The blood had soaked into her hair, and she had a smear of it on her face, but Blaise thought none of it was hers. He hoped it wasn't. Starting off his time in the Dark Lord's forces by tracking down and killing anyone who'd hurt her would be hard to explain.

Or maybe not. The way the men picked out to guard the sobbing losers leered and pawed at the collected bodies huddling together for protection suggested no one cared about discipline in the ranks. Luna slapped the hand that reached for her away and he shook his head. "You ready?" he asked her.

"You can't just take her," one of the guards protested.

Blaise rolled his eyes and sleeve. The pathetic Snatcher, if he was even that, took one look at the Mark on his arm and paled. "What did you say I couldn't do?" Blaise asked. Contempt dripped from every syllable and he moved so he was right at the edge of the guard's personal space and let his height and build intimidate the man. "I didn't quite hear you."

"We ain't supposed to let them go," he said. Blaise sniffed and promptly wished he hadn't. Even with the reek of blood and battle, the man's rank smell came through.

"Did that order include keeping them out of the clutches of Marked Death Eaters?" Blaise asked. The man swallowed hard, shook his head, and looked down. Even if it had, he clearly wasn't quite stupid enough to challenge him again. Pity. Being locked in the dungeons by the Hogwarts staff had left him in a foul mood, and eager to lash out. Potter had bungled it, though any fool could have seen that coming, and now the world had changed and he didn't plan to have dungeons be in his future.

Or hers. He made a sharp gesture and the Snatcher stepped back and gave him tacit permission to take the woman away. No quick violence to work off his anger today. He gave the Snatcher a tight smile and then turned a far more genuine one on Luna. "You ready?" he asked.

Luna let out one of her musical laughs and whispered something to Hannah before stepping out of the defeated cluster of Dumbledore's Army. "Do you want me to kill him?" Blaise asked her as he ran a hand over her arm and reassured himself that no one had hurt her. "Did he maul you in any way?"

"I'm fine," she said. He knew that was a lie. She'd held out hope Potter would do it. She believed in nargles, crumple horned snoracks, and miracles. She also believed in him, which was why she tucked her hand into his and, stepping over rubble, let him lead her out of the holding cells and into the morning light.

"Dawn of a new age," Blaise said.

"How long do you think it will take?" she asked.

He shrugged. "A few years, maybe. Trust me?"

She pulled her wand out of his pocket and twirled it around before using it to tuck her hair up. "Everyone trusts you," she said. Her eyes took in the swelling on his lip where he'd fought being locked away, and the Mark he wore. "Even Voldemort."

"I know," he said. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him so he could side-along apparate her back to the flat he'd been setting up all year. He stocked the cupboards with her favorite tea and arranged to have pudding ready, though she'd been fighting all night and he planned to tuck her into bed and see that she slept. "I'm sorry about your friends," he murmured in her ear. "Things will get bad for a bit, but we've got this."

"I know," she said. She lay her cheek against his chest and said, "Things always come back."

"Just not in the way you might expect," he said, echoing her oft repeated maxim before whisking her away to the safety he could provide in a world gone mad.

. . . . . . . . .

A/N - A tiny bluna drabble prequel in this universe for ff-sunset-oasis.