London, early morning.
"Don't you need to rest at all?"
Luna asked Voldemort from across the sofa in the presidential suite of the Hilton Hotel.
"No." Voldemort didn't even look up as he spoke.
He was skillfully waxing the wand he had recovered, using a set of tools.
The rising sun behind him seemed to gild him in its light.
His expression was serious, his focus absolute. Luna was completely absorbed in the sight of him.
"Hey."
Noticing she hadn't said a word in a while, Voldemort looked up and called to her.
"Ah."
Luna jumped, then blushed and lowered her head.
"I'm already engaged, Luna."
Voldemort lowered his head again and said quietly, "I'm not very sentimental, and for certain reasons, I take marriage very seriously. So don't read too much into things."
"I wasn't thinking anything," Luna protested.
Voldemort kept his head down as he polished his wand. He said nothing, only shrugged.
That made Luna even angrier. She gave an indignant huff and turned away from him.
But Voldemort stayed focused on his wand, making no move to comfort her.
"Aren't you even a little sleepy?"
After holding back for a long time, Luna finally couldn't resist asking.
"I'm really not."
Voldemort straightened up and stretched, then picked up his wand and turned his back to the rising sun to examine it.
From behind, Luna saw him nod.
She could imagine how pleased Voldemort was with his wand, restored to new life.
"If you'd drifted through this world as a soul for more than ten years, you'd probably want to stay awake every moment."
Voldemort finally looked up and gazed at her as he spoke.
"But you got such a big room. What are you going to do if you don't rest?" Luna asked, unable to stop