Authors Notes: First, if you're not into reading the notes, just get on with the story. I plan to blabber on for a while, but I don't want you to miss out on the fic just because I have a blabbering problem.
Well, I got the idea for this story on the 31st of October 2005. Me and my siblings were sat together and they all being younger were complaining, saying it was 'the worst Halloween ever'. I suddenly got the idea to write a Halloween fan-fiction…I thought we could all contribute ideas and I could write the main thing. So we tried that…and a few of the ideas came from them, but in the end they abandoned it. I finished the story a few days later I think, but it's taken a long long time to get it up here. I typed it up…then my close friend Lily McDermott beta-read it, but didn't return it until late December. I then thought it needed a second beta-read, but my beta theeighthweasley had a personal problem to deal with before she could do it. Finally this week I got it back…and here it is. I managed it before Halloween 2006…enjoy, despite it being out of season, I've worked hard to get it to you. :)
Halloween at the Weasleys'
I stood outside the window, shivering on that cold October evening. Nobody knew I was there – and hopefully it would stay that way.
I was watching … watching the Weasley family spend a Halloween together. The atmosphere looked so happy and cheerful. Perhaps my own family would have been like that if we were still together, but my mother died a few years ago and Daddy has taken to hiding in his office most of the time. We go on outings together sometimes, but now he seems more miserable than usual. I don't know why.
Ginny and I hadagreed to go trick-or-treating that night. She is my only friend really, despite being in a different house.
Most of my classmates are a bit mean, but I suppose it's not their fault. After all, not everybody can be as nice as Ginny Weasley. It still hurts when they call me 'Loony' Lovegood and hide my things, though.
Anyway, trick-or-treating is a Muggle custom – not even English really – but Ginny was reading an American book and thought it sounded fun.
That's why I was there, standing outside The Burrow in my house-elf costume. I couldn't bring myself to go in though, not then. No, I just watched –and wished that one day I'd have a happy family again.
A tall wizard with long hair tied in a ponytail walked up the drive. A fang – or that's what it appeared to be – hung from his left ear. Quite nice, really, but I prefer radishes.
Ginny has spoken about him – Bill, her oldest brother. Then there's Charlie who works with dragons, and the twins, Fred and George. I've always thought it might be nice to have a twin. Last of all, but not at all least, is her brother Ronald. He's in the year above me at Hogwarts, and hangs around with Harry Potter and a girl with bushy hair and big teeth.
Ronald appeared to be wearing a knight costume tonight, and earlier I heard someone mention wizard's chess …
Bill hadn't noticed I was there, and he went inside. A woman ran over to him, pulled off his cloak and ruffled his hair. That must have been Mrs Weasley.
She looks like a nice mother; Ginny and her brothers are lucky that she is still with them.
I leant closer to the window; I wanted to be able to hear their conversation as well as watch.
Another man entered the room, dressed in Muggle clothes, beaming proudly.
"Arthur, what are you wearing?" Mrs Weasley asked, looking disapprovingly at the man called Arthur.
"I'm dressed as a Muggle! For Halloween, Molly dear!" he replied excitedly. It was blatantly obvious he was Mr Weasley.
I noticed the twins exchange mischievous looks and back out of the room. Quite odd behaviour really, I thought.
One of the brothers was seated at the kitchen table, fiddling with his watch. I don't think Ginny had ever mentioned him before.
"Perce, come and look at this!" another voice said. I tilted my head to see who the voice belonged too. Yet another freckled boy sat on an arm-chair by the fire. He had a book on his lap, and looked at it enthusiastically.
Ronald and Percy – what else is 'Perce' short for? – went over to him, the latter took his time with purposefully slow steps.
The boy in the arm-chair, whom I presumed was Charlie, lifted up the book. A moving picture stuck out. It was a photograph of Charlie and a huge blue dragon.
"Wow!" said Ron, awe-struck. Percy, on the other hand, seemed un-impressed and went back to his seat.
