Disclaimer – this was done for a competition at HogwartsElite. I own nothing. Hope you enjoy.
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Lysander was staring moodily out one of the rear windows of the house, arms wrapped around his knees, when Luna found him. Tears had stopped falling from his eyes, but the shiny tracks they left and the redness of his eyes remained. She sat down on the floor beside his chair, looking not at her son but out the tall window.
"You know, it's going to snow soon. Do you want to go outside and search for Barggie Beasts with me? You know they like this time of year. They pick holly for their festivals."
Lysander didn't answer. Luna didn't move. She just sat therewith him, staring out the window, until he finally unfolded from his balled-up pose and slid down on the floor next to her. He didn't lean his head against her shoulder the way he used to – 13 was apparently too old to do that – but apparently nearness was enough. Another few seconds, then he finally spoke.
"Mom, what do you do when people are picking on someone?"
Luna made a thoughtful humming noise. "Well, I don't suppose it really matters. After all, you are not what people say about you, so it's okay to let them say what they like, isn't it?"
He frowned and scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, even though his tears had dried long since. "It's not that," he said. "I mean… no one's picking on me. I just wondered. About other people."
She smiled at her son. "Does it bother him?"
He didn't even look surprised that she knew, or guessed, who he meant. He supposed for her, it was fairly obvious. He half expected one of her short, sweet laughs, a sound that always gave him that warm feeling, that HOME feeling. But she just reached over, smoothed down a flyaway bit of his hair and spoke.
"It has to be hard, as a Hufflepuff, being the brother of someone people think is strange," she said. "You know, I knew a few Hufflepuffs when I was in school. It seemed as though unkind words to their friends were arrows that could get through their defenses, when insults to themselves were deflected. I know you love your brother, Lysander. But do you like him?"
Lysander's head swiveled so quickly that he felt a twinge in his neck as he looked at his mother. "What? Of course I like him. He's funny and knows almost everything they ever wrote."
Luna nodded in serene agreement. "And do you trust him? Do you trust your brother?"
"Yeah." This was almost as much a snort as a word. "Who else? He knows all the stupid things I did when I was a kid, and he doesn't tell anyone. And he helps me and Carole and Robbs sneak into the kitchen after hours. And I'll bet if he joined dueling club, he'd out-cast everyone in it."
Again, Luna nodded. "Then you have nothing to worry about."
"But-"
She didn't shush him, he shushed himself and really thought about it. Mom's advice always seemed so silly at first, but it always turned out to be pretty spot-on. So he considered.
"So… I should do what feels right," he concluded at last. "Because if I trust him, then I have to expect he'll tell me if I'm doing something that bothers him."
She put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a brief squeeze. "I think that's a very good way to look at things. Insulting words can be ignored. Words said in friendship never should."
He considered that in silence for a few moments, then smiled, hopped up and went pelting off through the house. "Lorcan. Hey, Lorcan! We're going to look for Barggie Beasts, come on!"
And Luna just smiled. /textarea
