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Acknowledgment: the author SlyGodess had Luna sing a song about plimplies which I stole word for word in this chapter. It's a female Harry story called 'A Butterfly Effect'
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An Old and New World
by Lens of Sanity
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Chapter Fourteen: You... Have Silver Eyes
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Having friends die sucked.
Having a funeral for a friend dying sucked more. Funerals sucked in a different way, but they did suck far more. It must have had something to do with gathering a group of people together for the express purpose of acknowledging that someone had died. Her mother Selene Lovegood had died when she was nine, and she had reluctantly attended to that funeral too. Suffice it to say that event had sucked.
Luna did not like funerals.
They had been gathered around the cemetery not far from the War Memorial in Godric's Hollow and Harry was to be buried right next to his parents, whose graves her friend had admitted to having never visited. There had been a long procession of inane comments from a number of people who, let's face it, probably hadn't ever even metHarry. And yet the politics surrounding the situation gave a number of people the opportunity to hear themselves talk, at great length, while in front of a "captive" audience.
Riddle had taken charge after it had happened. The group had been back aboard the airship and spiriting across North America, and later the North Atlantic, before the body had even gotten cold. Poor Bellatrix had been quite brutally stunned during most of the trip, not only for their safety, but her own.
That was a fortnight ago, now Luna was sitting in Godric's Hollow wearing her bright yellow sundress, dispassionately watching the crowd. Seated alone, and without the support of her family, Fleur Delacour was crying. A fact which really shouldn't have been all that surprising to the blonde. Luna had gotten her first opportunity to interact with the French woman on the four day crossing over to the States, and had come to a conclusion regarding the woman's character that would infuriate her should it ever be voiced:
Fleur and Harry were essentially the same person.
Tell the Veela girl that to her face and she would be liable to start tossing curses at you, but in Luna's opinion it was quite an accurate description. For different reasons and in different ways the two were totally off their heads, both spew tremendous quantities of manticore shit at anybody and everybody they interact with, and experience a lifestyle so disconnected from the rest of the world as to be entirely abstracted from the lives lived by those who would otherwise be peers.
So to see the woman openly grieving at Harry's memorial service shouldn't be all that surprising.
The others were all behaving as expected; Hermione, Riddle, Sirius Black, and Headmaster Dumbledore, all acting pretty much as you'd imagine. Bellatrix had been in terrible shape at the loss of her friend but had ended up cresting that into a listless state of numb shock, only really coming out of it when the redhead "Tamsyn" occasionally attempted to look after her.
At the first opportunity to get away Luna stalked out, letting loose a loud crack of apparition.
Funerals sucked. Luna friggin' well hated funerals.
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Arriving by Knight Bus to the part wizarding village of Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon, Hermione thanked the conductor absently and took off in search of the missing blonde girl. She would have preferred to utilise her recently acquired license and apparate to the location. Unfortunately she had never visited before, and she didn't trust her understanding of the whereabouts well enough to risk a jump.
It briefly occurred to Hermione that one of her friends from first year lived in the same town, but as she'd never been invited over she didn't know the coordinates for that location either.
The brunette knew she was not acting in the most intelligent way coming here on her own, but since The Event had happened, all the adults in her life had gone back to treating her like a child. A situation Hermione found maddening in the extreme, due to the implication that her thoughts and ideas were listened to, not based on merit, but because she was one of Harry's friends. With him now dead it was like she had been stuffed back in with the other students, and labelled 'just another clever little child.'
So out of spite she had ignored everyone's advice and gone in search of Luna by herself, despite the standing danger posed by travelling alone while the British magical community was in a state of civil war.
As she closed on the small lake, Hermione heard the indistinct noises of her target drifting on the wind well before she got close enough to lay eyes on the odd girl herself, Luna having been missing for two days, ever since the end of her first friend's funeral. Eventually Hermione realised she was listening to a strange song:
Oh a plimpy one or two or three,
A plimpy I would like to see.
A plimpy small and lightning quick,
I'll catch a plimpy with my stick!
