Crossing the Rubicon
Robert Leroy Ripley
The Sky is Falling
"Mum?" asked Luna cautiously, returning to the hallway from her doorway. She held her stuffed Snorkack—Snorky—in her hands, clutching it to her chest.
"Yes, baby?" asked Cynthia worriedly. "What's wrong?"
"It's just…" Luna thought of what she'd seen. We are gathered here today, in remembrance of... She shook her head to clear it. She didn't want to think of what she had seen. But she couldn't help it.
Mum's going to die.
"What is it?" asked Cynthia, looking into her daughter's eyes. "It's not about the...mirror, is it?"
Luna nodded. "I saw something—something bad."
"You—you did?" asked Cynthia in a high-pitched voice. "Did...did you see yourself losing Snorky?" she asked hopefully, wishing that would be all.
"No, not like that," said the little girl. "Something...really bad."
Cynthia swallowed.
"Well, you can tell me about it," she said. "I'm all ears."
...in remembrance of Cynthia Lovegood...
"No," said Luna assertively. "No, I—never mind."
She made to take a step back to her room, but Cynthia grabbed her arm.
"You'll tell me when you're ready, won't you?" she asked, holding the small arm lightly.
Will she be alive when I'm ready to tell her? I should tell her! It could...do something...
"Yes," said Luna, nodding. "If I can."
Cynthia smiled slightly. "Good. Now where's that father of yours?"
Luna pointed her left arm down the stairs. "He said he's doing something for work."
"Thank you," said Cynthia, standing up. Luna scuttled backwards into her room, closing the door with a last glance at her mother. "Goodnight," Cynthia said quietly, as the door shut.
Luna lay on her bed, hugging Snorky with all of her being. She could not seem to fall to sleep. It was as if something were preventing it; like a person was constantly pouring water on her head without her noticing.
"What's going to happen, Snorky?" she whispered. He did not answer. Like usual.
"I'm scared," said Luna. "I don't want Mum to die. Why is she going to die, Snorky?"
Silence.
Luna tried singing the lullaby her daddy always used to sing. She had the feeling it wasn't a real lullaby. Anything can be a lullaby, she reasoned. It usually helped, at least.
She sang softly, so as not to wake Snorky, who she now thought might just be asleep.
"Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup, they slither wildly as they slip away, across the universe."
She took a breath, as her father always did. "Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind, possessing and caressing me," she sang, though she paused, just like she always did. She never could say the next words like her daddy did. They were too hard. She skipped them.
"Nothing's gonna change my world," she continued. "Nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my...," she paused, yawning, "...world.
"Goodnight, Snorky," Luna murmured sleepily, before slipping away into the nightmares that would accompany her through the night.
"Nothing's gonna change my world," Luna murmured sleepily, eyes opening slightly. She looked round, blinking.
Where am I? she thought, staring at the purple table cloth next to her head. She blinked once again.
Dreaming, she thought, sitting up while still holding on to the worn Snorky in her hands for dear life. It was a dream. Mum's dead. She died six years ago.
Luna took a deep breath, letting it out once again. What time is it? she thought, looking at the clock on her bedside table. The hands pointed at the four and the twelve.
Twelve-twenty. She took another breath, closing her eyes. Four hours. Six years.
Luna laid back on her pillow, feeling the soft fur of Snorky between her fingers. He was, she realised, just about the only thing that hadn't changed at all, since that day. It seemed everything else in her life had been turned upside-down. Well, technically Snorky too had been turned upside-down, but he had been righted within moments, every time.
Distantly, Luna heard sleep calling her. She settled into the bed more comfortably, holding Snorky for assurance.
"Nothing's gonna change my world," she whispered, just noticing the tears in her eyes as they wet the pillow case. "Nothing's gonna change my world."
Luna's eyes snapped open. She did not know why, but she had awoken very suddenly.
Sitting up in bed, the nine-year-old looked round her room. Everything seemed to be the same as usual. The green table cloth on the tarnished yellow nightstand, the blue bedspread at her feet, Snorky in her hands.
What woke me up? she wondered. Letting her legs dangle off the side of the bed, she adjusted to wakefulness. Luna stood on her soft rug and stretched a little, beginning to feel awake once more.
She tip-toed towards the door, clinging to Snorky. Peeking her head out the door, she heard voices downstairs.
"Shh!" she told Snorky, holding a finger over her mouth. "We don't want them to know we're up!"
Still tip-toeing, she made her way to the stairs and paused about halfway down. Kneeling, she peered over the rail.
"The sky is falling," she heard London whisper frightfully.
"What?" asked Cynthia, sitting in an armchair and reading a large volume. "Did you say that the—"
"Yes," said London breathlessly. "It's happening."
Luna held her breath. This can't be good, she thought.