"The photographer came back in April, but I didn't think they would actually publish their book – especially not including me in it! Sent me a free copy, though, it just arrived." Charlie said, and showed Ronald the cover. The words I could make out were 'World's Best Dragons'.
I wonder if Ronald is any good at wizard's chess. Daddy used to belong to the Wizard's Chess Club at one point, but he isn't that good to be honest.
Bill loosened the band in his ponytail at this pointand walked further into the room. "Guess what?"
I thought he was trying to stay casual, but was very excited about something. His parents turned to face him, Ron and Charlie looked up, and even Percy made a point of finishing the article he was reading in The Daily Prophet, before turning his head.
I don't see why he bothers with The Prophet anyway; The Quibbler makes so much more of an interesting read. Plus we give out free gifts; this month is everlasting sunflower seeds. I planted mine and they soon grew, so I cut off two of the heads and stuck them on my sandals. Rather nice really.
Fred and George re-entered the room. They looked rather pleased about something … Ginny followed them.
Sometimes people say red-heads are ugly, but every one of the Weasleys have red hair and you couldn't call any of them ugly. I think red hair is probably the best hair colour you can have. It's unusual; you don't see it as often as black, brown or blonde. Dirty-blonde. So boring.
Once, when I was eight, I tried to dye my hair. The spell-book said purple – I was in the little-girl purple stage then – (oh wait … it's normally pink, isn't it?) Well, I always preferred purple to pink, but when I tried the spell with Mummy's wand it didn't work. Well magic happened sure enough, but it didn't turn my hair purple. No, it turned my cat, Quibblenose's hair purple. Poor thing, it wouldn't eat for weeks, not even after Daddy got rid of the dye. Mummy told me I shouldn't be ungrateful, my hair is lovely and everything – but sometimes I can't help being jealous.
Anyway, that night, Ginny looked really pretty. Even Ronald looked astounded that his scruffy sister could have looked good. I wish I had chosen a better costume than this. Nobody likes house-elves. That's why I was dressed as one – I feel sorry for them. A large pillow-case doesn't quite keep out the cold, unfortunately, but the striped tea-cozy on my head was quite snug.
Ginny was dressed as a fairy,twirling and whirling for her fatheras he took out a camera.
I remember doing the same thing for my father last year, but the click never happened. Daddy's finger hovered over the button, but then he dropped the camera and began to sob uncontrollably. He always used to take pictures of me and Mummy together.
"What?" Charlie asked. I wondered if that was short for Charles.
Bill grinned. "Well, there was this bet going on between a few of us at work, about which of five goblins could fill a chest of Galleons the fastest."
Percy snorted and went back to his paper. I don't think I liked him very much.
Bill ignored him and carried on, "Well, my goblin was fastest and I won a hundred Galleons!"
Mrs Weasley screamed in excitement and hugged him, the twins exchanged high-fives and even Percy looked up from behind his reading-glasses.
Ginny mentioned that they did not have very much money, so it was going to be a big thing for them. Although with a family of nine, you can't really expect them to be rich.
"We can get new curtains! And the saucepans are dreadfully-"
"Now now, Molly, don't get carried away! This is Bill's money; he might want it for himself," Mr Weasley said, taking a big step toward his oldest son, "But if you do have a bit left over, I really want to get one of those washer thingumys and have a play-"
"I've already spent the money."
I found it very amusing when Bill said that, but I don't think the Weasleys did.
"You did what?"
"I bought a magic carpet for the whole family!"
"Well I suggest you sell it, because magic carpets have been banned for years. Everybody knows that," Percy said in a dull voice, as if the matter was boring him.
"Ministry lifted the ban last week! Guy I bought it off told me!" Bill sad proudly, and he pulled a small patch of material from his pocket. I watched closely as the tapped it with his wand and it expanded. This could have been a good story for The Quibbler.
