Just as sane as you are. For the most part.

thetenspot Prompt 98

Wed, 30 Apr 2008 22:05:39 GMT

Ten times you've lied to spare someone else pain.

1. "Don't worry, Daddy, I'm sure we'll catch some soon."

2. "You're just as sane as I am."

3. "I don't mind. Of course you'd rather sit with them. You're popular now."

4. "I've never stunned anyone before."

5. "This is all very strange, isn't it?"

6. "I'm sure people struggle to answer the question all the time."

7. "Oh, it's all good fun."

8. "Hogwarts doesn't have a Nargle infestation. Why would you think that?"

9. "They're only antlers. I'm sure no-one will even notice."

10. "I love you too."

theatrical_muse Prompt 225

Thu, 10 Apr 2008 20:28:12 GMT

"Do not the most moving moments of our lives find us without words?" - Marcel Marceau.

It was amazing, when you thought about it, that words - just simple words - could have such huge effects on people. They were just a handful of syllables, really. A few carefully chosen vowels and consonants, strung together to make sentences. But, somehow, they managed to convey a thousand different thoughts and emotions.

Words like "the Weasley twins have been sneaking around the Charms corridor" would send the entire student population of Hogwarts running for cover, fleeing from exploding toilet seats and puking pastilles.

Words like "I'm sorry" could earn forgiveness or condemnation. It all depended on the circumstances, and the intonation. Remarkable.

Words like "wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure" always made Luna smile. Rowena Ravenclaw was such a remarkable woman.

Words like "Lord Voldemort has returned" were always heard, no matter what volume they were uttered at. They sent fear running through the hearts of even the bravest witches and wizards.

Words like "I love you..."

Well, that all depended on who was saying it.

***

"I love you."

It took Neville a long time to get the words out. He stopped and started several times. He spluttered and stammered and shook. But he got them out eventually, and that was the main thing.

Luna slipped her hand into his. She didn't reply. She couldn't.

That was answer enough.

***

"I love you."

"That's nice."

Rolf looked at her worriedly. Just nice? Not 'wonderful'? Not 'I love you too'.

No. Definitely not.

theatrical_muse Prompt 221

Fri, 28 Mar 2008 10:45:34 GMT

"Never pray for justice, because you might get some." - Margaret Atwood.

Fred and George were uncharacteristically silent as they made their way to dinner. Business was going well, but the success of their products and mail order service made the demand for new bits and pieces even greater.

The proprietors of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes were stuck. They had plenty of ideas, but they needed a new candidate to test things on. Someone who wasn’t a) a first year or b) Neville Longbottom.

As they were debating the problem – or, at least, debating which Slytherin they should choose – the twins came across a very odd sight.

Skipping down the corridor, with her back to them, was a blonde fourth year blissfully ignorant of the older student levitating an unopened package out of her back pack.

It was odd only because both the perpetrator and victim were Ravenclaws, and because there seemed to be no real motive. Magical trickery in itself was nothing new at Hogwarts. But it was also very useful, because Fred and George found their new test dummy without even having to look very far.

It was all too easy, really, to replace the box of stolen sweets with a box of canary creams. The chirping and flurry of feathers coming from the great hall a moment later was very satisfactory.

“The new batch seems to be working well,” Fred commented.

George nodded. “So are we. Someone needs to keep an eye on the poor and unprotected of Hogwarts…”

***

The twins took to their new role like Nargles to mistletoe.

“You know, Fred, I think we’ve finally found our true calling,” George commented, as they watched a disgruntled – and green haired – Hufflepuff fifth year stalk across the Great Hall. He’d laughed at the blonde girl’s earrings.

“Definitely,” his brother agreed, “Using our talents for good, rather than…”

He paused. ‘Evil’ seemed too strong a word.

“I’d go for ‘bad’,” George said, after considering the use of the word for a while, “It’s not like we’re even doing anything particularly wrong.”

The Hufflepuff was now heading towards the hospital wing.

“Well…”

***

A few months later, they met the girl they protecting face to face. It wasn’t all that hard to see why people teased her.

She was balmy. And that, as Fred often pointed out, was putting it mildly. Luna seemed to have a sign pinned to her back, proclaiming ‘hex me; I’m different, and too sweet to get annoyed’. It was as clear to everyone else as Snorkacks were to her.

Still, they were Weasleys, and they had sworn to look after her. The twins would never go back on their word, and she was rather nice. When you got to know her.

To nice to enact her own revenge, that was for certain. It was lucky, really, that Fred and George had no such scruples.

It was also a good job Madam Pomfrey was rather adept at removing antlers from students. They didn’t suit Draco Malfoy at all.

***

He was a distant relative of Fleur’s, so obnoxious he was being given a wide berth my all the Weasley wedding guests. Even Aunt Muriel didn’t speak to him, and she was so infuriating herself that she tended not to notice it in others.

Fred and George, however, saw this as reward rather than punishment, and were watching him from a distance, waiting for a chance to strike.

“’ave you seen what she is wearing?” he remarked, in a loud whisper, “Not even proper dress robes! And ze colour!”

There was a chorus of laughter, and Fred ground his teeth. It was obvious who they were talking about. She was currently dancing over to one side, arms raised above her head, blissfully unaware of the insults.

“She mus’ be insane, if you ask me…”

And then, just like that, he crossed an invisible line. Yes, she was loony. But she was their loony.

Fred and George exchanged glances that would have sent Hogwarts students running for their lives (or at least running until they were out of the range of any exploding toilet seats). A few minutes later, the Frenchman in question had hair that was a rather spectacular shade of yellow. Just like Luna’s dress.

***

Luna was racing for the astronomy tower. In theory. In reality, she was simply trying to get to a place where she was needed, preferably without getting killed in the process.

