1 October 2007
Lorcan Xenophilius Scamander
Lysander Fido Scamander
Lorcan and Lysander were born in a field, not far from their parents' house, precisely on schedule. This was, of course, in accordance with Luna's plans for drawing the attention of a Winged Belleria, a proven good luck charm in the pursuit of a healthy childbirth. After the birth, Luna got rather gingerly to her feet, took one of the babies and kissed the other's forehead as he squirmed in Rolf's arms. They were quite the most wonderful babies she had ever seen.
The baby in Luna's arms blinked up at her, scrutinizing her face intensely, and she laughed.
Lorcan, they called the one with the fierce gaze. And the other…well, the other had a look of pure, blissful adoration.
Luna had once read a Muggle story—something her mother had found—that told of four young lovers, running around in the forest with just the same looks on their faces. Demetrius didn't sound nice with Lorcan, Rolf said. Luna agreed. Lysander, however, was perfect.
From then on, Lorcan had a love for nature, and Lysander simply loved everything beautiful. They spent much of their infancy swinging from Luna's back in a kind of homemade papoose.
Twin Ravenclaws, from glen.
