"Are you worried?" Percy asks, idly pulling leaves off a young oak, not looking at Luna. "
I just found a bush of blueberries, and the sun is shining. What is there to worry about?" Luna replies, her voice light.
Percy frowns. "I think your earrings are rotting. Luna, what if the comet doesn't come? Have you seen anything in the sky?"
"I only know what the stars are telling me, and they are not very forthcoming. Though, according to historical records, this was a significant one. Half of Europe died."
"Does it have a name, your comet?"
"It's called the Swan." Luna is savouring the berries, eating them one by one. "For dessert, I will chew some pine sap."
"Oh, yes, the Swan, you said. But do you think we'll see it soon?"
"No."
Percy tears his eyes from the poor little tree. "What do you mean, 'no'? Is it coming or not?"
"I mean, it won't be visible," Luna says nonchalantly.
"You said you saw something in the stars!"
"The stars sometimes talk to me. As they do with the centaurs, I think"
"You're not making sense."
"The Muggles here are different. They don't need to see a thing to believe it. To them, anything they don't understand is explained by the supernatural. The omen that will bring death to so many—they won't realize that they knew about it until the misery has killed off everyone they know."
"They'll imagine that they saw a comet?"
"Something like that." There are no berries left, and Luna starts investigating the trunk of a nearby pine. "So we won't know if the comet has passed us by?"
"Not until the Black Death arrives," Luna chirps.