Skidding on shards of broken glass, Luna narrowly escaped death at the hands of a burly, masked Death Eater struggling to fit through the window he’d just smashed. She stopped herself falling, but her palms ended up cut to ribbons, and the sticky blood made it impossible to grip her wand properly when she tried to fight back.

With a gasp, she ducked a jet of red light, avoiding death by inches, yet again. The Death Eater, now safely inside the castle laughed, sensing triumph. He probably would have found it, too, if Fred and George hadn’t been nearby, securing one of the many secret passageways around the castle. Ever Luna’s guardian angels, they hit him with a hex so powerful that he flew back into the wall and fel, at least temporarily, still.

Luna didn’t get a chance to turn and thank them. More Death Eaters were pouring in. She could hear shouts and screams from further ahead, and didn’t pause for a second, simply hurled herself back into the fray after wiping her palms on her robes.

“That’s gratitude for you,” remarked Fred with a laugh. “Think I should go after her?”

“I’ll finish here,” said George with a nod, “Be along as soon as I can. Save at least one good Death Eater for me?”

“I can’t promise anything, if you’re too slow,” Fred laughed, waving at his brother before jogging off to join Percy, who was hastening down the corridor in the same direction as Luna.

theatrical_muse Prompt 219

Thu, 28 Feb 2008 18:13:26 GMT

Headlines.

Luna wrinkled her nose, peering over her father's shoulder at the newspaper he was clutching. A very familiar face was peering back at her from the black and white photograph covering most of the main page, although it was wearing a digitally enhanced scowl. His hair was tidier than usual in the picture, too, parted to show the jagged lightning bolt scar.

"'The Boy Who Lies'," she read aloud, shaking her head. "You don't believe that, do you, Daddy?"

Xenophilus shook his head furiously. "Of course not, Luna. If Dumbledore believes him, that's good enough for me. Besides, this is the Daily Prophet. I wouldn't trust them as far as I could throw them, my dear."

"What are the headlines in this issue of The Quibbler, Daddy?" asked Luna, seemingly nonchalant. Her father wasn't fooled for a second.

"Well, I was going to run a wonderful article on Gernumbli magic..." Xenophilius began.

Then he looked up at his daughter's earnest, wide-eyed face.

"I suppose I could print something about your friend Harry."

"Thank you!" Luna exclaimed, beaming, "Although he isn't really my friend, Daddy. We've never even spoken."

Not yet, anyway. It was always just a matter of time.

thetenspot Prompt 82

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 18:22:18 GMT

Ten things that make your day better.

1. Waking up and seeing the paintings on my ceiling. Thinking about my friends always makes me happy.

2. Helping Daddy with the press. I always enjoy helping produce the latest edition of the Quibbler.

3. Breakfast in the Great Hall. The House Elves at Hogwarts are wonderful. They always remember to leave some gravy on the Ravenclaw table for me, right next to the orange juice.

4. Divination lessons. I don't know why Harry dislikes them so much. I find them fascinating, especially when Firenze is teaching. He says I have a rather centaur-like way of looking at things. Most humans are very closed off.

5. DA meetings. Of course. I really miss them this year.

6. Watching the Quidditch. I enjoyed commentating, but I don't think Professor McGonagall liked it very much. I'm happy just to watch now, and support my friends. Ronald, Harry and Ginny are all on the Gryffindor team. I don't have any friends in Ravenclaw.

7. Snow. Hogwarts is very beautiful in the winter.

8. Care of Magical Creature lessons. Hagrid always finds such beautiful and exciting creatures for us to study. Professor Grubbly-Plank was a little dull.

9. Talking to my friends. I like having friends.

10. Going to sleep. Dreams are fascinating, don't you think?

thetenspot Prompt 71

Fri, 08 Feb 2008 23:03:45 GMT

Ten things in your bedroom.

1. A photograph of my mother and I. Wizard photographs are rather wonderful, aren't they? It's so nice to look at the photograph and see her smiling back at me. I'd never forget what she looked like, of course, but she was such a remarkable witch, and so very pretty, that I might have forgotten what I looked like then.

2. Some paintings I've done. I'm not a brilliant artist, although Daddy says I am, and I don't usually put my drawings on display, but the five on my ceiling are very special. There's one of Harry, one of Neville, one of Ginny, one of Hermione and one of Ronald. They're my best friends. I haven't shown them the paintings, actually, but I do think they'd like them.

3. A vase of flowers. They're a little dry now, but they still smell very nice.

4. Some old copies of the Quibbler. I like to do the rune translations when I can't sleep.

5. A great many books. Some of them are for school, but Daddy always encourages me to read more. Rowena Ravenclaw was a great reader, you see, and it's always nice to follow in her footsteps.

6. Some dried gurdyroots. I don't want to risk an infestation of Gulping Plimpies, after all.

7. My lamp. Daddy and I made it ourselves, decorating it with shells we collected on a trip to Cornwall when I was very small. It's very pretty.

8. A biscuit tin filled with butterbeer corks. I only make my favourites into necklaces, but it seems such a shame to throw the others away. You never know when you'll have a use for them.

9. A big comfy armchair, with lots of cushions. It's nice to have something to sit in while I'm reading, even though I spend most of my time downstairs with Daddy.

10. My wardrobe, which is filled with my clothing, naturally. I like my robes very much, but it's nice to wear Muggle clothing sometimes. Daddy says I look just fine, but I do get some very strange looks when I walk into the village. I don't think I've mastered how to blend in with Muggles yet.

theatrical_muse Prompt 216

Wed, 06 Feb 2008 19:54:31 GMT

Impossible.

Luna Lovegood lived an impossible life.

It was the sort of life that many would envy. She drifted through existence like a butterfly, alighting periodically on particularly interesting flowers or colourful stones, before fluttering off again, as light as air.

A charmed life.

She was either unaware of the negative aspects of the universe, or decided to ignore them. With so much beauty in the world, why focus on the darkness? It would pass eventually, as it always did. Light had a habit of shining through.