"Sorry Bill, but whoever sold that to you was lying. Why only yesterday we had someone trying to send Muggles to Spain on their magic carpet. Why they do these things I really don't know!" Arthur replied. "Silly rule if you ask me, bet our ancestors were allowed magic carpets!"
"I prefer brooms any day," Charlie said, then as an afterthought, he added, "Bad luck, bro."
I wonder what it's like to have a brother. Or a sister for that matter. I think I'd like it, but from Ginny's stories, it doesn't sound as nice as it seems.
Bill stared glumly at the carpet for a second, then without hesitation he made it smaller again and shoved it back in his pocket. "Going to get my money back off that toad. I'll try and be back for supper," he said shortly, pulling his cloak back on. Before anybody could speak, he was gone.
I watched him stride down the drive and then road, cursing under his breath. It's a shame that some people find a need for greed, like the carpet seller. I hoped Bill got the money back; it was quite a lot for an illegal carpet.
I wondered what the twins were up to; George hadjust whispered something in Ginny's ear and she left the room.
I hoisted myself up so that I was standing on the window ledge, and edged to the right a bit. Luckily I came to a view of Ginny's bedroom, and nobody above or below seemed to notice.
Nobody was in her room, apart from a very strange looking figure. Harry Potter. Well that's what it looked like. He didn't exactly look human though. Ginny came in and took a double-take. Well, it's not often The Boy Who Lived appears in your bedroom.
"H … Harry?" she whispered. She likes him; it would be obvious even if I hadn't heard her telling another one of her friends.
Then came the weird thing.
'Harry' said in a robotic voice, "Hi there, Ginny."
Ginny, who was now bright pink, raced out of the room, yelling for her mum.
Mrs Weasley soon raced into the room. "Harry? This isn't Harry!" she said, looking rather bewildered. I suspected she knew him well.
"Hi there, Ginny," the robotic voice said again.
Mrs Weasley went over to 'Harry' and touched his arm. It fell to the floor. She jumped and it was then that we both realised 'Harry' was a cardboard cut-out.
Molly – as her husband called her – hurried out of the room. I stopped clutching onto the wall and fell to the ground. It wasn't that much of a fall; I've got a bruise on my knee but nothing more. I really should have chosen a warmer costume though, I don't really think pillow-cases are good winter wear. Or autumn wear, but it felt like winter.
I stood and peered back in the window. A very angry looking Mrs Weasley was pointing her finger at the twins.
"I have had enough! Do you hear me? ENOUGH! How could you do that? Make a cardboard Harry, charm it to speak one pathetic sentence, and send your sister up there?" she paused and turned to her husband. "Tell them, Arthur!" she snapped and went over to the boiling potatoes.
Mr Weasley, who had just come down the stairs, and spoke in a low voice so his wife couldn't hear, "How did you do that voice? Genius work!" He looked at the twins, enthusiasm dancing in his eyes and speech.
"Oh easy, just a Voice Charm, sadly we could only get that robot tone, but it was better than–"
"And the cardboard Harry?"
The other twin grinned. "Bit of Transfiguration on a photo we found in Ginny's room–"
Ginny, who had been sitting on an arm-chair, glowering, jumped up.
"Dad, they went in my room! Through my stuff!"
Mr Weasley looked very confused; he probably wasn't very good with punishments.
"Ginny, dear, what time is your friend coming?"
Ginny looked thoughtful for a moment. She had probably forgotten about me and the trick-or-treating. "Luna … She should be here by now, she only lives fifteen minutes away…" She paused, likely not wanting her brothers to get off lightly. "Dad! Punish them!"
I looked away. Maybe I should have gone in then, but I didn't want to. I didn't belong in that house, with that family. I should have been at home, with my parents, singing by the light of jack-o-lanterns in the garden, watching those carved pumpkins grin menacingly. I love them.
We always used to get big knives and carve creative faces. Once, Mummy did a really good one of Quibblenose; even the nose was perfect. Mine were always a bit wonky though. We haven't done any since she died. Daddy did try and harvest that year's pumpkins, after she died in September, but it didn't really work. The pumpkins didn't like his hands; they wanted Mummy, just as I do.
