Daydreams

She remembered the exact shade of blue her mother had worn. Sky blue, like her eyes, like cotton candy to a small child. Her eyes had been her own cotton candy, a sweet treat in a sour world. But her mother had always been that way of course. She had always shown her a sweet world, the side where the aftertaste of a bitter piece of candy was forgotten or had never even existed. Her mother had wrapped her small hand around her even smaller one and there was only warm smooth skin as she stared into those sky blues. Her mother had smoothed her softly into bed with her cotton singing. Luna Lovegood had never had a reason to daydream in those ten years of her mother's existence. One day that all ended. Maybe she understood that vaguely, understood that every good thing has to end at some point.

And that day it had.