"So, darling, what shall we do today? Plant some sneezewort yarrow?" the mother paused thoughtfully, "Or maybe play with the gnomes in the garden?"

"Mummy, when will I get my letter?" the little girl asked suddenly, tugging on her mother's robe sleeve. This had been a topic of much importance to her of late, having seen all the eleven-year-olds around Ottery St. Catchpole being bustled off to buy their new books and wands in Diagon Alley.

"Luna, dear, you're only nine. Don't worry. Your letter to Hogwarts will come in a few years. There is no doubt in my mind," Pandora Lovegood reassured her daughter. It seemed only yesterday that her little Luna was born. It was the night of a full moon, and her father, bless his heart, had been scared straight. Dora, what about the wrackspurts? Lunar events cause them to multiply. But everything had gone just fine, and their beautiful baby girl was brought into the world.

"Mum, can you do some spells for me?" Pandora laughed and winked at her little girl. She stooped down, tapping her on the nose.

"That depends. What are we wanting to see today?"

"Umm," Luna tilted her head, thinking. She suddenly saw her pet rabbit hop into the room. Bella was probably the most beautiful bunny you've ever seen with her thick, soft white fur, huge floppy ears, and a nose that wiggled back and forth in excitement. In Luna's eyes she was the belle of the ball, hence the name.

"Bells," she squealed, running to pick up her self-proclaimed "best friend." The rabbit was surprisingly calm as her hyperactive owner stroked her snow white fur. Luna held the bunny a little closer and snuggled her face into its side. Pandora smiled. So easily distracted.

Luna perked up, her eyes lit with an idea.

"Mummy, can we see what Bells is thinking? I mean, I know she loves me, but I want to see for myself," she proclaimed in the commanding way young children do. Pandora looked thoughtful. "Please, mum! Pretty please! That's what I want to do today!"

Pandora sighed, but then her lips curved into a smile. She laughed again, her violet eyes sparkling. She had never been able to resist her little girl's requests. Besides, she was always up for a challenge, and she might just know the spell that would do the trick. Aparecium was intended as a revealing spell for such things as reversing concealing charms, like invisible ink, but it might just serve them in their purposes today.

"Alright," she said, rolling up her sleeves. She held her arms forward and beckoned for the rabbit. The little girl surrendered her happily, clapping her small hands in delight. The mother walked over to the kitchen counter and set Bella gently on the smooth surface. She looked around, mumbling to herself, "Now where did I put my wand?"

It was not like their house was terribly messy, just lived in. The walls were bright yellow, Pandora's attempt to brighten the place up. They were covered with various portraits of different sizes and frames, each containing the moving face of some witch or wizard that her husband had discovered at one point or another. He often brought home their signed photos, swearing they'd be worth something someday. I'm telling you, Dora. This fellow from Sweden has discovered the most miraculous creature. It has this massive horn and purple scales. . . His magazine may not always be the most reliable publication, but it was his heart and soul poured on those pages so she loved it all the same.

The kitchen had sort of transformed into her work area over the years. Like her husband, she was a bit eccentric but not in the same way. Her hobby involved . . . experimentation. Her favorite days, besides those spent with her family, were those spent swirling around the kitchen trying to modify the Alihotsy Draught into a tamer concoction that could help with depression or the Obliviate spell to target specific memories, both proving to be very useful in her work.

Pandora was an emouvoir, a wizard therapist. Like a metamorphmagus learns to change their appearance, she had learned to control emotions, hers and others. People would come to her if they were suffering from any sort of mental problem, and she would oblige their needs whether with her gift, a spell or potion, or simply lending an ear.

She used those abilities now to make sure the bunny was calm. She pulled out her wand from underneath the latest issue of The Quibbler. A wizard always values their wand above all else. It is like a close friend who knows all your secrets and desires. Pandora's particular wand was twelve and three quarters inches made of a supple apple wood with a heart of veela hair, quite a temperamental wand all in all. Although they worked together well, there were times when the wand would take on a life of its own and collateral damage was created. Pandora was fearless though. Her education at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic had prepared her well; although, her teachers had always disparaged upon her fascination with meddling magic. Nothing good could come of it they warned. That had not been her experience though.

She told her daughter to take a few steps back.

"Now let's see. How does it go again? AH-par-EE-see-um . . . Hmm . . . . Combined with a flick and a tap should do the trick," she mused to herself. Pandora stepped lightly forward; she stroked the bunny with a calming hand. She repeated the incantation, this time with the motion. A soft pink light radiated from the tip of her wand. It was like a wispy vapor. It settled over the rabbit. They watched it. Nothing happened.