A blissful life.

Although...perhaps she was more of a thestral than a butterfly. She wasn't beautiful, with untidy hair and silver eyes wide in a face that was a little too pale. Eerie.

She was as clever as a thestral, though neither of them looked particularly intelligent. It wasn’t the sort of knowledge you could learn in books (although Luna was adept at that, when she put her mind to it). It was the knowledge that came only from looking at the world with innocence and hope.

Her mother had given Luna an infinite capacity for hope, and her father had given her the ability to believe in anything that she deemed worth believing in.

A naïve life, but a good one. And, for anyone other than Luna Lovegood, utterly impossible.

theatrical_muse Prompt 205

Fri, 04 Jan 2008 23:10:29 GMT

Talk about a moment in which you wished you had a camera.

Luna Lovegood was the antithesis of everything usually considered beautiful, and never more so than when she was hanging cutlery from the branches of a Christmas tree in lieu of actual decorations.

It was a habit of her mother’s, apparently, and she’d sounded so proud when she explained it that Neville hadn’t even considered it strange.

That was probably a sign he’d been spending too much time with her.

It was Christmas Eve (their first Christmas since the war, in fact). For reasons Neville couldn’t quite fathom – Luna probably didn’t understand them either – he had been invited to the Lovegood’s half-finished house in order to help decorate the tree.

She had already festooned the partially-completed brickwork with holly and icicles before he’d arrived, but there was still plenty of work left to do. Neville had never realised Christmas decorations involved such hard work. Even Xenophilus had consented to help them!

Admittedly he didn’t do very much, and retreated to bed rather early, but Luna was delighted to catch a glimpse of the person he had used to be. He’d been a shadow of himself since returning from Azkaban, although the matter-of-fact way she explained that to Neville had left him half-convinced she was joking.

Like the rest of the Wizarding World, the Lovegoods were still recovering from the after-effects of the battle against You-Know-Who. It was a slow process for Xenophilius, but, if you looked at Luna, humming to herself as she danced around the tree, those tragic and terrible events were a whole world away.

She’d been held prisoner in Malfoy Manor and fought in the Battle of Hogwarts, but even that hadn’t been able to shake her out of the wondrous, hope-filled world she inhabited. Neville was both pleased, and more than a little jealous.

When the battered clock on the mantlepiece began to chime - where had the last few hours gone? – Luna dropped the silver forks she’d been hanging with a clatter. She grabbed his hand and, to Neville’s utter astonishment, dragged him out into the snow.

It was bitterly cold, but the warmth of her hand in his was enough to stop him noticing it. She smiled up at him - beautific - and then let go of his hand, springing away to spin round in the flurry of flakes cascading from the sky, arms outstretched.

“Merry Christmas, Neville,” she said, in between catching snowflakes on hre tongue, and he nodded. For reasons even more mysterious than those behind his invitation, his throat seemed to have closed up.

Luna didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, she turned to face him, grey eyes reflecting the moonlight, and, almost instinctively, Neville drew her to him. She felt terribly fragile in his arms, as insubstantial, as the snowflakes shimmering on her eyelashes.

It wasn’t Luna he was holding. It couldn’t be. It was a ghost girl, an echo of Luna, because she was far too perfect, too wondrous, for the likes of Neville Longbottom.

When you dream about something – someone – for so long, it’s easier to keep them a dream than risk losing it all. The slimmest shadow of reality was better than nothing at all.

However, when her pale face turned to his, and her lips moved to meet his own, she suddenly felt very real indeed.

thetenspot Prompt 54

Sat, 01 Dec 2007 14:25:03 GMT

Ten things you wish could take longer.

1. DA Meetings.

2. The journey on the Hogwarts Express.

3. Fishing with Daddy.

4. Charms Lessons

5. Autumn afternoons. The sort of afternoon when it's cool and crisp and dry, and the leaves are such beautiful colours, and the whole world seems to be getting ready to sleep for Winter.

6. Snowball fights.

7. When I'm helping Daddy proof-read the Quibbler.

8. The Sorting Ceremony.

9. Moments spent with my friends.

10. Moments spent with Neville.

theatrical_muse Prompt 207

Sat, 01 Dec 2007 14:10:41 GMT

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.

thetenspot Prompt 49

Sat, 24 Nov 2007 11:33:13 GMT

Ten questions you will never answer.

1. What happened to you while you were in Malfoy Manor?

2. What was the nature of the accident that killed your mother?

3. Have you ever seen a Nargle?

4. Are you angry with your father for betraying Harry and the others?

5. Do you hate the people in school who treated you badly?

6. Why are you so proud to be a Ravenclaw?

7. Was it lonely, before the DA?

8. Why do you always believe what your father says?

9. Do you miss your mother?

10. What do you think happens after death?

Of course, I don't really know why anyone would to ask any of these questions. I'm not very interesting.

theatrical_muse Prompt 201

Wed, 07 Nov 2007 17:19:12 GMT

Write about something you've lost.

I expect people will be thinking I'm going write about my mother for this, but that's silly. I haven't lost her. I'll always have her!

Shortly after she died, though, Daddy did catch me a baby Heliopath. He found it down by the bridge at the bottom of our garden. It must have got lost or something, because I haven't found one there since.

I don't know if you're familiar with Heliopaths, but they're easily domesticated, at least if you're careful. Cornelius Fudge, the old Minister for Magic, he had an army of them.

They're spirits of fire, but you can even train them to control their flames, so they can burn things at will rather than accidentally (and constantly). To do this, though, you have to keep them in isolation for a few weeks before handling them. Otherwise, Daddy says, they'll be frightened by your touch, and combust, and it isn't a reversible process.

Daddy put him in a box with some fire-proof padding and a little teddy bear (for company), and then we put the box up on my dresser. Then all we could do was wait.

