The only person who got any sleep that night was the baby who had once been the Dark Lord. After the uproar of the Death Eaters' hurried exit, he fell into a deep sleep, as if exhausted by the effort of coming into being. Nothing could rouse him for several hours, not even the indignity of being poked and prodded by Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall or the sooty chaos of being Flooed from Scotland to Devon. The child slept on, stirring occasionally to nurse or grasp a strand of Bellatrix's hair without fully waking.

Professor Dumbledore declared with some bewilderment that he was a perfectly healthy child. There were no signs that he had any memories of his former life as the Dark Lord, or indeed any cognitive or magical abilities beyond that of an average infant in the wizarding world. Because it was an act of pure evil to create a horcrux, there was some concern that his soul might still be damaged, marred at the seams by the evil that had torn it asunder. The ritual did more than reunite the fragments of his soul, however; it seemed to have healed them, somehow.

"But he's completely normal, as if you plucked a child at random off of the street. There's absolutely no sign of the evil things he's done. It's as if the last seventy years of his life never happened," McGonagall marveled.

"He's even having dreams. Good dreams, innocent dreams," Professor Dumbledore murmured, cupping the child's head in his hands.

Once he was pronounced healthy, they were all clamoring to know how Luna did it. She told them she wasn't sure how or why it worked, but she supposed there couldn't be any harm in showing them where the unlikely chain of events had been set in motion. Luna had long since abandoned her fear of the deep descent into the darkness of the crypt, and did not bother summoning a light as she led them to the tomb of Eva de Braose.

The magical power of that place hung palpably in the air, like a cloud of heady fragrance. Even a Squib like Mrs. Figg and the terminally unobservant like her niece Caroline could sense it. A small crowd huddled around the hallowed tomb, speaking in hushed whispers above the bones of Eva de Broase, which continued to emit magic centuries after the founder cast her last spell. The crypt of a nunnery struck Luna as a peculiarly fitting venue for such a discussion, as the mystery of what had happened seemed akin to the mystical and miraculous. Theories were batted about, rather uselessly in Luna's opinion. She knew they were more likely to topple another Dark Lord than divine the constellation of causes and effects that led to the baby snoozing in Bellatrix's arms.

Might Eva de Braose be a distant ancestor of the Dark Lord, they wondered, granting her unique powers over him and his horcruxes? Or perhaps Eva had been so powerful in life that her bones radiated magic that protected the Circle from evil, in the same way that Boudicea's grave protected students on their journey to Hogwarts, as they had hypothesized at one of the first meetings of the Circle all those years ago. The more cynical amongst them suspected it was all a trick, some elaborate ruse with a secret escape and a stolen baby. Perhaps the Dark Lord was in hiding again, lurking in the shadows until he built up the strength to return again.

Lune was hardly paying attention. It was over now; she could feel it deep in the marrow of her bones. Even Albus Dumbledore said so, bewildered and bereft though he seemed, like a general whose war had evaporated before his very eyes. What did it matter precisely what had happened or why or how? It was such a bizarre string of unlikely events: an evil dark lord creating seven horcruxes, his spurned lover recently pregnant with his child, milk still swelling in her breasts. One did not have to be a Seer to know that such a peculiar confluence of events was unlikely to occur ever again, not even in a thousand years when Luna's own bones were well on their way to becoming dust beside Eva's.

Eventually Luna grew restless and left the chapel without a word. The warmth of the summer night air and the fragrant sweetness of a cup of herbal tea appealed to her more than the dank darkness and circling conversation in the crypt. She finally had the time and space to properly mull over the ritual and its revelations, to begin fitting together pieces in a puzzle which she had been fumbling and turning over in her mind for years. When the entirety of it came sharply into focus, Luna saw her life for what it truly was for the first time. As she wept with despair and relief, Luna let her bare toes wriggle in the evening-cooled grass and craned her neck to gaze at the millions of stars, each one the center of a world she could hardly comprehend. A storm of nausea and anxiety roiled in her stomach, but it was freeing to know that she was not the center of the universe.

