Chapter Fourteen: Pandora
Somberly, somberly
Linger, lie longer-ly
Grateful our cold memories cry
For the plentiful times that, that
Her eagerly death hath had
Counter-intuitive underride
– "Amenamy," Purity Ring
Still alive through you, love
– "Perth," Bon Iver
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Over the next week, Luna was able to set aside a few free moments to conference with Yancy, filling him in on the duel and Malfoy's proposition for the independent study. He seemed concerned that Riddle had engaged with her so directly, but agreed upon her explanation of the situation that the independent study would likely not do any harm. "But remember," he added in an urgent tone when their time was winding down, "anything Malfoy knows, he'll know too. Be careful what you say to him."
"You don't have to tell me," she replied, the ghost of a grimace on her face. "Thanks, Yancy."
When Saturday came around again, Luna arrived at the agreed-upon time in a disused classroom on the fourth floor. A man she didn't recognise was sitting at a desk in the centre of the room, bespectacled and boyish-faced, although his youthful looks clashed with his greying hair. As soon as she entered, he looked up from the parchment on his desk and stood to greet her.
"Hello there. Miss Lovegood, I presume?" At her uncertain nod, he went on, "Pleased to meet you. Findlay Auerbach." His smile was warm, his voice faintly accented. "I'm a Fringe and Experimental Magics researcher from the Ministry. Mr. Malfoy here" – he inclined his head sideways, and Luna abruptly noticed the silver-haired boy's bizarrely unobtrusive presence in the corner of the room – "has enlisted my temporary assistance in his independent study. So I'm going to be asking you a few questions, and he'll just sit over there and take your answers down, if that's all right." He looked at her closely for a moment as she took the seat across from him, evidently looking for any signs of indecision or unease.
"Why doesn't he ask them himself?" Luna pressed, half-reluctantly, with a glance at the student in question; she was instantly more comfortable with Auerbach than she would have been alone with Malfoy, but the question seemed relevant.
"Legal reasons, I'm afraid," said Auerbach apologetically. "Mr. Malfoy is underage, as are you, and the Ministry's taken an interest in your study. It's just for this once, as long as we're looking at your background. He's not qualified to conduct this kind of interview himself." At the words taken an interest and your background Luna had to force herself not to freeze up, but Auerbach seemed to her to be perfectly businesslike and genuine, so she did her best to relax.
He noticed her discomfort, however. "Don't worry," he assured her. "This isn't an interrogation, and you're free to decline to answer any question you're uncomfortable with. Purely for research purposes." He smiled. "Acceptable?"
Luna smiled involuntarily back, feeling her tension ease. He really was very nice, disarmingly so. It was difficult to remain on edge when he was in the room with her. "Yes, of course."
"Now," began the researcher, pushing up his spectacles, "I wanted to start off with some simple questions about your personal history. Where are you from?"
Luna briefly mulled over the idea of lying, but she didn't see any harm in telling the truth. "Close to Ottery St. Catchpole. It's in Devon."
Auerbach wrote this down — as did Malfoy, she noted out of the corner of her eye. "Any abnormal magical expression as a child, or stronger than usual accidental magic?"
"Not really," she hedged. Her accidental magic had been a little unusual — more empathic and clairvoyant episodes as opposed to telekinetically knocking cooking utensils off countertops or making things vanish — but it wasn't outside the realm of the expected, as far as she knew. Auerbach scrutinised her briefly, then nodded and scribbled on his parchment.
"Any contact with a Class Four or Five magical creature of any kind?"
"No." This was also written down before Auerbach paused and looked back up at her.
"It's my understanding that both your parents are deceased. Is that true?" His eyes were kind. Luna nodded slowly, avoiding the impulse to look for a reaction from Malfoy when his aura spiked into her field of vision. She wasn't sure if his face would show pity or neutrality, but neither seemed preferable.
"What were their occupations?"
She considered this question for a moment. There wasn't any Quibbler in 1943, but she didn't have to mention it by name. "My father was an independent journalist, and my mother was a fringe spellcrafter." Pandora had had access to a research grant from the Ministry, actually, but Luna refrained from mentioning that, as naturally no such grant would show up in any records Auerbach tried to access.
His brows rose. "I see. Do you think your mother's work could have had anything to do with you developing these… abilities?"
Luna opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. "You still don't know how Imperius works, do you?" she blurted in realisation, before she could stop herself. "Your division, I mean. You're still trying to research it."
Auerbach inclined his head in not-disagreement, his lips quirking. "That's correct. All three Unforgivable Curses are highly enigmatic, theoretically speaking. One of the primary areas of interest of my Department." He didn't say the full phrase Department of Mysteries, but the weight he placed on the word made it impossible not to comprehend. Luna's mind flashed back to the shifty research she knew had been going on in the Department in the nineties, and she looked at the man in front of her warily.
