When she was born—no reborn—it was under the light of a bright, full pale moon. Her newest mother, called Pandora, was to most of her newfound magical world, a half-blood. Most thought her half-witch, half-muggle. But that was not the truth. She was indeed, a half-blood, and half-witch, but the other half was of far greater origin, and of a race lost to history, time, and the world. Her newest father Xenophilius, was thought strange by his peers, and he was. But he was only strange to those who had no ability to define his fey heritage. His wife, Pandora, however, was very much capable, and together they created a daughter whom they named Luna, after the moon under which she was born, her pale, silvery-blonde locks, and silver-grey eyes, a reflection of the power which both bore into one child. She would gain many new names in time, but she was truly a child of her mother's cousin Tilion— the Moon.
Luna was a strange child, even by the accounts of wizards and witches of the magical world. She could hear and see what most others could not, and she remembered what not even her parents could tell. She had been born before, and though it took the initial years of normal early childhood to reconcile her newfound second life, even she was not unaware of the oddities her mother and father displayed by simply existing that others of their so called kind did.
Her mother had slightly pointed ears, and when Pandora spoke, it sounded as if music sang forth from her tongue. Her father could see what other wizards and witches could not, and spoke of the trees and surrounding nature with nothing but reverence.
Luna herself could remember a time before she was born, and while she had finally accepted this new life of hers, she had not completely come to terms with her new existence quite yet. She decided she would follow in the footsteps of her newest, and most ardent, of parents however, and she was indeed a strange child.
At eight years old, at least in body, Luna had accepted her new name and new life, such as it was, with all its strangeness and all its magic. She had slowly, over the years from infanthood accepted magic for what it was, and even her mother and father for what they were. Their strange heritage was a secret of the family, guarded so closely that no one else should ever know of their extraordinary inheritance, and Luna took this secret as she did her own memories of a past life, and guarded them behind formidable walls within her mind.
The secrecy, strangeness, and knowledge from her past life, however, did not leave Luna untouched. She knew she was to be a certain way for a time, and she embraced it, as it led to less questions, and more answers as she grew in knowledge of both the world and of magic.
Her mother understood, a bit better than her father, of her memories of a previous life, as Luna had decided to confide in Pandora when the nightmares and memories became oppressive. Both mother and young child guarded this secret with care, and created a bond beyond the confines of a simple mother and daughter ought to create. Pandora took the years of her young child an taught her everything Luna could desire to know. Languages that were not spoken by mortal-kind on this earth, secrets which none knew, and how to listen to the Song of the Earth. Luna could sit under a tree and hear its history singing her into sleep, the song of the stars above, and the grass below, as if it were another living being speaking to her.
Xenophilius was aware enough to understand his wife and daughter shared a connection beyond what was normal of mother and daughter, but he did not begrudge either of their bond. Instead, he forged his own bond with his daughter, and Luna learnt to hear and listen to the creatures around her, even if none but she and her father could see them. She saw the nargles, the fairies, and the strangely shaped creatures which seemed to be made of mostly light and shadow. She learned how they gathered around those of heavy minds, troubled souls, and those who had strings of Fate wrapped tightly around them.
In early years Ginevra Weasley, called Ginny, was a good and decent friend. She was of an age, at least in body, to Luna, and Luna thought she might teach Ginevra at least a little of what she knew. Luna knew Ginevra Weasley's destiny, knew that the vibrant fire-haired and spirited girl could use some calming influence and wisdom to guide her path, and sought to be so. Luna saw purpose and sought to be so to her age-mate.
She wanted to curb the insanity of fantasy Ginevra had for the fabled Boy-Who-Lived, and although Luna often thought she was unsuccessful, she did achieve a small bit of her goal. While little Ginny Weasley was shy in the face of her childhood's fantasy brought to life, she did eventually manage to distinguish fabled hero against the true living boy, and loved him all the more for it. Luna was content enough to know that her young friend grew and would become the woman to stand beside the man whom Harry Potter would become.
But Luna also knew she would experience difficulty in her new young life. She knew she would be outcast before she even had a chance to try to appear normal. Her memories of a past life were instructional, and her newfound abilities and understanding ensured such a destiny while at Hogwarts.
