A/N: I don't know where I got the inspiration for this, but it's been in my head for awhile. I hope you will enjoy it. I love reviews - and my reviewers!
"You are my lovely girl, my very, very lovely girl, I love you and I love that you are mine…" Luna sang to her daughter. The two of them lay under a broad-limbed oak tree on Hogwarts' verdant grounds, enjoying a peaceful summer day. Overhead the swaying leaves made dark-and-light patterns on the cool grass.
"You are my pretty girl, my very, very pretty girl, you are my love and I love that you're mine…"
Fiona Reverie Longbottom kept her blue eyes on the tree's limbs, her tiny rosebud mouth pursing as she stared at the waving leaves. She was pale and blond like her mother, with long curly tresses spiraling down her back. And though she had just turned eleven, her hands were tiny and her feet showed were as clear and unblemished as the day she was born. She had never stood upon those feet, never held a spoon or a crayon in her little hands. And though her mother – and her father – sang to her daily of their love, she had never been able to respond to them verbally.
"My very, very lovely girl, you are my very pretty girl, I love, love, love you so…"
Twenty years had passed since Voldemort's defeat. Nineteen years had passed since Neville and Luna's marriage and Neville's appointment to the professorship of Herbology at Hogwarts. And eleven years had passed since their daughter was born, changing their lives entirely.
Fiona had not breathed at birth. She had not cried. She was a scrawny, wizened-looking baby with distant eyes. She couldn't figure out how to coordinate breathing and eating; eventually she just gave up eating and milk dribbled out of her mouth. In the first month of her life, healers at St. Mungo's had to save her life twelve times. It was as though Fiona was determined not to stay long.
And it was a decision the healers supported. "Merlin willing, she'll pass away quietly in the night, and then you can have a healthy child."
Everyone had given up on Fiona, but her parents refused to do the same. Neville spent hours rocking his daughter and pacing with her in his arms. He brewed special teas that were high-calorie and easy on the stomach, and Luna coaxed them into her daughter's mouth with tiny plastic syringes. But there were a lot of dark, dark nights and stormy days. One tempest surrounded Fiona's first birthday, when even the healers at St. Mungo's could do no more to convince the fragile, underweight girl to keep on living. Desperate and frantic, Neville had Apparated them out to a Muggle hospital. The doctors and nurses were horrified by the six-pound one-year-old, and though Neville and Luna had more questions than answers when bombarded by the Muggle health professionals, they submitted to their opinions completely.
Four months after they first arrived at the hospital, they were able to take Fiona home. She came home with a feeding tube implanted in her stomach, with braces and splints for her hands and feet, and several machines designed to keep her breathing, to keep her fed regularly.
And with the diagnosis that she would probably never walk, or talk. They weren't sure if she could see or hear, and they were nearly positive that a series of seizures had wiped out the majority of her brain function. She was always going to be dependent on her parents, and it would be a miracle if she would live past the age of ten.
"You are my sweet girl, my very, very sweet girl, you are my love and you'll always be mine…"
So they had moved on. Hogwarts was their home, and it was where they would stay. Neville's professorship came with living quarters, and Luna had done her best to make it bright and airy. She and Fiona spent their days doing anything Luna's imagination could concoct, things designed to keep Fiona happy.
They were surrounded by community at Hogwarts and Luna loved it. Hagrid was still there, of course, and he always welcomed Luna and Fiona for tea and cookies. Hermione had accepted the Transfiguration professorship shortly after Neville had arrived at Hogwarts, and she, Ron, and their children were frequent visitors to the Longbottom home. Harry was working at the Ministry as an Auror, but Ginny worked with her brother George at the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes store in Hogsmeade, and their family visited as often as they could. Luna spent a good deal of time at the Weasleys' rebuilt Burrow as well; Molly was always happy to see Fiona. And Professor McGonagall, one of Luna's favorite professors, was now more commonly referred to as Headmistress McGonagall, and she made time each week to visit with Luna and Fiona.
It was difficult for Luna to see Rose, Hugo, Albus, Lily, and James running around, although she always acted delighted to see them. Albus had started Hogwarts the year before, and Harry's joyful recount of his son's owl dropping off the acceptance letter had broken Luna's heart. Late into the night she sobbed to Neville. "It's just unfair! She'll never… she'll never be one of them, Neville! She won't have friends like we did, she won't ever get invited to the Yule Ball, she'll never know the freedom we did."
"And she won't ever have to fight an enemy so much larger than anything she can imagine," Neville had responded. "She won't ever have her heart broken by a guy. She won't have to worry about getting perfect grades to please her parents. She won't…"
But it had all just made Luna cry harder.