No, I won't go in. Not yet.
"Supper's ready! You – Ginny, tablecloth; Fred, cutlery; George, drinks; Charlie, candles; Percy, pass me the plates. Oh, and Ron, you can carve out that pumpkin, its going in the middle of the table." Molly Weasley's voice rang out through the room, as everyone scattered about to do their jobs.
"How come Dad doesn't have to do anything?" Ginny grumbled.
If I were her, then I'd do all of those jobs everyday, if only it meant I still had a mother.
"Your father is going to get Bill," Mrs Weasley replied. "Arthur, go and find Bill!"
Mr Weasley looked rather glad to get out of the way. Perhaps he's one of those people who don't enjoy big family get-togethers and stuff.
I watched as the wind slammed the front-door behind him, and he kicked a stone as his wife yelled after him, "Don't slam the door!"
He looked directly at me. He shut his eyes. I ducked. He opened them.
"Must have been dreaming … no house-elf would set a foot near this dump…" he murmured to himself before setting off down the path once more.
With a relieved sigh, I regained my position against the window.
Oh dear … Ronald had just dropped the pumpkin on his foot. A small flame flickered, and then went out. He must have carved it quickly if it already had a light inside. I hoped he would be OK, as the pumpkin definitely wasn't. Rolling around the slate tiled floor like Quibblenose when he was a kitten. Slowly it came to a halt, and exploded, orange pumpkin insides flying in every direction.
Charlie waved his wand at it, and one by one each piece flew back and formed the pumpkin once more, but it was too late.
"Ronald Weasley! I ask you to do a simple task, a simple task, and you just have to mess it up!" Mrs Weasley raged, her wooden spoon waving dangerously in the air. Ronald eyed the spoon worriedly, following its every movement.
"Mum, it's OK – the pumpkin is fine!" Charlie saidin an attempt to calm his mother down, as he took the spoon away from her.
I supposed she would find it hard to tell Charlie off, as according to Ginny he had left home.
I feel so sorry for Ronald. Mrs Weasley should have been asking him if his foot was OK, instead of shouting at him. I suppose she can't be perfect, especially not with such a large family.
"Sorry, Mum …" Ron muttered, clutching his foot. I knew it hurt. I was tempted to go in there myself, and get it under a cold tap.
"And so you should be! Get that pumpkin on the table! Now!"
I watched as Ron hopped over to the table, carrying the newly lit pumpkin, when someone tried to make a spooky noise. It sounded like the noise was coming from behind me. I turned around to see a boy, with pale blonde hair slicked back, glaring at me under his face-paint.
"Oh, hello, Draco," I said calmly.
He's in Ron's year at school, but in Slytherin. He can be very mean to people, especially Harry Potter, Ronald and Bushy Big Teeth, but he's sweet too. I've noticed him and his friends play this game, King of the Castle or something. He is always the king and his friends are the servants. I enjoy watching them play sometimes.
"How do you know my name?" he asked, looking at me incredulously as he checked his hair in the window reflection.
"Well, most people know it. You're quite popular at Hogwarts," I replied. It's true; he is popular even if it is in a bad way.
He glared at me for a moment and finally said, "What are you doing here?"
I didn't reply for a while, considering my answer. You have to be careful what you say around him. "Me and Ginny are going trick-or-treating."
Draco stared at me. I stared back.
"Why don't you go in then?" he asked, and before I could speak, continued, "I know, it's 'cause you've got such a big crush on Weaselbee, you're too scared to go in, so you're just standing here, trembling in your boots!" He smirked. He obviously gets pleasure from this in some way.
"Sandals, actually," I said, pointing out his mistake politely. I watched Draco's eyes dart to my feet. They stayed there for some time.
"Sandals? Why are you wearing sandals? It's October, for Merlin's sake!"