She bided her time until the others were done dwelling in the past and ready to discuss what really mattered: what they ought to do next about the Death Eaters, the baby, and the Circle. They eventually emerged, blinking as their eyes adjusted to the starlight, and Luna was waiting for them. The others were hoping to go to the library to research some of their more outlandish theories about the ritual. It took much cajoling from Luna to convince them to return to the chapter house for midnight snacks and a proper chat.

Their indifference was a knife slipping between Luna's ribs. How could they act surprised when she broached the subject? How could they be so passive, after they had just witnessed the incredible capacity of ordinary people to change the course of history? How could they not care? But no, most of them thought things should stay as they were: the baby should stay at the Circle and the Death Eaters should be allowed to go about their lives, provided they stayed on good behavior. In their view, they were all lucky to be alive, and they didn't see any reason why they should continue poking a beast that had been laid to rest with surprisingly, blessedly little trouble.

"But I didn't actually mean what I said to the Death Eaters! I was just bluffing! Of course they should be hunted down and punished," Luna cried.

"And who would be 'hunting them down,' as you say? You, cuz?" Tonks asked. An indulgent grin lifted the corner of her mouth, but her eyes looked sad.

"No. I mean, it's not my job to figure that out! I don't know, the Aurors, I guess. I know we don't like the Ministry but isn't this what they're there for?"

"If you expect the Aurors to get off their arses and make the Death Eaters face any real consequences, you'll be sorely disappointing, I'm afraid. Scrimgeour loves to talk the talk, but he plays politics just like the rest of them." Now even her smile was sad.

"Excuse me just a moment. I know for a fact that the Auror Office works very hard. If they caught wind of this, they'd be required by law to conduct a thorough investigation and write a report documenting their findings," Madam Bones said with an offended sniff. She had been drifting from the Circle for some months now. She felt their constant criticism of the Ministry was unproductive, and they teased her for her seemingly bottomless well of faith in the Ministry's ability to uphold truth and justice.

"A report? An investigation? Well that's just bullshit," Ginny thundered in that fierce way she had, and Luna shot her friend a grateful smile.

"Now, girls," Professor McGonagall interceded with her hands raised in a peacemaking gesture, "I think we can all agree that in an ideal world, yes, the Death Eaters would be held accountable for their actions in some way. But we have to accept the reality that most of them are wealthy and well-connected. Many of them work at the highest levels of the Ministry itself. I'm afraid it would be a very laborious exercise in futility."

"In an ideal world? What's that supposed to mean? The world doesn't have to be this way. We can make it different, if we want."

"Think about what that would entail, child. If we wanted to involve the Ministry, we would have to tell them about what precisely happened, ritual and all. Do you want to take that risk, knowing what we know about the Ministry's operations?" Professor Dumbledore asked. He had an annoying habit of pretending to take Luna seriously by asking her a thoughtful question, but there was clearly only one correct answer and it was designed to prove her wrong. She was acutely aware that she was a small and stupid teenaged girl attempting to argue with the most esteemed wizard in the world.

"Okay fine, the Ministry was a stupid idea. But we must be able to do something. You can't really be telling me that our only option is writing a Ministry report that will sit on someone's desk gathering dust for fifty years and leaving the Death Eaters to their own devices."

"Are you suggesting vigilantism? Most of you have been unfortunately misguided for some time now, but I draw the line at outright treason. I simply won't stand for it," Madam Bones said, though she did stand, pushing her chair out with a clatter.

"Now, Amelia. They're young. I don't think they understand what they're saying," Aberforth said.

"My brother is right. Luna, do you remember how quickly the Dark Lord's followers turned on him as soon as he was powerless and vulnerable?"

"Pretty much right away," she admitted with a huff. Her frustration had flared hot, but now it was simmering to an impotent smolder.

"Precisely. If they would betray their own leader without a second thought, do you really think they'd cooperate with me or the Ministry? No. The only effective leverage we have over them is the promise of immunity. If we fail to uphold our end of the bargain, they would have no qualms about exposing the child for who he truly is. Or rather, who he once was."

"Do you really think they would hurt a baby?" Lavender asked.

"They wouldn't have to. Once word got out, everyone the Dark Lord ever hurt would be queuing up to have a go at him," said Mrs. Brown. Her posture was stiffer than usual and a deep crease cleaved her forehead in two. She had seated herself as far away from Bellatrix as possible and refused to coo over the child with some of the others. Luna wouldn't be surprised if her mentor was restraining herself from avenging her husband, and she couldn't blame her.

