The Lovegood house was underground. Only the three chimneys were visible. There were not three fireplaces. Two of the chimneys were fake, and led to a series of increasingly bizarre traps, designed, according to Artemis Lovegood, to catch the owls spying for the Ministry of Magic. If one asked him how the correct owls determined which chimney to use as an entrance, he tended to mumble.

The ground under which the house sat was not ordinary either. Instead of grass, it was covered in three leaf clovers. Three leaf because, according to Mr. Lovegood, the whole four-leaf legend was propaganda spread by the Ministry to draw attention away from the much luckier three-leaf.

In order to enter the house, one had to find the trapdoor hidden beside the only chimney that led to an actual fireplace. There was no handle on this door. Instead, to enter one had to knock three times and recite the names of all seven members of the Bompkin trio, four of which had been hidden away by the other three for being out of tune. Again, this information was courtesy of Artemis Lovegood.

Although the inhabitants of the house were asleep, it was not silent. It was not even very quiet in fact. There were no less than nine owls, four cats, seven parrots, five rats, two mice, and a very old ferret within the main room of the house. Maribelle Lovegood adored animals of all kinds, and was constantly picking up strays to give them a home.

In a very small room within this house was a small bed, which nonetheless took up most of the room, other than a tiny dresser half stuck inside the closet. On this small bed lay a small girl. Her slight form was almost completely dwarfed by a hand-stitched quilt, given to her by a loving grandmother whom she had never met.

Despite being only nine years old, there were none of the usual small girl toys within the room. No animated dolls, no toy animals. In fact, there were no toys at all. Besides the bed and dresser, the only thing in the room were four long boards, which seemed to have been nailed into the wall by either a somewhat blind carpenter, or a nine year old girl whose hammer was more than a little too heavy.

On these awkward shelves sat the girl's prized possessions… books, dozens of books of all kinds. There were history books and mythology books, books about life and books about the ocean. Some were magical, and some were not, but all appeared well taken care of, and well used.

She was called Luna, a name given to her by her mother. It seemed to be appropriate, because even as a baby, the girl rarely cried. She was very quiet, and seemed perfectly happy in a world of her own. At first the parents had thought that something could be wrong with her, because by the age of two, she hadn't spoken a word. It wasn't until her third birthday that Luna spoke, and then it was in complete sentences. She had known how to talk for some time, and merely had nothing to say.

Though the room was dark, Luna was not asleep. Instead she was watching the stars on her ceiling. Her father had bewitched it when she was a baby, so that she wouldn't feel closed in, despite the fact that there were no windows in the house.

A woman, almost ethereally beautiful stood in the doorway. Maribelle smiled down at her daughter and spoke softly. "I knew you'd be awake. Come, let's get you something to eat, so you'll sleep."

Pulling herself out from under the heavy quilt, Luna stood in front of her mother and immediately put her arms out. Maribelle chuckled quietly and leaned down, hugging the girl gently. She patted her daughter's back and felt tears appear in her eyes at the thought of the miracle that Luna was. Only nine years old, the girl was remarkably wise and accepting of things that most adults wouldn't accept. Of course, it helped that her father was possibly the most superstitious wizard in the world.

Leading her daughter into the kitchen, and shushing the half dozen parakeets inside, Maribelle swished her wand around a few times and smiled as a stack of cookies flew from the jar onto a plate, while the milk poured itself into two glasses.

Meanwhile, Luna stood in her tie-dye pajamas. They were incredibly big for her, so much so that that legs and sleeves had to be rolled up several times. As she had been unable to choose a single color or pattern, they were a general mish-mash of dozens of colors.

Romero, a boisterous bird who seemed to hate everything and everyone except for Luna, left his perch, flapped a few times and landed on her shoulder. She raised her hand and patted the bird's beak absently.

Sitting down and patting the chair next to her, Maribelle said, "Sit down, dear, and don't let Romero steal your cookies."

Moving slowly so as not to disturb the bird in question, Luna blinked at her mother. "But I don't mind sharing with him. He likes cookies."

Smiling again, Maribelle nodded. "Sharing is one thing, but you can't let him take all of it. The cookies are for you. You can share with whoever you want to, but you have to stand up for yourself sometimes." At her daughter's confused look, she went on. "Luna, what I mean is… you don't have to give people something that belongs to you if you don't want to."

Pausing with a cookie half-way to her mouth, Luna looked to her mother. "This isn't about cookies, is it?"

Shaking her head, Maribelle set her glass down. "No… no it isn't. Daddy told me what happened with Stuart." She gazed at the young girl intently, waiting for her reaction. She didn't have to wait long. Her daughter blushed crimson and ducked her head so that her straggly blonde hair covered her features. She mumbled.

