Speaking to the Moon
Dyslexia: Language disability, we will continue to die like men, yes, we'z will, my Precious.
Chapter 1 - Speaking with the Moon
She was not ageing.
Alright, she had grown a quarter of an inch taller in the last twenty years, but otherwise…
Luna had always been different, always been odd. She was, after all, Loony Lovegood. But the people she knew were passing on without her, the world seemed to be moving on without her.
Her colleagues –along with random witches on the streets– had begun to hate her for her appearance, for finding 'the magic spell' to look young forever young and refusing to share that knowledge.
But there was nothing to share, and if it was a secret, it was one hidden to her as well.
Her father was many years buried, but in her search for answers to her 'condition', she discovered that she had, indeed, been adopted. Yet she knew not where from or any trace of her origins or genealogy. According to the note attached to her first visit to St. Mungo’s, she had been found in the garden, the flowers her watchful guardians.
It was a trick of some kind that she looked so much like her adoptive parents.
Staring into her reflection, Luna mourned the lack of age lines. But to her own eyes, she was changing, in great leaps and bounds her very core and being were changing. Some fragileness tearing away like cobwebs to reveal something other.
As other to the people around her as she had always felt.
It started with the dreams, dreams of skies that had never known a muggle light, of forests both dark and deep, of trees who spoke, and mist that veiled the crests of mountain tops.
Long had she wished these places that she had never seen, never ventured, for fear that reality would break her imagination. These were the sort of dreams she held close to her heart and never wished to be parted from, even if that meant to nevermore being awoken.
Such wishes marked the beginning of the end of her career. The more fantastical her dreams, the more vivid they painted themselves through her mind, and the more the wind beckoned to her, the less her magic seemed to respond to her commands.
Which was why, on this day, she was going to visit her dearest friend.
Harry didn't know everything, but Harry Potter was the only being on this planet who didn't believe was crazy.
To him, she was just Luna.
To her, he was just Harry.
Luna straightened her suit, her pants were navy but made of a fine material that could withstand the odd swipe of a dragon's claws. Her vest was shimmery powder blue over a white button-down that was cut to be presentable, yet it too could handle the sweat of mucking stalls. Her overcoat was perhaps too warm for the season but would serve her well if it rained. Finishing her ensemble with a blue ribbon and a white jade pin in her wild hair, she deemed herself ready to depart.
Dressing like this, allowed her to pass through all walks of life. The muggles thought her fashionable, unlike when she wore her witch’s robes, and her wizard company thought her presentable enough, all the while, she was ready to shovel dragon dung on a moment's notice.
If she 'scared off suitors' like Hermoine insisted she was, well, Luna didn't much desire anyone anyway.
Weaving her way through the busy streets of London, she began her rather short trek to Harry’s apartment. He lived at Hogwarts the majority of the days but he kept an apartment in Diagon Alley for the summer months.
That Harry was her best friend was public knowledge, their world thought it was out of pity, two war veterans reminiscing, and others thought of things far less flattering.
Ginny and Luna had had a falling out during the youngest Weasley’s divorce from Harry. Not unreasonably, seeing as Luna had unequivocally taken Harry's side. What had hurt was that Ginny accused Harry of adultery and then blamed Luna for seducing him.
Luna was a pariah in most social circles, the Immortal Home Recurer was among the names she hated most.
That Luna had never so as much kissed another person, nor in fact, never had any desire to, didn't seem to matter in the slightest.
It was the same reason she and Neville were no longer friends, Neville abhorred drama and put his family above all else. Luna didn't blame him for doing everything in his power to preserve that. Neville was probably one of the luckiest ones among their generation on the home front, given the tragedies that dogged their generation.
Hermoine was sort of her friend, though that seemed to extend only to the rare occasions they saw each other. Hermoine Granger rarely had time for anyone, when she wasn't working, she was reading, and when she wasn't reading, she was rewriting laws.
As Minister of Magic, her work ethic was admirable, after what happened to her family, excluding Harry, it was understandable that she lacked the desire to be pulled away. After all, if she took a breath, she might look backwards at all that she had lost.