Two weeks passed, and I checked on the box everyday, making sure it was being kept warm enough, and that everything was ok. And then, finally, enough time had passed, and I was able to open it!

But, when I did, the poor little thing was gone. I searched the house from top to bottom, but I couldn't find the tiny Heliopath anywhere. Daddy said it didn't matter, it obviously just hadn't been the right sort of pet for me, but I was still terribly upset. Some of them just can't be domesticated, but I'd felt so certain this one would be.

I haven't had any pets since they. I've been a little scared. I know I'm hardly nine years old now, but what if I lose them too?

thetenspot Prompt 17

Wed, 07 Nov 2007 16:16:09 GMT

Ten quotes that exemplify you as a person and why.

1. Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.

Rowena Ravenclaw said that, you know. She was one of the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and a most remarkable witch.

Daddy always says she's just like my mother. She was beautiful, and clever, and creative.

She designed the floor plans of Hogwarts all by herself, you know.

It was such a shame that she died prematurely. People sometimes say that she died because of a broken heart, which would be a terrible thing to die from. Much more painful than any illness.

Does a broken heart count as an illness? I suppose it is a medical condition, but not one that can be treated. Imagine all the other things Rowena could have accomplished if it had have been curable, and she'd had some extra time to live!

I'd like to be like Rowena Ravenclaw when I grow up. Daddy says that since I was sorted into her house I already am, but I think he was just saying it. I'm not beautiful, and I'll never be as wise as her. People call me Loony at school, you know. But Rowena would have risen above it, and I do the same.

Daddy was in Ravenclaw as well. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff always get forgotten because Gryffindor and Slytherin are the famous ones, who produce the really famous wizards. It's a bit silly, really. Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin were always fighting. Helga and Rowena were good friends, though. Surely that's more worthy or recognition?

I don't really have any friends in Ravenclaw, though. My best friends are in Gryffindor. They're all very brave. Maybe that's why they're worthy of recognition. I wish I could be anywhere near as brave as they are.

2.

Errr...I think I've forgotten what the question was.

theatrical_muse Prompt 199

Sat, 06 Oct 2007 16:25:37 GMT

You've woken up as the opposite sex this morning...

Now what?

Hogwarts was the sort of place were accidents happen all the time. You can't expect to keep hundreds of young, untrained witches and wizards in one spot without at least slight mishaps.

This particular accident, however, was a little bit different.

***

It happened on an apparently ordinary January day in her sixth year. She woke up slowly, enjoying the feeling of being safely enfolded in the canopy of her bed. It wasn't until the other girls in her dormitory also began to wake up, and the screaming started, that Luna realised something was amiss.

Her voice, when she asked what was wrong, was a lot deeper than she remembered. And her hair was shorter, too - there was none of the familiar weight on her shoulders.

When she scratched her cheek, she realised that there was even a faint trace of stubble on it.

Not feeling particularly worried - more intrigued - Luna made her away across the dormitory, past her frightened roommates, and studied herself in the mirror.

The figure looking back at her, although dressed with some difficulty in Luna's patched and frayed night gown, was definitely not the one she remembered. It was taller, more muscular (although not that muscular), and, most importantly, male.

"Oh," said Luna. One of the girls gathered behind her almost fainted.

***

Luna sat patiently in Dumbledore's office, her legs over the edge of the armchair she was seated in.

She'd met the trio in the Great Hall on the way to breakfast. Luna had a Charms lesson at 9 o'clock, and didn't think that changing gender was any excuse to miss it. Harry, however, had persuaded her to go and see Professor Dumbledore first.

He'd kept a remarkably straight face when he told her this (Ron hadn't been so polite), so Luna had been all too happy to obey.

Professor Dumbledore, when he'd found her waiting patiently by the gargoyle for him to return from breakfast, had kept a straight face too, though he'd been rather sat to inform her that it might take a while to locate a counter spell.

She's still wanted to go to her lessons, but the Professor had insisted Luna remained here, for some reason.

Humming to herself while she waited, Luna decided she was rather glad she wouldn't have to get used to this new anatomy. She didn't really like it very much. Later, she'd have to ask Harry, Ron and Neville how they coped.

theatrical_muse Prompt 197

Sat, 06 Oct 2007 16:00:12 GMT

Is there anyone in your life who you feel is exceptionally wise? Who, and how did you meet this person?

Xenophilius Lovegood was working on the latest addition of the Quibbler. His printing press was clattering away loudly, and his daughter, Luna, was curled up in an armchair on the other side of the room, watching his every movement with saucer-like eyes.

She was only eleven - she hadn't even started Hogwarts yet - but she was already convinced that her father was the most wonderful and the most wise wizard in England.

No-one else she'd met knew about the Crumple-horned Snorkack, or how to protect their mistletoe from nesting Nargles. They didn't even seem to care about the terrible things going on within their own Ministry. Xenophilius Lovegood was the only one who dared to speak out about Cornelius Fudge, the new Minister for Magic, and his vendetta against goblins.

Not only was he wise, he was brave too. Even if people laughed at him, he'd always carry on speaking the truth.

"What are you doing, Luna my dear?" Xenophilius asked, when he finally became aware of his daughter was watching him, silent and unblinking.

He turned his attention away from the press, and, wiping inky hands on his robes, moved across the room towards his daughter.

"Oh nothing, Daddy," Luna said with wide smile, giving him a quick hug, which left her own robes splattered with ink from the press. "Nothing at all."

Five things Lavender and Luna did together (for bth_lavenderb)

Fri, 14 Sep 2007 21:17:13 GMT

Harry had been teaching them the Jelly Legs Jinx during this particular meeting. Almost everyone had mastered it immediately. Hermione’s spell had been so powerful that Ron was still wobbling when he made his way back to Gryffindor tower, and even Neville had reduced Seamus to a quaking heap.

