Chapter Three: A Tale of Two Fathers

Some mornings, you can wake up and feel that a shadow has cast itself over you and will fight to stay in its hovering position. It lingers over you, making your day seem long and hazardous but it's never satisfied with just affecting you. It attacks the people around you and more importantly, the people that you love.

Luna was still sleeping when her grey shadow decided to break into the open. She was lying on her bed soundly, this time with her face upwards and not squashed into the material of her rather flat pillow.

The door to the room opened quickly but made very little noise as it did so. Ginny stood in the frame of the door, wearing what appeared to be her clothes from the previous day, Friday. She bit her lip and looked down nervously at her sleeping friend.

She stepped forward and spoke her friends name gently; unaware that she was in fact awake, 'Luna.'

Luna's eyes were half-closed and Ginny began to pull herself closer to the bed to get a good look down at Luna. She was suddenly stricken with panic but her friend's eyes flickered for a second and she slowly pulled herself up to a sitting position.

'Morning,' Luna yawned. 'What's with the early morning wake up call?' she questioned with a smile.

Ginny raised her left eyebrow. 'Early morning?' she repeated with amusement. 'It's ten in the morning, Luna. Early for you—yes but the rest of us were up at seven,' Ginny finished.

'Oops,' Luna apologised with a giggle. 'Sorry.'

'Your father sent you this,' Ginny handed her a small envelope and pulled the curtain slightly so that Luna would be able to read the letter inside. 'I think it's from him, anyway. It was delivered by your owl,' she added. 'You may want to get her checked over, by the way,' Ginny informed her friend but Luna was too occupied by the letter.

Luna eagerly snatched the crinkled paper from her friend's outstretched fingers and began to tear at the paper with enthusiasm. As her eyes scanned the letter, they began to change from full of happiness to a state of shock. Her mouth opened slightly and she looked as though she was about to throw up.

'Luna,' Ginny began, 'you've gone pale like a ghost,' she shuddered slightly at the thought and went back to watching her friend. Luna's eyes were scanning the letter once again, rereading the short note as if it would change. 'What's wrong?'

'You were right,' Luna gulped slightly, as she fumbled with her wand and used a quick spell to summon her clothes and essentials. 'It is from, Daddy,' she looked quite scared. 'He needs me—I have to go and visit him—before it's,' her voice croaked into silence, 'it's too late.'

She rushed out of the room, passing her friend the small note to read, as she crossed the landing into the bathroom. Luna couldn't remember the last time she had got dressed and washed so quickly. Usually she liked to pamper herself for a good fifteen minutes.

She brushed her teeth with very little energy and hardly remembered that she needed to put her clothes on. She hated thinking about what her father had written and the fact that it had been written so long ago and taken nearly a week to reach her. All she could think about was the fact that he hadn't wanted her there and now nobody was caring for him.

Luna pulled the chain on the toilet and she listened as it groaned. The water swirled down and she took a second to wonder where the water would end. However, her pointless thoughts were interrupted by Ginny knocking on the door. Luna quickly opened it and instantly remembered why she had been rushing in the first place.

Before Luna had the chance to say anything, Ginny spoke. 'You can use the floo network—I've just spoken to mother. There's no harm in you going—I read what you father had written,' Ginny rushed. 'Don't worry, Luna. I'm sure everything will be okay,' it hadn't sounded as sympathetic as intended.

'Yeah. Of course it will be,' Luna whispered encouragingly.

'Do you want anything to eat before you go—I mean, Mum can make you something,' Ginny didn't finish her sentence because she could see the stressed look on Luna's face. She nodded to no answer. 'Okay—quickly then.'

Ginny led her down the stairs and Ron greeted them at the door to the front room. He looked at Luna sadly but followed her steps as she and Ginny walked over to the fireplace. Ginny disappeared for a moment but returned seconds later before either had had a chance to speak. Clutched in her hand was a flowerpot full of powder.

'Do you want me to go with you?' Ginny asked timidly and Luna opened her mouth slightly.

'No, she doesn't,' Ron quickly looked at Luna. 'She doesn't need you following her about,' it wasn't a particularly good reason but Luna seemed to understand. 'Would you like me to go with you, Luna?' he asked and Ginny scowled.

'No, she doesn't,' Ginny mimicked. 'She doesn't need you following her around; acting like you know everything,' she smirked, proud of her answer.