Long blonde hair falling to her lower back, the girl was singing the jaunty tune and waving a long tree branch back and forward as she looked across the water.
"There you are Luna." began Hermione, a gentle but carrying voice blatantly ignored by the blonde. "You have been missed. We were all starting to get worried about you."
Ohhhh a plimpy is slippery and often wet;
You'll never catch one with that net!
A plimpy stew is mild and sweet;
A plimpy stew just can't be beat!
"Luna please look at me," Hermione spoke softly, approaching the younger girl with caution, "there are no such things as plimpies. Aren't you ready to come back to the castle?"
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh a plimpy one or two or three,
Plimpies come and play with me.
So raise your stick and sing along
to my spiffy plimpy caaaatchiiiiiing soooooooooooonnng!
SMACK! Hermione had attempted to interrupt her song near the end. She really shouldn't have grabbed the girl's arm because Luna span round and cracked the older girl across the face with all of her might, breaking the stick and knocking Hermione to the ground.
With such a look of anger and hatred on her usually placid face, Luna looked down at her. Nobody had ever looked at her with such unrestrained malice before, and Hermione knew for the first time what it was like to have another person hate her personally.
"Why are you here you stupid little girl?" was the question directed at her from behind focused eyes holding no regret.
Suddenly Hermione didn't even know.
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A week before they were scheduled to take a maiden voyage on the, as yet unnamed Zeppelin, Luna was exiting the Headmaster's Office, leaving the wise old man with a feeling of having missed something important during his discussion with the quirky young woman.
As Dumbledore went in search of a pain relieving potion to treat his unanticipated headache, Luna was skipping toward the Room of Requirement in high spirits. Her life had been on a definite upswing over the last year and a half, ever since she had recognised Harry following his incarceration in Azkaban as being someone else who saw the world as it really was.
When a person suddenly started seeing the world's insanity for what it really was, they did begin to act a little strange, but it was nice to be able to do so with a friend; which was exactly what Harry had turned out to be, and the reason her life was currently so much fun.
The room was appearing as if it were a cavernous expanse of jagged rocks and precious stones for some reason, implying that Harry had gotten bored with using the same rooms over and over, so had opted for someplace different and unusual. He was lounging around with Bella and appeared to be tossing chunks of his lunch across the room and attempting to wandlessly transfigure them into various animals.
"Do you have any control over which animal they transform into?" asked Luna.
Harry just shook his head. "It seems to be mostly subconscious, but the size tends to be determined by power and whether or not I'm trying an organic to organic transfiguration." He mused before looking over at the blonde. "Any luck on your Runic Array?"
"None at all," she informed cheerfully, "although I am getting the impression that the haiku has something to do with the Lost City of Atlantis."
Bellatrix wandered off as the two got into a discussion about magical theory, after a time Hermione strolled in, "and you pair that with the Lyapunov–Malkin stability theorem..." spotting the fifth year walking beside the redhead, Luna switched topics without missing a beat, "...of Flumpawump Evacuation. An important part of any person's daily ablutions as you well know."
"What are you two talking about?" Hermione asked, a slight frown gracing her brow.
"Flumpawumps." Harry replied. "Dealing with the damn things can be pretty distracting but Luna's right, leaving them where they are is plain unhealthy."
Tam shook her head and left the room in search of Bellatrix, while Hermione went on a long rant about non-existent creatures. Eventually the blonde voiced a total non sequitur throwing her through a loop. "You seem tense, when was the last time you had sex with Harry?"
"What?" Hermione spluttered, her eyes bulging a little. "I've never... We're just friends Luna."
"What does that have to with anything? Harry and I are friends, yet we have sex all the time." The older girl couldn't respond to this in any kind of intelligent way, and Luna's jaw dropped open in feigned realisation. "You mean to tell me that you have joined Harry's dark harem, but you haven't taken advantage of all the free sex?"
"I HAVE NOT JOINED A DARK HAREM!" Hermione screamed in outrage.
"Of course you have. Do you really think it's a coincidence that, Sirius aside, all the members of our Dark Army are hot girls?"