So it was that those who could be counted among Luna's friends were Harry, her fauna in her apartment, and the temporary friendship of the dragons she tended on the reservation, the latter being a conditional friendship that relied solely on the timeliness and quality of the meals she delivered to them.
Although, it was her personal opinion that she was less loathed by the dragons than any other.
It was an uncontested fact that animals liked her more than people did. It was a simple fact of her life.
She let herself into Harry’s apartment but knocked when she got to the stoop at the top of the stairs despite having the keys to that door as well.
The sound of a dozen locks turned over as Harry Potter, the Finest Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Hogwarts, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had ever known and Luna Lovegood's very best friend opened the door with an exuberant smile, unabashedly showing off his every wrinkle.
His messy salt and pepper hair looked as windswept as ever and his startling green eyes reflected her own happiness.
"Luna!" he greeted pulling her into a strong hug which she returned, hoping he didn’t notice the slight desperation which caused her to cling a few moments beyond their greeting.
Too often she felt as if she was lost at sea, but he was her lighthouse, calling her back toward the harbour.
She was quietly going mad, watching time taking its toll on him. Even if he still moved with a spring in his step, head unbowed to the world despite the many trials it had put him through, the years had carved its marks on him.
When he left her behind, she feared she would be unmoored and lost in open waters with no light or star to guide her home. She breathed him in, holding on to each memory of him as though it would be their last.
Only with Harry did she feel not alone.
But no moment could or would last forever and she let him go, his every breath wearing heavy on her heart as if each puff of air were tugging him away from her.
"I have a gift for you," Harry enthused, though she did not miss the flash of concern in his gaze. "Come, come, sit, ignore the mess."
Harry was a hurricane, his apartment was an assortment of books and quidditch magazines and an overabundance of clothes.
Of Harry's three children, none of them had ever had a wardrobe or pair of shoes that did not fit them, nor had they ever known what it was like to go to bed on an empty stomach.
Luna was pretty proud to be on the shortlist that Harry would both cook and bake for.
She made herself at home, kicking her boots off into the Potter domain before curling up on her spot on the sofa, the only island that remained free of clutter.
Harry disappeared into the next room and emerged back again with an adolescent owl on his arm.
Luna's heart skipped and broke from joy as a glory of white and grey feathers was presented to her.
"It's her, Luna. I never put much stock in reincarnation but here she is," he said in an almost hushed tone, sitting beside her as Luna gently reached out to stroke those feathers with reverence.
"Hello, Hedwig, it is good to meet you again," she said in awe to the owl who blinked at her with reproachful amber eyes.
Yet despite Hedwig's pride, she allowed herself to be petted, like a queen accepting worship.
As Harry had been Luna's first friend, Hedwig had been Harry's.
"I am so happy for you, Harry."
Harry grinned, "She's yours."
"What!?' Luna squawked, "No, Harry, I couldn't possibly-"
"Owls live for a very long time, Luna, or at least they are meant to. This girl will outlive me this time. But when I saw her…" he shut his eyes, and Hedwig bit his finger. He let out a startled laugh and looked at the bird with sparkling emerald eyes, before returning his attention back to Luna with an imploring expression. "I couldn't let her go to some stranger. She will be good for you, you worry me living all alone-"
"Harry," she protested, "I am not a chi-"
"No," he cut her off, "You are my dearest friend and I am allowed to worry about you."
Luna bit her lip before inclining her head and holding out her arm. Hedwig gazed between them solemnly, before stepping onto Luna's forearm with a finality that rang through her soul.
The bonding of a familiar.
Luna stroked Hedwig's head and fought back the tears at the acknowledgement of something that she and Harry had long avoided.
The consequences of her lack of ageing.
Harry leaned back against the sofa, his arms extended, and looking younger than she knew him to be.
He asked with deliberate casualness, "Have you been reading the papers?"
Unphased, she raised her chin, "Of course not."
"Then why do you look so sad?"
"You know why," she retorted, gently scratching the top of Hedwig's head.
"Has your magic still been…"
"I can't use my wand anymore," she informed him. "None of the Latin works anymore, nothing I do–”
She cut herself off, noticing how her tone was causing Hedwig's feathers to flare a bit.