Only Lavender Brown seemed to be having trouble with it, a fact which she was not best pleased about it.

She chose to stay behind and practise, but she wasn’t having much look so far. It was hard to tell if you’d successfully jinxed a cushion.

“Your wrist movement is wrong,” came a voice, “You’re flicking it too much.”

Lavender looked up to see a blonde-haired figure with dangling radish earrings sitting at the far side of the room, nose buried in a well-thumbed copy of the Quibbler. She wanted to glare at the intruder, but it was very hard to glare at Luna Lovegood. She was so completely unaware of the ways of the world – the real world – that it’d be like kicking a puppy.

“I could help you, if you like,” Luna continued. Lavender looked slightly horrified, but she didn’t seem to notice. In fact, she put down the magazine and walked over towards the older student, retrieving her wand from behind her ear as she did so.

“Would you like to start?” she asked brightly. “We’re got forty minutes until we’re supposed to be back in our towers.”

“I’ll need longer than that!” snorted Lavender.

“No you won’t,” said Luna, shaking her head and raising her wand.

In fact, it only took twenty three minutes and forty seven seconds for Lavender to master the spell. They were both back to their dormitories in plenty of time.

The next morning, Lavender demonstrated her new knack for the Jelly-Legs Jinx on a boy who tried to steal Luna’s bag during breakfast.

***

The rest of the school was sleeping, but Lavender made her way to the divination classroom anyway, hoping to find Firenze.

Instead, she found Luna, lying on the grassy floor and staring up at the false sky of the ceiling.

“Err…what are you doing?” she asked, tentatively, closing the door behind her. Voices carried in the dark corridors. They’d both be in trouble if Filch caught them.

Luna turns her head slightly to the side to see who is speaking to her, before turning her attention back to the stars.

“Star-gazing,” she answered, as if that was a perfectly obvious sort of thing to be doing in a classroom at almost midnight. “You can join me, if you’d like?”

Well, no, what Lavender would have really liked was for Luna to be somewhere else entirely and Firenze to be sitting on the grass here instead. She lay down on the grass beside the Ravenclaw student anyway. She’d have felt cruel just walking away.

“Firenze said that the skies show we’re living in a brief respite between wars,” commented Luna, apparently under the illusion that this was perfectly acceptable small talk. “Mars is the bringer of battle, and he shows that the fight will break out soon.”

“Ah,” breathed Lavender, her voice quiet, almost reverent. “And you’re looking for the signs as well?”

That was something she could identify with. She remembered the centaur’s speech from her own Divination lesson. It had both fascinated and terrified her.

“Oh no,” said Luna with a shake of her head, glancing over at the other girl once more, “Of course not. I’m not a centaur. I just want to enjoy the stars while I have the chance. It might not be possible soon.”

***

“You missed dinner,” said Luna in a bright voice, “I’ve brought you some bread rolls, if you’d like them.”

She was standing outside a cubicle in the third floor girl’s toilets. The sound of muffled sobbing and sniffling came from inside, apparently getting louder and louder by the minute.

Lavender, who was the source of the crying, didn’t reply, but that didn’t seem to faze the younger Ravenclaw in the slightest. There was a rustle of material as she sat down cross-legged on the tiled floor.

“I know you’re very sad,” she said serenely, “But you can’t be sad forever. Ronald can be very cruel sometimes. He doesn’t usually mean it.”

The other girl sniffed again, loudly, and didn’t answer. However, and to her great relief, Luna didn’t comment any further either. Lavender actually dared to hope that the younger girl had given up.

No such luck. A moment later there was the sound of a cubicle door swinging open, then shut again, followed by a hand appearing underneath the door, clutching a fistful of tissues.

“You can’t be sad forever,” came the cheery voice from outside, “He’s only a boy. He isn’t worth it.”

That was what Parvati had said, but it sounded different coming from Luna, somehow. Much more real.

Another moment passed. A hand reached down to grab the tissues, and Luna beamed.

When Lavender emerged from the cubicle her smile wasn’t quite as bright, but at least it was there, and that was a start.

***

“You’ve got lovely hair you know, Luna,” said Lavender. She held a brush in one hand, and was running the fingers of the other through the long blonde tresses. It had taken nearly an hour to detangle them to Lavender’s satisfaction.

Luna had spent that hour talking about Neville, while Lavender had pretended not to notice, and tired not to smile too brightly when Luna waved at him as he passed.

Lavender, for her part, couldn’t believe she hadn’t realised her friend’s feelings earlier. They’d been living in the Room of Requirement for a few weeks now, and Luna had been at Neville’s side for most of that time.

She should also have guessed that Luna wouldn’t allow her hair to be brushed so neatly without a very good reason.

***

“I don’t like it,” said Lavender, studying the ring on her finger at arms length.

“Why not?” asked Luna, watching Lavender with her head tilted to one side. It was an engagement ring. As far as she was concerned, it was a very nice engagement ring. The diamond sparkled and everything.

“No, not the ring,” said Lavender, laughing slightly, “Everything…I don’t know if I’m ready to get married, Luna. After everything, what if…”

“Do you love him?” Luna interrupted.

“Well, yes, but…”

“Does anything else matter?”

Lavender opened her mouth, and then closed it. She was used to her friend pointing out the obvious, but it never ceased to amaze and amuse her by turns. Parvati was her best friend, obviously, but Luna…

What was Luna?

Luna was the friend who said aloud all the things Lavender was too scared to think for herself.

Lavender lowered her hand, and smiled. “Luna,” she asked, “Would you like to be a bridesmaid?”

theatrical_muse Prompt 195

Thu, 13 Sep 2007 19:54:23 GMT

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?

theatrical_muse Prompt 193

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 19:41:19 GMT

Forest and Creek

Every Sunday afternoon, when Luna was small, her father would take her down to the stream at the bottom of their garden to fish for Plimpies. They'd sit on the bridge with a large supply of sandwiches and a flask of Gurdyroot infusion, and wait. Sometimes they'd stay there until the sun began to set. They never actually caught anything, though.

