KEYnote: Xeno's back story is more for my own amusement the being super plot relevant. If you get it, I hope you enjoy it. If you haven't gotten that this time travel and alternate universe not consistent with canon, I cannot help you.

P.S. We pick up back with the plot in the next chapter :D

Chapter 24 - The Despair We Cling To

Harry was way too nervous about Luna coming over for Christmas dinner.

Well, nervous, about whether she would like his gift or not.

As well as making a good impression on her father.

Helping Malcolm set up for dinner kept him from losing his mind.

He compulsively found himself glancing out the windows.

His father caught his gaze over the rim of his mug of hot chocolate.

Harry felt his cheeks heat about being so obvious.

James smiled, then quoted. "He kept glancing out

How countlessly they congregate

O'er our tumultuous snow,

Which flows in shapes as tall as trees

When wintry winds do blow!-"

"James, I will gag you," Sirius called, from the sofa where he was comparing notes with Minerva.

Because despite himself, Sirius was secretly a nerd and jumping on the chance to discuss theory with their resident Transfiguration professor.

James ignored him as he continued to quote poetry, "As if with keenness for our fate,

Our faltering few steps on

To white rest, and a place of rest

Invisible at dawn,-"

Minerva sighed, looking at Sirius as she asked, "Would you like a fresh sock, Mr. Black?"

James stuck his tongue out at them before continuing, "And yet with neither love nor hate,

Those stars like some snow-white

Minerva's snow-white marble eyes

Without the gift of sight."

"I am not a statue," Minerva said flatly.

"That's not the point of the poem," James argued.

"Yeah, Prongs?" Sirius asked. "Enlighten us on the 'point of the poem'."

James huffed, "It's about the beauty of winter and appreciating—"

"Sap," Sirius teased.

"Brat," James called back.

Sirius stuck out his tongue back a James as if they were both teenagers.

There was a pop followed by a knock on the door.

Harry rushed to the door and opened it before checking.

Which probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but the wards were holding and it was the Lovegoods who they were expecting.

Luna came at him with a hug, he hugged her back before helping her with her cloak. She was wearing a sweaterdress embroidered magical arctic foxes that flicked their white fluffy tails over the grey-blue knit fabric.

Mr. Lovegood held out a knife shaped package at him, "Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter."

"Um, thank you, I didn't get you anything," he said awkwardly.

"You're the child," Mr. Lovegood said, almost as a threat. "I expect nothing from you except you not bringing harm to my daughter."

"Oh," Harry said lamely.

Luna tugged on his sleeve. "Go ahead and open it."

Harry took the wrapping paper off the knife-shaped package, and surprise, it was a knife, a hunters-knife that looked like it was as useful for carving up thestral food as it would be for defence in a pinch. He resheathed the knife in its leather holder with a satisfying sound.

"It is high-content silver steel and should prove useful," Mr. Lovegood said.

"Thank you," Harry said.

The man grunted, walking around them to join the other adults.

"You any good at Transfiguration, Xeno?" Sirius asked as he sat.

Minerva tilted her head to the side, "Your wife was at the top of her year in all of her classes."

That's odd, Harry thought. Didn't Mr. Lovegood go to Hogwarts?

Luna caught his gaze, shook her head, and whispered, "He's from Poland."

"Oh," Harry said, because he took after his father in being really great with words.

A natural poet.

"Here," Luna said, shoving a box at him.

"Thanks, um," Harry said and then reached into his pocket to pull out the carefully wrapped package for her.

Luna accepted it but waited for him to open hers first.

He turned his attention to the little box. Opening it, he found a medallion on a silver chain. The medallion was embossed with the image of a thestral.

"It's beautiful," he said.

Luna smiled, taking it out of the box herself to pull it over his head. "It will feel like it's singing if there is someone nearby who intends to do you harm."

Harry flushed, "Oh, that's amazing and a lot more useful than what I got you."

She was already unwrapping her gift.

He had gotten her pendant also, though, unlike the thestral medallion, it was smaller than a galleon. The silver surface was blank in the box, but the moment she picked it up, the metal rippled, an image like a coloured video of ocean waves over a tropical beach.

