A/N
Well here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review!
Luna Lovegood added another flourish of red. No, no that didn't look quite right. She sank the paintbrush back into the can of red and added another touch. Hmm... maybe just a bit more.
Yes, that was it.
Ron's eager, smiling face stared back at her from the ceiling, and a bit of red paint dripped from his head of flaming hair. He was finished, finally.
And next to him was Hermione, with her bushy hair sticking out and curls framing her face. She had such wise eyes, Luna thought. She just looked smart. You could almost tell that she spent her days with her nose buried in books simply by looking at her.
But she didn't look proud, and that was the most important thing.
She frowned at the blank space of ceiling on the left. It looked so empty, yet she couldn't fill it. She wasn't quite ready. She didn't really know Harry all that well, because he had spent the train ride asleep and she hadn't seen him for very long that whole year.
But that wasn't the real reason.
She didn't want an image of the-boy-who-lived on her ceiling. No.
She wanted a picture of Harry Potter on her ceiling. She wanted to know something about him besides his scar.
Maybe that spot would have to remain blank for now.
She frowned at the blank spot again, and then hopped down from the ladder. She cleaned up all of the paint cans and scrambled down the stairs to meet her father, who looked exhausted.
"Daddy!" she cried, wrapping him in a warm hug, and ripping the tiredness from him. She didn't want her father to be tired, he didn't look as nice when he was. And when he was tired he would never go down to the river with her to take a walk and pick up shiny stones. Finding pretty things by the river was one of Luna's favorite things to do, and it was ten times better when her father was with her.
Her father smiled, and rubbed her head. "You've got something in your hair, sweetheart." Luna's hand flew to her head, and then she relaxed.
"It's all right, it's only a bit of Ron's hair."
Her father looked alarmed. "Ron is here? Isn't he one of your friends?" He looked around, as if expecting to see a red-headed guest that he wasn't prepared for. They hadn't even cleaned the house!
Luna giggled. Her father could be so funny. "No!" she said, as if it were obvious. "He's on my ceiling, daddy!"
Her father looked even more alarmed, but that only made Luna laugh harder. "I painted him! Him and Hermione, and I'm going to paint Harry too! But you can't see until it's done, all right?" Her father nodded, looking relieved and proud of his little artist. He started to head for his room. "No!" Luna cried, before he could leave. He looked up, startled. "Oh, sorry daddy. I mean, do you want to go for a walk down by the creek?"
Her father smiled again, but it was weaker this time. "Sorry, angel. I'm really tired right now." As if to prove his point, he topped it off with a yawn.
That reminded Luna of something, but she couldn't remember.
"Oh, all right then," she said, feeling slightly distracted. "I'll go alone.
Her father nodded and headed for his room, and Luna opened the door and was met by a burst of light. The sun was up and the wind was warm, and she ran down the hill with a spring in her step, only pausing to pick a bunch of purple flowers. These will be perfect for daddy! Their blossoms looked like ball gowns, and they turned their faced to the sun and blushed delicately.
Luna scrambled the rest of the way down the hill and met the river. It gurgled a buoyant hello and rippled past. Water soaked into her toes, and she wriggled them happily. She knelt and plunged her hand into the water. It snaked past, flowing around and over her hand. She brought it back out and examined the rock that she had grabbed.
It was perfectly pink.
She squealed in delight and stuck it into her pocket, thinking that she might give it to Harry. And then she remembered why her father's yawn had brought back so much deja vu. Harry had been yawning all day during the first day of school. Students were usually told to catch up on their sleep before arriving at Hogwarts, but he obviously had not, and it wasn't like Harry to have a blatant disregard for perfectly reasonable rules. She puzzled over this in her mind, but couldn't come up with anything.
Except.
After her Sorting, during the feast, Harry had eaten so fast. Faster than normal. She hadn't quite taken this information in, because she had been so happy to be at Hogwarts. But she had noticed, and not just because she wanted to look at the-boy-who-lived's scar, because he was her friend. She thought about this as well, but couldn't come up with anything at all. She had just plunged her hand back into the water when she froze.
What had she just heard?
She thought it had been a growl. Maybe it was. But if she didn't turn around she wouldn't have to know for sure, so she stayed where she was, staring at the house. It was a very pretty house, dangling off the top of the hill.