"It's no big deal. He just wanted to borrow my remembrall." Artemis had given his daughter the globe, used to remind the owner when they had forgotten something, to cope with the fact that she was forever leaving her books lying around.

"Luna, taking without permission isn't borrowing. I know you don't like tattling, but some things your daddy and I need to know about. What Stuart did was wrong. It's okay to tell us. He stole something that your daddy gave you. We'll talk to his parents tomorrow."

At that, Luna shook her head quickly. "You don't have to do that. I'll talk to him. He'll give it back." She shrugged, and the oversized pajama shirt slipped partway off one shoulder. "They always give my stuff back."

Frowning, Maribelle asked, "Who always gives your stuff back?"

Realizing she'd said too much, Luna quickly took a bite of her cookie. Pointing at the wand in her mothers pocket, she tried to speak with a mouthful, grimaced, then swallowed and tried again. "Why do you have two wands?"

Glancing at the wand, Maribelle answered. "This one is from a spell I'm working on, but don't try to change the subject. Who's been taking your stuff?"

"No one… " At her mothers look, Luna thought for a moment before speaking again. "I'll tell you if you tell me what you've been working on." She was always curious about her mothers work, knowing that she was a very talented witch. So talented in fact, that she helped create new spells.

Considering that, Maribelle finally nodded. "Okay, I'll show you what I've been doing, if you promise to tell me what happened to your things, and who has been taking them. Deal?" When Luna nodded, she stood and picked up her wand.

"I've been working on a spell to reverse the effects of the last spell cast on a person or object. Not just a counterspell, but a spell that will work to turn back what any spell has done, not just one spell in particular. At least, that's what I'm trying to make it do. Something's wrong though."

Leaning forward eagerly and letting her feet swing under the table, Luna asked, "Can I see?" Her eyes lit up and she peered at her mother pleadingly. "Please?"

Looking doubtful until she saw the look in her daughter's eyes, Maribelle finally relented. "Okay, I'll show it to you, but you have to stand back… okay?" Luna nodded and scooted her chair back.

Looking around, her mother's eyes settled on a purple apple, which gave off musical tones whenever it was touched. "Okay, your father brought that home from the paper. He's convinced that it's Papalan fruit. I think it's just an apple that someone bewitched to play a joke on him. Let's see." She raised the wand and frowned, as it seemed to vibrate slightly. "Luna dear… I'm not sure this is a good idea."

Luna nodded quickly. "It'll be okay. I just want to see your spell. Please?"

Unable to resist her daughter for long, Maribelle relented and flicked the wand once. Her clear voice rang out almost musically, "Versolas."

Both females looked eagerly towards the apple, but nothing happened. Maribelle frowned and tried again. This time there was a loud bang. Without another word, the woman fell to the floor. She landed hard on the wand, and there was a crack as it snapped.

At first, Luna thought that her mother was playing a joke on her. She slid off of her chair and knelt beside the motionless figure. "Mom…. Mother? Are you okay? What happened?"

She finally saw the sightless eyes staring up at her from within her mother's cold body, and it was then she began screaming.

She screamed louder than she ever had before, so loudly that her father had to shout to be heard, while he shook her.

"LUNA! Wake up. You were dreaming again."

Pulling herself into a tighter ball, Luna blinked the sleep out of her eyes. It was two years since that night. She was eleven now, and about to go to Hogwarts for the first time. She had received the acceptance letter by owl the week before.

Looking up at her father, who had only grown more superstitious since his wife's death, she tried to smile. He failed to notice her shaking and asked, "Was it the Bogsnallers again? Did they try to eat your dreams?"

Pausing before answering, Luna thought about how much Maribelle's death had hurt her father. The Quibbler was his life now, and he poured his heart and soul into it. She hadn't understood this at first, and had resented the fact that he seemed to prefer his work to his daughter. She forgave him though, and didn't want to hurt him further by saying what had really caused her nightmares. As far as he knew, she had come into the kitchen and found her mother that way. No one knew that Luna had watched her mother die, and had in fact been, in her mind, responsible for it.

So instead of telling the truth, she just nodded. "Yes, but it's okay now. They're gone."

Smiling in relief, Artemis ruffled his daughter's hair. "Well then, you get some more sleep and we'll talk in the morning. Okay?" She nodded and he walked from the room, leaving the door open a crack.

Once he had left, Luna closed the door the rest of the way and hid under her quilt. The small bed shook slightly from her tears.