Control.

Bellatrix Lestrange likes being in control. She likes being in control and she likes abusing the power which that gives her.

Luna learnt that the hard way.

For all her intelligence, Luna Lovegood is rather naive. She believes in the good in people. This is why she doesn't hold it any grudges when it comes to the people who mistreated her at Hogwarts. This is why she was such an easy target for the Death Eaters in Malfoy Manor.

They treated her like a dog treats a chew toy, pushing constantly, seeing how far they could go before she toppled over the edge.

Luna never snapped. Luna just stared back at them with wide silver eyes, filled with pity. She wasn't sorry for herself. She was sorry for them. This made the Death Eaters angry, and confused, and, occasionally, just a little bit sorry.

In the end they all left her alone, even Bellatrix. Luna would hum to herself in the darkness of the cellar, playing with the odds and ends she'd located in their makeshift cell. Despite her size, despite the fact that she didn't have a wand, she was able to unnerve the Death Eaters.

And, though she didn't take any particular pleasure from it, she supposed that meant she was in control.

What makes someone a hero? What makes someone a villain?

Luna woke up to find herself lying in total darkness. It was cold and musty and, worst of all, it was silent. She could hear each trembling breath she took, echoing off the walls.

Heaving herself to her knees, Luna tried to remember where she was and how she'd ended up here. Her head was pounding, and there was a bloody lump somewhere underneath her tangle of matted blonde hair which was probably the reason for that.

She remembered being dragged off the train by the Death Eaters. She remembered Neville shouting something, trying to help her, but then there was a stunning spell...

And then...then she was here.

"Daddy?" she whimpered, unable to stop the words from slipping past her lips. It was childish instinct - the belief that parents could simply hold you in their arms and make anything and everything better by doing so. The adult part of her, on the other hand, didn't want him to be anywhere near here. Xenophilius, so bright and creative and vibrant, might not survive something like this.

"Daddy isn't here," cooed a voice from just outside, and the cell was suddenly flooded with light. It caught Luna by surprise, making her eyes ache, but she barely noticed the pain. The speaker, silhouetted in the doorway, was all too familiar.

Her hand automatically reached into her pocket for her wand, but, of course, it wasn't there anymore.

Bellatrix Lestrange laughed, her eyes glittering horribly, and then reached forward and dragged Luna to her feet by her hair.

"Nice try, blood traitor brat," she growled, dragging Luna out into the flickering light of the corridor outside.

The young witch was soon wishing she was back in the darkness.

***

"We don't want some stupid headdress, Lovegood," laughed the Selwyn derisively. The Death Eater was holding the model of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem in one hand, pulling bits of it off, studying them, and then throwing them to the ground in disgust.

With each piece discarded, Xenophilius slumped further forward, his whimpers becoming steadily more dejected.

"Please," begged the shaking, white-haired wizard, clutching at Travers' robes, "Please! I just want my Luna back..."

Snarling with contempt, Travers pushed him backwards. Physical force was more than enough, but he pointed his wand at Lovegood's chest for extra emphasis.

"Unless Harry Potter turns up on your doorstep," he growled, "Or Dumbledore comes back from the grave, we don't want to hear."

***

Bellatrix Lestrange and Xenophilius Lovegood both did bad things, for different reasons. Technically, they're both villains. Really? Well...who can judge?

Write two letters: One to someone you hurt and the other to someone who hurt you.

I don't think I've hurt anyone. At least I hope I haven't. If I have hurt you, I'm very sorry. It was an accident. I've always tried to be a nice person, even when people aren't nice to me. My mother taught me that. She taught me a lot of things. Just because people don't believe in Nargles she'd say, doesn't mean they are a bad person. Some people are just more closed-minded than others. Such a shame

It makes me sad to say that the other letter is much easier. There are a lot of people I could write it to.

I could write it to Bellatrix Lestrange, who kept me locked up in a cellar for months, and treated me like an animal. She laughed at me, and she called me Loony. I didn't mind the name too much when it was people back at Hogwarts were saying it, but Bellatrix said it like it was something dirty.

I suppose I could write it to You-Know-Who (I'm not as brave as Harry, I still can't say his name). It was all his fault, all the bad things that happened. He hurt my friends, and tried to destory my school. He didn't succeed, but he tried, and that's bad enough.

But, do you know what? I'm not going to write either letter. Because that would imply that I hated them. My mother always said hate was a terrible thing. I don't want to hate anyone, even if they deserve it. It might sound a bit like blowing my own trumpet, but I do like to think I'm better than that.