Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I distinctly remember having a penis at one point.

I'm not even ashamed to admit that it was my first thought upon waking up and opening my eyes. My second thought was, naturally, "where the hell am I?" followed very closely by "what the fuck happened to my body?" There was a mildly disturbing feeling between my legs that I was too tired to understand, having literally just woken up, but the familiar presence between my legs didn't seem to be there. I felt lighter, somehow, but also awkward, as if my body was suddenly far smaller than I remembered.

And then the memories hit, and my body was struck with a strange sense of disconnected paralysis. I could feel my breath coming out in short pants, my vision seemed to coalesce into a tunnel, and there was a high-pitched squealing noise coming from somewhere, but my mind floated in a disorienting haze.

I could see vaguely human-shaped blobs out of the corner of my eye, and as they got closer, I realized vaguely that the high-pitched squealing was actually just me screaming.

Huh. Fancy that.

As awareness crashed into me, I started thrashing and flailing along my bedsheets, quickly getting entangled in them. As expected, the constricting feeling only caused me to thrash even harder, trying to rip my bedsheets and failing miserably. A hand reached for my neck and loosened the bedsheets, but I kept struggling until I felt like I was being lifted up.

The soft tones of the human-shaped blob carrying me became increasingly desperate as I continued to cry. I was startled, overwhelmed, terrified, and finally aware of my status as a goddamn infant, of course I'm going to cry. I felt something enter my mouth and my instant infant reflex was to suck at it. Liquid entered my mouth and I spit it out and continued to cry.

I finally realized that the mildly disturbing thing between my legs was actually just my diaper being full. If I could have communicated that to the blobs I vaguely assumed were my parents, I absolutely would have, but as an infant I had nowhere near the control necessary to do so. They eventually cottoned on to the fact that my ass was covered in filth, and finally changed my diaper. As I looked up at the ceiling, I saw a glimpse of a head of hair in a silhouette; out of curiosity, I tried to grab at it. My arms didn't go very far.

As they wiped my ass clean, the realization that my penis was gone finally sank in, and I screamed again—this time, though, I got a grip on the noise before it got too overbearing.

I was slowly lowered, and I squirmed around, lamenting the loss of body heat and warm skin-to-skin contact, before I could feel a soft lump slap my mouth. I looked down and saw another baby blinking and yawning.

As I stared at this other infant, I could see what looked like bulging silver eyes staring back at me. I slapped her (I couldn't actually tell at the time what the gender of the infant was, but that doesn't matter) in the mouth in retaliation, and the other infant started to cry. I didn't want our clearly-overstressed parents to worry, though, so before her sniffles got louder, I toddled (well, wiggled) my way towards her and tried my best to rub her mouth, hoping that she would get the hint to be quieter. I could feel her mouth move across my hand and I babbled the most soothing noises I could, and eventually the sniffling gave way to sounds of curiosity. She slapped my hand together between her hands, and while I was annoyed at this, her excited babbling made me giggle and I tumbled into a heap next to her.

While I didn't quite realize it at the time, I'm the younger twin sister of Luna freaking Lovegood.

Oh boy.

I passed the time between infancy and childhood doing various mental exercises, primarily to keep my memory intact, but also to gauge the physical and mental fitness of this new body. For a few months, I was focused on relearning the ability to speak, and then shortly after mastering it I realized that it would have seemed suspicious to somehow burst out babbles of Shakespearean sonnets (of which I deeply regretted not memorizing), so I waited for my sister and followed her progression. Even though our parents kept encouraging us to both speak, I adamantly refused to speak before Luna did. I paced myself to match Luna's progression, albeit a little better, and our parents seemed pleased regardless.

Xenophilius and Pandora Lovegood (and geez, weren't those mouthfuls to say?) were very proud, but very exhausted parents of twin daughters.

I was adamant to have one thing from my previous life, and given the family I was born in, I knew there wasn't much of a chance of being a basketball player. Luna, as I recalled, did artistic works on her bedroom walls in the story, and I didn't want to take that from her. (I couldn't remember if she was actually any good at it, but I figured that it didn't really matter, since I wasn't, either.) With the chance of being a software developer equally shunted (although that was definitely something I wanted to look into, if the muggle world developed the same as it would in the future I lived), I knew there was really only one thing for me to do: somehow acquire a musical instrument.

Conveniently, my mother and I walked along London one day to pick up ingredients from Diagon Alley for a potion she was designing, and I managed to pick out a street performer busking with a guitar. I tugged insistently at her sleeve. She looked at me, and I pointed to the guitar. She looked at the guitar, back to me, then back to the guitar, with a confused look that quickly turned into a horrified realization.