She softened her tone, "All that is left to me is parlour tricks. Fire dances at my fingertips and water follows my hands but otherwise…" she met Harry's gaze, "I'm losing everything."
He stroked her cheek, "No you haven't."
"I can't perform my job anymore," she told him, "I'm little better than a squib-"
"No, you're not," he said kindly but with a thread of certainty that gave his words a steely edge. "I cannot pretend I know what's happening with you, or why these things are happening, but you are changing, my friend, not decaying. Have a little more faith in yourself."
"You're not the one shovelling dragon dung," she muttered.
Fury crossed Harry's expression, "Then you should quit, I can fund your independent-"
She waved that away, "I've already done that, I enjoy working with the dragons."
"But if you're coworkers are-"
"It doesn't matter, Harry. There is something else I've been meaning to tell you…"
His gaze sharpened on her, "More dreams?"
"No, I mean, yes, but there is something else."
She had been wary of telling him. Logically, she knew she had nothing to fear, this was Harry, but she worried all the same.
He raised his brows, "Well, come on then, you can't leave me in suspense. You know what mysteries do to me."
She laughed at that and Hedwig hooted softly.
"Alright, no need to go set fire to London, Mr. Potter." But the momentary happiness faded at what she said next. "It's one of the dragons, it's, that is, I hear it speaking…"
Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world.
Harry observed her, an odd expression decorating his face as he finally spoke, picking each word with deliberate care. "In my experience, Luna Lovegood, if you hear voices in our world; you ought best to listen to them."
She blinked at him, then laughed, snorting she tried to speak clearly, "I don't know why I thought you would say something else."
He broke into a grin, "Now I'm not saying do whatever it says, dragons are mean-"
"No they aren't," she protested, "It's only because-"
"They can be, then," he amended, "They can harm you. However, I believe you should follow where your heart leads you. If the dragon is speaking, you should probably mind what it has to say."
"It called to me the other day as I was leaving."
"What did it call you?"
"'Child of the Stars,' 'Child of the East Ridge', and 'Graced One of the Valar,'" she answered.
Neither of them knew who or what the Valar was.
"He or she was trying to get your attention."
She nodded, "I know but it gave me chills, it felt like an echo from my dreams."
"It isn't like you to be afraid."
She looked into his eyes, "I feel as if everything is moving too fast, I don't want the world to pass, and looking into that dragon's eyes, I saw…"
She saw her dreams in waking hours.
"What?" he prompted.
"Something I can never come back from, a choice that cannot be unmade."
He smiled, "Take it from a Gryffindor, little bird, don't be afraid to fly. It was what wings are meant to do."
"But what if I never see you again?" she asked, "What if you die and time- Time continues to move on without me?"
He pulled her into another hug then, Hedwig hopping on his shoulder, "Wherever your life takes you, remember me, and I will be with you always."
She clung to him, "You're the only family I have left, Harry."
He pulled back and cupped her face in his hands, they were soft from age, "Luna, listen to me, your magic has not left you. There is nothing and there has never been anything wrong with you. Follow your dreams, don't let anything or anyone hold you back."
She smiled at him, her heart fit to bursting, "Listen to the dragon?"
He laughed, "Yes, Luna dear, listen to the dragon and follow the stars."
oOo
Luna had tried to leave Hedwig in the employee lounge, but the stubborn owl, despite having wretched out a mouse after refusing to believe Luna about the trouble with portkeys, was now refusing to leave your shoulder.
"Fine," she told Hedwig, as she walked over the grounds. “Don't blame me when the dragons want to use your bones as toothpicks."
“I would rather use yours, Moonchild.”
Luna took in a deep breath before turning toward the Antipodean Opaleye. Even in the dim light before dawn in this part of the world, the dragon's white scales shimmered and its fire opal eyes seemed to stare into her true being.
"Said the white dragon whose scales shone and sparkled in the moonlight like freshly fallen snow," she responded, having learned over the years how intelligent and frightfully vain dragons were.
This dragon was no different as it roared with what she translated to being laughter.