"And I wouldn't put it past the Ministry to try to find a way to put the boy on trial and imprison him, or even subject him to the Dementor's Kiss. It would be a feather in Cornelius Fudge's cap," Aberforth added.

"And he's not a feather, he is a child. Protecting him should be our first priority," Albus said with a significant glance at Luna and Ginny.

"Yes, great. Let's just let the Death Eaters walk free because we're even bigger cowards than they are. Got it, ace plan," Ginny grumbled, kicking the leg of the ancient table.

Luna agreed with Ginny, but she knew continuing to argue would be pointless, so instead she asked, "But what about the baby? Where should he go?"

"Why does he have to go anywhere? He seems quite content to me," said Albus, with an indulgent smile and chuck under the infant's chin.

"Well he can't stay here! I mean, he's a baby."

"No one can take him from me. I won't allow it!" Bellatrix hissed, clutching the baby so tightly that he started squirming and fussing.

"He's not being taken anywhere, Bellatrix. Where else would he go? He does not have any surviving family. He was raised in an orphanage, did you know that, Luna? It's safe to say that he did not thrive there," Professor Dumbledore said.

"Could he be brought up at Hogwarts?" Aberforth suggested, and Luna shot him a grateful look. Finally someone else was seeing sense.

"Hogwarts is a school for older children. We are not equipped to care for a child full-time during the first eleven years of his life," Professor McGonagall cut in.

"Are you all mental? We're a school, too! We're not equipped to care for a baby full-time, either!"

"Perhaps St. Mungo's, then? I'm sure the Ministry would have no objections to institutionalizing him," Madam Bones said. Eudora chuckled, and Luna marveled at the unlikeliest of alliances forged on this strangest of nights.

"Come now. I don't believe that there is anything wrong with this child, nor that he needs to be institutionalized. And I don't think you really believe that either, Amelia," Professor Dumbledore said with a disappointed arch of his eyebrows. Madam Bones barely had the good grace to look chastened, and he spoke again before she could protest further.

"No, the Circle is the best place for him. It's a safer, more nurturing environment than any else I could secure for him. In fact, this is a better place to raise a child than the home where I left Harry Potter all those years ago." His sardonic smile could not quite conceal the note of true regret in his voice.

"I should say so!" Mrs. Weasley harrumphed, but Luna knew it was more on Harry's behalf than the Circle's or the baby's.

"Is...is that it? Really? None of you have anything to say?" Luna whirled around to look at each of her compatriots in turn. Mrs. Brown shrugged and a few others gave her apologetic looks. They all looked too exhausted to argue. Andrea Goldstein was curled up with her head in Cho Chang's lap. Luna knew she was being too harsh on them. She knew that she didn't particularly care about the fate of the baby. She knew that what she was really doing was unleashing fourteen years of resentment. But she did not care.

"Give it up, Luna. It's pointless," Ginny said.

Resignation washed over her, and Luna conceded with a silent nod. So this is what being powerless feels like, she mused. She could fake a prophecy right now, cast a silver tongue charm on herself, adopt her most cartoonish impression of her mother's airy Seer voice, and none of it would matter.

"Well, then!" Professor Dumbledore said as he clapped his hands with cheerful finality, "I ought to be going, I'm sure I'm needed at the Ministry and Hogwarts."

"Aberforth and Minerva will keep me apprised of the situation, I'm sure. Goodbye then, little fellow." He reached down to pat the downy fine hair on the top of the baby's head.

"Wait. What should we call him?" Ginny asked.

"He had a name before, you know. He was called Tom," Dumbledore said.

"Tom," Luna repeated.

"Farwell, Tom."

By the time Professor Dumbledore left, dawn sunlight was peeking through the grime-crusted windows of the chapter house, casting them all in a harsh light that made the bags and dark circles under their eyes even more prominent. Birds serenaded them with a cacophony of song to welcome the new day. Several of the younger girls who had fallen into a half-conscious daze during the long argument stirred and rubbed creases from the flesh of their faces and arms.

