Author's Notes: Written for Challenge #23 – Things that Go Bump in the Night on writerverse on LiveJournal.

Write a scary story! It can be outright horror, a ghost story or anything supernatural. It's Halloween, time for all things spooky! 100 words minimum.

400 words.


Luna always got a vaguely disquieted feeling when she was out alone at night. It didn't matter how many times she reminded herself that she knew the area around her house better than anyone in the world, or that she was a perfectly capable witch, or that all she needed to do if she was in trouble was Disapparate – there was still something frightening about being out, alone, with only moonlight for company.

But she went out anyway, because it was easier to sleep after a little walk.

She was out, taking a quiet stroll through the gardens of her house one night, while the moon shone all too bright and white overhead, when she heard a faint crackling somewhere close at hand.

She froze immediately, hand moving towards her wand.

"Hello?" she called out softly – no response, of course. No one would be foolish enough to answer a call of "Hello".

Maybe it was Harry Potter. Maybe he and his friends had come to find her, after disappearing since summer. Maybe she wasn't in danger.

"Hello?" she called out again. "Harry? Is that you?" And then, increasingly aware that saying her friends' names might be a mistake, if she had heard the sounds of Death Eaters' footsteps, but hoping too desperately that it might be her friends who she had heard, she called out, "Ron? Hermione?"

Then a hand shot out of the darkness and pressed over Luna's mouth.

She didn't scream. She was too afraid to scream.

"So you know the Potter boy and his little friends, do you?" someone hissed in her ear. She tried to pull away, but he was holding her close. "They care about you, don't they?"

No! Luna wanted to tell him. They don't care about me! I don't know where they are! Let me go!

But she couldn't say a word. Even if his hand hadn't been over her mouth, she wouldn't have been able to say a word.

"You're coming with us, then," he hissed, not waiting for an answer. His grip on her was too tight for her to even begin to pull away. "You, pretty little girl…" For a moment, his voice went soft, sweet and coddling, "you're going to get your friends to come to us. You'll do a great service to the Dark Lord, you know… you should be proud," he hissed, before he Disapparated with her.