"Is that is?" Luna asked, peering around her mother.

Suddenly the cloud began to expand. Pandora pushed her daughter back. It continued to grow creeping off the counter and spilling towards them. Pandora recognized the danger. Magic, although useful, would always be volatile. She turned to her little girl.

"Go outside, my dear. Mummy will take care of this."

Luna ran towards the door. She turned around when she heard her mother's voice. She looked like she was holding off the cloud with a shield of some kind, but it was barely sustaining, the mist pushing around the woman. Within a matter of seconds it had formed a sphere, Pandora in the center.

"Mummy!" Luna yelled. Her mother looked at her.

"Go!" she said calmly, and with a little pop, the circle finally collapsed, leaving Pandora unconscious on the floor and the rabbit nowhere in sight, never to be seen again.

-XXX-

Luna watched quietly as the nurse fluttered about the room, checking vitals and fussing about the little girl. It had been three days since the accident that had put her mother in this state. After it had happened, Luna had run to the neighbors across the village. The Weasley family had responded instantly to the young girl's frantic pleas, and Luna's mother was soon on her way to the hospital. They were taken straight to the fourth floor, spell damage, and Luna was ushered away as the healers stepped in.

Her father had arrived shortly after that while his daughter was being questioned over the events. She told them all she was able. She couldn't properly focus, her eyes sad and dreamy. She was very concerned about her bunny as well, the most immediate loss to her. I just wanted to know what she was thinking. Nothing bad was supposed to happen. Her face tracked in tears. In truth, it all happened so quickly that the girl barely had time to process. She soon became resiliently silent, refusing to utter even a word. Then the tears stopped and she showed little emotion except her desire to remain at her mother's side; on that point she was resolute.

Over the course of those three days, Luna wasn't allowed to hear much but she had been able to figure out that her mother was not improving. One particular conversation, heard while standing behind a door, made her afraid for the first time that her mother might not actually recover.

"Mr. Lovegood, your wife is stable for the moment, but she still appears to be declining slowly. I don't believe that she is in a lot of pain, but we can't know for sure. We have some of our best people working on how to treat her. With spell damage though, there is no telling what went wrong."

The healers at St. Mungo's were quite baffled as to what was happening to her. It appeared as if the spell had indeed had a revealing effect on the woman. From the time she had woken up, only a couple hours ago, she had not been herself. It was clear that whatever had happened to her had affected her mentally. It was almost as if she was suffering from multiple personality disorder, a revealing of all her potential temperaments. But these were not the good ones. She became prone to violent outbursts. The anger was immediate and harsh, the words tearing from her lips as if she were possessed.

"You did this to me, Luna! You and that ridiculous rabbit. That's what I am dying for. Foolish child, it should have been you," Pandora snarled, pulling at the restraints that had been put on her, glaring at her young daughter. Luna cowered in fright, backing into her father and hiding her face in his robes. Xenophilius put a comforting arm around his daughter.

"Dora, please. You don't know what you are saying," he tried to cut in.

"Don't even get me started on you! What do you know about anything?" she spat. "You spend every day with that stupid magazine. Making things up that don't exist. What kind of husband are you?"

She had to be calmed by the healers, using a sleeping draught to help her drift off into a peaceful slumber. Through it all, Luna did not waver in her vigil, even though her young heart felt heavy and her stomach twisted in knots. Had this been her fault? Her father assured her not, but guilt is a powerful thing, not easily dissuaded.

It was shortly after the fluttering nurse left the room that Pandora woke for the last time. It was just before sundown and the light was glowing through the closed blinds, bathing the room in a golden light. Luna had her little hand tucked into her mother's. Her head was laid down in exhaustion. She felt a slight squeeze as Pandora's eyes slowly opened and she came into consciousness. Luna lifted her head from the rough hospital blankets, her eyes wide with apprehension. She pushed her chair back slightly.

"Darling?" her mother asked, her voice scratchy from disuse. Luna remained silent. Her mother was groggy, a side effect of the potion. Slowly memories came pouring back and her face clouded with remorse. She looked so pale and weak. "It's okay, my darling. I promise mummy is herself again. Oh god . . . I remember what I said to you. I am so sorry, my dear. You know that I love you, right? Whatever happens, this is not your fault."

The little girl broke her silence for the first time in days.

"I don't want you to go, mummy," she cried, tears welling up in her eyes. She moved closer. "I'm so sorry!"