It pressed as close to the bars of the cage as it could, “I like you, Child of Stars, how did you become Lost as I? Why did the Valar exile you here? A child you are but your nature shines through the mockery of angel-kin these false-wizards don.”
"Who are the Valar? And I am not an exile, nor am I angel-kin, I am a witch."
The dragon chuckled, “Too young, so young, never one of your kind have I found without shelter. Unheard of, in all the ages, that you should find yourself alone.”
"I am not young nor am I a child. And there are plenty of orphans among my kind."
The dragon rubbed its great white head against the bars like a cat begging for attention. “You are not one of these cruel, brutish humans. Tell me how old you are, so I may know the extent of the wrong heaped upon you.”
"I am eight-nine years old," she told the creature, fervently glad that no one but her ever came to work before dawn.
“Only the humans have you known?”
"What else is there to mistake me as? Yes, I lived with my mother and father, a witch and wizard."
The dragon hissed, “Not wizards, humans with stolen magic. And young you are, almost an adult but a child yet you remain. Free me and I can return you to the Valar.”
The dragon considered eight-nine to be a child? Sure, she still looked like she was seventeen, but regardless, "I don't-"
“Or home to the Eastern Shore,” the dragon coaxed, pleaded. “Child of Stars, I see in your heart what lies in mine, neither treasure nor title could ever abide our beings. We long for that which is so much greater. Smaller and smaller this world grows, no place for us, no home for us. No family we have.”
"I have Harry," she protested.
The dragon dipped its head, “Your mate?”
"No!" she protested.
Really, even the dragon?
"He is my friend."
The dragon huffed, and only when she felt the heat from its exhaled breath did she realise her peril.
Yet Luna did not pull back, it was not this dragon's intent to harm her.
“If he is not your other half, then you are free to leave him. If you remain, he will soon die, and you will have nothing more.”
Luna did take a step back then, Hedwig hooting softly at her shoulder.
The dragon's response to this was odd, almost frantic.
“Wait. You do not yet understand; you are like me. These others have forgotten how to speak, like the trees your people once taught to sing. I am alone too. I wish to go home, to return to that far north, under snow covered mountains where my kind dwells, free and far from worry or sight of man.”
"There is no such place," Luna informed the dragon sadly, feeling a longing that buckled her courage to face each approaching dawn.
The dragon appeared to perceive her mind because it said, “Yes, Little Lost Star, you have seen it. That place shaped by the Valar, that land of Middle Earth. We are in Exile here, beyond the make of the Valar, but you–you–are blessed. On my wings carry you across the sea, on your light, welcomed home would we both be.”
"Why were you exiled?" Luna asked, hiding a smirk as the posturing dragon flinched.
“Not I, my sire traded me when I was but an egg for the dwarven treasure trove. How I arrived here, I know not by what means I came, but my dreams… Every dragon is hatched knowing the light and dark places of the world, and that world I know, is not the one I find myself trapped in.”
Luna shivered as words were put to the deepest secrets of her heart.
“I can take you home, to Middle Earth, Child of Stars, of no one, have I ever begged,” the dragon dropped its body to the bottom of the cage lowering its head so they were at eye level. “Let us return to where we will be welcomed.”
Luna gazed about them, the other dragons stared at her with interest, but what they wanted was food. Gazing into the indescribably beautiful eyes of the pearl dragon before her, she saw a different type of hunger.
One she recognised from her own heart.
Time was running short, an orange glow from behind the silhouette of black mountains was chasing the stars from the sky.
Luna's hand was on the bars of the cage as she thought of these poor dragons, the biggest and deadliest creatures on earth, restrained to the tightest contaminants as the world overpopulated with men and beat back the wild places of the world.
"What do you think, Hedwig?" Luna asked hers and Harry's shared familiar.
Hedwig hooted sagely, so Luna spoke the magic words that the locks responded to regardless of a person's personal magic.
A lock was designed to keep only the animal inside from escaping as the captive was not supposed to be able to have words.
And yet…
The dragon had spoken to Luna.
oOo
AN: Thoughts, feedback, requests, ideas, or owls and dragons?