'It's okay—really,' Luna mumbled. 'I can deal with it,' she began and then whispered so that the other two didn't hear, 'I hope,' Luna looked at them and wondered whether she would be excepted back, if her father had been delirious and sent her away again.

Ginny gave her the opportunity to take some of the powder, which would allow her to travel. Luna took what she was given and stepped towards the fireplace. She attempted a smile as she stared at her friends but nobody was truly happy.

'Luna,' Ron said quickly. 'If anything happens—come back here. Okay?'

Ginny looked slightly surprised. 'Don't worry.'

Luna nodded. 'Thanks,' she stepped into the fireplace and the powder sprinkled around her body like fairy dust. 'Brambly Cottage,' she spoke clearly.

Luna closed her eyes as the magic transported her through the floo network. She didn't like the idea of seeing all the grates go whizzing past her eyes and this was due to the fact that it often made her rather sick.

She found herself landing on all fours, as her adventurous journey came to a jittery end. She opened her eyes and began to brush the charred soot from her clothes. She looked around her father's familiar study and smiled. It was always good to be home.

Luna stepped forward and watched every issue of The Quibbler that had ever been made. They were everywhere. Some were scattered across the floor, others were piled upon desks and shelves and a select few, were framed on the walls.

Luna left the room and closed the door behind her. The whole house looked as though someone had gone to bed and not bothered to awaken the house the following morning. Her first thought, was that her father was still in bed. This seemed the most likely explanation to his missing whereabouts.

Luna jogged up the first flight of stairs and began to hop across the hallway past a picture of Nearly-Headless-Nick that she had drawn for her father during her first year at Hogwarts. She smiled and took the first door to the left.

As Luna opened the door, she spoke softly, 'Dad?'

As there was no reply, Luna decided she would enter the room without permission. The bed had been made, the curtains had been fully pulled—allowing the warm sunlight to streak across the furniture— and the window was open, allowing a cool breeze to blow her long fringe about.

Luna, slightly puzzled, walked out of the room again, shutting the door behind her securely. She wondered why the bedroom was the only room in the house that looked truly alive. Surely, if her father was in, he would have heard her by now and greeted her?

She checked all of the upstairs rooms, starting with the bathroom. Opening doors to darkened rooms and then shutting them, only to turn around to face an empty, dark hallway. The house was lifeless and dull—not it's usual rich self at all.

Luna knew her father would not be in the attic rooms. That was a place that had belonged to her mother and her father had not been up there for nearly ten years. She found herself wondering aimlessly back down to the first floor of her house. A bewildered smile on her face.

As she reached the door to the living room, her eyes flickered onto a small piece of paper lying on the floor. She picked it up and stared at it curiously. It was a long roll of parchment, crinkled in one corner but apparently blank. Luna knew her father all too well though and took her wand from her pocket.

'Reveal,' she muttered. Words began to appear on the paper and Luna read them as they showed their presence. 'The Ministry has stated that a time of national emergency has started. They have suspended the sending of mail, newspapers and magazines—which is why I shall not be able to send copies of this to all my subscribers. The wizarding world is on hold.'

Luna's eyes bulged as she read the words. 'It has come to my understanding, that this bug—which I may now confirm I have caught myself—has been started by the most terrible of people on our silent planet. Lord Voldemort. I expect this shall come to most of you as very little of a shock but I am positive the source started from him.'

'Due to sources which I have promised not to mention. I have discovered that Voldemort had his Death Eaters release a virus that he and several others had been inoculated for, although this virus does not generally kill magical folk—they can feel symptoms—especially those with large families. Usually it is only the youngest and oldest of children who survive.'

'This virus only appears to be affecting people who live in the United Kingdom and Muggles believe it to be a rare case of bird flu that is spread by the lethal bite of an insect called a mosquito. However, our own Ministry has told us that the source of the illness comes from one of the daintiest creatures on the planet. The butterfly.'

'The virus can not be spread from human-to-human. It can only be spread by sending letters and by coming in contact with any of the air-born particles. There is still no known cure for this terrible illness but wherever Voldemort is—a remedy is sure to follow. I have named this disease, The Butterfly Effect and the symptoms are listed as followed.'

Luna had no time to read the symptoms. All she could think about was the fact she was certain that her father was in that next room. She shoved the parchment into her short's pocket and put her hand onto the silver handle, bracing herself for what was to follow.