Luna always believed that this was because of her father's technique, not the lack of plimpies. They weren't stupid creatures. Why would they let themselves be impaled on the vicious fish hooks Xenophilius favoured?

They'd return home empty-handed and, more often than not, extremely disheveled. But it didn't matter, because Luna's mother would help them get their damp clothing off, and she'd sit them down in front of the range with biscuits and cocoa until their smiles returned.

After she died, Xenophilius determinedly continued with the weekly fishing trips, although their return to the house was no longer the most enjoyable part of the day.

When Luna became older, he'd send her down to the stream on her own, with instructions and a packed lunch and, if he wasn't distracted by an article on the Rotfang Conspiracy, a waterproof fire in a jam-jar.

Luna enjoyed the peace and quiet, which isn't to say she didn't like the chaos and noise of her house. It was just that it was nice to get some time to herself to really think.

In Spring and Summer she'd stretch out on the wooden boards to feel the warm sunlight filtering through the leaves on the few exposed inches of her skin. In Autumn, she'd build a nest for herself out of crisp orange leaves. In Winter she'd curl up in a ball around the jam-jar fire. She didn't really pay much attention to the actual fishing on those days.

She still didn't catch any Plimpies, but she didn't really expect to. She hadn't actually put the hook on.

Interview Time (for scribing_scarab)

Fri, 31 Aug 2007 16:16:45 GMT

I was interviewed by Rita Skeeter, although I don't know why anybody would be interested in me. I do hope she doesn't publish this in the Daily Prophet, I don't like that paper very much and Daddy would be very unhappy.

***

1. After the battle of Hogwarts, how do you feel about having to go back to the school to finish your final year?

I'm actually rather excited. I know life at Hogwarts is always a little strange, but each year seems to have had its own set of dramas. Even before the war and the DA there was that nasty business with the Chamber of Secrets, and the horrible things that happened at the Triwizard Tournament. With You-Know-Who gone, perhaps things will go a little more smoothly.

There's a lot of work to be done to rebuilding the castle and getting everything and everyone back to normal. I hope I'll be able to help.

2. Could you explain to the readers, what exactly is a Nargle?

Nargles are a sort of pest, really. Very mischievous. They infest things like mistletoe, and sometimes they steal things. They look a little bit like gnomes, although they're more intelligent, and more of a greenish colour.

3. What is it that you find most interesting about school?

Well, I like the lessons, of course. My favourite subjects are Charms, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. I enjoy learning new things. My mother always liked charms as well. She used to experiment with them a lot. It's a shame that experiments with magic can go wrong so easily. She was such a extraordinary witch.

The very best thing about school, though, is the DA. It was so nice, having friends. Everyone apart from Ginny has left Hogwarts now, so I'm not sure what I'll do next year, but at least I can stay in touch with them all. I don't think I'll make new ones very easily.

4. Last year you were used as a tool to make your father do the Dark Lords bidding. What exactly happened to you while locked away at Malfoy Manor?

I don't really want to talk about it. It wasn't very nice. Mr Ollivander was very kind to me, and so was Dean when he arrived. I suppose we all looked after each other. You-Know-Who tortured Mr Ollivander a lot, but didn't seem very interested in me. I suppose he had more important things to worry about.

Bellatrix Lestrange seemed a bit more interested. She hates 'Blood Traitors' like my father almost as much as she hates Muggle-borns, and she said she always likes having new toys to play with.

5. Staying with the Malfoys, do you believe they should have gotten away with what they did, the way they did, or do you think the family should have been sent to Azkaban with the rest of the Dark Lords followers?

I didn't see the Malfoys themselves very much, but when I did they were always rather nice to me. I don't think they wanted me there anymore than I wanted to be there. In fact, I expect they were just as much prisoners as I was. They seemed a little awkward around other Death Eaters, especially Bellatrix. They weren't comfortable there at all.

I know they've done bad things over the years, but I don't know if any of us are in a position to judge what good and bad actually are. None of us are perfect, are we? Even my father did bad things during the war, but it wasn't his fault, he was just trying to look after me.

Five times Harry made Luna smile (for sayshisname)

Thu, 23 Aug 2007 17:31:09 GMT

"Luna!" Harry shouted, running to catch up with her, "Luna, wait!"

The blonde haired girl turned to look at him, only metres away from the barrier which would let her out into King's Cross.

"Yes, Harry?" she asked serenely, as if they were in a nice, secluded spot and not a busy station. It was even louder than usual, because as well as the squawk of owls and the meowing of caged cats there was an air of panic that now amount of noise could drown out. He was back. They couldn't deny it any more.

"I...I just wanted to say thank you," he said, feeling suddenly awkward now. He'd known he'd have to say something to her, and had began to piece words together on the Hogwarts Express. Now, however, his mind was completely blank.

"For what?" Luna enquired, tilting her head to one side. Her eyes looked even larger than usual. Eerily large.

"For...well, for joining the DA. For coming with us to the Ministry..."

He trailed off. He knew he should say something about how much she'd helped him in those first confusing weeks, just after Sirius had died, when he hadn't been able to accept it or move on or do anything but mourn.

"For being a good friend, Luna," he finished, giving up. It seemed to him to be a rather lame ending to the speech, but the smile that spread across her face told him that it was more than adequate.

"Oh, you don't need to thank me, Harry," she said brightly, "I enjoyed it. Having friends is very nice. I never thought I'd be lucky enough to have any."

She was once again demonstrating her knack for speaking uncomfortable truths. Although, he supposed, it didn't matter that she'd had no friends at the beginning of the year. What mattered was that she had them now.