"Well, I suppose there's no point trying to get any sleep now. Tea all around?" Luna asked. There was silence. Many of the others were still blinking blearily. Noura's head made an audible thump as it slouched back onto the table.

"No? Fine. Perfect. If I can't even bloody convince you not to take in the Dark Lord in baby form, why should you care what I have to say about putting the kettle on?"

"Oh, don't be a sourpuss just because you can't always get your own way," Ginny said, yawning and making a half-hearted attempt to reach across the table and swat Luna on the arm.

"But I'm used to getting my own way! Fourteen years of being the raven queen will do that to you, believe it or not. It's just as well. I'd better get used to this now," Luna said with a shrug.

"Mmm," Lavender mumbled, stifling a yawn. Another wave of anger and bitterness surged within Luna, making her vision swim. Why weren't they listening? Why didn't they care? How could her mother do this to her?

"I said I guess I'd better get used to no one listening to me now. Now that I know I'm not really the raven queen," she repeated. That got the reaction she was craving, and Luna relished the way every head in the room whirled around to face her, every half-asleep pair of eyes snapped open to peer at her, and every mouth formed an identical "o" of shock and confusion.

"W-what?" Cressida stammered.

"I've been thinking about it all night. If you think about the raven queen prophecy, it's all about the milk, isn't it? Healing all those broken people with milk, and it's the woman with the dark hair who brings the milk. She's the raven queen. And who brought the milk? Not me. Bellatrix."

"No! I had that prophecy when I was pregnant with you! It's about you."

"'The blood of the moon and the womb.' That's what the prophecy says. She did that. She used the blood of the womb. 'And she will be of your blood.' Bellatrix is your sister. It was never about me."

"No, that can't be true. The ritual was your idea, you were the one who made all those things happen, even if it wasn't your blood and milk," Cressida's voice was growing shriller with each word, working up to a crescendo that was almost a shriek.

"We never found the raven queen prophecy when we were in the Department of Mysteries, did we? We looked at every single prophecy with my name on it, and it wasn't there. But you didn't want to take any of the prophecies about your family, did you? I'd bet you anything it was there all along, but we never found it because it was labeled with Bellatrix's name."

"You're being ridiculous. You've never liked being treated differently…"

"Stop," Luna interrupted, "Not another word."

'...and now you've latched onto this...this crackpot theory!"

"I know what you did!" Luna screamed.

"How dare you speak to me like that!" Cressida shouted.

"Daddy told me! He said I wasn't even born with dark hair, I was a blonde baby just like him. And one day I suddenly had black hair, like it had happened magically overnight! This skunk hair you always mock me about? It's your fault! You dyed it or charmed it or did something to it, just because you thought I was supposed to have raven hair because I was the raven queen! How could you? How could you do this to me?" Luna was screaming herself hoarse.

Cressida fell silent.

"And I've wasted my entire life forcing myself to be this person, playing this part, for nothing!"

"Luna…" Cressida sounded very small and very timid, like a child.

"No, you don't get to talk. I get to talk."

"You have to understand. I thought…"

"I don't care what you thought. You're bullshit, it's all bullshit. Trying to lead the Circle has felt like a constant uphill battle all these years, like I could never do anything right. And it turns out there's a reason for that. It's because I'm not meant to lead it! All my ideas have been crap and nothing has worked, and that's fine now, I guess. You can just follow her, do whatever she says, and everything will come up roses."

"Luna…" Ginny laid a hand on her shoulder. She looked frightened, as if Luna was a wild animal who might lash out and attack her. The fear on her friend's face brought Luna back to reality. She had forgotten everyone else was there. The others were watching the fight between mother and daughter in mesmerized silence. Luna took a shaky breath.

"Luna, this doesn't have to change anything. You're still you! You're still great. We all love you!" Lavender said, with a feigned smile plastered on her pale, anxious face.

"Of course it changes everything, Lav. And you know what? That's fine. You've all said for years that I'm a basketcase, and maybe you're right. At least you don't have to follow a basketcase anymore. You can do whatever you want now. You're well rid of me."