"Oh well, I felt like it. Don't you like the sunflowers?" I replied, looking down at my sandals fondly, with the Quibbler sunflowers stuck on them.
Draco looked me in the eye. "You know something, Loony?"
I smiled. I know lots of things. How long a Crumple Horned Snorkack lives for instance, and how Professor Flitwick likes his tea.
"You're weird."
I looked up at the moon. I hadn't been expecting that. Well, I know I'm weird but well-mannered people wouldn't say that to your face. Poor Draco; his parents can't have taught him very much.
"What are you looking at? Don't ignore me!" He sounded irritated.
"My mum on the moon."
"You mean man on the moon. For a Ravenclaw you're not that bright."
I ignored his comment. I might not be the best at Transfiguration or History of Magic, but I'm quite good at other subjects, like Astrology and Potions. Not that Professor Snape ever gives me good grades, but I think I do quite well. Often other people will vanish my potion though, or steal it for themselves, so I don't normally get marked anyway.
"No I mean my mum on the moon," I replied. Well, I did mean it. I know people say there's a man on the moon, but ever since Mummy died I like to think it's her face up there. My mum on the moon.
"Your mum? Did she go to the moon then?" Draco asked.
"Sort of …" I don't think he needs, or wants, to know the story.
"My great grandfather went to the moon, on his Cleansweep 2000 – they were good in those days. He died from Dragonpox five weeks after though, tragic case."
He had the tone of voice of somebody trying to show off. You can tell he didn't care about his grandfather's death.
"I'm sorry," I replied. Unlike him, I was brought up with manners.
"Yes, well not many people know what it's like to have dead relatives."
He wants you to feel sorry for him. The voice can be an amazing thing at times, but I wasn't fooling for it.
"My mother died when I was nine."
Anything to stop that 'thing' in his voice. That annoying tone. His grandfather may have died but he obviously didn't know what it's like to lose a loved one.
"How can she be on the moon, then? Don't tell me they flew her here on one of those coffin-broom things? So tacky …" he said, wrinkling his nose. It looked rather strange under the white face-paint. I think he was trying to be a vampire or something.
"No, they didn't."
Draco stared at me, confusion showing on his face. He didn't question any further however, but looked me up and down. "Why are you wearing a pillow-case?" he asked.
"I'm being a house-elf for Halloween."
He laughed. "A house-elf? Good grief, Loony, why do you want to be a house-elf?"
I paused. After all, I no longer wanted to be a house-elf.
"Well I didn't think anyone else would be one."
"And that's your reason?" he said, rolling his eyes. "Why not be a fairy like her?" He jerked his head towards the window. He must have meant Ginny.
"I didn't want too – what's fun in being the same as everyone else?" I replied plainly.
Even Draco Malfoy thought it stupid to be a house-elf. Maybe I should be the same as other people for a change. But that's just boring. Why am I the only one to see that?
He surveyed me with those cold grey eyes of his. I didn't like the way he was looking at me.
"You know that game you and your friends play? The one where you're a king and they are your servants?" I asked, staring at him unblinkingly.
He gave me a strange look, eyebrows slightly arched and eyes widened. Either a 'You're crazy' or 'I have no idea what you're on about' look.
"Loony, me and my friends do not 'play'."
What else could it be, if not playing? It's not like he really is a king … unless …
"Draco, do you have royal blood?"
"Could you stop calling me that! You can address me as Mr Malfoy if you must speak to me at all!" he snapped. "And no, not quite royalty, but my family is true pureblood, goes back for generations. I did have an uncle who–"
"Why do you treat your house-mates like servants then?"
"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to interrupt people?" he said, looking rather angry.
Yes, they did Draco, did they not teach you it's rude to call people names? I didn't say it aloud. I've seen him use his wand on people and I don't think it's very pleasant.
Eventually he broke the silence, by saying, "Can you go in now?"