"Stella, honey, we don't have the money for that," she said quietly, so as not to break the music.

"Maybe another one?" I asked her, trying my best to make my three-year-old voice turn timid, which was surprisingly difficult given the lack of volume control. "Maybe something else?"

"We'll see," she said, smiling. I think she was just happy I was talking; I was a very quiet toddler, even though everyone knew I could talk. Then again, Luna babbled a lot, so maybe she was relieved I didn't talk a lot? I didn't know.

She almost bought me a cheap, plastic toy accordion. She said she was joking, but I don't think she was—it was cute, child-proof, and most importantly dirt cheap. Instead, we compromised; since a high-quality guitar was prohibitively expensive, she bought a cheap, rickety ukulele from a muggle pawn shop, and told me that if I practiced hard enough they would try to get me a 'real instrument'.

I think I surprised the hell out of them when I learned to play the instrument to the same standard as my old life. I did have to take it slowly, but I was aching to play some of the old songs I knew, so I accelerated my own learning and pretended to be a musical prodigy. Sadly, many of them were Hawaiian, which would have been horribly out of place in wizarding Britain for several reasons, so I stuck to fiddling with chord progressions and covers of Beatles songs (which, despite being a muggle band, was just famous enough that I could pass it off as idle curiosity). My determination at a young age ended up making me better at the ukulele than I ever was in my old life, which felt really nice.

Luna, unfortunately, had zero aptitude or interest in musical instruments, which was sad. I tried to teach her, but she never did sit still enough to try. Admittedly, I'm an awful teacher, but still. She enjoyed listening to me play, which was fine, but she never seemed interested in actually learning. Our parents joked that I got the gift for music, while Luna got the gift for adventure.

Luna not sitting still was exemplified by a situation that happened when we were around five years old.

Taking a walk outside, exploring the creek, was a pastime Luna and I had done ever since she could walk and express the interest to do so. When we were five, we were already old hands at walking to and from the creek, but one day Luna wanted to go farther out. She climbed a tree to presumably find a vantage point for which to scope out the area, and I was always close behind her, but I didn't feel like climbing the tree that day.

Anyway, long story short, she comes back down cradling an entire nest of Cornish pixies. She was insistent on raising them, and she might have actually convinced our parents had I not had a debilitating allergy to pixie dust.

Her apologetic face afterwards paled in comparison to the horrified look on her face when I started swelling up, and I resolved to never let her make that face again.

More importantly, and more relevantly, I found out later that Luna literally ran back and forth between the house and the forest about five times, just trying to keep herself calm. While my parents were trying to resuscitate me, which I don't think helped with their nerves.

Anyway, after having a healer check on me, I was given some potions and was instructed to stay in bed for several days. Luna, being Luna, kept me busy by giving me gifts from the forest, but very carefully did not bring pixie dust into the house, she was very adamant on that point.

I really just had to smile at Luna's dogged insistence in having me join her in everything she did, even as I was dying on the inside from my allergies. One thing I wished didn't carry over between bodies was my childhood proclivity to accumulate allergic reactions, but I figured I'd probably grow out of most of them again.

After that, Luna was always more careful around me, which was hilarious to me because I was always careful around her anyway, so it became a little game of who-catches-who-first before I finally just caved and pounced on her one day.

"St-Stella!" Luna said, surprised.

I quietly nuzzled my face into the back of her head. "I'm fine."

"But…"

"I'm fine." She turned her head to look at me. "If I'm not fine, you'll get help, and I'll do the same for you, OK?"

Luna stared at me for several seconds before nodding. "OK," she whimpered, and then turned around and hugged me back.

When we were five, around the same time as Luna's expedition, my mother made Floo-calls around the neighborhood, exploring options for babysitting. We weren't exactly naughty children, but one word often used to describe us was 'rambunctious'. I blame Luna for that.

Thankfully, the town of Ottery St. Catchpole was close by, and there were quite a few children roaming around, so Mum had a pretty extensive network of parents to Floo-call.

When we turned seven she decided to make another call, this time to the Weasleys nearby, and Mrs. Weasley was delighted to hear from her. Apparently she had picked up one of Mum's potions and it worked wonders for something or other.

Mum and Mrs. Weasley organized a playdate for us kids. The adult part of my brain was furious at this, because dealing with more kids was always going to be a nightmare, but the child part of my brain was extremely excited to meet more people, and since I was a child now, that part of my brain won out.