With a final screech the bushy haired girl span and legged it from the Room of Requirement, having completely forgotten what she had been meaning to do that evening. And as soon as the door swung shut behind her Harry let out a full belly laugh.
"Do you think she's ever going to figure out you're just messing with her?" he asked.
Wrinkling her nose Luna responded, "This from the guy who held a loud conversation where he could be overheard, talking about how his airship was going run on Orphan's Blood Biodiesel."
"Come on, it's cheap and renewable. How could Hermione come to the conclusion that I'm going evil if I'm so concerned about the environment?" Luna stuck out her tongue. "You know, maybe one day I'll just tell her that a Crumple‑Horned Snorkack is a silly sounding name for a cousin species of Unicorn which is thought to be extinct."
"Snorkacks did occasionally kill and eat the people they found, but do you honestly believe that telling her would be enough of a hint though?" she asked. "I mean, we go to a school of magic, Britain's national sport is played flying around on line segments, and the poor girl still thinks these things are anything but crazy."
"I still like her though" stated Harry.
"Yeah, me too." Luna admitted. "Even if she can be a bit patronising sometimes and I have to fight the urge to strangle her."
Luna Lovegood's life was pretty sweet as had been said, she had even managed to scam the Headmaster into allowing her to re-print 'The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Pirates' as a present for Harry and his upcoming expedition to the New World.
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Looking down at the sixteen year old muggleborn, Luna had to brutally suppress a wave of remorse as she noted the darkening bruise right across the girl's cheek. She carelessly tossed the shattered branch over her shoulder.
"Why are you here you stupid little girl?" The jaw of the girl in question dropped open but she didn't make a sound. "Just leave me alone Hermione. I have neither the time nor inclination to put up with your idiocy today."
She stalked off in search of another plimpy stick, leaving the other girl on the deck. To her credit Hermione did not immediately leave, and after a time caught up with the blonde. "What happened to you Luna?" She didn't answer. "What have I done to deserve being attacked, I was just worried about you after you went missing."
"You haven't done anything new Hermione. You are simply a narrow minded fool just like everyone else." Luna took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I should not be taking this out on you ... It is going to be strange not having anyone sane to talk to anymore."
Feeling quite insulted and more than a little confused Hermione asked, "I don't understand?"
"Yes. That I can well believe." Luna chuckled a little. "You do not even see the perverse nature of having a man who murdered one of my closest friends walking around Hogwarts as if he owns the place."
"W-what? Who?"
"The redhead you have been so smitten with, Tom Riddle." Silver eyes gazed over the water in the direction of her lost friend's old ramshackle home. "Ginny Weasley was great you know, I am aware that you never really knew her, but she was funny and intelligent. We used to play such silly little games when we were younger, and yet she was murdered and the man responsible suffered no punishment at all."
"Tam isn't that bad, you heard the circumstances yourself, it was Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy who were mostly responsible," Hermione protested, "and Headmaster Dumbledore trusts her."
"Yes Dumbledore, such a bright shining beacon of goodness that man is, but we were talking about 'Tamsyn' who, by the way, was named the feminine by Harry to annoy him." Spying a small round fish with two legs ending in webbed feet, Luna brought down her stick with a sharp crack, catching the non-existent creature unawares. "You know that Illusion our mighty Heir of Slytherin is so proud of?"
Hermione was about to speak but instead simply nodded.
"I did some research and the thing is sort of ominous in its implications. It is called a Shadow's Masquerade. One part visual glamour, one part confusion ward, and a wide area application of a Legilimency branch titled 'suggestion,' which kind of makes all the unsuspecting people hit by it less inclined to pay close attention to her appearance."
"That sounds quite effective, you said it was ominous?"
"Having someone who has only studied for seven years at Hogwarts capable of commanding such magic is not a good sign. I hope I am wrong, but without Harry there is a real chance that we have yet another Dark Lord to deal with."
Hermione moved over to the younger girl and set about inspecting the strange, and apparently very real, plimply she had caught. "Harry wasn't your only friend at Hogwarts you know."
