a/n: i had a great idea and a great outline but when i started writing this, my muse just kinda went…
splat.
so, here you go, you've got a crappy fic! it's better than nothing at least, team… heh..
(these words are lyrics from the song that is optional prompt #1)
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chaser 1, qlfc forum, puddlemere united
season 6, round 9
main prompt: Luna Lovegood
optional prompts:
1. (song) Losing You - Dead by April
4. (setting) treehouse
6. (quote) "To light a candle is to cast a shadow." -Ursula K. Le Guin
word count: 1246
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"What are we doing today, Mama?" A nine year old Luna Lovegood tags along by her mother's side.
"I need to get something for the apothecary, little Moon," Pandora strode along the dusty streets, holding her daughter's hand.
"Ooh, we're going to the Herbies?" Luna grinned. Every town had their own section of Herbal Houses for growing herbs for medicinal purposes. The Herbies was the short term name for them, and Luna's best friend Neville Longbottom worked as an apprentice for Pomona Sprout, the local herbal expert.
"Yes, you two can go on to the treehouse if you'd like and if Pomona is okay with Neville getting off early," Pandora said. "I've got quite a few herbs to get, as well as some other things in the city."
Luna clapped her hands in excitement. "Thanks Mommy!" She gave her a giant hug and ran off towards the Herbies.
Pandora watched her daughter go with a smile.
Little did she know that that would be the last time she saw her little Moon.
(Unprepared, to carry on)
/
A few hours later, Pandora was in her lab, testing out a new medicinal mix over her willow burner. The mix was for the blistering fever that was spreading throughout the city at the moment
"Oh, damn," she cursed to herself. She now had to go all the way into the far storage room to get that other ingredient for the mix.
Sighing to herself, she took the pot off the burner and set it on one of the nearby hooks, and headed off into one of the other rooms, peacefully humming to herself.
She had forgotten one essential thing—to turn off the burner.
She realized this when she heard the explosion from behind her, and began to run as the fire started to spread.
She never reached the exit.
(Now I can't make it through)
/
Luna and Neville were in the treehouse when they heard an explosion rock the foundations of the city.
The Alchemist & Apothecary, or the double A as it was called in everyday life, of Little Ottery Catchpole was one of the largest buildings in the settlement, and the fire and explosion that had just torn it down had been massive.
Something had happened.
The mind of nine year old girl usually wouldn't at all be able to process this disaster happening in her life, but Luna was mature for her age. She acted like a child, but on the inside, she knew everything she saw. She saw and she said nothing.
Luna could not say nothing now.
Trembling, sobbing, alone, she ran to the ashes of the building where she had spent hours and hours with her mother, working, laughing, talking, creating.
Her father was there, curling in the ashes. Luna sees him as a black hole.
Luna looked up from her tears. Her eyes were red-rimmed, tears gathering in her eyes, her heart pounding, her mind weak.
But she was standing. She was there.
She looks at her father and she knew that he would not be there for her. He was too far gone.
She would have to be okay for both of them.
She closed her eyes.
She hoped.
"Goodbye, Mum," she whispered.
She breathed in one last breath of air in the light.
(Gone are the days, you were there protecting me.)
/
A shawl wrapped around her, Luna Lovegood sat in the shadows of the city. Her face was completely hidden beneath the deep blue folds of the silky cloth.
She sighed, withdrawing deeper into the shadows. No one paid any attention to her, which she was grateful for. Luna was here to observe the people around her, not to have them stare at her: Little Loony Lovegood, daughter of that crazy old man living in that back room of the rebuilt double A. Crazy little girl, no wonder she's like that, did you hear? Her mother died when she was nine. Father in no shape to take care of her, poor little child: a disgraced family.
She was tired of it all.
Luna closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. She couldn't complain, Luna told herself. She had food, water, a job, friends.
To be honest, none of them really quite cared about her that much, but that was something to be expected. It was alright.
Luna stood, sighing. She needed to get back to the double A to check on her dad. It had been too long, something might have happened.
She darted in between people on the streets. It was nothing new to find a person on the streets wearing such a dark and covering shawl as Luna's, but she still somehow felt the eyes of every person she passed on her—watching, always watching.
After what seemed like an eternity shuffling through the crowds, she finally reached the place that she called home—a small home that was across the street from the back door of the double A.
Luna opened the door to an eccentric arrangement of furniture that her father had set up throughout the house during his idle hours when he had finished with the work on his side newspaper, the Quibbler, and Luna was away at the double A, working.
"Xenophilius?" she called. She had decided to stop calling her dad 'dad.' He had never treated her like a daughter… so why should she treat him like a father? It was cruel, she knew it, but every time she even heard the word 'dad' uttered throughout the streets, her heart felt a little pang of pain, let out a little after being locked up for so long.
"To light a candle is to cast a shadow, Luna, and that is exactly what I am doing now," came the ethereal, slightly mysterious voice of Xenophilius Lovegood. "Would you wait a moment, my little Moon?"
The old nickname sent a little shiver of grief through her, but Luna shook it away. "Yes, Xenophilius." She sat down on the little old couch, patched up with an assortment of colors of fabric and materials: mostly blue and gold.
As she drummed her fingers on the couch and listened to the padding of her father's slippers upstairs, she suddenly heard the eagle door knocker hid the oaken door.
Luna froze.
There was only one person who used that door knocker, and—
"Luna? Are you in there?" came the all-too-familiar voice of Neville Longbottom. His voice brought happy and grief-ridden memories to her mind. They hadn't talked in years, not since—not since—
Luna pushed the thought out of her mind, just like she did with so many others. Just like she did with everything at all.
"Neville? Oh, come in, the door's open." Her voice was shaking, its wispy etherealness gone in the moment. Every time she saw him at the Herbies, she immediately ran off. She avoided him at all costs, coming at ungodly hours to get ingredients to avoid him, the boy who she had once loved and maybe, just a little, still did, even though it hurt to even see him.
Luna took a deep breath and stood.
The door opened.
Everything is going to be okay, little Moon. I love you.
She smiled to herself, just a little bit.
To light a candle was to cast a shadow, as they said. But the shadow is surrounded by light, and maybe one day, that shadow won't be alone in the dark.
(All I need is you.)