"Wake up, Poppet, breakfast is ready."

Luna opened her eyes, feeling her body tense at the sound of her father's voice, electing not to respond to his call. After a moment, she heard the door close behind him and she relaxed, fractionally. Just another day in Magical Britain.

Internally weighing whether to even bother getting out of bed, eventually Luna stood up and wandered into the other room. After the destruction of her family home, she and her father needed somewhere to stay following Voldemort's defeat at the Battle of Hogwarts. At first, there had been plenty of offers, stacks of invitations from well-wishers willing to house one of the more prominent heroines of the second war.

That felt like a lifetime ago, though. The offers evaporated rather suddenly following RIta Skeeter's tell-all exposé of Garrick Ollivander's imprisonment with her at Malfoy Manor. Apparently, following their rescue, he'd learned of her father's attempt to hand over Harry to the Death Eaters, that the explosion that destroyed their home had occurred in the context of the head of the Lovegood family betraying the Man-Who-Conquered on his noble quest to save the country.

They couldn't even rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron after that. Her father was considered barely a rung above the surviving Death Eaters, a collaborator that nearly doomed the entire country to Voldemort's perpetual reign. The Prophet had delighted in ensuring that the story stayed in the news, making certain that no one could miss the fact that the Quibbler - their main competition, the outlet that had been on the side of the resistance during the war - was run by a traitor who had done his best to give their hero to the Dark Lord. It was just business; a ruthless, cutthroat tactic assuredly, but business nonetheless. Every subscriber bar four had cancelled, and not even Gringotts was willing to offer a loan to rebuild the Quibbler's printing press. The Lovegoods were ruined, both financially and socially.

So, bereft of options, vault nearly empty, her father had rented a tiny one-bedroom flat in the seediest section of Knockturn Alley. Luna walked out of the bedroom, stepping past the cot set up in the combined living room/kitchenette, sitting down at the small cracked and weathered table. The flat was tiny, so small that when the cot was not put away, there was barely room to push her chair back from the table.

"Here we are, important to have a nutritious start to the day!" her father spooned a single egg, over-easy, onto a plate with a misshapen piece of toast. She knew that the bread was stale; after all, it had been Luna who had cut off the section of mould growing on the loaf the day before. The hunger didn't help her mood these days, the gnawing feeling in her empty belly making her temper short and emotions frayed.

"What shall we do today? Perhaps we could apparate to the Welsh countryside, I overheard the most fascinating discussion at the White Wyvern last-"

"No. I don't want to go anywhere with you." She had to bite her tongue to keep from restarting the furious lecture she'd aimed at him ever since she'd learned of what he had tried to do to Ha- to her friends. Objectively, she knew that it was her anger that drove her father to drink at the tavern down the street, but Luna just couldn't forgive what he'd done. He knew what the stakes were, what his betrayal would have-

Pushing the egg back and forth, she tried to focus on the bleeding yolk rather than her still-burning rage. She sympathized with her breakfast, feeling her heart to be in a similar condition - deflated and bleeding out everything that defined her. Despite the emptiness in her stomach, she suddenly had no appetite, pushing her plate away and standing.

"I'm going out."

Luna stepped out of their tenement, spinning in place and apparating to Ottery St. Catchpole, dropping to the overgrown grass around the rubble of their former home. Even with how angry she was at her father, she still couldn't bring herself to cry in front of him. Everything was just so, so-

It wasn't supposed to be like this. When Voldemort had collapsed, dead at Harry's wand, things were supposed to get better! It was like she'd woken from a nightmare to find that reality was even worse than her dream. At least when she was imprisoned in Malfoy Manor enduring Bellatrix's frequent ministrations, she knew that she was on the right side, knew her determination and sacrifice was to help her friends.

Now, though? She glanced to the east, as though she could see through the thick woods to where the Burrow sat. So many losses, so much tragedy to end one man. One evil, horrifying, monster of a man - and her father had sided with that monster for a false promise of her safety.