Resting her head on the other girls shoulder Luna did not reply.
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The following two months passed in tedious monotony. Sirius was drinking far more than could be considered healthy, but it was chalked up to him having pretty much no real friends left; Peter having betrayed him, James having been killed by Voldemort, Remus by Snape, and now Harry by his own bloody stupidity and overconfidence.
He got out of bed with a throbbing migraine, and excused himself from the well put together apartment presumably owned by Sarah? Sally? whatever the hell her name was... making his way back to Grimmauld Place.
It was an incredibly good building in which to mope.
Hermione had been spending more time with Luna, studying for her OWLs mostly, but with the two of them keeping an ear open regarding news of the war. The surprising recovery of Gilderoy Lockheart and his subsequent activities toward the new 'emilies' was suspicious enough, and hearing of how Amelia Bones, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, had signed off on him leading the forces just hammered nails into the man's coffin.
Yet when the two got permission to meet with the Headmaster they were informed that; Yes, Professor Snape had reported that the man was spending his free time in what was now being called 'the City of the Dead,' and was being addressed by senior Death Eaters as Salasar. So their insight was basically of no help at all, and a sudden burst of competence from the fraud of a man had not gone unnoticed by their side of the conflict.
Tamsyn and Bellatrix had nigh on vanished off the face of the earth, but as they did occasionally show up at mealtimes, Luna's fears seemed to be mostly unfounded. In all probability the two were focusing on their efforts improving Tam's increasing familiarity with the Dark Arts, as well as making improvements to Caerbannog which the redhead had mostly taken possession of in Harry's absence. At least spending most of her time with Tam gave Bella something to occupy her mind, and thereby not go on a one woman rampage in an attempt to track down her nephew then cut him into tiny little pieces.
As she had repeatedly promised to do.
Many, many times.
Strangely enough Harry's book The Baited Basilisk had been first on the top ten list ever since Rita Skeeter had released the thing, and appeared as though it might have actually made Harry a millionaire after all. Hermione didn't remember ever being kidnapped by lesbian werewolves, but if the experience was anywhere near as enjoyable as her fictional counterpart seemed to find it... anyway, that was unimportant.
They had seen Tonks a few times over the last eight weeks and she informed the teens that the Order had joined battle with several groups of Death Eaters, but the Dark Lord seemed to be laying low for the moment and had not been spotted taking part in any fighting at all. Although the Godric Founder had been chased off by Headmaster Dumbledore personally during an attempted assault on the Potter's graveyard.
"Why does it feel like it's already over?" Hermione asked the younger girl.
Luna shook her head. "I don't know. But I understand precisely what you mean." Shrugging off the bad feeling she cheerfully asked, "So you are writing an article about how to get around Gamp's first law of elemental transfiguration?"
Eyes lighting up Hermione started talking about one of her favourite subjects. "Yes, it is fascinating. I got the idea when I realised how strictly the law defines 'food,' you see all you need to do is..."
Bleak thoughts firmly behind them the two continued on their walk to the library.
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Getting aboard what Harry had decided to give the ludicrous name of Caravel Caerbannog had always been a challenge. One could not realistically apparate to it, as the transient nature of its location made knowing the correct coordinates of one's destination a matter of great frustration. Using a broom as a method of entry was quite acceptable for the most part, only Tamsyn hated broomstick riding, always had and always would. So it was down to her to finagle a method of ingress which was both efficient and dignified.
And being the genius that she was, Tam had come through with flying colours. A dedicated forty‑nine mile portkey, whose destination was mounted not to a location fixed to the earth, as all other portkey's in history had been, but a destination quantified by a similarly dedicated Rune Stone. Tam was quite proud of her solution given that nobody else had ever accomplished such a feat, and now would be able to come aboard what she was traitorously beginning to think of as her airship, regardless of where the thing happened to actually be parked.
"I am going to have to trap the living daylights out of the atrium at some point." She idly mused, easily lifting the forty kilogram Rune Stone into position one handed.