The back of the couch blocked her view as she walked into the room. Timidly, she stepped around its towering, wooden features and began to walk around to the side. The Curtains were pulled almost to closure and her father was sitting in the seat beside the window.

'Daddy?' she exclaimed questionably.

Luna rushed over to her father's seat and looked across at him. He seemed to respond to her presence and she quickly took the liberty to analyse his current health. He looked poorly—was her understatement of the year and she quickly ran to the kitchen, making very little sense of what was happening or indeed, what she was doing.

She returned to her father's chair in less than thirty seconds, with a large glass of water. He took it from his daughter willingly, with no words. As he drunk his acquired beverage, he sounded as though he were a burst drainpipe. With little strength, he passed the empty cup to his daughter and wiped his mouth.

'Thanks, my girl,' he almost growled.

'Dad—what happened to your voice,' she asked, slightly scared of what was wrong with him.

'Sore throat. That's all, Love,' he insisted.

'Dad—you have the bug. You should be in bed,' she insisted. 'Recovering,' she added.

'No, Little Luna,' she raised her eyebrow—that was a name she had not been called for years. 'It was far too warm for me up there. No, no.' he mumbled. 'Much happier down here. Look,' he pointed out the crack in the window. 'I can see the swing,' he finished.

Luna bit on her lip. She didn't know what to do or say. It looked as though her father was recovering from the virus—but yet, he was so absent. It appeared as though he was on one side of an invisible barrier and she, was on the other.

'Dad,' she began to mumble. 'Do you need something? Something to eat—you look as though you haven't eaten for days,' she began. 'You haven't, have you?' she then added.

'I've had very little enthusiasm for food over the past week, Luna,' he began. 'My stomach feels as though it is knotting into itself—I wouldn't be surprised if it were,' he added.

'I'll make you something. Spaghetti. Chicken soup. Trout. Cheesecake—you name it and I'll make it for you,' he shook his head at every form of food she spoke of, 'beans on toast?' she added finally, almost in a whisper.

'Luna. I'm not hungry,' he snapped.

'Sorry,' she replied timidly, trying hard not to look her father in the eyes. 'But you have to eat—everyone has to eat or they,' she cut off her own sentence.

'I'm not sure that food is really very important to me anymore, Little One. How are Mr and Mrs Weasley?' he asked suddenly, attempting to change the question.

'They,' Luna thought about it for a little while and decided that the truth would have been too painful. 'They are handing everything extremely well.'

He chuckled slightly and ended up in a small bought of coughs. 'Good, good. I hope you didn't cause them too much trouble,' he raised his eyebrow and managed a small smile.

'Of course not!" Luna exclaimed and then a timid smirk crossed her face. 'But I have been causing havoc for Ron—honestly. He said he'd throw me out the house,' she pretended to pout her lips.

'Ron, eh?' he smiled and sunk further into the chair, allowing his legs to stretch slightly. 'You always did like that boy…'

'Dad!' Luna giggled sadly.

'So did I,' her father finished his previous sentence as though Luna had never spoken. He appeared to be giving her some kind of permission but she failed to notice. 'Do me a favour, Luna. Go get my cloak for me. It's getting rather chilly.'

Luna rushed out of the room once again and headed for her father's study. She had no idea what he was talking about; the house was perfectly warm—too warm. She reached up for his cloak that had been swinging freely on the door and sneezed slightly as dust erupted from its material.

She hurried back to her father and dragged along with her, a chair from the hallway. She gently threw the cloak over her father and sat on the rather uncomfortable chair she had escorted with her.

He took a large sigh, 'that's better.'

They sat in silence for quite some time and neither Luna nor her father made much movement. There was a brief period, when her father had suddenly shifted to the side in pain. However, all Luna could do was to sit there motionless—waiting for any sign of improvement.

Eventually, the hot air and lazy feelings around her, warped Luna into a rather pleasant sleep. Her dreamland was much more impressive than the real world and she wished that she could stay there forever. She attempted to ignore the voice that was echoing around her head. Rattling and churning her thoughts. Eventually, she woke up with a slight moan.

'Dad? What's wrong?' she jumped up suddenly, without observing the situation.

'I need some water—please,' he croaked quickly.

Reaching for the glass he had used early, Luna hurried back to the kitchen but suddenly stopped violently. She could hear her father rasping for breath and it scared her. She froze in her tracks—the crystal glass still firmly in her hand.

'Agh,' she could hear her father groan.