"Does this have anything to do with that?" she questioned, trying to keep her voice neutral, though her naturally high tone still made her sound a little accusatory.
He opened his hands. "Trust me, Miss Lovegood, your responses today — not to mention your abilities — will not be used for any kind of nefarious purpose." His voice was gentle, but tinged with tragedy, and she noted for the first time a certain hardness about his bronze-gleaming aura that somehow made her believe that he meant what he was saying. "We're only trying to understand, not to repurpose the Unforgivable Curses in any way. Do you believe me?"
After a moment, she told him that she did.
"Will you tell me about your mother? We can stop whenever you need to."
Luna took a breath, memories washing up in her mind like the sea on sand. She didn't want Riddle to know everything about how her mother had died; she couldn't have said why exactly, just that… he shouldn't. How much had she told Harry about what had happened? And she had trusted Harry.
"She was… experimenting," Luna said at last, speaking slowly. "Like she usually did. It was a project she'd been working on for a while. It went wrong, and she died." She considered adding, that's all, but she didn't want to lay it on too thick.
Auerbach was silent for a moment, and she could see he was debating whether to press the topic further. Finally he settled on, "Did you know the spell's intended use?"
"No," she replied, voice even, eyes meeting his easily. Another slippery silver lie, twining around her head like a snake, but she paid it no heed.
Her efforts were gratified when he sighed and said, "All right. I suppose it's difficult to go any further here, then." He ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his spectacles again before glancing at Malfoy and beginning to pack up his things. "It's unclear to me how much your background might have been a factor in you developing these abilities. Without some insight into what kind of spell your mother was working on, that path is a dead end" — from the apologetic look that flashed into his eyes after the phrase left his mouth, he regretted that choice of words — "and there's not a guarantee that it would tell us anything even if we did know more. Mr. Malfoy, I'm going to end my inquiry here. I'd recommend the two of you look into trying other kinds of will-altering or compulsive type magic on Miss Lovegood, mainly potions — Veritaserum, Amortentia, that sort of thing — and see if her resistance extends past the Imperius. Some further study before you go there, Malfoy, might not go amiss," he added over his shoulder as he rose.
"It was lovely to meet you, Mr. Auerbach," Luna said politely, observing the way his sharp-edged aura flared behind his head like a star. He grinned back at her.
"And you as well, Miss Lovegood. You are a fascinating case, if I may say so. I wish you both the best of luck in your studies." On his way out, he added to her under his breath, "If he starts behaving like a cad, you have every right to abandon the study." Luna hid a smile and gave a tiny, nearly imperceptible nod.
After Auerbach was gone, Malfoy too rose from his seat in the corner. "Very interesting," he said softly, his gaze unfocused. Luna frowned at him, half-expecting to have to fend off more of the repulsive flirtatiousness from last week, but there was nothing in his eyes beyond simple curiosity and calculation. A moment later, he looked at her again. "Is this time every Saturday convenient for you?"
She twisted the ring on her first finger, one her father had given her almost a year ago now. "I suppose so. Where are we going to start next time?"
He inclined his head in thought. "Probably more questions," he admitted, with a brief, neutral look at her. "I know they're likely a little tedious, but I still need to know more about how you experience the Curse so we can see how it measures up to the alternatives, and it might tell us a something about how it works. Does that sound all right to you?" It was impossible to tell from his tone if her response would make any difference.
All the same, she answered with a slightly distant, "Yes," and, "I'll see you in a week, then."
He nodded. "Until then, Miss Lovegood."
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An hour later, Luna was sitting with Perpetua by a window in a first-floor corridor as the two of them watched the rain.
"How do you think it's going to play out?" Perpetua asked, her eyes on the heavy grey sky outside. "The study, I mean." She glanced at Luna, who shook her head.
"I really don't know. It might end up being helpful, it might not. Given that I didn't really trust Malfoy enough to be completely honest today, I'm not sure that taking on the study with him was the right move, but I suppose there's no harm in going on with it."
The other girl frowned quizzically. "Trust him? How do you mean?"
Luna tapped her fingers on the window pane. She still hadn't told Perpetua about her ongoing cold war with Riddle. "The questions were — a little too personal." She inhaled a little more sharply than she'd intended, and then said, "They were about my mother."
"Oh," said Perpetua softly. She looked conflicted, but then asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't know. I suppose." Luna sighed. "My mum was a spellcrafter, you know?" She looked up, seeking confirmation, and Perpetua nodded. "She was working on dimensional rifting."
Perpetua's eyes went wide. "Really. She must have been very clever."
Luna nodded, a little miserably. "As far as I know, to this day, there hasn't been a dimensional rifting spell approved for use by the Ministry. They're all too unstable, and my mother's was no exception — she wanted to find a way to tie a rift to spatiotemporal numerical identity."
