Devon, Ottery St. Catchpole—the Lovegood residence.
A gentle morning unfolded, sunlight streaming through powder-blue curtains that danced lightly in the breeze. Warm golden rays spilled across the bedroom floor, gilding everything in their path.
"Mmm…" A sleepy, catlike sound escaped the girl as she slowly opened her eyes.
She sat at the edge of her bed, her pale gold hair tumbling over her shoulders like a waterfall. Luna rubbed her eyes, stretched with lazy grace, and gazed out at the endless blue sky. "What a beautiful day!"
Descending the stairs, she glanced at a closed door nearby. The smile faded from her lips.
That door hadn't opened since yesterday.
"Yesterday was the start of term at Hogwarts. I'll be going next year too. Yes," she murmured, as if reminding herself of something important.
Xenophilius was already in the dining room, his hair a wild tangle, a writing board in his hands and a charcoal pencil tucked behind one ear as he brainstormed the latest issue of The Quibbler.
"Luna, today's perfect for painting," he announced, setting breakfast on the table.
Luna took her seat, picking up her knife and fork. "It really is—the sky looks just like a blue canvas."
Only the scratch of charcoal and the occasional clink of cutlery disturbed the quiet.
Xenophilius set aside his writing board. "Luna, are you alright? Is breakfast not to your liking?"
"I'm fine, Dad." Luna shook her head gently, her voice light as air.
She didn't want him to worry, so she changed the subject with practiced ease. "Is the new magazine ready? I can't wait to see it."
"The last few issues have done well! That Wyzett boy has some clever ideas!" Xenophilius brightened. "We've had a lot more submissions lately!"
"They're all fascinated by the 'local specialties' section—some even sent samples. I put a bit in the bread this morning."
"One contributor said their bees collect laurel honey, and anyone who eats it will have good luck. How does it taste?"
"So that was Wyzett's idea?" Luna murmured.
She speared a piece of bread, tasting it with a soft smile. "I think it's delicious."
...
Luna's days went on much as always—she tended the garden with the diligence of a honeybee.
Her owl, Diana, flitted at her side, singing cheerfully.
Collecting dew, loosening the soil, watering flowers, feeding the creatures…
She still found joy in these routines, but the happiness felt oddly incomplete, as if something essential was missing.
"The mistletoe and Dirigible Plums are doing well. No sign of Nargles," Luna said as she picked the golden fruit.
"Wyzett, do you know about Nargles? Dad told me they're a bit like maggots—tiny creatures with three thousand teeth even as babies, and even more as adults."
"They have three eyes and scythe-shaped hooks on their tails. That's why they're called Nargles. Isn't that interesting, Wyzett?"
"Wy…zett?"
The gentle reply she expected never came. Only the wind answered.
It felt, somehow, as if something had been locked away with that unopened door.
"Yes, he's gone to Hogwarts."
Luna rose and wandered down to the stream.
She sat on the bank, watching the water flow by, lost in thought.
It had only been a day, yet she already felt a hollow emptiness inside.
"The Wrackspurts are out in force," she murmured to the Dirigible Plums.
The feeling was familiar—she'd known it before.
Time would smooth it over; just a few more days, and she'd grow used to a world with one less person. Change was nothing new to her.
The sky was still clear, the stream just as bright. Yet, even as everything remained unchanged, Luna felt herself drifting further away from it all.
She sat by the water's edge for a long time, staring at her reflection, until a familiar owl's call snapped her from her reverie.
"Hoo! Hoo…" The owl swooped down, clutching a large bundle, flapping wildly like a battered propeller plane about to crash into the stream.
Luna darted forward, just managing to catch Sol before he tumbled into the water. "Sol, I've got you!"
"Hoo! Hoo!" Sol nuzzled her sleeve, then promptly closed his eyes in exhaustion.
"Bringing so much all the way from Hogwarts—you must be worn out." Luna stroked his drooping crest feathers with gentle affection.
Back at home, Xenophilius had just taken off his apron, a steaming stew on the table. "I was just about to come find you! What kept you out so late?"
Luna carefully placed the bundle on the table, holding up the owl in delight. "I ran into Sol!"
"That boy actually remembered to write?" Xenophilius arched an eyebrow, taking the owl from her arms.
"See what he's written. I'll get some tonic for Sol—he looks dead on his feet."
Opening the bundle, Luna found two large boxes of sweets. The sheer weight immediately explained poor Sol's exhaustion.
Beneath them was a letter, the thick parchment envelope inscribed: To Luna and Mr. Lovegood.
The words "and Mr. Lovegood" were spaced far apart, as if added later.
Luna pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart beat a little faster.
She let out a soft breath, then carefully opened the letter.
Dear Luna and Mr. Lovegood:
Sol brought you a bag of Chocolate Frogs. They're delicious, and I wanted to share them with you and Mr. Lovegood.
Hogwarts is beautiful and magical. I've seen so many wonderful things—too many to describe in a letter.
But that's alright, because next year you'll be here too, and we can explore together.
How are the mistletoe and Dirigible Plums at home? I remember the Dirigible Plums were nearly ripe.
Last time, when we were fertilizing together, you mentioned Nargles. What exactly are they?
I'm still curious—you left me hanging last time. Will you tell me now?
There's so much more to say about Hogwarts. I hope you won't mind if I ramble in my next letter.
P.S. Please give my regards to Mr. Lovegood.
Hope you're both well.
Wyzett Lovegood
The letter was simple, but its very simplicity made Luna feel close to Wyzett.
In her heart, Wyzett was never someone who blazed like the sun, but someone gentle as the wind, quietly at her side.
She could speak her mind without fear, and Wyzett would always accept it, just as easily.
Luna opened a box of Chocolate Frogs. The silky chocolate melted on her tongue, filling her heart with sweetness.
"And? Also? P.S.?" Xenophilius called from the kitchen, Sol now perching drowsily on his shoulder, looking a little revived.
"Luna, if you're writing back to that boy, tell him next time—no more 'and' or 'also' before my name!"
"Alright, Dad!" Luna tucked the letter away and fetched her art supplies from the cabinet.
Xenophilius peered after her, puzzled. "What are you up to? Lunch is ready!"
"I know, Dad!" Luna called as she dashed upstairs. "Didn't you say this morning was perfect for painting?"
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