Disclaimer

Hey guys, guess what. I don't own Harry Potter!

Chapter One

'Intending to Burn

Pretending to fight it

Everyone Learns

Faster on fire

Things to a turn

Lost all desire

You live and you burn'

'Burn' by Alkaline Trio

Thinking of her hurt. She would never tell anyone, of course, but the knives that burrowed inside her heart every time she thought of her mother truly hurt. She missed her so much.

I'm so much like her. She thought as her fingers brushed lightly over the ivory keys of her piano. The melancholic tune she subconsciously played neither matched nor soothed her mood. Her mother had been an excellent pianist.

'If you believe, truly believe, you will never fail.' She couldn't help but wonder what she had done to contradict her mother's words as she had. Her mother had always been right, always, but now her words had seemingly fallen flat. Her mother had failed her?

No, she had failed her mother. No matter how many times she thought it through, she always came to the same conclusion. She simply wasn't all that her mother had expected her to be.

She had failed in the worst way. She had failed in a way that could possibly condemn an entire society. She had failed in a way that threatened the very existence of magic.

That was why she sat in her destroyed and scattered office, silent tears dripping onto the old piano in the corner. Papers filled with scribbled notes drifted down around her, adding to the clutter. Bits of ash clung to her face and hair, giving her an almost-dead appearance.

"Professor?" The young woman looked up, her joyous tune abruptly ending. A young boy, barely eleven, stood in her doorway, a lost look upon his face. His ruffled blonde hair was matted with dried blood, his hazel eyes misted over.

"The Department of Mysteries has been attacked," Eighteen-Year-Old Luna Anna Lovegood put one pale hand on the young boy's shoulder. "And we managed to lose the most important thing of all."

"No, Professor," The young boy looked calmly up at Luna. "We didn't lose you."

If anything, that much was true. Luna smiled and sent the boy to search for any remaining research, just as another woman about her age with long, flaming red hair walked briskly up to her. Ginny Weasley, unlike the others Luna had seen, was not covered in blood; in fact, she was coated from head to foot in thick, black slime.

"Your notes?" Luna could see her best friends hopeful expression, even through the grime.

"Gone" The shoulders of both girls sagged visibly. "What wasn't taken was burned."

"How original." The dry sarcasm in Ginny's voice sent quiet tendrils of shock through Luna's mind. Ginny didn't joke in hard situations. A million thoughts ran through Luna's mind, ending only in reminiscences of her utter failure. Her research was classified for very good reason, now it was gone.

"It could have been predicted, yes." Luna's gaze fell back to her piano. She lightly brushed away the coating of ash that had settled on the keys with her fingertips. When she finally looked back up to meet her friend's gaze, her eyes were coated with a thin film of unshed tears. "My research is directly linked."

"Let's go, Luna." Ginny lightly put her hand on the young woman's back in a comforting gesture. Her own eyes filled with tears at the thought of what all this could mean. "We can leave clean-up to others. I think our duties lie at the scene.

-;-'

Harry James Potter had seen more than enough in his nineteen years of life, but seeing the old musician lying amidst scattered sheets of music, eyes open and vacant, blood trickling slowly out of his hanging mouth killed him inside.

Perhaps the most troubling aspect of the man's death, however, was the complete lack of reason. They could find neither scratch nor contusion on the old man's body. The blood leaking out of his mouth had absolutely no source. He had simply died.

From old age? Harry thought not. Signs of a struggle were written throughout the house as clearly as the notes on paper. Blast marks on the walls told of spells that never reached their target, or rather, were never even meant to.

Harry was drawn from his position next to the dead man by a light rapping at the door. Knock twice and enter, perhaps it was a rule, because whoever it was didn't wait for him to answer.

"Has anything been moved?" A light dreamy voice called from the living room. Harry whipped around the corner to find himself face-to-face with an old school friend. Luna smiled nonchalantly up at him, looking for the entire world as if she was taking a stroll in the park.

"Um, no, not that I know of." Harry straightened his tie and smoothed out his suit. He had no idea what business Luna Lovegood had at the scene of a crime, but he was certain that he would be professional and find out. "What are you doing here, Luna?"

"Oh, investigating." Harry had to restrain himself from hitting himself upon hearing the condescending tone in her voice. "Crime scenes are very common meeting places for the Two-Toothed Trouble Tramper."

"Luna this isn't. . ."

"Oh, I know, Harry." She interrupted him, giving him another absent smile. Harry stiffened as she pulled a crumpled paper out of her pocket, handing it over to him. It was a letter from the Minister of Magic himself, relieving him of his duties at the scene. "I believe I can take it from here, Mr. Potter."

"But. . ." Harry looked incredulously at his old friend, studying her dreamy expression with great intensity. He was an Auror; it was his job to investigate mysterious deaths. It was his job to track down whoever had caused it in the first place. Luna Lovegood was not an Auror, why the hell was she taking over his investigation.

"Don't worry, Harry, you're not completely off the case." She touched his arm lightly, leading him to the front door. "There will be plenty more to see, I'm afraid. For now, however, I really need you to leave."

Harry shuffled angrily out the front door, stopping only briefly to look back on Luna as she slowly resumed what he had started. He would get to the bottom of this; he was Harry Potter after all.

-;-'

A sigh of relief escaped Luna's lips as she watched Harry apparate back to wherever Auror Headquarters were. This made her job a lot easier. There would be some other time, possibly very soon, to explain to the young man what was happening.

She made her way into the office where the man's body lay, leaning down to check his body over. She didn't need much more confirmation than she already had; the real purpose of her visit was simply to verify reports. The vacant expression in his dead eyes was all the verification she needed.

She walked slowly out the back door, the nonchalant expression on her face replaced by one of sad determination. She examined the old manor one last time before pointing her wand at the open bedroom window and setting the entire thing aflame.

A final tear wound it's way down her cheek as the sounds of popping and splitting wood filled the air. In the office, the old man's body slowly disintegrated. Unspeakables left no evidence, not even bodies, and Luna Anne Lovegood was no exception.

- - -

A/N- First off, I TOLD YOU SO! I cannot rush writing, it takes forever, because I need inspirations.

Second of all, screw the freaking Epilogue. The Epilogue sucks. . . . . .that is all.