Written For:

- Music History Class/Pitch: Write a story in which a character is experiencing an emotional extreme.

Word Count: 1,426

There was nothing that gave Luna Lovegood greater pleasure than helping others. When a family friend had asked her if she would be interested in volunteering at a private hospital in the Midlands, she never even considered saying no. She wanted to bring joy to people's lives, and if she could fetch even a tiny bit of light into a dim, lonely hospital, then she felt satisfied with her own life.

It wasn't like she had much else to do with her free time. Since finishing Hogwarts, she had skipped between jobs. It wasn't like she didn't have the qualifications to get herself a good job, she did—she just wanted to make sure she picked the right career. Something that she really enjoyed doing.

Working at the hospital did give her a lot of enjoyment. It wasn't so much a hospital as it was an institution: the British Institution for the Rehabilitation of Mentally Unfit Witches and Wizards. The patients there weren't physically unfit—their problems lay solely in their minds. Some of them had problems that arose from trauma, some of them were simply born that way, and some of their issues were caused by curses or the over-exposure to Dementors. For that reason, many of the patients were ex-inmates of the old Azkaban prison.

Luna's work at the hospital wasn't too complicated. Sometimes she shadowed the medics if they needed an extra hand during ward rounds, but more often than not, she served tea in the day room and supervised mealtimes. In her free time, she would try and socialise with as many of the patients as she could. She worked in the male ward, so things hadn't always been too simple. She was one of the few staff members of the fairer sex, and when she first started, many of the patients had used this as an opportunity to leer at her. But she soon learned to ignore it.

Some days were harder than others, though.

"I like that skirt you have on today, Miss Luna." Henry Foley, a long-term resident at the Institution. He was in his late fifties, and from what Luna had been told, he had been here since the hospital opened. A family member had used the Imperious Curse on him since he was a small child, right up until his late twenties, and the constant use of such strong, manipulative magic had left a dreadful impact on his brain. He was plagued by frequent manic highs and plummeting lows, and had been known to inflict violence on others in his more dangerous mindsets.

Even though he could be violent, he was always pleasant to Luna - if not a little inappropriate. She smiled warmly at Henry as she placed a plastic teacup down in front of him, filled with milky, sugary tea—the way he preferred it. He took a long gulp from the cup, ogling her skirt as he did so.

"Short, isn't it?"

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Foley?" Luna replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Your skirt."

Luna glanced down at her skirt, which reached her knees. As she did so, Henry reached out with both hands, sending his cup of tea flying across the table, and yanked her skirt down.

As she was clutching a tea tray, she was unable to regain her modesty straight away. Instead, her face began to glow as she felt cold air around her thighs, and she quickly slammed the tray on the table and started pulling her skirt back up, mortified. "Henry," she whispered, trying to keep her voice level. "That was not nice of you."

Henry shrugged, and held up his hands. "Well, you're a beautiful girl. I just wanted to see a bit more of you—" suddenly, he was cut off. A large, velvet blue beanbag had slammed into the side of Henry's face, causing him to fall backwards off his chair. Luna backed away, looking towards the door of the day room in the hope that another staff member was going to rush in and help—so far, there was no luck.

She watched as a familiar patient stormed towards Henry, his face contorted with rage. He pushed past Luna and grabbed Henry by the scruff of the neck, beginning to throttle him roughly. "How dare you!" he screamed, his voice ringing through the day room like a siren. "How dare you do something like that, you dirty, disgusting pervert!"

"Mr Crouch," Luna called, but her voice went unheard amidst his yells. Barty Crouch began to pummel Henry over and over again, until his knuckles were stained red. Finally, two male medics arrived and grabbed Barty by the upper arms, and dragged him out of the day room.

Luna hurried out of the day room as another medic returned to take Henry to a medical unit, where he could have his wounds treated. She didn't want to admit it out loud, but she couldn't help but feel slightly grateful to Barty for his (slightly dramatic) chivalry. She was afraid to look Henry in the eye, in case her thoughts were reflected on her face.

oOo

Barty was taken to an isolation cubicle, and the medic in charge allowed Luna to visit him before she left for the day. He was sitting on the spongy floor of the minimalist cubicle, with his arms wrapped around his knees.

He didn't flinch when Luna was let into the cubicle, and she nodded through the small window for the medic to lock the door behind her. She wasn't afraid of him, not like most people were.

Barty Crouch wasn't the only ex-Azkaban inmate who had been evaluated when Kingsley Shacklebolt reformed the prison. The new Wizengamot had judged Barty unfit for prison, due to his vulnerable mental state. It was a private affair that had him shipped to this institution. The Ministry had neglected to tell the rest of the Wizarding World that Barty had never actually received the Dementor's Kiss, so they definitely want to make it known that they were letting someone who was deemed a dangerous criminal into a hospital unit, no matter how secure it was.

When Luna had first met Barty in the hospital, he had unnerved her a little. But slowly, she'd gotten to know him. She began to understand how his damaged mind worked, and why he behaved the way he did. Generally a quiet person, he was often affected by triggers that caused him to act out violently. Like Henry Foley, a man who he already despised.

"I'm sorry," Barty muttered into his knees, not looking up at Luna. She sat down on the floor in front of him, and reached out to pat his arm. He grabbed her hand quickly, and she didn't pull it back. "I didn't want to scare you."

"I'm not afraid of you, Barty," she replied softly. "I just...I wanted to thank you."

He looked up at her with his chestnut brown eyes, which were full of confusion. "What? Thank me for what?"

"No one has ever come to my defence like that before," Luna told him. "I spent a lot of time being bullied at school, so I'm used to that kind of treatment. But no one has ever come and...tried to..." her voice tailed off as she tried to think of the correct words. No one ever rendered her speechless like Barty managed to. She didn't know whether it was because deep down, she knew that they were one of the same. They were more alike than anyone would ever imagine, and to think that she could be so similar to a criminal scared her, just a tiny bit.

Barty looked at her solemnly. "What he did to you was horrible." He pursed his lips, and Luna noticed a vein pulsing on his temple. Just the thought of it was angering him. She squeezed his hand gently, and he took a breath. "I hated it when he touched you. When he leered at you. He makes me sick."

Luna didn't reply. She knew that the medics would never approve of any kind of relationship between a staff member and a patient—and it wasn't as though there was a labelled relationship. Sometimes Barty said things that made her question their separate positions.

But one day, Barty might be freed from the Institution. And then, who knew.

Giving him a brief smile, she leaned down and pressed a small kiss to the top of his head. One day, she thought to herself. One day, we'll be free.