Perpetua clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, no! Oh, but that's so brilliant — for timeline jumping?"
Luna gave a small, watery smile, her vision blurring. "Yes. The spell failed, though. It ripped holes all through her body, and she bled out in twenty minutes."
Perpetua scooted across the sill to hug her. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled into Luna's shoulder. Luna buried her face in Perpetua's tangle of red hair for a moment, blinking back her tears, and then sniffed and drew away.
"It's okay. It was a long time ago." But Perpetua was still frowning. Taking a guess, Luna asked, "What's your mother like?"
It was Perpetua's turn to blink rapidly, and laugh a little. "She's an inventor, too. Very clever, just like your mum. But she's never been much of a mother to me, for all she named me after herself." Her smile turned bitter. "I don't know. I've never really been able to figure her out."
Luna grimaced commiseratively. "I know what that's like. That's how I feel about… most people." It was something she'd come to realise over the course of several years. She could recognise things about them from a distance, very clearly as it turned out, but when it came down to actually talking to people — well. Most of her friends weren't put off her strangeness and allowed her to fit in, but if they didn't, she wouldn't. Not easily, anyway.
Perpetua laughed again now, genuinely, slapping Luna lightly on the arm. "Don't say that! You seem to understand me well enough."
"But you're special," Luna admitted unthinkingly. Like Harry. Perpetua smiled at her again, a little shyly, but a moment later her smile slipped.
"Special," she echoed. "I keep hearing that word."
Luna just watched her, waiting for her to elaborate.
Perpetua met her eyes briefly, then took a deep, heavy breath and stared out the window again. "I don't know. It makes me think of what happened last year. They were the opposite of special, you know? All perfectly ordinary. But they were the last people who would've deserved what happened."
"Who?" asked Luna, baffled, but with a creeping sense that she wouldn't want to hear what her friend was about to say.
Perpetua looked at her, shocked. "Didn't you know? Nobody told you?" At Luna's shake of her head, she covered her mouth with her fist and huffed out another deep breath before meeting Luna's eyes again. "Last year, three students were found dead."
Luna blinked, her mind suddenly racing back to that night just over two weeks ago, at the start of term. She'd heard the other Slytherin girls talking about something of the kind, hadn't she? How could she have possibly forgotten?
"Two fourth-year boys," Perpetua went on quietly, "and a girl. Michael Parish, Jonathan Quinn, and Myrtle Warren. They all died under mysterious circumstances, here at Hogwarts. Dippet was talking about shutting down the school."
"What happened?" inquired Luna numbly, but Perpetua shook her head, her curls falling over her shoulder.
"Nobody really knows. It was like they just — dropped dead. Parish and Quinn were in one of the hallways on the second floor, and Warren was in the bathroom." She was silent for a moment. "Parish and Quinn were best friends. A Slytherin and a Hufflepuff, both Muggle-born. They were like brothers, as far as anybody could tell. Always laughing, always so kind to each other.
"I was never sure that it was… really an accident, with Warren. I knew her, you see — she was a Ravenclaw. She'd been bullied rather horribly by this sixth year Olive Hornby, who just transferred out at the end of last term. Warren was so shy, and she seemed so miserable — I thought maybe… Well, there are supposed to be safeguards against — that sort of thing. In the school. But there must be ways to get around them, and she was clever." Perpetua began to cry. "I keep thinking that I should have done something. I could have helped her."
"You don't know that," Luna reminded her dully, her voice soft. "and anyway, it isn't your fault. You needn't feel guilty." If the other girl noticed the peculiar emphasis, she gave no sign of it.
So, there it was. Riddle was a killer already. And if he'd already killed Myrtle Warren, that meant he had murdered his father and grandparents over the summer as well. Why hadn't she come back the previous year, again? Why 1943? Ron's voice echoed in her head —you picked this year because it's the year he's your age…
Luna stifled a sob in her elbow, hoping the still-teary Perpetua wouldn't notice. She might as well have killed those students herself. It wasn't my fault. I didn't know…
But she knew she could have.
Tomorrow was Hermione's birthday. What would Hermione do? She would fix it, solve the problem.
This isn't over. I can still do it. She hugged Perpetua tighter.
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A/N: Hi guys! Sorry about the wait on this one, it's been a tough semester. I know this chapter is a little shorter than usual, but I hope it was still enjoyable. We're about halfway through our first story arc at this point, so I'd say maybe seven or so more chapters before we start winding down this one and move on to the second phase of the story. Thanks for sticking with me & don't forget to leave a comment and let me know your thoughts! :)
(I know this scene probably feels a little similar to one we had a few chapters ago: the stakes go up, Luna feels the urgency of the situation and resolves to do her job... but for some reason, when the rubber hits the road, she just can't bring herself to do it. Looks like our boy isn't the only one not emotionally ready for a bumpy redemption arc, huh?) xo shai