"What are you talking about, London?" asked Cynthia again. "The sky can't—"
"Not literally," said London, peering inside the report from which he was getting these facts. "Our bimonthly columnist—Jake, you know? The one that never seems to get something wrong?"
"The one with the hat?"
London didn't hear her. "He says that something is brewing in our world that hasn't happened for generations, maybe longer."
"You mean the sky has fallen before?" asked Cynthia with a quirked eyebrow. But she looked anxious, Luna noticed. Luna didn't like it when her mother looked anxious; it scared her.
"I said it wasn't literal," said London, scanning the report.
"But what exactly is going to happen?" said Cynthia.
"Let me see…," London said, his finger moving along the lines of text. "Time is going to collapse upon itself. Everything that has happened will be undone."
"Does that mean you might be able to scrape up a better OWL score?" teased Cynthia.
"This is serious, Cynthia," said London seriously. "Everything could change. In a heartbeat. What if You-Know-Who is alive again? Really alive? What if he never was defeated?"
"London, that could never—" began Cynthia, but she stopped. Her face turned pale. "London, when is this supposed to...well, happen?"
"Soon," said London. "Jake wasn't sure when."
"How exactly did Jake learn about this? He doesn't strike me as a...well, a person, really. Always going around like…without shoes. And that hat! Who's crazy idea was that hat? No, he doesn't seem like a person to me. Better not trust him with that bimonthly column…" said Cynthia. It was clear she was trying to take her mind off of the actual subject.
"I gave him that hat, for Christmas a couple years back, remember?" said London softly. "Cynthia, I don't know how Jake caught wind of this. But he did. He's got connections, I guess. I see it as a warning. I don't think we should do anything out of the ordinary for a while. Just stick to what we always do. You do your experiments, I'll work on the articles. And Luna plays tea-party, with Snorky. Don't talk with anyone new."
"R—right," said Cynthia, an odd look on her face. Luna knew that look. It was only on her mother's face when she said something that she was not sure about. Clearly, she was not sure about this being "right."
"I think I'll...head up to bed," Luna heard her mother say. Luna scuttled backwards, toward her door, but London stopped Cynthia.
"Love you," he said. "Be careful."
"I love you too, London," she said, smiling slightly. "I will."
Luna closed her bedroom door, and climbed up into bed. She thought about what she had heard. Before long, these thoughts drifted into a troubled sleep, and Luna was once again among her dreams.
Luna awoke once again, an odd feeling in her chest. Something, she felt, simply was not right.
In the darkness of her room, she could make out the shapes of her wardrobe, her nightstand, and she could just barely see her window. Usually, the window was more visible, but tonight the sky was darker than she ever remembered it.
There was no moon.
Luna never liked it when there was no moon in the sky. It gave her the eerie feeling that the sky was sneaking up on her. She couldn't see anything, so there was no reason to assume it all was normal. She shivered. It made her think that the sky might be falling.
Standing up, Luna walked over to the aforementioned window, and gazed out at the quiet street. None of the houses had any lights on, except for one down the very end of the street, in which she was quite sure the occupant had fled the country, leaving all of the lights on by mistake.
Staring out across the universe, Luna felt sleep overcome her once again. She collapsed on the window sill, her head in her arms.
She didn't see the clock on her bedside table. She didn't look at her clock, and she didn't know what time it was.
She didn't know that the clock read four-nineteen.
Awakening once again, Luna could feel something was very, very wrong.
"Mum?" she murmured softly. "Mum, where are you?" Of course, she did not really expect anyone to answer, as she was alone in her room, but with Snorky for company. Well, technically she had other stuffed animals for company as well, but none of them were nearly as close to her as Snorky was. Literally or figuratively. He was her very best animal friend. She loved him with all her heart.
We are gathered here today...
Luna scrambled out of bed, clutching the flashlight her father had made sure was beside her, in case of emergencies. She may only have been nine years old, but she could feel this was an emergency.
...in remembrance...
Tip-toeing to her door, Luna felt what she knew was called déjà vu. But, she realised, she had tip-toed to her door before. Earlier that night, in fact. But she remembered holding the flashlight, which she had not touched in a long time, and had most certainly never tip-toed with it in the middle of the night before. So it was déjà vu.
...of Cynthia Lovegood...
The words rang through Luna's head so loud that she could swear she must have been right next to the man who was speaking them. But she was not. She didn't even know who was speaking them. She had never seen the face. Only the deep voice. The voice which had haunted all her thoughts since she had looked into that mirror.
Clasping the doorknob, Luna pulled it gently so that the hinges would not creak. She did not want to wake anyone else up with her night time wandering. She just wanted to make sure they were both okay. Mum especially.
Luna shined the beam of the flashlight on the wooden floorboards of the hallway. She could see the thick orange carpet on the floor. Walking forwards slightly, Luna realised she had forgotten Snorky. She doubled back, quickly and quietly, and re-emerged with the stuffed animal in one hand, flashlight in the other.
