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Dark Matter
Chapter Two: Prophecy
Do you believe in reincarnation?
Because I thought I saw your soul
flashing and dancing on the horizon,
shades of jade and emerald.
Oh, I'm a bad girl because I turned the bad world
into a crystal pearl.
Reincarnation - Susanne Sundfor
The weather began to warm up over the rest of the week, spring in full swing as April reached its peak. Luna awoke on her first Friday back at Hogwarts due to a ray of sunlight slithering its way into a gap in her bed curtains and settling across her face. Othello was curled up around her head, hogging over half her pillow, and the two of them opened their eyes at the same time. Othello stood up to stretch while Luna stared at the gap in the curtains, at where a rectangle of warm light streamed through. The weight on her chest that came at the prospect of beginning another day started to settle in, just as Othello climbed onto her chest to get her attention.
"I know it's good I'm here," she told the Kneazle in a soft voice. Although there was a dangerous part of her that ached for self-isolation, Luna knew there was power in connection, and her network of friendships was a capillary bed giving her what she needed. Even if they didn't fully understand. Her friends and her schoolwork distracted her, gave her a reason to keep moving. Gave her a refuge from her own mind, which was ruthless and relentless when she was alone.
Getting out of bed was getting a tiny bit easier everyday. Her appetite was beginning to return. But what had happened to her was permanent. Like an amputee, the skin would grow over and heal, but the limb would never return. She would never be the same; she would just learn to live without, and sometimes, even after many years, the phantom of what was lost would still be able to cause her pain.
Some days were better than others. Some hours were better than others.
Pulling the bed curtains open further, Luna's eyes lingered not for the first time on the drawer of her bedside table. She lay her head back down on the pillow, feeling exhausted.
Othello began licking at the tears that were leaking out of the corner of her eyes. Luna hugged the Kneazle with both arms and kissed his forehead. "Alright, you've convinced me. I'll get up."
She got out of bed, dressing in her school robes in the already empty dormitory. She tucked her wand behind her ear, but paused when she looked at her jewelry. A Butterbeer cork necklace. Dirigible plum earrings. Other bits and bobs she had collected for various reasons, for which she had been teased over the years.
"What do you think?" she asked Othello, who was curled on the bed. "Do you think I'm Loony?"
The Kneazle stared at her and flicked his lion tail.
Picking up the Butterbeer cork necklace, she held it out for him to see. "Do you think this will keep the Nargles away?" She looked at the necklace in her hand, then back to Othello. "Do you think Nargles are real?"
Othello mewed at her.
Luna sighed. "You aren't very helpful, answering like that," she said. She lay the Butterbeer cork necklace back down next to the rest of her jewelry.
Reaching out a paw, Othello batted the drawer of her bedside table.
Stern, Luna said, "I can't go back. We've discussed this. I've already lost too much. I can't keep living in the past, especially when there's no guarantee it would be any better." Then, without waiting for her Kneazle's response, she left the dormitory.
Coming down from Ravenclaw Tower, she paused at the base of the narrow spiral staircase. This was the place where Tom had led her the very first night they had met. She looked down at the stones in the floor where he had stood as he pointed up the stairs for her, telling her where the common room was. She had not realized just yet who the boy standing in front of her was. He had strutted away from her that night, exquisitely arrogant, like frigid velvet.
Luna looked up along the corridor, half expecting to see him, all long legs and long fingers, cheekbones and collarbones, steeped in careful, calculated control. She shook herself. There was no one there now. That boy was long gone. She had to live without him.
As Luna entered the Great Hall for breakfast, a wave of nausea slammed into her. The usually enticing smells of food were overpowering. She paused in the entrance, her hand reaching out to grasp the door frame for stability, eyes shut tight until the sharpness of the feeling deadened.
Her eyes popped open again, the sounds of students eating and chatting rushing back to her ears. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she meandered to Gryffindor table. She had had dinner with her own House twice that week, but she longed for the distraction of her friends' conversation this morning.
"Morning, Luna," said Neville, as she plopped down into a seat beside him.
