Hello Dear Readers,

So I wrote this a little differently than the others. It's Luna and her father, not Rolf and Luna which is kinda the point of this, but I was really enjoying developing Luna's character, so I did. I hope you guys enjoy.

Anywho, this drabble is 759 words long. And uses the prompt Xenophilius Lovegood from the Quidditch Pitch and "Life is what happens to you while you're making other plans." - John Lenon from the Drabble Club (which Xenophilius says during the this, but I by no means claim to own those words).

Hoots, Owls

Luna took a deep breath and sighed, pulling her arms tighter around herself. The soft fabric of her dressing gowned giving her comfort as she walked into her kitchen where her father was sitting, back to her and looking out the window at the moon.

"It's such a lovely night," he murmured as she pulled out a chair to sit across from him. His eyes were rimmed red and large bags sat heavily underneath them. Their youthful luster was gone, leaving behind a dead-ness that broke Luna's heart.

"Do you want some tea?" She asked into the chilled, early morning air. "Hermione told me about a new kind, that I think you'll like." Luna let a smile slip onto her face, hoping that he would respond in a somewhat logical manner.

"Your mother always loved to watch the stars." Xenophilius sighed and a few tendrils of his straggly white beard moved with it. "She was so beautiful. Just like you."

Luna bit her lip and stood up. "I'll make you some tea," she told him, knowing no logical response was coming. The father she once knew was gone and trying to get him back was no use. That's what the healers told her anyway.

"Your mother would have loved you so much, Luna." She shivered her back away from him. "You traveled the world; you've made something of yourself. That's all she ever wanted. It's what we wanted."

"How much sugar do you want, father?" Luna tried again, looking through the mess of a kitchen for the sugar, as the kettle started to whistle.

"I want you to know she loves you."

The blonde glanced back: her father's milky eyes watching the window, still, and his face was virtually unmoved except for his tear-stained cheeks.

"I know," she whispered. "You tell me every night."

Luna started to pour the tea into two mismatching cups. "I'm afraid we're out of milk. I'll get some tomorrow." She set the cup and saucer in front of the old man, but there was no response.

"I'm leaving for Brazil tomorrow," she added. "The Healer Jeffry will be around a few times a day to check on you as well as Julia, the new editor for The Quibbler. Jeffry is a little odd, but Julia is okay. She always carries around a clipboard: it makes people trust her."

Her father said nothing. Her father did nothing. Her father just sat there and stared out the window at the moon.

Luna hummed, taking her time to drink her tea and calm down. "I hope you'll be okay without me."

Then, he reached out a wrinkled spotted hand with long fingernails, gripping her own hand. His fingers were cold and didn't feel completely alive.

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." He told her.

Luna started crying. Her tears were silver with the reflection of the moon on her cheeks. His wrinkled hand swept a few droplets away and remaining on her cheek. She clutched his hand, leaving it on her cheek, feeling warmth in his cold fingers and his milky eyes and thinning white hair. For a moment she saw him, her father, the man who was strong for her. He was the man who later lent her his strength and who now was relying on hers. She didn't want to fail him. She didn't want to leave him. But, time was moving quickly for both of them.

"I love you," Luna murmured.

"I love you too."

OoOoO

"Long night?" Jeffry asked the next morning, a hand on his hip and an eyebrow raised. Luna was standing in the living room looking at herself in the glass while she pulled her hair up into a ponytail and tugged on her jacket simultaneously.

"What makes you say that?" Luna tilted her head, buckling her moth-bitten navy blue jacket from her school days.

"Your eyes are rimmed red and there are sizable bags; not to mention, that outfit of yours does not match- and aren't you going somewhere? Where's your language?" The man shot off in a single breath.

"They're upstairs." Luna run back up the spiral staircase, coming back down with a small suitcase for her eight months research trip to the Amazon Rainforest.

"Goodbye, father," she said, kissing her father as she passed his usual seat in the kitchen. The man only waved back.

"You better owl me any of gossip, if there is any-" Jeffry started to shout as threw the floo powder down, headed to meet her team.