She was hungry, and she was alone. It didn't feel right, going to the Weasleys, not when they were mourning Fred's death. Despite her membership in the DA, there weren't many others she could turn to. Neville and Harry had accepted early entry into the aurors, Hermione was back at Hogwarts. After everything, she was right back where she started, just a pariah, pushed off to the side,

Luna felt ashamed at her selfishness. After all, so many of her classmates and comrades didn't make it through the final battle without losing their lives or loved ones. She shouldn't be- shouldn't feel this bad. Just because her father had made a deal with the worst Dark Lord in British history to try and murder her best friend… She dissolved into tears once again.

"Miss Lovegood?"

Her head shot up at the voice, hastily wiping away tears to try and clean her face. "Yes- Percy? What are you doing here?"

He carefully took a seat in the grass several feet away from her, looking almost absurdly out of place in his clean and well-pressed robes among the blasted out wreckage of her childhood home. "Ginny was concerned for you, said you haven't been responding to her letters. Our older brother, William - I believe you're acquainted with him? - set up some monitoring wards here in case you came back."

"Oh."

"I'm sure you're wondering why I was the one to respond when the wards were tripped."

"No, not really-"

Percy interrupted her, staring out into the woods just like she had done. "War has a way of magnifying mistakes, doesn't it? I don't know if you were aware but I've been estranged from my family for the last several years. When the Ministry decided to tar Potter's reputation, I wholeheartedly joined in. Thought it would be good for my career."

He plucked at some of the grass, the individual blades so overgrown that they were as long as his forearm. "I told myself that I was doing it for my family. That's how I justified it - the Weasleys weren't well regarded, and I was sure that their association with Potter would only make it worse. I thought that if I were on the winning side, that eventually I'd have the gold and influence to save them. Would you believe I even mailed Ron and told him to stop being friends with Potter?" Percy laughed sardonically. "What a fool I was. What a cowardly fool. If my family had listened to me, Potter wouldn't have won, and the Dark Lord would still rule over Britain."

Luna didn't respond, and Percy let the quiet linger over the two of them for several minutes before he continued. "Ronald told me what happened here, during the war, I mean. No one blames you, and we don't blame your father, either."

"Maybe you should."

"And maybe my family should have turned their backs on me, as I did to them, when I finally came crawling back. But they didn't."

A new round of sobs wracked her tiny frame, and Percy grasped her arm and gently lifted her to her feet. She felt the squeezing sensation of an apparition, and the next thing she knew she was at the Burrow, her tears mingling with Ginny's, the two young women crying together for what was lost.

"You don't have to apologize for him. I don't blame your dad, and I know Harry and Hermione don't, either."

"But-"

Ginny put a hand over her own. "If Ron says it's forgiven, you know it is. All the subtlety of a charging nundu, this one's got."

"Oi! I resent that!"

"Resent it all you want! Reality's harsh, big brother."

The Burrow was far from the cheerful abode she'd visited the year prior, feeling muted and dark, mired beneath a cloud of grief. Mrs Weasley had taken one solitary look at Luna and bustled off to the kitchen, preparing a massive lunch far beyond her ability to eat. After setting the table though, the Weasley matriarch had retreated upstairs, her face a mask of sadness and loss.

Mr Weasley and Percy had left immediately after the meal, citing the huge workload of reversing Thicknesse and Umbridge's policies at the Ministry. With George locking himself away in his and Fred's former room, that left only Ginny and Ron to speak with Luna.

"I just- I can't believe that he'd do something like that. Not when the stakes were so high; when he knew the danger you were in."

Ron grimaced, running a hand over his face, but it was Ginny that responded. "It was far from noble but it was a war. That kind of pressure can cause even the best of people to make poor choices."

"That's easy for you to say," Luna bitterly replied.

"Ron, tell her."

Cheeks reddening, he scowled at his younger sister. "What?"

"Tell her, Ron, she needs to understand." He remained silent, and Ginny lightly smacked him on the shoulder. "Is your pride really more important than your friend? Tell her!"

Letting out a heavy sigh, his gaze fell to the well-worn table-top. "While we were on our, uh, mission, things weren't going that well. We were low on food, had almost no supplies, and were completely alone. It felt like it was just the three of us against the world. Dumbledore had left us nothing but a bunch of vague clues, and it felt like we were running around chasing shadows while the rest of you were suffering."