"Good morning," Luna replied. She put food on her plate, but then pushed her food around with a fork, eyes out of focus.
Across the table, Harry was tickling Ginny, causing her to squeal and her eyes to water. "Stop it! Harry! Stop!" she cried, laughing. One of her arms flailed out and knocked into a jug of pumpkin juice, which was caught by Hermione's hands before it spilled.
"Don't tell me you're not eating again," Hermione said sternly, watching the progress of Luna's eggs around the plate and righting the jug of pumpkin juice.
"I just feel sort of...funny," Luna said.
"Can you two knock if off?" Ron said, a look of disgust on his face. "You're making me want to spew!"
Luna looked up. "You too?"
"Okay, okay, fine," Harry said, throwing his hands in the air in concession and ceasing the assault on Ginny.
Ginny, for all she had begged Harry to stop, scowled at her brother. "Sorry we're making everyone sick!"
For a second, Luna opened her mouth to explain that it wasn't Ginny and Harry that had made her sick, but then another wave hit her, both of nausea and that nebulous, creeping apathy, and she found she couldn't be bothered to put forth the effort required to explain herself.
A great fluttering overhead announced the arrival of the morning post. Luna was still receiving letters of condolences, as people who knew her father or loyal fans of The Quibbler reached out to her about his passing. So it was not particularly surprising when a screech owl dropped three letters in front of her to open.
The first two were indeed sympathy notes, the first from Amos Diggory. She passed it to Harry so that he could read it when she was done. The second was from an old coworker of her father's, a reporter who had retired from The Quibbler some years back.
The third and final letter, however, was from the Ministry of Magic, and it was with her curiosity piqued that she opened it. "Oh," she said, as she read the letter.
"What is it, Luna?" Neville asked.
"It's just a notice informing me that my father left a will. The Ministry's reviewed the will, and he left everything to me."
Her friends fumbled, unsure of what the correct response was.
"Well, that's...good, right?" Ron said.
"Does that mean you'll still live in your house?" Ginny asked. "You're seventeen, you're of age."
Luna shrugged. "I suppose so. I haven't got any other family. It was always just me and my dad. I'm not sure where else I would go."
"Well, if you don't want to live alone, you can always stay with one of us, Luna," Hermione said.
"Of course, you're welcome anytime," added Harry. "Grimmauld Place will be rather empty now the Order's moved out, anyway."
"And the Burrow's nearby your house," said Ginny, "so you could visit anytime you wanted."
Luna looked from face to face before her, arranged around the table like a picture. Harry's green eyes, Ginny's red hair. The anxiety in Neville's face, the maternal concern in Hermione's, the well-meaning discomfort in Ron's. She started laughing and crying at the same time, much to their surprise.
Hermione reached out to her. "Luna -"
"I'm alright," she said through tears and quiet giggles. "I swear, I haven't misplaced my mind." Ron and Harry exchanged a look. "I'm just so fortunate to have you all in my life. I think sometimes being really sad makes the best things in our lives that much more obvious, don't you?"
Smiles broke out around the table. The conversation move forward and they carried on for several minutes until Ginny glanced at her watch. "Bollocks," she said, "time for Divination, Luna. We'd better get going." Ginny kissed Harry goodbye, then gathered her things.
Luna stood up from the table, having eaten none of her breakfast, and followed the red-headed witch from the Great Hall. They headed for the North Tower, weaving among the other students in the halls. Then up they went through the trapdoor into the Divination classroom.
Luna settled into a pouf at one of the small, round tables. She fiddled with the lace tablecloth as her eyes adjusted to the dim, red light and her nose became accustomed to the heavily perfumed air wafting from the warm fireplace.
Ginny sat next to her and whispered conspiratorially, "I may have fudged my tarot card homework a bit this week. Hope Trelawney doesn't notice. To be honest, I didn't get a deck at the start of term, seemed like a waste of Galleons…."