Luna stared at the kitchen door and then allowed her eyes to dart about the different doors. For a split second in time, she couldn't remember which was the kitchen, yet she had been staring at it and now, it was gone. What was she thinking?

Suddenly, the glass that she had been holding broke in her hand. The sharp pain brought her back to reality and she covered her ears for a moment to block out the sound; smudging blood from her fresh wound onto her face. It didn't bother her however, she had more important things to occupy her thoughts with and at that right moment, she made a decision.

Luna quickly forced herself into the living room again, trying very hard not to whimper over her bleeding, left hand. The noise that her father had been making previously had now stopped and Luna was relieved. This was a good thing—she had no doubts.

She rushed over to her father's seat and looked down at him, his eyes now closed. 'Are you feeling better, Dad?' she asked hopefully.

She waited a moment but nothing was said to her in response. Luna crouched down slightly and tried to listen. He couldn't be asleep. Luna knew for a fact that her father snored louder than a pig on roller-skates.

'Daddy?' she muttered. Once again, there was no response. Luna shook him slightly, like a child. 'Please wake up.'

She stared at him, not knowing what was wrong although the answer was looking her right in the face. She took her wand out again and poked him so that a spark of light shot into his chest and then out through his mouth. He fell from the chair, leaving his body as a heaped pile on the floor.

Luna quickly reached down and turned him over. 'No,' she mumbled. 'Please no—that's just not fair,' she spoke to nobody in particular. 'Please wake up, Dad. Please,' she stammered her words. 'Oh, no,' she didn't seem to take any of the words in seriously. 'No.'

Although she tried extremely hard, her efforts to awaken her resting father were unsuccessful and a harsh layer of reality suddenly struck her and it struck her hard. Luna tossed the cloak she had brought for her father over his body and then stumbled over to the wall. She slid down the rough wallpaper and began to sob uncontrollably. She had no one.

The minutes she spent sitting with her back hunched against the wall, turned into almost two hours. She was now just sitting there, her eyes fixed on nothing; red and puffy with sadness. Her fringe had now been dried of tears but was matted and her face was simple and expressionless.

Slowly, Luna shifted her body up the wall and took one last look at her father's body. 'At least you're back with mother now,' she sighed sadly. 'I'll see you again,' she whispered to herself. 'I know I will.'

Luna remembered what Ron had said, although she really didn't feel like going back to the Burrow. However, she would much rather spend the night with her friend— who would be able to comfort her— than in her own house with her father's dead body. It was a quick decision for Luna to make and she soon found herself walking out of the room.

Her hand was still bleeding, yet most of the blood was dry and the pain had spread from her hand to the rest of her body. However, her eyes were as sore as her hand, and no amount of rubbing would make them feel better. It was now time for her to take a turn at her crossroads.

She made her way back through to the study. Thoughts hit her in all directions. She didn't know how she would have her father buried. What would happen to her now that she was an orphan? She needed to know whether she owned the house, belongings and most importantly, The Quibbler—now that her father was gone. To be fair, she didn't really want to think about it.

Luna made her way to the fireplace and took a small, metal urn off of the mantle. She opened the purple lid and took out the powder inside. The fireplace was already lit and so she stepped into the flames, letting the dust and fire engulf her body.

'The Burrow,' she whispered in a lifeless voice.

Once again, Luna closed her eyes as she traveled down the network. However, nothing could have prepared her for the stop she was about to receive and so when she did find herself hurled into a wall, it was unsurprising that she would generally, be confused.

Luna opened her eyes and was face to face with a stone wall. She could hear people speaking at the other side but not well enough to make out the words that they were saying. One phrase that she was sure she had heard was, 'dad's gone mad.'

Not having hardly any space to move, Luna began to kick at the wall numerous amounts of times. She silenced herself for a moment to listen. The other side of the wall— where she supposed the people were—was now quiet as well.

Suddenly, Luna was no longer alone. A second person had apperated into the space behind the fireplace to find out who had arrived. It was dark though and neither person could see the other. Suddenly a bright light shone into Luna's face, as the other person shone their wand above their heads.

'It's all right, Mum,' came the distinct voice of George Weasley. 'It's just, Luna,' he stared at her for a moment, 'and she doesn't look too well,' he added.

Then, Luna found herself able to breathe properly again, as George had now apperated out of the small space, giving her back some room. Her break was not for long, as this time Fred Weasley apperated into the room.