The only person more excited than me was Luna, who would not sit still, and kept asking about the playdate. Unlike myself, she didn't have the luxury of past memories to cope with the childish exuberance. Mum and Dad were exhausted from dealing with her, so it was usually up to me to control her.

When the day of the playdate came, though, neither of us would stop moving around in excitement, and Dad looked quietly distressed the whole time. It was honestly amusing. Mum just learned to roll with it.

While we could have Floo'd into the house, Mum insisted we apparate there, citing Floo-related accidents with children. Apparently, she trusted her apparition skills over the Floo system, which was odd because we had a Floo system in the first place, but I wasn't going to question Mum. Dad nodded, though, so apparently it was something they both agreed on?

I looked up in awe at the dilapidated building. The magic of duck tape construction seemed to hold true even here in the magical world; although the house itself looked worn down and close to falling apart, the fact that an entire family of nine (or more) could fit within its walls without breaking apart was a testament to the sheer magical fix-it skills afforded to the Weasleys.

"It's awesome," I told my parents, with all the severity of a seven-year-old. My mother smiled at me, clearly amused.

Luna, of course, quickly jumped up and down and ran up to the doorstep, knocking heavily.

A rotund woman opened the door, and her well-worn face looked amused as she looked at my sister, who continued to jump up and down. "Hello, who is this?" she asked.

"I'm Luna, um, I'm from down the street, um, we're from down the street, and we popped here, and, um, I really like your house!!!" Luna shouted at the end.

Thankfully, Mrs. Weasley rolled with it, the cumulative decades of child-rearing granting her the experience and patience necessary to deal with my sister. "Well, hello there, Luna!" she smiled. "I'm Mrs. Weasley. Now, where are your parents?"

"Oh, um—"

Luna turned around to find us, and we were directly behind her, but we were apparently not close enough, so she shouted, "Hurry up you guys! Mrs. Weasley's right here!!"

Dad actually face palmed as Mum laughed really hard. I listened to my sister and ran up to the doorstep.

"You didn't have to yell," I told her. "We're not that far off."

"You like her house too, shut up," she said, pouting.

Mum pulled at Luna's ear, and at Luna's outraged yelp of pain, whispered to her, "Don't tell your sister to shut up. That's rude."

Luna grumbled, but not for long, as the sounds from inside made themselves known, and she smiled in glee at the idea of playing with other kids.

The introverted part of me that carried over from my previous life wanted me to hide in a corner, shrivel up, and die, but since there were seven kids in the house I knew I had no chance. Luckily I was used to being extraverted for the sake of family, so I tucked in my big-girl shirt and strode forward with purpose and determination.

Well, metaphorically.

Okay, so I didn't move at all until my Mum pushed me into the house. Whatever, it still counts, okay?

That was how Luna and I met the entirety of the Weasley tribe: Arthur and Molly, two obviously loving parents struggling to make ends meet; Bill, the oldest and coolest; Charlie, the really big one who was so much into dragons it wasn't even funny; Percy, the strict, stoic one (who, judging from his panicked glances every time he was mentioned, made me feel like I had a kindred spirit in introversion); Fred and George, the hyperactive pranksters that I really didn't like and Luna loved to mess with; Ron, the quiet one with a huge appetite; and Ginny, who Luna bonded to almost immediately.

I think Mum really appreciated having someone who knew what it was like to raise identical twins, even if Mrs. Weasley was far more experienced in childrearing than Mum was. Dad enjoyed talking with Mr. Weasley, although I wasn't sure what it was about. I wasn't too fussed, since they both looked really engaged in the conversation.

I turned my attention to Luna and Ginny, who were apparently engaged in an imaginary exploration of the house as a new adventure, with Luna trying to discover new things and Ginny being the voice of reason ("no, Luna, that's not a...skiffer, or whatever, it's just a spatula!")

An exasperated Ron turned to me at roughly the same time. I looked at him in response, raising an eyebrow.

"Your sister's a nightmare," Ron said bluntly.

"I know, it's awesome," I said, smirking. "Now I'm not the only one who has to deal with it."

Ron rolled his eyes. "D'you reckon either of you play chess?"

"I'll play," I said, "but I'm not very good."

I did, in fact, beat him in the first game. His eyes went wide in surprise, but I had the advantage of several years of chess ahead of him.

Percy looked at the game board, and whistled. "Wow, beginner's luck?"

I shrugged, not willing to go into the whole 'second life' thing. "Probably?"

"Good thing you're here," Percy said, already turning to go into his room. "I already can't beat him consistently, he needs the challenge."

