Chapter 42: The Totalitar Regime

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Luna awoke in the darkness feeling the cold wet stone beneath her feet. Her hand immediately reached out to the scar on her forehead. It still stung most painfully, yet Luna could at least take solace it was in the shape of a lightning bolt and not the word her Mother would have had her write.

Her Mother...that word stung more than her scar. It made her think of Umbridge, then Pandora. It made her heart ache and sent her head whirling in confusion, it also brought along many other emotions she could not place. She could place anger, sadness, betrayal, grief...

Luna flinched as she felt something cold and wet be pressed against her forehead. As the water ran down her face, Luna let out a groan of relief. The burning flesh of her scar was soothed by the damp cloth.

"Shush child." An old weathered voice whispered as softly as its hoarseness could provide. "Let me treat your scar, it will become infected if I don't."

"Who are you?" Luna whispered tiredly as she felt the cloth leave her forehead only to come back colder and damper.

"I am no one." The old woman replied. "I am just another soul, lost in hell."

Luna opened her eyes and saw a pair of dull gray eyes staring at her. "Close your eyes, let Fiona take care of you."

Luna tried to rise but felt her mind wander as the old lady washed her scar. Luna wasn't sure how long it was before she heard the second voice. "Have you found out who she is?"

"I have not asked, she needed to have her wound cleaned, not be questioned by strangers." Fiona replied harshly.

"You heard what they said. They mentioned Harry Potter?"

"Not all of us have magical children. Not all of us know of this Harry Potter." The old woman hissed. "Most of us are Squibs, and some have little knowledge of this Dark Lords bane."

A third voice hissed. "You think this is the Moonchild, they say she was with Harry Potter. Look she even has his scar."

"I don't care about any of that." Shouted the second voice. "If she knows Potter than I must speak with her."

"If speak with her you must, then speak with her later." Fiona uttered sagely. "Now you must let her sleep."

Luna shook her head with a moan. "I can't sleep, I need to get out."

An old voice chuckled sadly, Luna opened her eyes and saw the old woman more clearly as she spoke. "We all need to get out, but none of us ever shall leave this place."

Luna felt two pairs of arms pull her up to a sitting position, allowing Luna to look around.

In the torch lit room it was impossible to tell how large it was, but the rows and rows of cages went well out of eyesight. There were large groups of people inhabiting each cage, all of them in rags, a bucket of water was placed in each cage as well as a gruel like substance. Wandering down the halls outside the cages were Dementors, who caused the prisoners to shiver as they pulled upon their very souls. Luna realized that she was in one of these cages as well.

"What is this place?" Luna asked in horror

"A prison." Fiona croaked. "We are the people the Unspeakables deemed unworthy and inferior, Muggles and Squibs. We are the subjects for their experiments. This has been going on for years, some have begun to call them Totalitar but they have and always will be Unspeakables, and unspeakable their actions are."

Luna looked at the people in the cage with her, some were skinny while others had a greenish tinge to their skin. One of the younger women asked quietly. "Is it really you, are you the Moonchild, Luna Lovegood?"

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