Potter47 Part Two
Crossing the Rubicon "Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say:
Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?"Edward FitzGerald Chapter Twelve
The Fire and the Rose
Luna awoke on her right side, her head comfortably resting on her soft pillow. For a few moments, she simply lay there, savouring the scent of the warm summer air around her.
Her eyes blinked open, unfocused. Her room was bright, the sun shining in through the sole, open window.
She reached her left hand up to her nightstand, where a half-full glass of water stood, just like always. Dad always snuck it into her room in the middle of the night, if she forgot to get it herself, so that she would not go thirsty during the night.
That's not all he did tonight, she realised. I fell asleep by the window last night. He must have put me into the bed, like he used to do when I was little.
After taking a sip of the water, Luna offered some to Snorky, but he declined, just as he always did.
Taking care to not spill any of the remaining water, Luna finally got to her feet. She slid her feet into the fuzzy-Snorkack slippers on the floor, and placed the glass on the green-covered nightstand.
Green? thought Luna idly, quirking her head quizzically at the tablecloth. That doesn't seem right.
Shaking her head, Luna made her way to the bedroom door. She doubled back for her dressing gown, remembering that Ronald was downstairs.
When she emerged into the living room, however, she did not see Ronald on the sofa as she had expected. In fact, the entire downstairs seemed to be deserted.
Sitting down on the couch, she put her chin on her hand, and thought, He must have left already. I didn't realise he was that desperate to leave. He did want to go last night, but why did he agree? He could have slept in his own, comfy, attic—oh. But he could have at least left a note! He just got up and left at—what time is it?
She looked at the clock above the fireplace. Seven o'clock, it said. It actually did; Dad did not like the Wizarding clocks, which said "You're Late" or "Embarrassed." Or, even more, he hated the ones with twelve hands and planets and such. They were far too complicated, he said.
But as she saw the time, she looked down and saw the pictures that stood on the mantel. Photographs, both magic and Muggle. She saw the familiar baby pictures, the individual pictures of both her parents, and she saw a picture of herself in a flowered dress, taken when she was...four, she thought.
But, unfamiliar, was the photo in the centre of the mantelpiece. It was a large, magical shot, and Luna could see all three of the Lovegoods within its frame. Her eyes still had not fully adjusted to the brightness, but she swore that she saw a fourth head, right next to her own. She stood up and walked round the coffee table to get a better look.
She peered closer to the photograph, and saw that the occupants were grouped round a campfire, smiling at the camera, which seemed to have been set on a timer of some sort, so that everyone could get into the shot. London Lovegood sat next to Cynthia on the right side of the picture, the former with an arm around the latter's shoulders. They both smiled merrily at the camera, and made funny faces while the other wasn't looking. London was roasting a marshmallow on a long twig.
On the other side of the photograph, however, sat Luna herself, nearest to the centre. She smiled slightly at the camera, hair tied up at the back of her head so that it stayed neatly away from the flames.
Next to her, there was indeed a fourth face. It was one she knew well, of course, as she had met the accompanying person years and years ago. He smiled joyously at the camera, though his eyes looked a little more…distressed, than Luna's parents' had. As if he was happy at that moment, happy being with the Lovegoods, but was otherwise not so happy, in the rest of the aspects of his life.
It was Ronald.
Luna's eyes widened slightly as she realised that she knew that fire, that campground. She had spent a week there, before third year. It was the Quidditch World Cup.
But Ronald didn't come anywhere near us at the Quidditch World Cup. He was with Harry and Hermione and Ginny and the rest, and—
Her train of thought stopped so abruptly that it seemed as though there was something stopping its progress on the tracks.
MUM wasn't at the Quidditch World Cup AT ALL!
Luna stumbled back, tripping over the coffee table as she fell back onto the familiar couch. She remembered her Mum at the Quidditch World Cup! But...she didn't...remember her, at the same time.
"Oh, come on, just try one s'more, please!" London said, pressing the gooey marshmallow-and-graham-cracker-and-chocolate snack at his wife, who was trying—and failing—to push his arm back. "I know you'll want some more!"
Luna sat, faintly bored, staring at the fire. She noticed the Beatles music that London was blasting for all the campground to listen to, but she didn't really hear it.
Ronald hasn't come over very much this summer, she thought. I miss him.
Well he has a good reason, she reasoned.
I suppose so, Luna agreed with herself.
Luna emerged from her reverie when she heard the faint sound of footfalls behind her. Faint, of course, because there were many sounds to hear at a very loud campground that were not footfalls approaching behind oneself. In fact, the footfalls were probably too soft to hear at all, but Luna noticed them anyway.
Luna saw her parents laughing, marshmallow and chocolate all over their faces. They hadn't noticed the sound.
"Hello?" she asked, turning round to face whoever it was. It was dark, but she recognised him immediately. "Ronald! What are you doing here?"