She grew into her magic very sooon, sooner and more capable than any of her age-peers would or should be. But her mother, at least, understood why this was so, and spent her time teaching her young daughter of ancient and forgotten magics, of spellcrafting, and enchanting. Luna had almost forgotten the tragedy which would one day come, so immersed in living day by day as she was, and when her mother made a fatal mistake in her spell-crafting, the mortal blow to Pandora was a wound from which Luna knew she would not soon recover.
At nine years old in body, and significantly older in mind and soul, Luna took the blow of her mother's death hard. She had very few and vague memories of a mother, and what she did have ended around the same time of childhood, but Pandora was the mother that her previous life's mother could never have been. She therefore retreated more into the strangeness known to be characteristic of her family, and though it hurt to see her only friend and age-mate retreat from their friendship, Luna could not find it in herself to bridge the gap between her and Ginevra Weasley enough to continue the closeness of the bond they had shared.
At nine years old, after the death of her mother, Luna's father seemed to fade into a shadow of himself, and Luna knew he hung onto life only for her sake. She understood what others could and did not. Her mother was his anchor to this earthly existence, and only for love of his strange child did he cling to life. Luna knew her time with her father was short, and catered to him when she otherwise would not have.
The first sight of Hogwarts from the boats filled Luna with both excitement and dread. Excitement, because she could feel the sentient magic of Hogwarts reach out and caress her, soft and maternal as a mother, and strong and resilient as a father to his young. Hogwarts was the very magical parent to all her abilities—both past life and current— as she could have ever wished. The dread that followed was rooted in what she knew of the future, of what she could not stop, could not and dared not change.
Suddenly, she was thankful of her mother's early insistence and teaching of the art of Occulmency. Luna had worried, only a little, that the secrets she held within her mind would one day be plundered by less benign beings, but it was difficult to hold onto such adult worries in a child's body, even with an adult's mind at times. But Hogwarts had a way that even meeting the Weasley family had not, of reminding Luna of the times and hardships to come, and not only those which belonged to her.
Strangely enough, the very stones of Hogwarts castle seemed to brighten and dim when she entered its domain properly. The sorting hat took its time deciding her fate, though Luna knew already to which House she would be held accounted. She could have done well in any House, but Luna did not want to disrupt the future more than she already had, being born with memories of a past life which held knowledge of this life's future.
Ravenclaw was as lonely and isolated as she had expected. The prejudice against her strangeness was both anticipated and oddly discomforting. She took the bullying in stride, as only she knew she Luna Lovegood could. It added to her otherness, her ethereal oddity, and truly, she did not physically need the warmth and protection shoes and cloaks offered. Her varied heritage ensured that she did not feel the cold as other humans, even magical, would.
If Luna had been born a year earlier, perhaps she would have found academic competition in Hermione Granger, but she was a year younger. With a basilisk roaming the halls and a fraudulent liar as a defense professor, Luna slunk into books and the many offerings the Hogwarts and Ranvenclaw library offered. She knew she could not count on her professors to teach her everything she would need, and nothing of what she would want to learn, and her strangeness pushed away those who would tempt her into the stirrings of what passed for normality amongst wixen-kind.
Luna instead made numerous friends of creature-kind. Thestrals she could both see and communicate with, heralds of death and despair as they were, each winged and deathly horse was compassionate and understanding, far more so than any of humanoid being and shape. She both tended them, and was tended to by them. Unicorns, of which she thought not to have any companionship with, thinking she was not pure enough, sought out her company and shared their light with her. Centaurs gave her both respect and space, seeing what others could not, that she was both like and unalike of human-wizardkind.
When she followed Harry Potter and his friends to the Department of Mysteries, to confront a trap only she and Hermione Granger knew of, she was not unafraid, but she was undaunted. She knew they would survive, unlike Sirius Black, and she knew the experience would be worthwhile. She was counted and trusted as a friend and ally to Harry Potter, whom Fate had touched in this world. She was not ungrateful for the gift of his friendship, nor was she unknowing of where that path would lead.