Her voice was soft with wonder as she breathed, "Harry, this is lovely."

"It matches your moods, on what you want to see, what would help you reach peace of mind. All charmed scenes are water-related."

She looked up at him with her beautiful luminous eyes, "Thank you."

He smiled, "I love you."

"I—" she began.

Sirius whistled, "Hey love doves, come join us for dinner. The dinner Malcolm and Harry worked so hard on putting together for us."

Harry rolled his eyes.

Luna stood on socked tip-toes, having shucked her boots at the door. She leaned into him to kiss his cheek, "I love you too."

Harry's happiness could not be dimmed by the stupid faces Sirius and his own father were making at them.

oOo

Luna felt something she rarely felt; awkward.

Not to say she wasn't, she was certain others saw her as such, but she rarely felt awkward.

She found it distinctly uncomfortable as she sat between Harry and her father, her Uncle Remus Lupin across from her.

The worst part was, Remus seemed utterly oblivious.

Well, not completely oblivious, Father was glaring at him after all, and even with the glamour he wore it was a look greater men than Remus had crippled beneath.

Luna didn't exactly know what her father's profession had been before marrying her mother. He didn't like to talk about his past much.

But she was pretty certain it had to do with killing people for money.

This was a hunch put together by his comments about her subjects at school and various stories he printed in his paper.

There is an art to free speech, my Little Moon, no truth is so free to sing when surrounded by the disbelieving. After all, revolutions are only dangerous if the people who ride up believe in them.

Her father was Polish and hadn't attended Hogwarts, he found the United Kingdom ridiculous except for the fact that it had been her mother's home.

Remus was a smart man, but not quite smart enough to realise how furious her father was at him.

Harry gave her a questioning look, but she shook her head.

Remus finally noticed, meeting her father's gaze, "Is there something the matter, Mister Lovegood?"

"You weren't at the funeral," Father said, voice close to a growl as if he were the werewolf.

"Excuse me?" Remus asked.

"You weren't at my wife's funeral."

Remus blinked, "I— I didn't know your wife."

"You didn't?" Minerva asked, disbelieving.

Sirius and James exchanged a look.

"No?" Remus asked, looking between Minerva and Luna's father as if searching for a rescue. "She was Pandora Lovegood, right? I never knew her."

Father leaned over the table, hands clenched at his sides, "She was your sister, Pandora Lupin Lovegood."

Remus paled, his eyes going large.

It was difficult to see, the family resemblance.

Luna's mother had been a burning star, bright and vibrant in all that she did.

Remus was aged beyond his years, as if his very soul was emaciated. His sandy-blonde hair was greyed, his skin scarred and discoloured.

Lycanthropy was in illness, but Luna suspect it was isolation, grief, and depression that had stolen the spark from him.

The life from him.

Unlike in her second year, he was clean shaven, yet this only made him appear more sickly.

Remus looked like his father, Lyall Lupin, whereas her mother had looked like her mother, Hope Howell, a muggle born.

"I— I had a sister?" Remus asked, voice breaking.

Harry winced.

Sirius spoke, "I have heard marvellous things about Pandora Lovegood, I never knew that she was a Lupin."

"She was disowned by her parents," her father said. "She was fourteen at the time and sent to live with her muggle grandparents in Germany."

"But why?" James asked.

"Because of me," Remus said, voice thick with emotion. "They sent her away because of me."

Her father was quiet for a long moment before he said, "Pandora shared with me everything. She was sent to live with her grandparents, your mother's muggle parents the year you were born. Your father didn't know how to deal with her 'muggle disease' and he made your mother, Hope, choose between the new baby and her 'diseased' child."

"What?" Harry asked harshly. "That's cruel."

Remus looked even more disturbed at this, "My parents… what disease?"

"It wasn't a disease, and luckily, your maternal grandparents were against instationlationizing her. She got the help she needed and was able to attend Hogwarts," Father said, sounding less hostile. "Hope remained in contact with Pandora, your mother wrote about you often. She had pictures of you and your friends. I assume the same was not true for you, nor did she pass on any gifts or letters?"