***

"Merry Christmas, Luna," said Harry. He'd caught up with her in the courtyard, trudging through the snow in a hat and scarf she'd obviously knitted herself. No shop would sell anything so oddly patterned.

"Oh, hello Harry," she said, "You didn't come back Slughorn's party last night. Did you get stuck in the bathroom?"

"Err...no," said Harry, feeling briefly confused before remembering that he'd left the party to follow Draco and Snape. He'd been so caught up in what he'd heard that he'd almost forgotten how he'd come to hear it. "I...I just wanted to give you your present."

"You got me a present?" exclaimed Luna, wide-eyed with delight and surprise. "Oh thank you Harry! I've never got a Christmas present from a friend before. It's almost even better than going to a party with you, as a friend!"

Harry, feeling slightly awkward, handed over the package. It wasn't much, just a box of chocolates shaped like the hare that was Luna's Patronus. He felt a bit guilty about that fact that he hadn't bought her more, even though Luna's smile was so bright it outshone the crisp white snow that frosted the castle.

***

With the situation in the Wizarding World so dire, it was remarkable that Fleur still found time to be so house-proud. Right now she was storming around Shell Cottage, demanding to know who had decimated her flower beds. All that was left of her previously perfect roses were a bunch of broken stems.

Harry could face down an army of Death Eaters, but the sight of the french woman advancing on her house guests was enough to send him running into the garden for cover.

Once there, he found the culprit sitting cross-legged by Dobby's grave, threading the stolen flowers into a wreath. Luna didn't noticed him until he sat down beside her.

"Thank you, Luna," he said, gesturing weakly at the flowers. He didn't know what else to say. Luna simply smiled, and rested a hand on his arm as she passed over the wreath for him to lay on the grave. Harry found her presence oddly reassuring.

***

Luna was sitting outside the castle, watching the sun setting over the Forbidden Forest.

"Are you ok, Luna?" he asked, a little uncertainly. She looked much more serious than usual, but he couldn't tell if it was just the light or not.

"Azkaban was raided by the new Ministry," she said, as if that was an answer. "My father is safe. He's back home now. I'll join him there soon, I expect."

Harry just stared at her, unable to see why this would make her upset. Obviously he didn't like Xenophilius very much, but Luna cared about him a great deal.

"The horn didn't belong to a Crumple-horned Snorkack," she continued quietly, not looking at him. "Daddy hasn't found it in the ruins. It didn't form again after the explosion."

Oh.

"Well," said Harry, "You can't give up all your beliefs just because Snorkacks might not be real, Luna. There are so many other creatures out there. What about the Nargles, or the Wrackspurt? Their existence is just waiting to be proven, and I can't think of anyone better to do it."

Luna slipped her hand into Harry's and smiled up at him gratefully. He wondered what Hermione would have said if she'd known he was humouring her like this, then decided that it was better to not think about it too much.

***

Solemn green eyes surveyed this latest visitor from within a nest of blankets knitted with extreme care by Mrs Weasley, sure to keep her latest grandchild safe from colds, sniffles and, more often than not, his own movement.

Luna regarded him in the same manner. Harry had expected some sort of comment from her - perhaps a suggestion involving dirigible plums and the child's ability to 'accept the extraordinary' - but she simply watched Albus Severus with wide-eyed reverence.

"He's beautiful, Harry," she said, extending a finger down for the child to clutch with a tiny fist.

"I'm glad you think so," the proud father replied, "Since he's going to be your godson..."

After all, there was a whole army of potential godfathers for the youngest and newest Potter. What he really needed was a godmother to teach him to think outside the norm.

Something in Luna's smile told Harry she'd rise to the challenge.

theatrical_muse Prompt 192

Thu, 23 Aug 2007 10:57:52 GMT

Write about a recurring dream you've had.

I'm walking through the Forbidden Forest. It's a surprisingly warm Autumn afternoon and the leaves are crunching underneath my feet as I walk. Weak shafts of sunlight are filtering through the canopy of leaves above my head. I've never been anywhere so quiet or so peaceful.

There is a Thestral standing close by, half hidden in the shadows. I can see its bright white eyes glinting in the darkness. Anyone else would probably be scared of it, but it doesn't look frightening. It looks lonely. A bit like me, really. It's separate from its herd, just like I'm separate from everyone else in Hogwarts.

I think it understands me. It steps daintily across the ground towards, stretching out its dragon-like neck so I can stroke it. Then, before I can touch him, he starts to nudge me. Gently at first, then harder. Its skeletal nose pushes into my shoulder, and I take a step backwards despite myself.

Slowly, but steadily, the Thestral pushes me further and further backwards, right out of the forest and into the sunshine. It's almost painfully bright after the darkness inside.

Once it has guided me across the grounds towards the lake, the Thestral stops nudging me. It watches me for a moment, just the tiniest fraction of a second, before disappearing back into the Forbidden Forest as quickly as it appeared.

I stand on the shore of the lake feeling very confused, and listening to the soft waves which are being whipped up by the cool autumnal breeze. I'm still looking towards the forest, and my Thestral. I don't want it to leave. It's the closest thing I have to a friend here at Hogwarts.

There are footsteps nearby, and I want to run. I want to find that peace again, to be quiet and alone and at home like I was in the forest.

I know I can't, though, so I turn and face them.

At first I don't realise who it is. I could have been looking at myself, and its been such a long time since I last saw her. My mother smiles at me, and reaches out a hand to take mine in hers. Her palm is cool to the touch, and she doesn't seem to be able to speak, but I don't mind, because she's my mother and, somehow, she's here.

We walk along the edge of the lake in silence, watching the giant squid splashing about and the Thestrals flying about above the treetops. I recognise the one I saw earlier. He's joined the herd at last. Its nice to know that neither of us are alone, even if its just for the night.

