InsaneJournal

If it had not been for Tonks' presence, Luna would have tried to immediately find someplace to hide. Something that might have been problematic as she was quite claustrophobic at times, and when the threat of Death Eaters lay upon the immediate world heavily, she would have been terrified to be in a small place. As it was, she sat in a far corner of the room, her back firmly against a wall and one shoulder against a bookcase.

That Dean was coming, it eased her terror, if only a little. The Mark, the strange entries in the journal that she had read this morning, they all pointed to one idea in her mind, and it was one that had made her sleep fitful and grasped only in short intervals.

Luna was frankly terrified, and it was not something that she could or would deny. It was not the death that Voldemort's followers wrought, it was the torture, and the shackles, and the windowless, skyless cells. One of her hands slid into her jacket pocket and grasped the three blue Pixie Stix in her pocket, the move unconscious and unnoticed. With her knees pulled up against her chest, the small witch was more of a ball of frightened humanity than her usually dreamy self.