"I know that, love. I'm sorry too. No little girl should have to grow up without her mother. I promise, some way, somehow, I'll always be here watching over you. No matter what," she whispered, clinging to her daughter's hand. "And I want you to remember something," she focused her violet eyes on her daughter's beautiful face, desperate to get the words out, knowing the end was near. "Can you do that for me?" Luna nodded through her tears.

"Always stay true to yourself." She took Luna's face between her hands. "You are unique and beautiful and perfect in every way. Never take that for granted. Others may try to take that away from you, but you must always be kind and brave and every bit as good-hearted as I know you are. There is goodness in everyone. Sometimes you just have to find it." Pandora kissed Luna gently on the forehead. She let out a pained sigh as she rested her head against the pillows once more. Her eyes drooped shut as her last breath left her body.

-XXX-

The funeral was a vast and solemn affair. It was held on the outskirts of the Lovegood property. The field was set with a number of solid purple pincushion chairs procured out of thin air by the portly man who was to preside over the ceremony. People had been arriving sporadically throughout the morning, apparting to the Lovegood's house or taking a portkey to the top of Stoatshead Hill and making the journey across the village. Everyone was in their best dress robes; smatterings of deep purples, greens, blues, and blacks could be seen across the gathering. Pandora had been extremely well-liked and respected within the wizarding community, not only by her patients but by all those she met. She had a quirky charm that was impossible to sneer at; even the Malfoys had made the trip out with their young son Draco. All the guests gradually made their way out to the field, next to the weeping willow.

Pandora had long ago requested that she be buried under a willow tree, her favorite tree. She had often taken Luna there for spring picnics. They would lie back on their blanket and watch the clouds as Pandora used her wand to transform them into different shapes, the little girl mesmerized, calling out what they were. The mother liked to personify various things in nature, like the willow. She's just begging to be sat under, all droopy and somber. I suppose I just want to comfort her, discover what has made her weep so.

The stone pillar made for the spot was commissioned by Blishwick's Stone Masons. It was about four feet high, pure white with swirls of gray. Each side was about a foot in length, and they converged to a point at the top. The inscription read simply: Beloved Wife and Mother, Gone but Not Forgotten.

Luna clung to her father's side throughout the day. Xenophilius Lovegood was not having a good time of time of it. His wife's death had hit him hard. The poor man was trying to be strong for his daughter but anyone with half a brain could see that he was suffering. He had just lost the love of his life.

He and Dora had met towards the end of first wizarding war. Fear was at a peak at that time. Witches and wizards were dying every day. Pandora had lost her father and Xenophilius was working for a small rebel newspaper, the only reliable information to be had at that time. Pandora was taken with his optimism and passion for life. He saw the world for its possibilities, no matter how far-fetched. He saw the good at a time when life was in darkness. He encouraged her to pursue her dreams and to never let anyone tell her that something was impossible; belief was the heartbeat of life.

The ceremony was bringing to a close a chapter of his life that he felt had only just began, but even a thousand years would not have been enough. Pandora was his sun and stars. They were supposed to grow old together, maybe even have another child someday. Now he was left with a young nine-year-old girl who had just lost her mother and needed him . . . Or perhaps he was the one who needed her.

She squeezed his hand reassuringly as everyone took their seats. The portly man began to speak, but Xenophilius did not really hear what he was saying. Neither did Luna. Her eyes had been drawn to the quivering nose that was currently peeking around the willow. As she stared more intently, the minute form of a wild baby rabbit hopped into view.

Suddenly everyone stood as Pandora's father walked down the aisle, his daughter's body hovering before him. She was shrouded in a sheer deep blue cloth that twinkled with the stars of the night sky. Her father placed her gently at the foot of the tree and then took a seat next to his wife. Luna's eyes traveled over her mother's body, thinking how small she seemed, before returning to the rabbit, but it had disappeared. She looked around, her gaze searching frantically left and right, but it was as if it had never been there to begin with.

The official continued to speak and soon everyone was paying their respects. So many kind words were spoken that day, a tribute to her good nature. Most faces were shining with tears. As the last person returned to his seat, Xenophilius rose from his chair, his daughter right there with him. He nodded to the official who raised his wand and brought it back down with a gentle swoosh. Lovely green flames formed a circle around Pandora's body. They climbed ever higher, weaving and winding, forming the most intricate web. The roots from the tree broke free of the soil and glided towards the shroud, wrapping around the entire form. The flames suddenly fell back to the ground and there was a bright green flash. As the light receded, her body was no longer above ground. A smooth mound of dirt was visible only for a second before a series of brightly colored wild flowers burst forth, covering the grave. It was done. The crowd eventually dispersed, but father and daughter remained, leaving only when the sun had vanished beneath the skyline.

