pandora's box

In a land so far away,
The flowers bloom
And children play.

In peace and quiet,
No war in sight,
No dooming riot,
No choice between what’s wrong and right.

And she laughs among them,
Soft and clear,
And wishes, that she could stay forever
Here.

Luna knew that technically, no one really wanted her any harm. Yes, she obviously wasn’t popular or had many friends, but she still knew that none of them would go exponentially out of their way to find out where she lived (a secluded little tower in the middle of nowhere) and murder her while she slept. Which was precisely why she knew that the person standing by the door must be her father who had come to soothe her after she’d awoken from her nightmare screaming.

She smiled when her suspicions were confirmed.

“Hey Daddy”, she said.

Xenophilius Lovegood mirrored her smile.

“Hello, Luna. Are you alright?”

Luna reached for a glass of water on her bedside table. Her hand shook which went unnoticed by her father.

“I’ve been better. It’s been a while since I last dreamt of mum.”

Her eyes seemed to focus on something beyond the small square window of her room as she took a sip of her water.
Her father took a seat on the bed next to her, eyeing her legs carefully. It wouldn’t be the first time he accidentally sat on them.

“I suppose it’s been a while since she’s passed”, he said absently. “I … I seem to have forgotten that she’s gone.”

“Do you miss her then?”, Luna asked, her wide blue eyes studying her father’s face.

His eyes grew a little misty.

“Terribly. Every time- I see her in everything. When I see a new record, I think about how much she would love it. Or when I buy strawberries, about how they are her favorite fruit. Every time I see a kneazle, I have to stop and pet it. Because that’s what she’d have done.”

He shot Luna a small smile in an attempt to mask his pain. She scooted closer, wrapping her arms around his skinny frame.

Luna herself believed that she’d come to terms with her mother’s death. She’d locked the bad memories away into the back of her mind until all that remained were memories of picnics on sunny afternoons and trips to the river and dancing to the muggle radio. Flashes of her laughter still rung in her ears sometimes, the way her mother’s teeth were gleamingly white when she smiled.
Thinking back always made Luna sad. Her father had never really gotten over her death.

Her mother had been the realest person he’s ever known, so loud and lively and happy. She had been the world to him, one of the most beautiful people he’d ever met. Which was why her exceptionally gruesome death affected him even more.

Her mother’s death had been all brutal and bloody and so, so red. The ugliest death for the most beautiful human.

Sometimes Luna wondered how it was fair. All that remained of her was the sole picture of them that rested on her wooden desk and a small wooden box her father kept treasured in his office.

“You okay, Daddy?”, Luna asked, her eyebrows scrunched together in worry as she stroked his back calmingly.

Xenophilius sniffled.

“Of course, dear. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be”, she smiled soothingly.

She loved her father very dearly, regardless of his rather unusual way of thinking.

“I love you so much, do you know that?”

She chuckled lightly.

“Of course, I do! I’ll always be your favorite daughter, even though I am your only.”

He pressed a kiss on top of her head.

“That’s right, my little Looney. You should go to sleep now.”

Luna giggled at the nickname.

“Aren’t I too old for that name?”

He spared her a fond smile.

“Never. You’ll always be my little Looney.”

“Even if I’m not little anymore?”

“Even if you’re not little anymore.”

She smiled at that before snuggling deeper into her blanket which smelled like lavender.

“Good night, Daddy”, she mumbled as he stroked her hair slowly.

“Good night, Luna”, he replied before she squeezed her eyes shut and drifted off to sleep.

Luna was awoken later that day by a loud bang downstairs. She rubbed the sleep out of her clear blue eyes before realizing the noise. In confusion, she tiptoed down the stairs into her father’s office where she was met with a rather curious sight: cartons upon cartons stacked upon each other, full of magical artifacts and books. Quills, magazines and even an old, muggle typewriter covered the floor, making it impossible to properly walk around.

Which was probably why her father was currently balancing on a battered armchair, trying to hold onto a very wobbly-looking bookshelf with one hand and carrying a wooden box in the other.

“Would you like some help, Daddy?”, Luna asked, wisely staying away from the mess that was further into the room.

“Oh, hey Luna”, her father sounded a little nervous, “yes, if you could take this box from me, I’d appreciate it very much.”

Luna nodded, her wide eyes glancing up towards her father as she slowly made her way towards him.

She avoided the many unfinished projects laying strewn around the floor. Xenophilius had picked up the hobby of tinkering around with muggle devices and it wouldn’t be of her surprise if one day, they all found their death because of it.

Nevertheless, Luna thought it was awesome. Her mum used to experiment with creating new potions and spells. She’d spent most of her childhood days in the garden with her, sitting on a small wooden stool and bugging her mom with endless questions. Other parents may have become annoyed at the sheer amount of them, but never Pandora. Pandora would always laugh, a sweet, melodic laugh that had her regarding her daughter with a fond smile.

“You will make a fine witch one day”, she’d always say, “you have the curiosity and the wits to be great.”