Claim for albumconcepts

Wed, 22 Aug 2007 17:39:24 GMT

Album: Lovers' Requiem
Artist: I Am Ghost

1. Crossing the River Styx
2. Our Friend Lazarus Sleeps
3. Killer Likes Candy
4. Dark Carnival of the Immaculate
5. Pretty People Never Lie, Vampires Never Really Die
6. Of Masques and Martyrs
7. Lovers' Requiem
8. We Are Always Searching
9. Ship of Pills and Needed Things
10. Denouement
11. This Is Home
12. Beyond the Hourglass

Five Times Luna Came to See Alice in St Mungos (for drooblesnowords)

Tue, 21 Aug 2007 19:40:13 GMT

OOC: I'm back at last. I'm catching up slowly but surely.

Luna Lovegood was never at a loss for something to say. This doesn't mean she babbles. She is simply very good at finding words which, no matter how they are in themselves, actually fit the situation rather well. This was rather strange, really, when you considered her rather distorted idea of acceptable social behavior.

The first thing she ever said to Alice Longbottom, however, wasn't the most profound of statements. It was simply "hello".

Later, she'd tell Alice about her father, her mother, even the DA. For now, though, she was content to sit and listen. Just because Alice didn't speak, after all, didn't mean she didn't have a lot to say. The potential wasn't there, and Luna was never one to take things at face value.

***

"I don't know what any of us are going to do now," said Luna, sitting cross-legged on the end of Alice's bed. "It doesn't seem right to go back to a Hogwarts without Professor Dumbledore, but where else is there? Surely we're all going to be in danger wherever we go? Aren't we best sticking together?"

Alice watched her speaking with doleful eyes. She wasn't very good at giving advice any more, but she was almost as good as Luna at listening.

Shuffling forward a few inches, she pressed a piece of Drooble's bubblegum into Luna's palm.

"Thank you," said the young witch brightly, before blowing a bubble which popped so loudly that the healer on duty jumped and dropped his wand.

***

"He was so brave," Luna enthused, pacing the cubicle instead of sitting as sedately as usual. Alice watched her with fascination, as if she was performing a play, or perhaps about to explode with excitement.

"And then he shouted 'Dumbledore's Army," she contiuned, "And we all cheered..."

She paused suddenly, turning to watch Alice as if she was the centre of attention rather than Luna herself.

"Do you want to hear this?" she asked, and Alice gave no answer, simply blinking eyes that were so enormous in her pale face that they would have made anyone but Luna shiver uncomfortably.

"You should be very proud of him," she added, and she was almost certain that she saw Neville's mother nodding in agreement before pressing a sweet wrapper into her hand. Luna knew instinctively that it was a gift for Neville, not her. She also knew the meaning behind it, and would convey it to him as best she could.

***

"I think I might be in love with your son, Mrs Longbottom. I hope you don't mind."

Luna said this perfectly matter-of-factly, watching Alice over a chess board which was in a rather unique state of disarray. Neither of them knew the actual rules, so they both made it up as they went along. Of course, both believed they were the one who was winning.

Alice knocked Luna's queen off the board with a rook, before jumping across several squares to checkmate the pawn which had replaced Luna's king long ago.

She also handed Luna a scrunched up Drooble's wrapper from her pocket. Luna took this as permission, of sorts.

***

This time Alice didn't give Luna a chance to speak. Rising off the bed like an angel in a grubby flannelette nightdress, Alice pressed two small objects into Luna's hand.

It was her own wedding ring. And Frank's too, of course. They'd fit Luna and Neville perfectly after a few basic charms.

And, for once, Luna Lovegood was simply lost for words.

theatrical_muse Prompt 189

Wed, 08 Aug 2007 11:51:51 GMT

Write about a conversation when what you said wasn't what you were thinking.

August hadn't been as warm as usual. In fact, it had been downright cold, with unseasonal fog and very little sunshine.

Despite the poor weather, and even poorer circumstances, Luna was still packing for Hogwarts. Her father sat on the end of her bed, watching as his only child piled odds and ends only she would consider packing into an already bulging trunk.

It was all too normal. The Ministry had fallen. Albus Dumbledore was...gone, so Hogwarts was probably no more than a shell of what it had once been. The wizarding world was crumbling around them, and although Luna wasn't actually in the centre, she was too close to it for Xenophilius.

"I don't think you should go back to Hogwarts," he said, suddenly. It was a moment of uncharacteristic seriousness, so much so that Luna dropped the gurdyroots she'd been holding all over the carpet.

The worst thing was that she knew his worry was not unfounded, even before he present the carefully constructed argument he'd prepared.

Hogwarts had always been considered safe (or at least as safe as a school for under age, untrained hormone-driven witches and wizards could ever be). Regardless of external events, the students within had always learnt in safety and security.

Things had changed over recent years, of course, what with the Chamber of Secrets, and then that business with Sirius Black. But over all, Hogwarts had remained steadfast.

Now Severus Snape was in charge, with You-Know-Who pulling the strings.

Though she wasn't a Gryffindor, Luna was braver than a lion when she had to be, and smart to boot. It wasn't that Xenophilius didn't think she could look after herself. It was just that you only had to glance at the paintings on her wall to see how much she cared for her friends.

She'd died for them. And, since of those friends was Harry Potter, the chance of that happening was worryingly high.

These were all things they both knew.

What Xenophilius didn't know - or didn't want to admit he knew - was that asking such a question was fruitless. Luna had opened up when she'd found herself actually having friends, like a flower which had been waiting for just the right burst of sunlight. She'd no more betray them than stop breathing.

"I'll be fine," she assured him, and, even though she was thinking the absolute opposite, she knew it was worth the risk.

OOC

Thu, 02 Aug 2007 21:31:26 GMT

Just to let you know I'm off to France for a fortnight, so, although I will have theoretically internet access, my posting will be a little more erratic than usual.

I won't be properly back on the 20th of August. Try not to miss Luna and I too much.