written for qlfc round 3 (tornadoes, chaser 3)
main prompt - write a fic inspired by a troll doll
optional prompts - (word) cryptic, (color) powder grey, (word) horror
according to wikipedia, troll dolls used to be called "good luck dolls," so this is purely based around luck.
note: Luna is slightly more sane.
thanks to vic and shay for betaing!
Luna's mother, during the course of her motherhood, had taught herto believe in the impossible. Sometimes, she'd said, the impossible was determined by those who were narrow-minded, like a fine line between reality and fantasy. But those who believed in anything could expand their beliefs to accommodate it.
Good luck was one of those things.
"We're going to the Chinese festival!" Xenophilius shouts excitedly, waving the tickets in the air, and Luna's mother jumps to her feet.
"You got the tickets?"
"I did! Won 'em in a raffle," her father boasts proudly. "Got lucky!"
Luna doesn't understand what the fuss is all about, but she celebrates anyway. Any good thing is worth celebrating.
Golden and red leaves crunch underfoot as Luna and her parents walk briskly along the stone path. They're just a few more faces among the parade of families heading to the festival.
There's a little girl walking with her family—her very large, redheaded family—and she makes eye contact with Luna and smiles genially. Luna, startled, returns the smile.
The girl is pretty, she notes, with a smattering of freckles on her rosy cheeks and tinted scarlet hair that turns golden-red in the sun, much like the leaves.
Before she can call out a greeting, however, the girl is whisked away by one of her brothers and Luna loses sight of her in the jostling crowd of redheads.
"Mum," Luna asks, pointing to where the girl had disappeared, "who are they?"
"The Weasleys." It's her father who answers. "They're one of us."
"You mean they're wizards?"
"Shh," Xenophilus hisses, his pale eyes darting around frantically, and Luna wonders why he's being so cryptic. "There are Muggles around, so be careful."
Luna quiets and to occupy her curiosity, she looks around. There's so much to see, so much to take in.
The festival is inevitably packed with people milling around, some selling, some spectating. There are several stalls jammed together at the edges of the cobblestone path, calling out names and prices.
Luna loves all of it.
One particular booth attracts her attention. There's a woman behind the counter, dressed in a gaudy, worn shawl, staring at the festivities absently. Her booth contains nothing. It's empty. Devoid of color, except for the garish scarf. It's quite odd to Luna.
She tugs her mother's arm. "Mum, can we go there?" she asks eagerly, nodding to the stall.
Pandora gives the booth one cursory look and her mouth splits into a wide smile and her eyes ignite with recognition. "Of course! Xenophilius, do you—?"
Both she and Luna glance around. Her father has vanished into the bustling mass. Pandora surveys the crowd before sighing. "Oh well, come along, Luna."
They weave around the clusters of people like a maze, Luna clutching her mother's hand.
There's no one around the stall, but irregardless her mother practically launches herself at the forlorn woman, whose face lights up.
"Pandora? Is that really you?"
"It's me, Jessica," says Luna's mother. "Luna, meet my long-lost friend from Hogwarts. She's a witch, just like me and you."
Jessica smiles warmly. It's a stark contrast from her previous demeanor, and Luna decides she likes this persona way better.
"I was searching for you for ages," Pandora enthuses. "I've been so lucky."
There it is again. Luck. That's the second time she's heard it in two days, and it makes her wonder.
Is luck real?
The bracelet glows as she turns her wrist. The beads catch the natural sunlight streaming in through the window and scatters the reflections everywhere, dancing as she rotates her wrist.
(The bracelet itself is made of powder grey sea glass; the charms are were an additional touch.)
"Mum," says Luna, her voice quivering with awe, "will this really bring me good luck?"
"Only if you believe it will," replies Pandora, a fond smile lighting up her ageless face as she observes her daughter admiring the bracelet.
Her mother dies that year. It's a heartbreaking catastrophe, of course, but it's a whirlwind for Luna. She's with her mother and a Ministry man, watching them wave their wands in a series of complicated movements. The Ministry man demonstrates the spell and steps back to let her mother attempt it. She says the incantation, waves her wand, and then there's a boom. Luna jumps back.
When the smoke from the blast clears, it reveals her mother sprawled on the ground, lifeless.
Luna flies to her mother's body. She crouches and with shaking hands, touches her mother. She doesn't stir.
And that's when Luna breaks. She's vaguely aware of the Ministry man next to her, but she doesn't care. She shakes her mother again and again, her eyes tearing up, but her mother doesn't move.
She's gone, and Luna blames luck.
(Bad luck, in particular.)
The funeral is a short affair, and Luna watches through blurry eyes. She watches as her mother is tucked into a casket bedecked with flowers. Her mother looks serene, peaceful, and it breaks Luna's heart all over again.
And she isn't wearing the bracelet.
That had been several years ago, but that pivotal conversation still lingers in Luna's heart, like an everlasting candle. A candle that solely belongs to her mother, and even after her death, refuses to be snuffed out.
And Luna would carry her mother's candle for as long as she lived.
Luna is wearing her lucky charm bracelet the day she is captured.
She recalls the looks of horror on her friends' faces as she is bound, the charms of her bracelet digging into her skin as her wrists are tied together. She remembers her captors' thorough search after she is shoved into a dank, dingy cell. The Death Eaters find the bracelet but fortunately deem it as nothing of value, so she is allowed to keep it.
She almost rips it off. It's an unlucky symbol, tarnishing her fate. But the thing that prevents her from casting aside the bracelet, is the feeling of solace that accompanies it.
Her fingers brush against the beads, and she envisions her mother's face with vivid clarity, the soft, delicate features, her loving smile, her smooth hands tenderly cupping her cheeks. Luna can still feel her touch, and it haunts her to this day.
But if there is one thing her mother has taught her, it was to believe in luck. Luck would come through for her, be her savior.
Only if you believe it will.
WC: 1075
Written for:
Assignment 12, Gardening Task 2: Write about a good luck charm.
Eagle Day, Xenophilius Lovegood: (plot point) grieving after someone's death; (pairing) Xenophilius/Pandora
Seasonal Challenges: Days - Write about a superstitious person; Shay's Musical Challenge - Kismet: write about fate; Star Chart: (scenario) Someone's luck running out
Best Friends Day: hurt/comfort (genre), 'wounded wings and broken things' (title)
Writing Club: Char App - (location) Malfoy Manor