Ginny put a comforting hand on his arm. "We knew you were working to beat him. All of us believed in you."

Luna nodded her agreement; it was true, there had never been any doubt at Hogwarts that whatever Harry was doing was important. Ron gave them both an appreciative look and went on with his story. "I was scared, worried about my family. Hermione had sent her parents overseas, and Harry - well… there's no way to not say this cruelly, but Harry doesn't have any family to worry over." Luna gasped, and Ginny shook her head with a wry grin at her brother's bluntness. "We quarrelled. I accused him of leading us on a pointless quest, of being a bad leader. I tried to get Hermione to follow, and then- then I walked out on them."

She tried not to react, but couldn't stop her jaw from dropping. "But, at the Malfoy's - you were with them-"

"I came back, but they were on their own for several months. I can't tell you how much regret I felt, abandoning them like that, but- but I did it anyway. Do you understand now? How one bad decision, made in the heat of the moment, can spiral out of control that way?"

Luna looked at him in a new light, realizing how hard it must have been to admit that for the sole purpose to make her feel better. "And they forgave you? Welcomed you back?"

"They did, because they love him. Hermione told me, and I think Harry would agree, that it was harder for Ron to forgive himself than it was for them to forgive him," Ginny said, wrapping Luna in a one-armed hug briefly before standing up and disappearing into the kitchen.

She mulled over that response, thinking about her father, about the way he couldn't meet her eyes once news of his betrayal came out. Did he regret it? Would he do it again, if the situation repeated itself?

"I'm sorry for your loss," she whispered. "I- I wanted to come to Fred's service, but…" It seemed like every time she went in public, there was a reporter waiting to ask her reaction to her father's deal with the devil.

"It's okay," Ron comforted with a sad smile. "We know. He always liked you, you know? Him and George, they always thought pranks should create joy, not misery. Couldn't stand seeing the way your housemates treated you."

"That was a long time ago," she muttered. "It doesn't matter now."

Giving her a thoughtful look, Ron watched Ginny emerge from the kitchen, hauling a basket laden with enough food to feed a dozen people. "You can forgive them for their cruelty to you, why not your father for his love for you?"

He didn't return until well after midnight, and when he did, there were bruises on his face.

"Oh Daddy, what happened?"

"Nothing to worry about, Moonbeam, just a few disagreeable lads at the Wyvern," his voice slurred, the smell of drink nigh-overpowering. "Did you have a good day?"

"Here, you take the bed tonight."

"Nonsense, the cot is more than fine-"

"Daddy," her voice brooked no argument, and he was far from cogent enough to come up with any logical rebuttal. "Sleep, we'll talk in the morning."

"It is morning, Poppet!"

"Just rest. I'll get you a potion tomorrow."

"Can't afford it," he mumbled, collapsing heavily onto the bed.

"We can't afford you drinking at the White Wyvern, either. Just sleep."

She covered him in the blanket, closing the door behind her. Settling onto the cot, Luna curled up in a ball, listening to her father's quiet sobs carry over from the bedroom.

When morning came, she was still awake. Quietly, she dressed, setting out some of the food that the Weasleys had given for her father under preservation charms. It was time for a new start, time to move past what had happened.

First, she stopped at Gringotts, waiting in the thankfully short line for the next available teller. Upon receiving her vault key, though, the goblin raised one arched brow.

"You are aware that vault fees are charged on September first, are you not?"

"Okay…"

"And if an account's balance is unable to cover the fees, then penalties will be enforced. Gringotts doesn't tolerate freeloaders."

"I understand."

With a derisive nod, the teller motioned for another goblin to escort her to the carts. She understood the encounter in the lobby when she reached her vault. There wasn't even a single Galleon, just a handful of Sickles and a few dozen Knuts. It would be okay, she told herself, she'd turn it around. Gathering the coins, Luna returned to the cart and quickly exited the bank.

