Notes: Anablephobia is the fear of looking up.
She's always been a very demure child. A very fanciful child, too, her daydreams and whimsies always encouraged by her mum and dad, and later on, only her dad, when her mum's gone to rest, because her mum would have wanted it. Her childhood is populated by nargles and crumple-horned snorkacks, and she spends many a balmy summer afternoon in the field behind her familial home searching for billywigs or a nest of wild puffskeins.
There was only one thing that concerned her father, and that was her refusal to look up. She wouldn't even look him in the eye, a fact that irritated her teachers at the magical primary school down the road, and he had no doubt would also anger the professors at Hogwarts, where she was sure to attend. Respect was given by looking others in the eyes, and why wouldn't she?
But she calmly and quietly refused every time, shaking her head in that gentle, ineffable way she had. The few times he put his hand under her chin to tilt her head up, she turned into a statue, her eyes firmly pressed shut and her body trembling so hard, he thought she was having a fit. Alarmed, he'd snatch his hand away, babbling apologies, and as soon as he did, she'd smile that sweet, airy smile and tell him, "Thank you, Daddy, I really don't want to look up," and skip off.
It was baffling, and if there was one thing Xenophilius did not like, it was a puzzle that could not be solved. In between rescuing her from patches of stinging nettles, the harrowing moment she tumbled head-first into the river, and attempting to put out the Quibbler, he attempted to solve this mystery. His daughter herself was of no help. She would only tell him, "I don't like to look up, Daddy," and wander off again, her hair full of wisteria flowers, her feet bare as usual (he despaired of ever making her wear shoes).
It wasn't until he was poring through a very old book on Muggle disorders that he came across a list of phobias. And there, shakily inscribed under the letter 'A', was anablephobia. The fear of looking up. That had to be it! Eyes aglow with the fierce joy of his discovery, he'd slammed the book shut and hurried out of his office, in search of his wayward daughter. This time, Luna was curled up on the sofa with one of her fairy tales, humming quietly to herself. She didn't look up at his wild entrance.
"I've got it!" he blurted out, well aware he sounded utterly insane, and not managing to care.
"Got what, Daddy?" she asked, turning another page in her fairy tale.
"Anablephobia," he babbled, plopping down onto the sofa next to her, still holding the book. "The fear of looking up. That's it! You're afraid of looking up, aren't you?"
"No," Luna said calmly, shattering his hopes. He flung the book down to the floor with a loud thump, heaving a sigh of exasperation.
"What is it then?" he finally snapped. "Why won't you look up?"
Luna set her fairy tale aside and rose to her knees on the sofa, turning and looking him in the eyes. Her pale blue eyes glittered with tears.
"If I look up, then I'll see Mummy, and I don't want to," she said softly. "Not yet."
Struck absolutely speechless, Xenophilius gathered up his daughter in his arms and held her as tightly as he could, smoothing her straggly blonde hair and cursing himself.