'Okay—Mums going to blow down Dad's handiwork,' he began and Luna looked quite startled. 'Make sure you cover your face,' he added and then disappeared from the room.

Luna did as she was told and no more than fifteen seconds later, a huge explosion made her fall over. She remained there for a moment but was helped to her feet by Ron. Before she could say thank you, she was engulfed in a hug given by Ginny.

Mrs Weasley began to mutter some words and swished her wand about dangerously. Fred and George retired up to their bedroom, with very little to say and Ginny pulled Luna into the kitchen. Luna did not need to be told to sit down; she found that the chair was rather calling to her.

'Luna!' Ginny suddenly exclaimed, 'what on earth happened to your poor hand?' she quickly rushed over to the kitchen sink and began to soak a towel with warm water.

Luna spoke in almost a whisper. 'I just broke a glass—that's all,' she admitted.

'Why didn't you clean it up?' Ron asked, 'I think there's some glass in there still,' he exclaimed, examining her hand from the other side of the table.

'I,' Luna stammered. 'Forgot.'

'Dad's not very well, Luna. Sorry about the whole being trapped behind the fireplace thing,' she began, placing the warm towel on Luna's hand. 'He's gone a bit funny in the head,' she muttered. 'Not sure why. He's been playing with that rubber duck for hours—after he boarded up the fireplace that is,' she continued. 'How's your Dad, Luna?' she added finally.

'Dead.'

There was an awkward silence and Ron gulped so heavily that it echoed around the kitchen. Luna continued to stare at her wound, making no effort to clean it. No fresh tears spilt from her eyes however, there were none left, as she had harvested them all.

'I'm so sorry, Luna,' Ginny whispered.

'Don't worry—we'll look after you,' Ron added.

'Thanks,' she whispered into the table.

They heard two sets of feet rush down the stairs. This was followed by a lot of shouting and then three pairs of feet rushed back up the stairs. Both Ginny and Ron seemed quite startled by these actions but Luna just continued to watch her hand, as though it were about to drop off.

'I'll go check on that,' Ron muttered and smiled encouragingly as he left.

'Luna—you need to clean those cuts,' Ginny said quickly, she hated to sit in silence. 'You don't want it to become infected. Do you?' she asked.

Luna thought about the question very precisely and then shook her head. 'No.'

She began to dab the blood away from her wound and cringed as the open flesh stung. It was a pleasant feeling. It sent a wave of pins and needles up to her mouth and then allowed a ripping surge up towards her brain.

She stood up and washed the towel, startled by the amazing amount of red that washed from the fabric and then ran the cold water over her hand under the tap. She was positive that no glass remained in her skin and she turned back to Ginny, holding the towel in her hand.

'Just put it in the basket under the sink,' Ginny said quickly. 'Here, wrap this around the cut—it's still bleeding and you don't want to get anything in it.'

Luna took a bandage from her friend appreciatively. 'Thanks, Nurse Ginny,' she smiled and Ginny rolled her eyes with a giggle.

'You're welcome, my first patient. I think you should wash you face to,' she added with a sparkly smile, 'you're covered in soot!'

Luna, feeling stupid that she had been sitting there all that time, covered in the debris from traveling via the floo network, quickly washed her face off at the sink. For a couple of seconds, they stood in peace and for a moment, Luna was satisfied.

'Ginny,' interrupted their thoughts.

'That's my name—don't wear it out!' Ginny smiled happily, as she turned to face her brother with a cheery smile. The edge of her lips collapsed when she saw Ron's face. 'Oh.'

'Dad's gone now,' Ron walked over to the sink and poured himself a cup of water. 'He apologised for destroying the fireplace—asked for his bloody rubber duck and then, died,' Ron exclaimed with a bloated lip.

'If you want to go and see him—go now. Mum sent me away,' he added.

'No,' Ginny whispered. 'No—I don't want to. I've seen enough.'

The clock in the living room began to chime and Luna knew that a new ticker had just been added to the bottom of the clock and that one of the pointers would now have gone. She looked across at Ginny, unsure of what to say.

'I know how you feel,' she mumbled. 'I truly do.'

Without saying anything, Ron joined Luna and Ginny at the table. They sat in silence and wondered how many more lives would be stolen from them. After all, the summer was only three weeks in and butterflies don't die until the first autumn leaves fall. Thank God, autumn was predicted early that year.