Gone but not forgotten.

-XXX-

Two years later

She was here! She had finally made it. Hogwarts was everything that she had imagined it would be. The arrival had been captivating. The lighted towers of the immense castle twinkled, their number too great to count. They shone brightly, reflected across the silent black lake. The other students had seemed as entranced as Luna was herself. A series of ohs and ahs had followed that initial procession over the water.

In truth, it had been a whirlwind from the moment the train left the station at platform 9 ¾ in London. Her father had been a complete wreck. His little girl was off to school already. Are you sure you would not rather stay home, Luna, dear? I could use your help at the Quibbler. Besides, what can that school teach you that I can't? I bet they haven't even heard of an Umgubular Slashkilter. Luna had just smiled at him, pecked him on the cheek, and pulled him into a tight hug. She promised to write every day and visit as often as she was able. She had been waiting for this moment for well over five years and as much as she loved her father, she knew, or at least hoped, that he would be fine without her.

Now two weeks into the school year, homesickness was beginning to set in. The newness of the place was beginning to wear off as she figured out where all her classes were, which trick steps to skip, how to elude Peeves. Hogwarts was a quirky place like that. She was also learning which houses to avoid (*cough* Slytherin *cough*), although she liked to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. She loved her own house, of course. Gryffindors were chosen for their courage, chivalry, and determination. She often saw these qualities in her fellow classmates, but not always.

Of late she had noticed certain items of hers had gone missing. It was small things at first, a hairbrush or pair of shoes. Now there were nights when she'd return to the dormitory, walk up the spiral staircase to go to bed only to find that all her sheets and bedding had been removed. Sometimes it was hard not to let these things get to her, but she always tried to remember her mother's advice, and so she responded only with kindness, making lists of the items and posting them in hopes that they would soon be returned. She knew that her classmates were good people, even if some of them did not always act it.

It was when these cruel acts began to spread beyond her house that she almost began to despair.

"Hey guys, look! It's Loony Lovegood!" The group of children sniggered as the young witch passed them. Her pale blonde hair swished dreamily and a smile played at her lips. She was oblivious to their teasing, caught in her own little world. She had just been to the owlery to send a letter to her father and was now on her way to supper in the Great Hall.

"Hey! Loony!" The leader of the group, a foul little Slytherin, yelled as his group of cronies looked on. Desperate to keep their attention, he plucked off his shoe and chucked it in her direction. It caught her unaware as it hit her in the chest, causing her books and things to tumble out of her hands. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stooped to pick up her belongings. She heard their laughter increase as the leader rejoiced.

"Hey! Just what do you think you are doing?" A short red-haired Gryffindor girl in her class named Ginny came storming up to the group. Her friends hung back. They too had been on their way to dinner.

"Just having a bit of fun."

"I can see that. Why don't you go have your fun elsewhere?" she challenged him.

"And why would we do that?" he sneered. His friends jeered, loving this.

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps because we passed Professor McGonagall on our way down. She is headed here now."

"You're bluffing," he replied confidently.

"Not at all. If you listen, I think you can hear her footsteps now. She will be here any moment." She cocked her heading as if listening. He did not seem so certain now. His confidence was waning. As McGonagall did indeed round the corner, he took one last look at Luna and then beckoned to his friends.

"We were just about to leave anyways." They pushed past Ginny and disappeared into the adjacent corridor.

Ginny frowned after them before turning to help Luna with her things. She knelt down next to her and grabbed the girl's fallen Charms book. As she held it out to her classmate, Luna gave her a strange look.

"Why did you help me?" she asked, taking the book from Ginny's outstretched hand. She had gotten so used to standing alone that she could not fathom that anyone would stop to assist her.

"What are friends for? My name is Ginny," she said smiling and holding out her hand to help the other girl up. Luna took it but still looked unsure.

"Luna," she replied. "I don't really have friends. Are you sure you want to be seen helping me? It looks like you've got plenty of friends yourself," she said glancing at the waiting group. They looked at Ginny questioningly. She waved them on.

"I'll catch up in a bit." They nodded and continued down the next staircase. She turned back to Luna. She shook her head, her fiery red hair waving with the movement.

"Yes, but one can never have enough friends. How about you? Would you be my friend?" Before the other girl could reply, Ginny took her arm in her own and pulled her towards the Great Hall. Luna was somewhat speechless as the girl took up talk of classes and professors.

"How are you liking Charms class? Professor Flitwick is the best, isn't he? I'm partial to Transfiguration myself. . ."

Luna smiled. So this is what having friends felt like.