"I'm trembling in my sandals, remember?" I couldn't help saying it. If I wasn't scared of his wand then I would have laughed.
His expression was priceless. He was fuming with rage, but he couldn't do anything about it because he wanted me to go in.
"Just go in! I need you out of my way!"
"Well I would, but I'd like to know what you're doing first."
"Why should I tell you?" he snapped back.
I didn't reply.
He sighed. "If you must know I was delivering some sweets, but I don't want it to look like I came with you."
I paused, considering it, "Well I suppose I can go in then …"
He fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a handful of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, and thrust them into my empty hand. He pushed me out of hiding, and over to the door. "Goodbye, have a jolly day!" he said with fake enthusiasm.
I rested my hand on the door-knob and looked at him. Sadness was in those grey eyes. Probably not because his father died of Dragonpox. Something else, unknown for now.
"Happy Halloween, Draco," I said softly, and turned the door-knob. I was going to intrude on the Weasleys' Halloween.
I could hear Draco walking away. He muttered something that sounded like 'Gulliver' or perhaps it was 'gullible'. I wonder what he meant.
I walked into the house. Mrs Weasley and Charlie were doing the washing up and the others were watching a game of Gobstones between the twins. Nobody noticed I was there.
Suddenly, Ginny let out a loud scream, and pointed at the window, immediately catching everyone's attention.
Draco stood there, pulling a truly horrible face. The white face-paint and the dripping blood effect did make him look like a scary vampire.
"Could you please quiet down Ginevra?" Percy said dully, as Ginny was still screaming.
"I can see why she's screaming; anybody would scream at the sight of that creep," George replied, and then glared at Draco through the glass. "Shove off, Malfoy!"
"How do you know it's Malfoy?" Ron asked, looking at Draco as if he was a particularly ugly vegetable.
The other twin, Fred, grinned. "Nobody can mistake his smirk!"
They all laughed, and Draco pulled a sour face. He turned and raced down the drive, just as MrWeasley and Bill came up it. They came through the front door, and everybody turned our way. I was standing a few steps in front of Arthur and Bill. It was only now I was noticed.
"Ohhello, dearie, you must be Luna!" Mrs Weasley said kindly, but I felt unwanted all the same. She was looking at me, along with the rest of the family. Staring, staring, staring.
Why, oh why did I dress up as a house-elf? I'm weird enough as it is.
Ginny smiled faintly at me, her eyes darting to my Trick-or-Treat bag, made from old copies of The Quibbler stapled together. Ronald stared at me too. I looked down at my sandals, trying not to blush.
Here I was, standing in the Weasleys' kitchen on All Hallows Eve. Surrounded by a happy family, while my own father sat alone. What was I doing there? I should be with him, even if we have to wait to be with Mummy, I don't have to wait to be with Daddy.
I should have just got up and left right then. But I didn't. Something was stopping me, pulling me back. Maybe I couldn't go because I wanted to know what it's like, being with a happy family again. Or maybe it's simply the fact that I know Daddy won't be there.
He'll be sitting at his desk all right, but his mind and heart won't be. He wanted me to be here, having fun. Sadly, I don't think that will happen, but I can always pretend. Daddy likes to know I'm happy.
As promising as that night may have seemed, it did not promise a happy family in my future. I looked out of the open door, up at the moon. "Goodnight, Mummy," I whispered softlyas I took a step forward into The Burrow, leaving my thoughts behind in the dark.
The End
Authors after Notes: Yes, I'm back:P Just wanted to thank Polly, Paul and Phoebe for their ideas. Some of Draco lines were thought up by Polly and the idea of Bill winning the galleons ect, was Paul's. Phoebe, you're too young to understand any of it really, but you did want Ginny to be in it and you did want her to be dressed as a fairy. So, thank you for those ideas and the rest, thank you Lily and Alexandra for beta-reading, and thank you to my regular readers for being so patient. You wouldn't be reading this if you hadn't have helped in a way, big or small. Thank you.
Tabby xxx