People stopped and whispered as she walked through Diagon, but Luna held her head high and Flooed from the Leaky Cauldron to the MacDougal's hippogriff ranch. She remembered Morag speaking of it in the Ravenclaw common room. The Floo spat her out into a tidy, rustic lobby with large windows. Through the glass, Luna could clearly make out at least a dozen hippogriffs, flexing their wings and devouring their morning feed.

"Can I help you?" A man, in plain work robes, sleeves rolled up stepped forward to greet her. "Looking for potions ingredients?"

"Er, no sir. I was hoping to apply for work."

"I'm Randolph MacDougal, the owner of this ranch. You got any experience working with creatures? Hippogriffs can get pretty physical."

"I got an Outstanding on my Care of Magical Creatures OWL. Our instructor, Rubeus Hagrid, gave us a lesson on hippogriffs. They're rather marvellous animals," she answered proudly, eyes continually drawn to the majestic creatures outside.

"Hagrid's got a good eye for talent. Nobody loves creatures like that man," MacDougal said, nodding approvingly. "Being a ranch hand don't pay much. Fifteen Sickles a week, starting. You'll get more during breeding season, they get a bit wild while in heat."

"That sounds great!"

"What's your name?"

"Luna Lovegood, sir."

"Lovegood…" he weighed the name, eyebrows crinkling in concentration. "Your dad owns the Quibbler?" She nodded, and he let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, I can't- it's just not a good time to be associated with your family. Not while the Prophet's on their crusade."

"But- no one has to know!"

"Listen, lass, I feel for you, I really do. I heard you stood with Morag and the others at Hogwarts. But your father, he as good as allied with You-Know-Who. I can't bring that kind of notoriety to my business; I've got my own family to look out for."

"Please-"

"I'm sorry. Maybe in a few months, once things cool off."

Luna bit her lip, giving a shaky nod of acceptance, and turned back to the fireplace.

One quick stop at the apothecary, she bought a vial of Hangover Cure and made her way home to Knockturn Alley. Their tenement building was just in sight when someone grabbed onto her arm, roughly shoving her against the shop she was walking past.

"Yea, that's her," a man's voice said. "You're Lovegood's daughter, ain't ya?"

"Who are you?"

"I own the White Wyvern. I told yer old man last night, I don't run tabs for traitors. He didn't 'ave the coin to pay his bill, I warned him I'd get my money!"

"I- we'll pay you what we owe, just give us some time-"

"You think your word's good 'round here? Face it, you're no better than the rest o' them."

The man holding her patted her down, and Luna stiffened as his hand reached into her robes, withdrawing the coin purse with the last of their savings. "This is all she's got."

The Wyvern's owner opened the pouch, parsing through the silver and bronze coins with a few fingers. "I'll be taking this for my trouble. Tell your old man 'e's no longer welcome at my establishment."

"No, don't!"

A wand pressed against her neck, courtesy of the man who'd grabbed her. "Don't make trouble now, miss. This is Knockturn, nobody'd blink twice when they step over your body." She went still, and the two men walked away, keeping one eye on her in case she made a move to pursue them.

Dragging her feet, Luna's pace was much slower the rest of the way to their flat. Seeing their rotund landlord, his robes dirty and sweat-stained waiting outside their door, she knew her day was about to get worse.

"Your rent's late."

"We'll pay, I promise!"

"Why should I believe you? If you could pay, you wouldn't be late."

"I'm looking for work, as soon as I get a job I'll ask for an advance and give it to you. We- we have nowhere else to go, please!"

The disgusting man looked her up and down. "Looking for work, eh? I know the owner of Wandering Wizards, she'd surely find something for ya t'do."

The Wandering Wizard was a notorious brothel in Knockturn Alley. "I've got several leads, just give us more time."

"Two days, Lovegood. You've got two days, or you're through, even if I have to throw you out myself," he grunted, making sure to maximize the contact between them as he brushed past her.

Luna stepped inside, making sure to cast the strongest locking charm she could on the door before leaning her back against the thin frame, slowly sliding to the floor and burying her head in her hands. Everything was going wrong; she didn't know what to do.