Her chair clattered to the floor as she stood up, which woke the baby and set him crying. The sound made tears well in Luna's eyes. She wanted to weep for the little blonde baby she had been and the childhood she had lost. But she could feel their eyes upon her as she gazed at the baby with a fresh start she could only dream of. She could not allow herself to cry, so she ran.

Luna let the deafening roar of the bathtub drown out her sobs. She was slouched against the edge fully clothed, her head shoved at an uncomfortable angle under the faucet. Her fingers scrabbled at her scalp, digging until she could feel the dull throb of her pulse oozing in the blood under her fingertips. Then she remembered her wand. The sharp tip was a blunt instrument in her trembling hands.

"Finite incantatem! Offere! Reverte!" She tried every counter spell she could think of, but the raven queen wig her mother had forced her to wear for her entire life stayed firmly planted on her head.

"Finite incantatem!" she tried again, this time throwing her wand to the floor and making a deep cut in her upper arm with her blood knife.

"Finite incantatem! Finite incantatem! Finite…" Luna dissolved into incoherent blubbering until a pair of pale, freckled hands pried the knife from her grasp.

"Shh, there now," Ginny murmured.

"I want it off, I want it gone! But it won't come off," Luna wept, running her hands through her hair.

"I don't think counter spells are going to work."

"Then cut it all off, I don't care!" Luna reached for her knife again and began hacking at a patch of the black hair that her mother had cursed her with.

Ginny snorted and then realized what she had done and covered her mouth with her hand.

"What?" Luna demanded.

"Well you don't need to be so dramatic, threatening to go bald! You could just use a Deenchantment Draught."

"What's that?

"Wait, you seriously don't know?"

"Er, no. I mean, I can make an educated guess from the name, but..."

"Ha! Hold on, I just need to relish knowing something you don't," Ginny crowed. Luna bumped her shoulder against her friend's, forgetting for a moment that she was sopping wet and bleeding from the arm and no longer the person she had been.

"Do you remember that summer Fred and George charmed my nose and ears to be invisible?"

"I'd forgotten about that! You looked so weird," Luna giggled, pulled further back into normalcy by the memory of a young, furiously freckled, noseless and earless Ginny kicking at her older brothers' shins.

"It turned out Mum had some old almanac for housewives, and there was a recipe for a Deenchantment Draught. It's this potion that can remove any charms or spells that have been put on a person. Or an object if you don't mind it getting wet, I suppose. I think they were originally used to undo the effects of kids' underage magic, if they wreaked havoc on the house or charmed their own hair off or put a dumb little curse on their siblings or whatever. Anyway, we might have to brew it a little stronger and maybe add a little blood, but I bet it'd work."

The potion did not take very long to make at all, for there were no exotic ingredients, no pretensions about phases of the moon or stirring widdershins. It was one of those humble, old-fashioned recipes for busy mothers, written in an informal and chatty tone. Luna knew her mother would hate to admit it, but this was as much the magic of the Circle as the most ancient and learned spells scrawled on Cornworthy's walls: ingredients measured by the palmful, simple, improvised magic created to solve a simple, practical problem, the magic of the poor and the overworked. When the time came to add a few drops of blood, Ginny swatted Luna's hand away and bled herself.

"There, all done," Ginny said once they were back in the bathroom with a small cauldron teetering on the chipped tile floor.

Luna dipped her head over the ancient claw-footed bathtub as Ginny gently poured the potion over her head and rubbed it into the roots and ends of her sopping, streaked black and white hair. The steam made Luna's skin feel hot and tender.

"Does it hurt?"

"It stings a bit," Luna admitted.

"I'm sorry. But look, it's working!"

Luna opened her eyes and saw swirls of jet black water circling the drain, "Thanks, Gin."

"Nothing to thank me for. Isn't it funny to think that you and your dad spent years digging around in a library with thousands of books, and here we are using some home remedy from a self-help book for housewives," Ginny chuckled.

"Yeah," Luna said. She thought of her father digging through towers of books to help find an answer to one of her bizarre questions. Her father, who loved her so unconditionally. Her father, who would have never tried to force her to be anything but precisely who she was.

"It's so fucked up. Who the hell does that to their kid?" Her voice was still scorched with anger, but it also sounded nasally and damp from all the crying.