"My lovely, lovely girl, my sweetheart, my itty bitty pretty girl…" Luna sang.
The clock tower at Hogwarts rang out the hour – noon. During the school year, students would be flocking towards the Great Hall, hungry for pumpkin pasties and potatoes and sausage, but since the summer had begun, the grounds were mostly empty. Neville had suggested a get-away, maybe to France or Ireland, but Luna was suddenly loath to leave Hogwarts.
"Something's coming," she said to Neville over dinner, as lovely summer breezes found their way between the gauzy white curtains in the Longbottom home's dining room, tinkling the wind-chimes hanging from the ceiling. "I don't know what, but we've got to be here for it."
Neville hadn't wanted to discount his wife's sudden feelings, and besides, remaining at Hogwarts for the summer gave him the chance to start working on new Herbology class-work. And, with Hagrid's help, he was cultivating the once-great Hogwarts citrus orchard, which was thriving in a beautiful glass greenhouse near the Whomping Willow.
But so far nothing had happened, just more of the same, and Luna was considering the extremely unlikely prospect that she had been wrong, lulled into a false sense of prophecy by the warm weather and a few too many Lemon Lifters at dinner.
So she sang to Fiona underneath their favorite shade tree, and Fiona pursed her lips and sometimes smiled, as though she loved the feel of the breeze in her hair and the cool kiss of grass on her bare toes.
Luna had her eyes half-closed, enjoying the warmth of the day, and she nearly missed a sudden movement from Fiona. Worried that her daughter was going into a seizure, she sat bolt upright.
But instead Fiona was extending one pale arm in the general direction of sky, her fingers curled tightly into a fist as she struggled to grasp something just beyond the tree's branches.
"What is it?" Luna asked quietly, brushing hair from Fiona's forehead.
Fiona pursed her lips and her eyes jerked to the side, looking towards her mother. She blinked and looked back towards the sky.
An owl practically dive-bombed the tree, crashing to a halt a bit drunkenly on the grass between Luna and Fiona. The tawny brown owl had a pattern of white specks on its back and a heart-shaped white patch on the back of its head, which Luna could see as it struggled to its feet and ruffled its wings. In its beak was a parchment envelope.
Luna reached out and tried to take the note from the owl's beak; it gave her a glare with its yellow eyes and turned its attention to Fiona.
"For her?" Luna asked, and the owl bowed its head, then hopped to Fiona's side and laid the envelope on her chest.
Immediately the girl's breathing quickened, and something like a smile twitched at her lips. Fiona jerked one arm towards the owl, and instead of flying away in fear, the owl merely bent its head and allowed the girl to brush against it before it chirped a bit and flew away.
Luna's heart began to beat a bit faster, and she suddenly heard a strange rushing in her ears. The letter on Fiona's chest was addressed in bright green ink, and Luna recognized the handwriting as she picked it up.
But it couldn't be… unless it was some sort of joke.
"It's addressed to, Miss Fiona Longbottom, Sixth Oak Tree on the Right, Hogwarts Lawn, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland," Luna read, carefully slitting the envelope open. Inside were several folded sheets of parchment. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorceress, Chief Spellcaster, International Confederation of Wizards."
It all looked very real. Felt real, too. And the green ink – classic McGonagall.
But still…
Fiona pursed her lips and moved one hand closer to her mother. Startled, Luna continued reading:
Dear Miss Longbottom,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st.
Yours most sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress
"Ahhh," Fiona breathed.
Luna set the letter down, her head still spinning. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so very proud of you. I just don't know… how did this…? Not that I'm not thrilled, but it's just that…"
She was sounding like Nargles had infested her brain.
"We'll go ask Daddy what this means," Luna decided, and she stood, flicking her wand at the seat cradling Fiona's body. The seat rose into the air and unfolded itself into the cart-like wheelchair that was Fiona's main mode of transportation. Enchanted by her mother, with some aid from Aunt Hermione, the wheelchair went everywhere Fiona did, changing from a supportive seat to a wheelchair to a flat, cradle-like bed as necessary; it held her upright at the flick of a wand and returned to a flat position with another flick. It could be enchanted to roll on its own, but mostly Luna liked to push the chair. She loved to see Fiona's face as they changed environments or saw something particularly astonishing.
Fiona's eyes were locked on the letter, and when Luna laid it on her chest, she managed to jerk one arm towards it, pinning it against her body. "Ahhh," she informed Luna happily.
And Luna recalled her words to Neville – "Something's coming. I don't know what, but we've got to be here for it."
Was it really that odd that she had been right?
