Chapter Text
Luna Lovegood sits still while her mother weaves her sunflower hair with comb and wand. The intricate bun she is left with is different.
Pure.
Elitist.
Strands from her lopsided fringe escape, falling across blue eyes. Her mother sighs but leaves it be. Luna waits patiently as her crown of orange and blue dandelions is set upon her head, the finishing touch.
Footsteps sound at the door.
“Did you pick those yourself, Lunabear?” her father asks. “Yes, Papa,” Luna replies, “I followed the Nargles to their hiding place.” “Ahhh,” he replies simply, hand rubbing the back of his neck.
A shared glance between husband and wife.
Luna dismisses it and turns back to the mirror, smiles at her mother in the reflection. “Thank you, Mama,” she says, hugging her.
The glance disappears as she replies with a smile, “You’re welcome, my Luna.”
At her sniffly tone, Luna pulls away, searching the air around their heads. Mama gazes back, eyes a question. “I’m checking for Wrackspurts,” Luna explains. And determining that none are flitting about them, Luna kisses her nose and skips to her father.
The glance returns.
But Luna is too busy thinking how happy her friend, Theodore Nott, will be when he opens his very own set of Dirigible plum cufflinks for his eighth birthday.
Theodore Nott sits still amidst presents wrapped in shiny black paper, tied with ribbons of silver and green. The broom he just opened lies half unwrapped in his hands, limp. His mother sits beside him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
Silent.
Surprisingly so.
“What do you say to the Malfoys’, Theodore?” His father stands apart, hands clasped behind his back. They make a picture-perfect pureblood family.
Theo opens his mouth to thank them but is interrupted by the whoosh of the Floo in the next room. It closes, and the patter of skipping feet echo closer.
Closer.
And then a girl wearing a dress the same yellow as her hair skips into the room.
“Happy birthday Theo,” Luna sings, brightness amongst the dreary grey of the estate. His father is tense, and it comes off him in waves, slapping Theo across his back. But her light blocks it out, and he offers a small smile. She skips to a stop in front of him.
He looks down.
Her toes are bare and coloured, pink and green with yellow suns.
They wiggle.
Then something is in his hands. Something wrapped in orange to rival the dandelions in her hair. His hands move to open-
A throat clears.
It is loud.
Invasive.
Absolute.
It stops Theo from opening the present he dearly wishes to see.
“Thank you, Miss Lovegood,” his mother now speaks, her hand touching his shoulder gives him courage as much as her words. “Open it, Theo, dear.”
He doesn’t dare look at his father.
Instead, Theo gives a small nod to his mother, then opens the dainty parcel in his lap. Inside the box are two tiny plums, a colour so deep he can’t tell if they’re purple or red.
He looks at Luna questioningly.
“They’re cufflinks,” she smiles, “to keep the Nargles away.”
Theo can’t help but hear the muffled snickers from the boys in attendance.
His father will not like that.
Theo’s smile is tight as he thanks her. And before he understands what is happening, she wraps her arms around him in a hug.
“You’re welcome, Theo,” she whispers and kisses the tip of his nose. Then before he can turn red, she skips away, back to the Floo, disappearing with a single whoosh.
His father will not like that AT ALL .