Written by Serena. =]
Soleil Lovegood died on a quiet spring morning; the sun had gently broken through the clouds.
The days that followed aligned themselves with the more traditional spring output: rain. Oh, the plastic sign of grief labeled the distress shuffling through the gardens; how nostalgically the flowers wept. Among the rich fields of sturdy rocks and lime wheat came a marble stone, sculpted in fresh proportions. It was pretty as it was tragic, and the carvings were still rough with overlooked shaves. Haunting, yet with a fresh charm about it, acceptance was beginning to float in the sharp air. Soleil would be remembered accordingly: daughter, friend, wife, and mother.
She could envision her parents now, still and cold over the sudden death of their only child. The pain she had erupted in them, it was a pain no parent should have the duty to bear. To birth and care for a child whom you held all cherished responsibility for, and then to have its presence vanish before your own? There was nothing more heartbreaking for a mother or father to endure. Perhaps because she was a girl, as well, that her elegance made everything a bit more emotional. Boys were naturally rough, and they did not walk down the stairs. They sprinted ahead brashly, careless to the bruises they'd gather along the way. Girls, oh, sweet little girls, they had a lofty quality about them. Their tiny hands gripped the staircase delicately as they traveled down step by step. "How sublime." Or was it that Soleil did neither because out of everything, all she wanted to do was fly. Poor Mr. and Mrs. Kinomoto; they never got to catch her.
Soleil was a friend in a way that she did not judge. She could recall almost every person she had ever met, and her replies would stand so justly genuine. "Mr. Kenneth Donely was the head boy of my house. I liked him so, because he told me he enjoyed the cookies I gave him for Christmas." She did not skip on kindness. "Ms. Alice Wilcroft was a Ravenclaw prefect. She wore a knit sweater and tweed skirt one day that I thought complimented her grace quite nicely." And it was not that she chose it ill to judge; Soleil could not judge. It was a characteristic buried deep under her observations that would remain intact til the end.
She, particularly, would remember the Malfoys. Or, back then, would they have been Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy? Magical, there was something magical that the pair shared. Boundless, the ever consist case of curiosity always gripped Soleil whenever she observed them, the way they held themselves. Perhaps it applied to all the elite in general, but they appeared almost untouchable. Majestically sustained in a cloud raised beyond the limitations of human potential. Romanticism, in almost all its glory, shone in their fair skin and fiery eyes. Yet, Soleil could never refrain herself from truly wondering, how easily would they unravel if one was able to reach them? A simple touch and a result of shatter window-stained glass. Picking up the pieces would only lead to cut hands, and maybe lives were more fragile than she thought. And maybe, it wasn't just the Malfoys. Maybe it was everyone who felt a little bit distant, a little forgotten. The poets, the bullied, the dreamers. No one can ever surpass loneliness. The artists, the scientists, the helpless. All anyone can do is hope that they'll one day be okay. Burdens bother those who think enough to care.
As a wife, Soleil would consider herself as promising. She loved in a way she only knew how to love: with a full heart and an anonymous vacancy for generosity. Blue birds flew past with chirps like tinkling bells, the first stab of love blazing like sunrise. She could no more than truly insist that her passion, compassion, and her heart learned to live compatibly with her husband's and nothing more. But the way she watched him now, Soleil knew that no matter how alive she still felt, he would never acknowledge her energy once more. The blank look in his eyes; the hollow hold of their daughter. He would forever bestow the mark of broken reasoning. Then again, who needs reasoning when one has intuition? There would always be, she hoped, his mischievous spark hidden under his empty gaze. The spark that would inevitably force himself to live out and protect their daughter in a way that he could not save his own wife. "You can't protect her forever," Soleil sighed. "She will have to learn to dance on her own."
And what of their daughter? Little Luna. The bright, glittering smile that shared the night with the same silver peppers sprinkled past the navy velvet. Xeno would care for her, of course, but obsessively in a way that he would never let anything touch her.
Godmother Roxanne Mejia would be kind. Broken, but kind. Her own grievances over the death of her brother would possibly swell most of her being, but she had a lovely heart that would hopefully extend to Soleil's child. Sebastian Mejia was, in his own shape and form, an enigma himself. It was undoubted that the rough, brisk shell he performed gave out a hostile overview, but Soleil could see that there was something more to him. His soul was honest, and there was something beautiful about that. The poor dark carriage just passed for him as well, taking its toll down certain streets of death.
Godfather Cove Courter would be so sorely missed. He was always one to express his feelings strongly, perhaps in multitudes of various colors. Soleil grieved for him, because the idea of having a true friend mourn habitually over her passing made her a little sad. Cove, she desperately felt, was inspired to do great things, and as the carousel span once more around the park, the chance to get off should be allowed to everyone. "Do you think we could go on an adventure again? Just you and me? Oh, I know it's awfully selfish, but we could take Xeno and Luna along the next time. I would just like it to be you and me. Just once more. Would that be all right?" It wasn't the idea of piracy that struck her imagination nor the brocade jackets or the feathery hats. It was the sea breeze that climbed up her hair and the freedom of rotation if they spotted a bird go east. It would be nice to taste the salty air for another day, but Soleil was content on her memories out on the sea, and she hoped Cove was too because nothing would dishearten her more than his everlasting need for a day filled with 'what if's'.
But Luna... Luna would be her greatest downfall. Guilt and shame fueled her last human thoughts, and it would have been quite the surprise if anyone found out that the last feeling Soleil experienced was disappointment within her own barriers. Where will Soleil be when Luna only wants to eat the cookies the way her mother makes them? Where will Soleil be when Luna decides she hates potions class because it's what killed her mother? When will Soleil ever teach Luna that when people say the sky is blue, that they forget it can be purple and orange as well? Or when will Soleil ever have the chance to explain that it's all right to read a book upside down because it's all right to be a little different? "Because, my little sunflower, life is not just about being black and white. You're allowed to be red or pink or green. It just takes a little courage to do so. Yes, you're not in charge of what people think of you, but you are in charge of who you decide to be. That, my silly radish, is what makes you the brightest colored fish in the sea." Perception. She would tell her daughter that life was all about perception, and that no one was meant to be the same, so why bother trying? Because even if Soleil could not be there to to hold her daughter as she sobbed over the latest cruelty of a classmate, she would abide to watching over and caring for her from a distant level. She would always be there; she would always see everything.
She would see the day her husband and her daughter would stake out a week early for seats at the Quidditch World Cup. The made sock puppets as they waited for their tickets.
She would see the day that a pair of Slytherins would steal Luna's shoes and hangt hem off the balcony on the 6th floor of Hogwarts.
She would see the day when Xeno would established the Quibbler out of his maddening distraction over his incurable need to silence his sufferings.
She would see the day Luna would be invited to her first party as a guest to Mr. Harry Potter. Soleil had never been so proud.
She would see the day when Xeno and Luna would arrive at the Weasley wedding and then its ill-fated ending.
She would see the day Luna would be captured during the second war.
She would see the day Xeno would break down because of it, betraying his own side for his vow of protection and parental love.
She would see the day Xeno would be arrested and the termination of her family.
But for now, Soleil would watch as the two walked towards the marble headstone, planted firmly between them, because really, all she could ever do now was just watch.
"It looks empty." Luna said. "It shouldn't look so sad."
"What would you like to do to it?" Xeno smiled defeatedly.
"I think it needs flowers." Luna decided. "But I don't know how to garden."
Xeno thought for a moment. "We can learn."
"Okay." Luna responded. Soleil closed her eyes, walking down the golden streets. "We'll grow roses."