When Luna was taken from the train home for the winter holidays and established in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, she did not resent her friendship with Harry Potter. Her inability to provide intelligence to the Dark Lord Voldemmort, whom she knew was Thomas M. Riddle, was counted as a loss to ranks of Darkness, to be sure, but her value as a prisoner against her father's writings in the Quibbler, she knew, was what stayed their hand at torturing her after extensive Leglimancy interrogations.
She was once again thankful for her mother's early instruction in the art of Occlumency.
Being rescued by Dobby the house-elf, along with Ollivander the wand-maker and Griphook the Goblin was nearly an afterthought of her past life memory. She knew, of course, it would come, but she had forgotten in face of tending to the elderly man and taciturn goblin while being house in the dungeon cells.
With these events, she knew the final battle was approaching, and so too was the end of her past life's memory of the current life's future. She had learned much of both magic and life, and some of the Song, which her mother had taught her to listen to and she had found that no one else in her acquaintance understood. With the drawing end of the Blood-War, Luna found herself anxious most of all.
She knew that Harry Potter would defeat the Dark Lord, and so would the forces sworn to the Light find purchase against those of the Dark. But Luna did not have any memory of herself involved in the aftermath of the ending of said war. She knew, of course, of the final battle to be pitched at Hogwarts, and of some who died and who lived the fighting. But she did not know her own path, only that she would be there.
When the appointed time came, and Luna found herself both strangely calm and yet utterly anxious. She knew she would see the near end of the battle. She knew Harry Potter would defy Death at Voldemort's hand, would live to see Voldemort's death and become the Man-Who-Conquered, even if he hated each of his hyphenated monikers.
The spell-fire of the battle was colorful and charged. Death marched among those she counted as friend, acquaintance, and enemy alike. Injury both mortal and not spared few she knew and many of those she knew not of, regardless of origin. But the closer the end of the battle drew, the closer the closure of the Blood-War drew, the more Luna's foresight—born of memory and reading during a past life—failed her.
Luna, once known as another name, once seen in a different physical image, her strangeness through two lifetimes—different, each— grew ever more concerned. Fate waited on no one and no thing, and Luna had learnt, at least in this second life, that she was living according to Fate's strings and weavings. She knew some of the future of her friends of this world, knew the pairings, a bit of the offspring that would spring from such unions, and the lives that would follow this final battle and ending of the Blood-war, but she knew not of her own fate.
Luna Lovegood daughter of Pandora Lovegood nee Eldarin and Xenophilus Lovegood, inheritor of Elven, Maiar, Wixen, and Human decscent, did not know what path Fate had in store for her after the Final Battle of the Blood-War.
Luna only knew that something Other awaited her. Something not in the designs of the world in which she had inhabited for sixteen, nearly seventeen years of her second-life. She had learnt much at her mother's knee and her father's rambling. She had listened to the song of the Earth and the symphony of Fate, and found that her life did not extend beyond what she had Seen and what she Knew.
Luna understood that something Big was coming, something she could neither cheat nor delay after such a time. Only, Luna was both excited and terrified. And when the green flash of a deadly curse brushed her arm after she had pushed the one— George Weasley–from its path, did she know that Death had come calling for he once again.
If she had the time, Luna would have sighed in resignation of her fate, of her early ended life, once again. But she did not. She met the soul-rending curse meant for another, not with shock, but acceptance. She was only glad that at least one of the Weasley twins would survive the battle and live in the world which she would leave behind. She spared a fleeting thought of her father, but knew he would accept fate as he had accepted Pandora's.
In the moment juxtaposed between life and death, Luna Lovegood, formerly known as Gynneth Elaran, saw and heard the Song of life, death, and what lay beyond, and she smiled.
Her fate might be strange, and to some tragic. Both lives she had lived thus far cut far too short, even for those of mortal kind, but Luna understood she would be born again. The green flash of light which sundered her from the plane of the living merely coaxed her soul onward, to a path she had only barely glimpsed in strange, half-forgotten dreams, hazy and blurred.
Luna Lovegood, once Gynneth Elaran, would live again to take new names, and she would not forget the lessons and learnings of previous lives, merely add them to the wisdom with which she would grow anew in a third.