Before Luna could respond, Professor Trelawney appeared out of the shadows, covered in bangles and beads. "Today, my dears, we will begin the study of pyromancy. To divine the future from the flame, we must channel our energies and join with the collective spiritual subconscious on the astral plane." Her voice was breathy, and she stalked amongst the tables as she spoke, waving a hand in the air to gesture at the collective spiritual subconscious which, it seemed, surrounded them. "I do not expect that many of you will be able to discern the complexities of a flickering flame, however those who do possess the Inner Eye will have much revealed to them."
Ginny rolled her eyes behind Trelawney's back.
"I suspect that some of us may divine some ominous truths this morning, as pyromancy is well-known to tap into the most dark and fearful portions of our futures. As such, I must advise you to steel yourselves before gazing into the fires." Trelawney paused next to Colin Creevey, who sat listening with an enraptured look upon his face. "I'm afraid, my dear, that you are likely to fall ill before the end of the month. If you could be so kind as to meet with me after class, we can discuss your make-up work…."
As Trelawney drifted away, Colin looked downright delighted to hear of his impending illness. "Did you hear that?" he whispered to his tablemate, beaming.
"Now, please obtain the appropriate materials from the shelves here," Trelawney said, gesturing to a large bookcase along the wall. "We will be working in pairs today."
The students began bustling around to get ready. Ginny and Luna were soon back at their table with a miniature fire pit that fit in the center of the tabletop and several different herbs and plants to burn. Luna used her wand to start a small blaze, then the two girls flipped open their books for instruction.
A few minutes later, there were a dozen tiny fires lit in addition to the scented fire in the hearth of the room. Luna and Ginny were overheated within minutes. "Okay, so...we're supposed to see if the smoke goes straight up, or if it billows around a bit?" Ginny said, wiping sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her robes as they read their textbooks. "And if we add laurel leaves, then we've got to listen to the crackles."
Luna was feeling heady from the heat and fragrant air. She had her chin propped up on one hand and was making their fire change colors with intermittent prods from her wand with the other. The flames flashed purple, then green, then orange. "Do you suppose any of the colors make for better fortune-telling?" she asked pensively, eyes slipping out of focus.
"Er," Ginny said, running a finger along the text, "I don't see anything about that in here, Luna."
Across the room, Luna overheard a Hufflepuff girl say, "Professor? Are you alright?" Both Luna and Ginny looked around, and saw Professor Trelawney seated at one of the small tables next to the girl who had spoken. But she had gotten rigid, sitting stock still on the pouf, her eyes staring without seeing as though in a trance. "Professor?" the girl repeated.
Other students were now turning around to look. Then Professor Trelawney spoke, in a voice deep and harsh, most unlike her own: "THE DARK LORD HAS FALLEN."
There was a thudding sound as Colin Creevey knocked his book to the floor as he spun around to gape at Trelawney. Everyone in the class was watching, their faces aghast. Luna's heart rate quickened, her mind which moments before had been muddled now clear, and Ginny's eyebrows were verging on disappearing into her hairline.
Trelawney continued, "THE DARK LORD HAS FALLEN, BUT HE ENDURES WITHIN ANOTHER. SHE WHO GAVE THE DARK LORD THAT WHICH HE HAD NEVER BEFORE KNOWN WILL ALSO PRODUCE FOR HIM AN HEIR. THE HEIR WILL POSSESS THE POWER OF THE DARK LORD. THEY WILL TOGETHER TRANSCEND THE LIMITATIONS PREVIOUSLY IMPOSED. THEY WILL REPAIR THAT WHICH WAS BROKEN, AND THROUGH THEM THE DARK LORD SHALL LIVE. THEY WILL REPAIR...WILL REPAIR THAT...which...was broken…the heir…." Professor Trelawney's head slumped forward, her chin on her chest, eyes fluttering closed.
A brittle, electric silence fell in the room. As the terrified class continued to stare at Trelawney, Luna, heart pounding in her ears, turned her eyes to Ginny. The other girl was staring right back at her, face white as a sheet, eyes as wide as saucers, mouth open in horror.