"I know. You wouldn't believe how angry everyone is. They were all fighting when I left," Ginny said as she rubbed Luna's back, all traces of levity gone from her voice.

"Let them fight. At least I don't have to care anymore. I can wash my hands of all of it, and you're finally free of me."

"We don't want to be free of you, Lu. We want to follow you. I want to follow you."

"But you're not supposed to follow me! The prophecy wasn't even about me."

"You're the one who always says prophecies aren't good or bad or right or wrong. They just are. Besides, where in the prophecy did it say the raven queen would be any good? Bellatrix is completely bonkers."

"It doesn't work like that, Gin. You know the prophecy says that the raven queen will restore the Circle's power. 'She will rise and make them see the way.' That's her, not me."

"Okay, but listen. Maybe she's already fulfilled the prophecy. She's done the milk thing, the Dark Lord is gone. That's it, prophecy fulfilled. No more Dark Lord, no more Bellatrix, no more prophecy. We can do whatever we want!"

"The prophecy isn't about defeating the Dark Lord, though. It's about restoring the Circle to power. She's the one who's meant to do that, not me."

"You sound like your mum! This whole thing just goes to show that the prophecy is bullshit! We can be free of it now. We're not chained to what the prophecy says or what those damned nuns did hundreds of years ago or whatever your mum or McGonagall or Bones think we should do. We could start letting in boys for real, not just Dex and Jeremy. We could even take in more Squibs. We could invite centaurs, and dig a lake for mermaids!"

"No one will care anymore. Not when word gets out that I'm a fraud. The only reason anyone took me seriously was because of the prophecy, anyway."

"We can show them. We could make them see. They wouldn't betray you just because of the prophecy. I know they wouldn't."

"What if I don't want that?" Luna whispered.

"What?"

"I'm tired, Ginny. I'm so tired. What if I just want to read my books and make the Hallows for my dad and help Gwenog with the protests sometimes? Why should I have to sacrifice my entire life for the Circle even though I'm not even the raven queen? How is that fair?"

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yes. I don't want to go back. I know you're going to say that I'll change my mind, but I won't."

"Okay," Ginny said. Her voice was high and clipped, like she was restraining herself from saying more.

"Are you angry? Don't be angry."

"I'm not angry. I just...I didn't know you felt that way. I want you to do whatever you want to do, of course."

Ginny washed Luna's hair in silence for a while. When she cleared her throat and spoke again, she sounded more like her usual self.

"Nearly done, I think. What do you think? Accio mirror!" Ginny summoned the handheld mirror with seashells on the handle from Luna's dresser in the next room. Luna gazed at herself and saw a stranger. The long damp locks of white-blonde hair gave her face a new shape and a brighter, less sallow tone. It even made her eyes seem more gray than blue.

"Cor, is that what I'm meant to look like? I look weird. I look like my dad!"

"So, er, are you planning to stay here?" Ginny asked as she handed Luna a towel to dry her new head of hair.

"Yeah, I guess so. You can tell my mother and McGonagall that Mrs. Brown and Aunt Andie can look in on me once in a while, to make sure I'm not dead or whatever."

"No. I mean, okay, but that's not why I was asking. Would you want...I mean, could I stay with you?"

"You're not going back?"

"Maybe I will eventually, to visit. But you said you wanted to keep working on crafting the Hallows. No offense, but I don't think you'd have any luck making the Elder Wand on your own."

"I'd be completely useless," Luna agreed.

"Besides…" Ginny took a deep breath and looked away, steeling herself for her next words, "I go where you go."

Luna smiled and put her hand over Ginny's.

AN: Sorry this update took me a while! I found this chapter surprisingly difficult to write even though it's sort of an in-between, tying things up chapter. I've been planning the twist with the hair since the beginning. If you're curious, you can go back to chapter 2 and read the scene where Cressida has the idea to charm Luna's hair darker.

I'm going to try to stay on track updating every two weeks, but can't promise anything because I have a busy couple of weeks ahead of me and I burned through my buffer chapters last month when some whacky stuff happened in my real life. But we're quite close to the end now! I would really appreciate any encouragement as I try to wrap this beast of a fic up. Thanks so much for reading!