve been me humming. I was very inspired.”
He pressed a hand against the bark. Cold, rough, solid. “It’s definitely a tree.”
“Try listening.”
Harry leaned in, mock-serious, ear to the trunk. “Still a tree.”
“You’re not listening properly,” Luna said, mimicking him. “You have to want to hear it.”
“I want to hear warmth, sleep, and maybe some chocolate.”
“That’s not tree business,” she replied.
Harry stepped back. “Right. Let’s log this as ‘possibly haunted, possibly Luna’s fault.’”
Luna smiled. “I accept those terms.”
They didn’t go back to the house immediately. Instead, they walked a lazy loop around the outer edge of the field, passing an old scarecrow that had more birds sitting on it than flying away from it. The sun was sinking low now, sky going that washed-out purple shade that showed winter was settling in for good.
As they circled back toward the house, Luna bumped her shoulder into Harry’s arm. “Thanks for bringing me.”
“Wasn’t going to let you take the train alone and get lost.”
She paused. “That only happened once.”
“That I know of.”
She reached for his hand, gave it a light squeeze, then let go just as quickly. “See you later, Harry,” Luna said, leaning in for a short hug.
Harry ruffled her hair before pulling back. “Let me say goodbye to your father first.”
She hummed in response and led him back inside. Xenophilius was in the corner stacking books with no clear order, a feathered quill bobbing behind his ear like it was waiting for a turn to scribble something wild. He looked up and beamed.
“Leaving so soon?”
“Yeah. Just wanted to remind you—don’t forget the Yule Ball,” Harry said, nodding toward him.
Xeno saluted with a spoon. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve already designed two outfits. Both controversial.”
“Sounds about right,” Harry said.
Luna stood by the door now, watching with a half-lidded smile like she already knew the rest of the day would play out fine. Harry gave her a quick wave, then disapparated with a soft crack.
He landed just outside the safe house. Bellatrix was here. She stood there barefoot, a simple black robe wrapped around her, hair wet and tangled like she’d just finished washing it.
As soon as she saw him, she dropped to her knees. “Master.”
Harry gave a short nod. “I’m hungry. Cook me something, please.”
Bellatrix rose without hesitation, didn’t ask questions. She turned, bare feet silent against the stone floor, and disappeared into the kitchen like she’d done it a hundred times.
Harry walked further into the safehouse. The fireplace in the main room had gone out, so he lit it with a flick of his finger and dropped onto the worn couch facing it.
A minute later, the sounds from the kitchen kicked in. Chopping, a few clangs, the quick rustle of her moving through shelves.
Ten minutes passed before Bellatrix returned. She carried a tray—simple food, nothing fancy. Toasted bread, sliced meat, a bowl of hot soup. She set it on the low table in front of him, then stood back, hands folded neatly.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I made what was fastest,” she said, voice quiet.
Harry picked up the spoon. “It’s fine.”
She sat beside his leg, head tilted slightly, eyes tracking every movement as he ate. Not in a creepy way—more like she was trying to figure out if she’d done well. Harry paused with the spoon halfway up.
“You eaten?”
Bellatrix shook her head. “It’s fine. I will eat later.”
He set his spoon down. “Later is now. Come on.”
Before she could protest, he reached over and hauled her up by the wrist. He pointed at the spot beside him on the couch and nudged the tray so it sat between them.
“Let’s eat together,” he said.
Bellatrix didn’t argue again. "Thank you, Master."
Her hands moved quickly as she tore off a corner of bread. Harry slid the soup closer, handed her a spoon without fuss. She took it like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to.
“You used thyme this time,” he said after a moment.
“Yes. It’s better for digestion.”
“Tastes better too.”
She gave a short nod, grinning. “Glad to please you, Master.”
Harry didn’t miss a beat. “Wording, Bella. Wording.”
She giggled, tearing a piece of bread and dunking it into the soup like she hadn’t just said something that would make most people walk out of the room.
“Well, Harry,” Nigel piped up from the back of his mind, “seems like your slave is getting hots for you.”
Harry quipped back, “Aren’t you too old for gossip, Nigel?”
Nigel snorted. “How rude. I’ll have you know, I’m only a few millennia old.”
“Right,” Harry said, scooping more soup. “Basically a teenager.”
Nigel huffed in his mind, but didn’t argue.
Bellatrix had finished her half of the soup by now and was quietly chewing through a slice of bread, her eyes kept drifting toward him between bites.
After eating, Bellatrix flicked her wand, and the dishes vanished with a faint clink. She left without a word, and the faint sound of water filling the bath could be heard from the hallway.
She returned a few minutes later, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Bath’s ready, Master. Want me to wash your back?”
Harry raised a brow, tapped her forehead lightly. “Of course not. Go rest. You’re done for the night.”
Bellatrix grinned but didn’t push it. “As you wish.”
She disappeared down the corridor, still barefoot, still humming like she hadn’t just offered to scrub down her lord and saviour. Harry shook his head and headed for the bath.