"Hey, Luna," he said, walking up to the fire. "Can I sit here awhile?"
"Of course, Ronald," said Luna smiling. "Why would we say no?"
"I dunno," said Ronald, shaking his head. "I just...well, things were getting rather...edgy at our camp. It's been like that all the time now, since...well, you know."
"Yes," she said, nodding understandingly.
"Would you like a s'more?" offered London, who had—along with Cynthia—been silent until now. "They're simply wonderful..." He held out the one he had just toasted.
"Thanks, Mr Lovegood," said Ronald awkwardly, clumsily taking the gooey treat from the man's hand.
"When will you stop with all this formality?" asked Cynthia. "You're practically part of the family and you have been for years—why do you still call us Mr and Mrs Lovegood?"
"Formality?" Ronald repeated, quirking an eyebrow in Luna's general direction. "I don't know why. I just do. I don't think I'd be comfortable calling you...your first names. What are your first names, anyway?" he asked sheepishly. "I can never remember, and I never hear them that much anyway."
"London and Cynthia," said London. "Or, if we're both in the room, feel free to call us Lonthia."
Ronald laughed, but then apparently realised it was not a joke. Luna's father was indeed suggesting he call them 'Lonthia.'
"No thanks," said Ronald. "I'll stick with Mr and Mrs Lovegood. For now, at least."
"Would you like s'more s'mores?" asked London with a grin.
She didn't know why, but Luna remembered both. She remembered what it was like to have her mother there, and what it was like when she wasn't.
But how could she have been? thought Luna. Mum died, a long time before....
A thought sprung to her mind suddenly, a thought she did not remember thinking ever before, yet a thought she had thought about numerous times.
"Nothing happened. Something was going to happen, but it didn't..."
"Something was going to happen? What do you mean?"
"I mean… I don't really know what I mean. I just know that everything's perfectly okay. I've told you about guardian angels, right?"
Yes, Mum, Luna thought. You've told me about guardian angels. You just never happened to mention who yours was....
Last night, remembered Luna, they had spoken through the mirror. She and her mother. They had changed something. And now….
"Luna?" came a familiar voice from behind her. She jumped when she heard it, and spun herself around on the couch.
"Ronald?" she said, thoughts of her mother vanishing in an instant. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, no..." said Ronald, putting his head in his hands. "You don't remember..."
"Don't remember what?" asked Luna, arms on the back of the couch.
"Everything!" Ronald cried. "The mirror, the attic, the desk, the sandwiches…I must have imagined it all. But it seems so real…"
Ronald remembers both too, Luna realised. She, however, could not seem to remember something about Ronald. Something...important. She knew it was important, but she didn't know what it was.
"No, no, I do remember!" said Luna hurriedly, jumping up from the couch. "But what happened?"
"You remember?" said Ronald happily. "Really?"
"Yes," said Luna.
"Then I'm not going barmy!"
"No, no you're not barmy," said Luna. "But what happened? How are we…"
"I dunno," said Ronald. "Last night, I fell asleep here. But I woke up at home, at the Burrow. Everyone was asleep, so I just came right back. It doesn't make any—"
"Ronald," Luna said calmly, "I think we changed something. With the...the mirror. Mum's still alive!"
"What?" said Ronald. "How could your mother...no, wait. I knew that."
Luna was very, very confuzzled. She had always thought that she would see her mother again someday, but she didn't mean now. Nothing was really making much sense in her mind, so she just sat back down on the comfy couch and put her head in her hands.
"Have a seat," she offered Ronald.
She tried to remember the past six years with her mother in them, but it was rather difficult. Her mind was set so much to dealing with life without her mother there. Trying to think of what it was like with her seemed against her nature. All she could remember was that bit of conversation, and the Quidditch World Cup. Nothing else about this alternate reality came to her mind.
She managed to scrape up one recollection, however. It was...in third year. There was still a Triwizard Tournament, she remembered that.
But why wouldn't there be? she reasoned. It's not like Mum dying made that big a deal to the outside world.
She remembered there being a Triwizard Tournament. For the life of her, she couldn't remember Harry competing, but she also couldn't imagine why he wouldn't have. She did, however, remember the Yule Ball.
"Ronald?" she asked, walking up to the Gryffindor table at lunch. He turned round in his seat to face her.
"What?" he asked.
"Ronald, do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?" Luna asked him calmly.
"Sure, I guess," he said. "Why not?"
She smiled and made her way back to the Ravenclaw table.
There, she thought. That wasn't so hard.
Luna remembered that there hadn't been that many people at the Gryffindor table. It had seemed almost empty, and most of the students were missing. She didn't remember seeing Harry, or Ginny, for one. And many other students were gone as well. They must have gone home for the holidays, she reasoned.