Tam had recently conducted the same strengthening ritual she remembered doing in sixth year, while only a little shaky on the ethics front, the thing did require a strong stomach, but was not really evil. Amusingly enough the most difficult part in setting it up had been the same for Tam as it had been for Voldemort; acquiring enough gold to purchase the raw materials. She remembered the effort she had gone to originally in order to have Lestrange float her the cash, and had been forced to do something similar with Sirius Black.
Nevertheless it had been successful and her body, while surprisingly strong despite the slight of build, was now back to a more manageable vigour. It was highly unusual but thinking back to her past life, Tam now remembered the events as if she were wearing the body of a pretty redheaded young woman, which of course made some of the memories quite bizarre indeed; Cynthia Hamilton and Augusta Sinclair for instance, Tam reflected in amusement.
She made her way back to her room and set about dressing in a hodgepodge set of Battle Robes for this afternoon's expedition with the Order of the Phoenix. Sheathing her Unicorn hilt dagger, the creature had already been dead and she hadn't been the one who killed it, so best not let it go to waste, Tam felt her choices over the past few months to be quite freeing.
Among a number of changes she had made was the firm decision that she would not become like Voldemort, regardless of the cost. And to that end Tam had concluded that the date of her birth was to be the 29th of May 1993, a mostly symbolic distinction which disidentified her from her other self, whose birthday landed on New Year's Eve.
So here she was three years old, in the body of an almost fifteen year old, and with memories totalling roughly twenty two years; when taking into account past, present, future, and time spent conversing with a prepubescent child whilst trapped in an enchanted Diary. And for the first time, in all of that time, she had chosen a side. Tam would likely never be one of those 'die for the cause' types, but she was here, and she was fighting.
Tamsyn Riddle was the real Heir of Slytherin.
She would win this war and the world would know it to be true.
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Luna was walking side by side with Hermione as the pair went to pick up a late dinner from the kitchens. This was something the older girl liked to do on occasion, as it gave her the opportunity to meet the elves face to face, and let them know how much she appreciated all the work they did around the castle. There was a reason Mistress Grangy was their favourite student after all.
Snacking lightly the two made their way across corridors and up flights of stairs. They were once again discussing the ridiculous biography Harry had commissioned not long before he died, with Hermione still not quite understanding how the Evil History Professor, Septimus Snake, had such a devoted following amongst a certain section of the fanbase, despite being a parody and having a glaring lack of any positive characteristics at all.
After a time the two overheard a gaggle of fourth year girls singing a little chant they had presumably picked up some place or other. And as the last line was uttered, a horrible, ear splitting wail of agony was released from the shorter blonde girl. The howling went on and on, and blood began pouring from her mouth, ears, and tear ducts. Not a moment later her eyes popped and chunks of flesh spattered across the walls of the hallway, then there was nothing. Nothing at all bar silence.
Standing naked as the day she was born was a tall attractive woman, seemingly unconcerned about her state of undress or the fact she was scanning the area with face, back, and full perky chest all smeared in the blood and guts of a teenager she had just murdered. The strange figure ran her fingers through her hair steadily a few times, removing gobbets of grey flesh and splattering them to the floor with distain.
Taking in the terrified fourth years, the woman began to move both her hands in a complex pattern of gestures, shooting out a wraith of grey-black energy which crawled through the fourth year girls' eyeballs, and caused the group to drop to the floor unconscious.
An attack on her fellow students snapped Hermione to full awareness and she pointed her vinewood wand at the enemy. Who raised her eyebrow and spoke in a soft, confident tone:
"Stand down Hermione. That was nothing more than a memory modifier, please relax."
"W-what? Who are you?" demanded Hermione.
"Why I am Luna Lovegood of course." The woman replied with a slightly sardonic smile on her face. "Now, would I be correct in assuming it to be the evening of June the eighteenth 1996?"
Hermione managed a small nod.
"Excellent, would you be so kind as to assist my acquisition of a Time‑Turner? Today is the day of the Holy Forest Massacre, and I would greatly appreciate any help in preventing such an event from happening again."