Walking onto the rug, she felt the familiar feel of it beneath her bare feet. It felt oddly cold in the hallway, despite it being the middle of July. She shivered in her nightdress, clutching Snorky to her. The beam of light moved slowly along the floor in front of her.
Finally, she could see the bottom of the door to her mother's room. No, not her bedroom. Her room. The room in which she did her experiments. Luna did not know why, but she now felt that her mother was awake, and out of bed. The only place she would go was her room.
Slowly but surely, Luna made her way to the door. She felt that there was a weight in her chest, something telling her to go back to bed. But she couldn't go back to bed, not now. Not when her hand was already on the doorknob...
Turning her hand with Snorky under her shoulder, Luna put the flashlight ahead of her before she took a step in. For some reason, however, the light went out as soon as it past the threshold, and Luna was blinded in the darkness.
"Luna?" came a muffled voice.
"Mum!" said Luna excitedly.
She had not known what she was expecting, but she was glad to hear her mother's voice. Some part of her told her this was wrong; that she wasn't supposed to hear her mother's voice. But she completely ignored that part of herself, stepping into her mother's room.
"Mum?" she asked uncertainly, gazing upon a weeping figure in a chair.
"It's me, baby," said Cynthia Lovegood from the chair. She looked up, and Luna saw that her face was covered in tears.
"What's wrong, Mum?" asked Luna apprehensively. "Why are you crying?"
"Come here," said Cynthia, patting an empty space on the large chair beside her. Luna moved forward cautiously. "What are you doing up at this hour?"
"I was scared," said Luna, sitting down on the soft chair. "I thought you were gone."
"No, I'm right here, baby," said Cynthia, hugging her daughter with all of her strength. "I'm not going anywhere." From close up, despite the darkness, Luna could see tears sparkling on her mother's face.
"Why are you crying?" she asked again. "Did something happen?"
"No," said her mother. "Nothing happened. Something was going to happen, but it didn't..."
"Something was going to happen?" asked Luna confuzzledly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" began Cynthia, but she stopped. "I don't really know what I mean. I just know that everything's perfectly okay. I've told you about guardian angels, right?"
"What was it?" repeated Luna, not caring about guardian angels in the least, at the moment. This was her mum. She was alive. That was all that mattered.
"It was…well. Something was going to happen, like I said. Something bad." She sniffled. "But there's no sense talking about it. It didn't happen, and that's all that matters."
Luna put her hand on her mother's. "You'll tell me when you're ready, won't you?" she asked, holding the larger hand lightly.
"Yes," said Cynthia, smiling through her tears. "If I can."
"You can," said Luna confidently. "I know it."
Cynthia gathered her daughter up in her arms once again, her cheek on the small girl's head. "I love you so much, my Queen," she said.
"I love you too," said Luna.
"And I'm not going anywhere," said Cynthia again. "I'm going to be here as long as you need me. And even after that, when I annoy you. And even after that, when you're married, and have children of your own, I'll be at your house everyday. And when your children have children, and..."
"I get it," said Luna, smiling. "You're not going anywhere."
"I'm not going anywhere," repeated Cynthia.
For the longest time, the two just sat next to each other on that large chair, looking at each other's faces. Luna saw herself in her mother in a way she never had before. It was as if she was looking in a mirror that showed herself when she grew up. If she had lighter hair, at least.
Something in her chest, once again, told her that all was not right. Her mother was supposed to be dead; she had already thought of her as dead. Since the mirror, Luna had given up hope that her mother would be there ever again. Now that that little prophecy had been proved wrong, Luna did not want to listen to her gut again for a while. This had to be right, right? Everyone was happy. Except Dad, she realised, he's slept through the whole thing.
"After all," said Cynthia eventually, breaking the silence at last. "'tis not right for a subject to abandon her Queen."
"No," said Luna. "No, it's not."
Once again, it may be awhile before the next chapter goes up. You may have noticed it has taken awhile for this chapter to go up.
The delay is for one of two reasons:
1.) It is really very mean to have a delay after this chapter.
2.) I've been working a lot on other things, like my story "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince" which you can find in my profile, so I haven't worked on this very much. Also, there have been numerous other short-stories, like my SiYE contest entry, and original short, the illogically nonsensical story "Illogical Nonsense" (which can be found on and ) In addition to this, I have added (or am about to add, if you are reading this as soon as it goes online) lots of parodies to my site, Polyjuice Parodies, which can be found at www.polyjuiceparodies.tk. While waiting for the next chapter, you should go check them out (they aren't stories, however; they are Potterized pictures and logos from otherwise non-related topics like TV shows, movies, books, and the entirely new category games.)
So, once again, it will be a while before I post the—
The Fire and the Rose
Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?"
Edward FitzGerald
Wait patiently. And review. Please.