"Do you want to...you know, dance?" asked Ronald, wearing his maroon dress robes. They did not have frilly edges, she noticed. She didn't know why she noticed. After all, why would they?
"If you want to," she replied. "If you don't want to, we don't have to."
"Oh," said Ronald thankfully. "Good."
Luna remembered that most of the other girls had forced their dates to dance at least once. Ronald had been anxious about it; he didn't like dancing. Why should he have to, if he didn't want to? And she didn't really like dancing all that much herself.
"Luna," said Ronald as they made their way out into the rose garden, "Um, Luna, I just..."
"What?" she asked, gazing out over the grounds, still walking beside him.
"Er, well I...had a really...nice. Time. Tonight." He paused awkwardly between each word, making it seem as they were separate thoughts.
"So did I," said Luna, nodding and looking in the direction of Hagrid's abandoned hut.
"Well, I..." Ronald stopped, not quite sure how to say what he was trying to say.
"You what?" asked Luna, finally turning round to look him in the face.
"I um...here."
He held out a rose that he had evidently picked from one of the nearby bushes. It was rather prickly, and kind of not-very-alive looking, as if he had crumpled it in his hand accidentally.
Yes, she noticed, he must have. He's got little pricks on his hand from it. Maybe that's where these bits of blood came from.
She took it from his outstretched hand, and sniffed it.
It still smells nice, though, she thought.
"Thank you, Ronald," she said, nose in the flower.
"You—you're welcome," he said awkwardly.
She moved closer to him, stood on the tips of her toes, and kissed him on the cheek. Somehow, it seemed to bring him to his senses a bit.
"Thank you," she said again.
"Luna," he said, newfound courage showing, "do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me, on the next, you know, Hogsmeade weekend?"
She looked at him confuzzledly. "But we always go to Hogsmeade together—why would this time be any different?"
"That's not...that's not exactly what I meant..."
The memory abruptly stopped, for some reason. Luna could not fathom why.
Oh. That's why, she fathomed.
An owl had swooped into the living room, coming to a landing atop Ronald's shoulder. He looked at it oddly, recognising it yet not really recognising it.
"What's this?" Ronald asked no one in particular, unless of course he was addressing the owl, who wasn't really 'someone in particular' as much as 'something in particular' as it and Ronald weren't did not even know each others' names.
Luna turned and noticed for the first time that Ronald had accepted her invitation to sit on the couch. She did not know why she hadn't noticed; she had seen the owl land on his shoulder, and must have realised subconsciously that he had indeed sat down. But she just hadn't really made note of it, for some reason.
The owl departed through the open window above the kitchen sink, which was visible through the open doorway. Ronald stared at the letter in his hands, not making a move to open it.
"That's not possible," he said, shaking his head.
"What?" said Luna, peering over his arm at the envelope. She read the front of it:
"I already got my OWL results, remember? Last night—"
"Last night never happened, remember?" Luna said. She nodded towards the envelope. "You must never have gotten them in this...universe."
"Right," said Ronald, nodding, though he did not seem to think that it was 'right' at all. In fact, he seemed to think that nothing seemed 'right'.
Well, thought Luna, he hasn't just got his mother back, has he?
Ronald broke the wax seal on the letter and pulled out the folded up piece of parchment. Unfolding it, both Ronald and Luna saw the bold "THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC" heading on the top of the page, with the same words as on the outside of the envelope beneath it. Below that, it read,
Arithmancy
—PG: N/A
—WG: N/A
—OWL: N/A
Astronomy
—PG: D
—WG: N/A
—OWL: None
Care of Magical Creatures
—PG: O
—WG: A
—OWL: One (1)
Charms
—PG: P
—WG: D
—OWL: None
Defence Against the Dark Arts
—PG: E
—WG: A
—OWL: One (1)
Divination
—PG: E
—WG: O
—OWL: One (1)
Herbology
—PG: P
—WG: D
—OWL: None
History of Magic
—PG: N/A
—WG: D
—OWL: None
Muggle Studies
—PG: N/A
—WG: N/A
—OWL: N/A
Potions
—PG: D
—WG: D
—OWL: None
The Study of Ancient Runes
—PG: N/A
—WG: N/A
—OWL: N/A
Transfiguration
—PG: P
—WG: P
—OWL: None
Total OWLS: Three (3)
"Three?" said Ronald incredulously. "But I got six!"
"Well, three's not that bad," said a familiar voice from the stairway. "London only got two, you know. And he turned out...well, I suppose you could say 'fine...' Perhaps 'okay' would be a better term. Or maybe not...well. Don't be too upset. It could have been wo—wo—worse."
Staring at the yawning figure on the bottom step of the stairway, Luna had to agree.
It could have been worse.
Perihelion "Oh, what a beautiful mornin'
Oh, what a beautiful day.
I got a beautiful feelin'
Everything's going my way."
Oscar Hammerstein II Coming Soon