Luna had loved those days with her mum. Sure, she also loved spending the days with her dad, traipsing through the forests and meeting new magical creatures. But those days in the garden felt simple, like it was a different kind of magic.

The remnants of that magic had since been lost to the wind. The garden still thrived under Luna’s care, yet she had never been able to view it the same anymore. Not after what had happened.

Luna reached for the box, cautiously taking it from her father’s hands. With wonder, she realized it was her mother’s box.

“Why did you decide to give me this?”, she asked after helping an adrenaline-filled Xenophilius down from the armchair which he claimed was way too high (it had an astonishing height of sixty centimeters).

“Well, after our talk this morning I suddenly felt the urge to open it. I felt it was the right time”, he announced, dusting down his yellow pants.

Luna eyed the box with interest. It seemed to be made of simple oak wood, a simple design only engraved with her mother initials. P.H.O., it said in simple lettering. Pandora Helena Ollivander.

“Have you never opened it before?”

Xenophilius shook his head.

“Only once after she … died. To add some of her old things. But I didn’t look through it, suppose I was too scared of what I might find. Your mother put everything important to her into that box. Research, but also personal things.”

Luna had listened with big eyes. This was the last thing that was left of her mother. The last bit of her thoughts, of what was important to her.

A part of Luna wished to find a picture of herself in that box.

“Do you want to open it, then?”, her curiosity had taken over.

Her father chuckled nervously, playing with his long yellow sleeves.

“Sure.”

Luna clicked a button and the lock popped open. It was a muggle invention, locks like that. She carefully opened the lid to reveal the box’s content.

Letters, notes and photographs filled the inside. A small sunflower that was made to last longer with a preservation charm. A bracelet, several silver rings, and a key.

Xenophilius choked out a sob. He had clamped his hand over his mouth and his eyes seemed to be tearing up.

“Do you need some air, Daddy?”, Luna asked full of worry.

He shook his head.

“It’s fine. I just … remembered a lot at once.”

He picked up a photograph, carefully tracing the people’s faces. Luna managed to catch a glimpse of them.

It showed four people: one of them was her mother, with her long blonde hair and the freckled pale skin, someone who Luna was always told she resembled a lot. She stood next to a tall, dark-skinned boy who was sporting a bleached buzzcut and a wide smile. Next to him, another boy had wrapped an arm around the others waist, grinning lazily at the camera. He had sandy blond hair that was swept back with a ridiculous amount of hair gel. The last boy stood on her mother’s other side. His skin was pale and his hair dark, which threw stark shadows on his face. All four of them were smiling and waving at the camera and they inevitably seemed close, yet Luna couldn’t recognize anyone besides her mother.

She cautiously looked between him and the photograph.

“Who are these people, Daddy?”

He smiled down sadly at the photograph.

“These were your mother’s best friends. This one here”, he pointed at the boy with the buzzcut, “that’s Evan. Evan Rosier. To be honest, he’s the only one with an actual brain in the group. But don’t tell … never mind.”

His smile slowly faded along with the last sentence.

“This one next to him, that’s Barty. Bartemius Crouch Jr. He hated that name, but it’s incredibly fun to annoy him with it. And next to your mother, that’s Regulus Black. A dramatic git, he was. He was probably the closest with Pandora. I sometimes feel like she was the only one who really understood him.”

Luna noticed the sadness in her fathers’ eyes, even though he seemed to smile at talking about these people.

“What happened to them?”, she asked nevertheless.

Her father chuckled sadly.

“They died. Or at least Regulus and Evan did. I think Barty went a little insane after Evan died. Whether that was because he loved him or because all his friends were dead, I don’t know. Pandora and I tried to keep him grounded, but after her death, I never heard from him again. Evan was killed in 1981. Mad-eye Moody. Took his eye before he left though. And Regulus, well, no one really knows what happened to him. When exactly he died. They say he betrayed the Dark Lord and was killed. It must have been around 1981 as well. One day he was there, and then the next day he was just ... gone, never to return.”

His voice got lost in the last sentence. His shoulders sagged a little, and suddenly, he looked ten years older. Luna had never realized how tired her father really seemed to be.

“I’m so sorry, Dad”, she whispered, “you must’ve been close with them as well.”

Xenophilius sniffled.

“You know, Regulus was supposed to be your godfather. You can’t imagine how happy he was when we told him we were having a child. He would’ve made a great parent one day.”

Luna smiled sympathetically.

“I would’ve loved to meet him. Everyone, really.”

That seemed to be the final straw as her father broke down in tears.

“They were such great people”, he cried, “such great people. They had all their life in front of them. Promising lives. And if it wasn’t for the Dark Lord … if it wasn’t for him and his stupid war, they’d all still be alive.”

He was weeping, trying to dry his tears with his pajama sleeve.

“It’s just not fair. It’s not bloody fair.”

Luna felt her eyes prickle with tears too. Whether it was the sight of her father crying or if she was mourning the people she could’ve known, could’ve grown up with, she didn’t quite know.

All she did know was that no matter how, she would get revenge on whoever ripped her father’s heart apart.
Because no one was allowed to hurt her father like this.