Author: Lucinda
Rated t for teen
Main character: Luna Lovegood
Disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to anyone that you've seen in the pages of a Harry Potter book. Even if I might be gentler to them than JKR.
Notes: a Pottery Shard – not connected to any other story fragment. One possible explanation for 'nargles'.
….
The worn leather pouch sat with long cords tangled around it, slumping to the side. N. Argyle had been dyed into the side, though the letters were faded from years of handling. A frail looking girl with long blonde hair sat beside the pouch, with a newspaper article spread in front of her. The article had pictures of a blond boy in robes, some of them showing him beside a blond man with a striking family resemblance, at the boy's birthday celebration this past spring.
Draco and Lucius Malfoy.
"I do know that cousin Lucius is far from my reach right now. He's also likely far more dangerous than I can handle. But what about Draco? He's just fifteen – not everyone's path is set by that age." Luna Lovegood frowned at the picture.
She weighed what she knew about her cousin Draco. Apart from the details of exactly how they were related, he was a year older than her and entering his fifth year at Hogwarts to her fourth. They'd rarely talked. He'd been sorted into Slytherin, known for their cunning and ambition, as well as for having the most Death Eaters of any Hogwarts House. His father… "No, what do I know about Draco, not Lucius."
Draco Malfoy had become the Slytherin Seeker when his father had bought the whole team Nimbus 2001 broomsticks. He boasted a great deal about his skill on a broom, the purity of his family's ancestry, his family's wealth, his grades in potions, his family's money, his superiority over… well, over everyone, and his family's influence. He made muggle-born firsties cry.
"I'll let the nargles decide his fate," Luna decided
Luna picked up the old leather pouch and gently closed the oft-knotted cords. She shook it, hearing the rune tiles rattle against each other. Luna counted out each month that Draco Malfoy had been alive as she shook the runes. She opened the mouth of the pouch and let the rune tiles spill over the article. It was almost funny the way the pictures tried to dodge the falling tiles.
Her fingers didn't shake as she looked at the tiles. Some had fallen face down, their runes hidden from her sight. Others had fallen with the runes facing upwards and correctly oriented, while the rest had fallen with the runes facing the wrong ways – the wrong paths of life. Luna began to count out how many tiles were in each position. "Seven face down, that's seven nargles abstaining from the vote. Four upright and virtuous. And a great many that speak of crooked and mistaken paths."
Luna double-checked her counting, just to be certain. This was a very important matter, after all. "Four that speak for you, seven that say nothing, and three times seven that speak against you. I guess that's that."
She carefully put each N Argyle tile back into the pouch that was all she had left of her beloved grandmother who had been a very old seer, whom Luna remembered best for her large fluffy pet rabbit with the gleaming red eyes and sharp, sharp teeth. Edmund had even purred, almost like a cat.
"The nargles have spoke, cousin Draco. You have to die."
End Pottery Shard: Ask the NArgles.