Remus shook his head, "I never knew…"

"Why didn't you respond to her owls after the war?" Father asked. "She was waiting for you to graduate from Hogwarts, but given her talents, I urged her to stay out of the war unless Tom Riddle and his cult targeted her."

"You didn't think of joining the war effort to protect her?" Sirius snapped.

Father levelled him with a hard look, "I have seen war such as you could not imagine. No matter which side won, neither would be more accepting of that which I held dear."

"You would not fight against evil?" Sirius asked.

Father arched a brow, "The current government has sentenced many innocents to unjust fates. They have certified the killing of dragons and allowed a great many evils to pass on unchallenged. Not all evil hides in the shadows."

"And in your opinion, where do werewolves fall into that equation?" Sirius asked, defensive of his friend.

Father shrugged, "I have slain many in my time, but I have also smuggled some to safety. Humans are in my opinion, the creature most capable of evil, lycanthropy is but an excuse for some."

"Slain?" James asked.

"Decapitation with a silver blade is quite an effective method," Father said dispassionately.

"Alright," Malcolm interrupted. "And that is quite enough of this topic for a Christmas feast."

Remus rose to his feet, "Excuse me, I—" His voice caught and he left without another word.

Harry reached for Luna's hand but she slid out of reach following Remus out into the snow, barely pausing to grab her cloak and slip back on her boots.

He didn't notice her at first as she followed his footsteps out of sight of the cottage house.

"Remus," she called into the wind when he came to stop, looking into the valley as if he were contemplating jumping.

He spun so fast, he nearly slipped off the edge in the snow. He might have done if she hadn't lunged forward and pulled them into a mound of snow.

She couldn't help but smile at the snowflakes that spun around them, landing on her skin like tiny kisses from the sky. She listened to the sound of the crystals collecting in her hair, like a slow tinkling of glass.

Then she remembered her Uncle, she turned to look at him. He stared up at the pale sky, face painted in sorrow.

"She never knew you either," Luna said. "She loved you still."

"You can't love someone you don't know," Remus said without looking at her.

"Of course you can," Luna said. "The best love is understanding, but love is love. You can be loved without knowing it, without feeling it, but that does not negate the truth of its existence."

He finally looked at her, "I am sorry. I am sorry I did not know you either."

"You never got her letters, did you?"

He looked back up at the colourless sky, "No, or I don't remember."

"She reached out when I was born, I think she realised your mother never told you about her."

"When you were born…" Remus repeated, turning his head back to her. The strands of his hair getting wet in the snow beneath him. "You're a year younger than Harry, right?"

She nodded.

"I wasn't— that wasn't a good time for me. My friends were suspicious of me and I didn't always trust that the mail was safe to open. And after—" he swallowed. "After my friends were gone, Harry was gone, and the war was over… I fell into a bottle. I don't remember much about those years, except for the cold and the emptiness."

Pity moved her, "Mum knew about you. She knew about your friends and what subjects you were best at. She used to tell me and Great Grandma Howell-stories about you. Grandma Hope told her about your nickname, Moony. It's why Mama named me Luna, Moon."

Tears spilled down Remus's cheeks before he covered his face with both hands, curling in on himself.

It was a wonderful thing to learn you had family, a sister who loved you.

Less wonderful, to learn your sister who loved you had already passed on. Even less welcome when it was your own parents who separated you.

Luna turned on her side to rub the man's shoulder, "I'm glad your father didn't give up on you like he did on my mother. I'm sorry you were separated from us."

Remus's sobs might have seemed broken to others, but lying there beside him, Luna watched the nargles flee and the darker spirits dissolve into the snow.

Sometimes, the things that broke us, freed us from the shackles of our illusions.

Such as an idol we hold up of our perfect parents.

Or the despair we cling to when we fear ourselves to be unlovable.

oOo

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oOo

AN: Thoughts, discord, spirrows, or feedback, pretty please?