That wasn't hot breath on the back of her neck... It was just the wind.
There was a step.
Now she had to look.
She turned.
A dog.
She felt like she would explode with relief. It was only a dog. It was a huge dog, and a jet-black dog, but it was still only a dog. Dogs didn't have wands, and she did. She drew it out for good measure, just to show that she wasn't afraid of any old dog.
It barked, and glared at the wand with yellow eyes.
It seemed like the dog actually knew what the wand was. Luna frowned. That couldn't be right, it was just a dog. Probably a muggle pet that had escaped from its owner.
The dog stared at her, as if trying to make up its mind about her. It cocked its head. And then it seemed to sigh; a long, lonely sigh.
Luna barely had time to react before the dog was a person pointing a wand and yelling, "Obliviate!"
Xenophilius Lovegood sat down on the bed with a long prolonged sigh. He stared up at the ceiling, deep in thought.
He was startled to find someone looking back at him.
He didn't know who it was, but their red hair was familiar enough. Must be another Weasley. They all had the same fiery red hair. And next to him was a girl that he didn't recognize at all. That was probably Hermione. What a peculiar name. But it suited her.
And then there was a blank spot. Empty. For some reason it sent shivers crawling up his spine. It reminded him of something... something...
A flash of light. A spiral of noise, and a quiver of a touch, of a spirit.
Sun glared. Moon smiled.
Stars twinkled.
But dark was loudest of all.
And light was silent, brooding, watching.
The mirror glowed with an unnatural green light. Like the killing curse. Like Avada Kedavra. Only he didn't think of that.
A flash, again. Spiral and quiver, spirits and stars.
There she was.
"Xeno!" warmth in the voice, visions in the eyes. She was worried, thinking, discovering.
Xenophilius took in, all at once, the familiar beauty in her eyes, her love, her spirit. It was all reflected in the mirror. That wonderful mirror.
"How are you, darling?" he asked, a bit half-hearted. He was tired again. Too tired to speak, too tired to ponder, to realize that this could be the last time he was speaking to her... Why couldn't he have thought of that?
She ignored the unimportant question. Her mind had always thought on a higher level than Xenophilius's ever could. "My discoveries are amazing!" she cried. She was so happy, and it brought tears to his eyes. "Did you know that light could process information?" she asked. Of course he hadn't known that. So he didn't answer. "It can!" she announced, sounding triumphant. "It can remember, it can store, it can have a personality, I think." she dropped her voice, unsure.
"I'm sure you're right, you've never been wrong before." she hadn't. But there was a first time for everything. Only he didn't realize that.
"I've thought of a spell that might use this to its advantage," she murmured, getting quieter, as if someone might overhear. Xeno leaned closer to his mirror, and she to hers.
"What is it?" breathless. Pandora had never invented a spell before.
"It is called the Luxluce spell!" happy. She was happy, and so he was, too.
"What does it do?"
"It summons light. I could reflect it with my wand, send it off into different directions. I might be able to create a spell that can send light to process information, if my guess is correct that light can actually do that..." here she looked doubtful.
"I'm sure it can. I'm sure it will work." it never occurred to him that it might be dangerous, or that Pandora might be wrong.
Days crept like spiders, slowly past, inching along. Xeno was so excited to hear if the spell had worked. But he didn't want to interrupt her work.
It never occurred to him that she could be lying on the floor at that moment, injured and weak, and that if he had used the mirror to contact her he would have known. He could have saved her.
But then a week had crawled by like molasses. And he took up the mirror.
A flash of light. A spiral of noise, and a quiver of a touch, of a spirit.
Sun glared. Moon smiled.
Stars twinkled.
But dark was loudest of all.
And light was silent, brooding, watching.
The mirror glowed with an unnatural green light. Like the killing curse. Like Avada Kedavra. Only he didn't think of that.
A flash, again. Spiral and quiver, spirits and stars.
And then he looked eagerly but nothing was there. Just a blank space. Just empty. Alone and lost, and absolutely nothing.
Nothing.
The blank spot on the wall reminded him of the blank face of the mirror, looking up without a hint of emotion on its face.
And then everything was lonely and listless and couldn't find its way, and no one looked because everything was gone.
And Xenophilius cried.