"Oh, wait," I said, trying to stand up. "Can I go up to your room?"

Percy stopped. "What?"

"What?" Ron echoed. "But I thought we were going to play again!"

"We can play in his room," I pointed out, but Percy was shaking his head.

"I'd rather not let people in," he said.

I sighed. "But it's probably quieter than out here," I said, pointing to my sister playing with Ginny, who was screeching at something Fred and George brought out. Luna looked like she was having fun, though, so I wasn't worried.

Percy followed my finger, and winced. "Well, point taken, but it's the principle of the matter." He looked like he wanted to justify himself more, but couldn't figure out the wording for a seven-year-old to understand.

I nodded. "Yeah, I get it. It's a safe space for you to go to when it gets hard to talk to people. Makes sense."

"I…" Percy blinked. "Yeah, how did you…?"

I turned to Ron, who was already setting up the chessboard for another round. "Okay," I said, letting the vowels sound out for longer, before sitting down and playing black against Ron's white. Our record was pretty evenly split, by the end of the day.

These meetings were a weekly thing, until...well, until Mum died.

Chapter Text

Two years after we first met the Weasley family, Luna and I were exploring around the house (well, Luna was exploring, and I was making sure she wasn't hurting herself) and we came across a box. An unassuming box, on the top of the kitchen counter, with our mother's name on it.

Luna, being Luna, wanted to open it. I at least had the foresight of stopping her from doing that, but Mum came up and startled us. Somehow, we nudged the box with her name on it off of the table.

Mum screamed as smoke flew out of the box. Luna screamed right after in response to Mum's fear; I just stood there, fascinated, as the smoke coalesced into a thick purple fog.

Mum pulled out her wand, and waved it around, moving the smoke away from Luna and I. I tried to grab Luna, who was stuck in place, frozen. Or maybe Luna tried to grab me; either way, one of us grabbed the other, and we hid underneath a chair, waiting for Mum to clear the smoke out of the room and give us some sort of all-clear signal.

She never did.

Luna and I both watched, transfixed, as Mum kept waving her wand around, muttering, then shouting arcane words I couldn't even begin to comprehend, even as her wandwork grew sloppy, even as her breath came out in harsh staccatos, even as she stumbled and slurred her words…

Mum died that day, in front of us, and we had no idea what to do.

I took off my shirt, covered my nose and mouth with it, then sprinted to the door, twisting the door handle and kicking the door open to let the gas escape. It didn't; it just festered there, growing thicker. I don't remember saying anything, but Luna ran up to me, and with a quick glance behind, we left the room.

A few hours later, Dad came into the house, looking ecstatic, then horrified at the sight of us, scuffed, torn clothes, and teary-eyed; Luna was crying the entire time, while I sat on the chair, mindlessly staring at the doorway with an, apparently, solemn expression.

Dad opened the door and yelled in grief.

We ended up having to call Aurors and magical experts from the Ministry of Magic to decontaminate the room. Mostly this was left to me, as Dad was almost comatose with his grief, and Luna was far too emotionally unstable to be of assistance.

It wasn't until they were finished cleaning out the room that I entered again, and I inwardly winced at the dirty plates and pots that covered the room.

"Well, it's definitely cleared," I muttered absently. Sure, the Ministry people cleaned the room of all the gunk, but they also threw a whole bunch of shit on the ground and didn't even bother cleaning it up.

I walked back out and sat down on the couch next to Luna, who was trying and failing to sleep there.

I laid down next to her, touching my face to hers, closing my eyes and listening to her choked breathing, wrapping my arms around her.

I heard heavy footsteps, a choked sigh, and then sobbing; I turned and opened my eyes to see Dad crying at the sight of both of us cuddling each other, kneeling forlornly on the floor. I waved him over and he easily went to embrace the two of us.

As Dad curled into both of us, sobbing, Luna also started sobbing, and our snuggle quickly became a family reconciliatory hug as I shifted my position to better accommodate the new conditions.

I didn't cry, though I mourned in my own way. Pandora was as good a Mum as any, but now that she was gone I needed to step up and take charge—Luna was still immature, although certainly old enough to understand the intricacies of death, and Dad was too overwrought with emotion to be capable, so I needed to be able to lead the family. It helped that I had a second life's worth of experience to even out my emotional state.

As Dad and Luna tuckered themselves out, I unfurled myself from the hug, stood up, and cleaned the dishes. After that, I walked towards the closet, and hesitated. On the one hand, playing an instrument would be fairly loud, and might wake them; on the other hand, I really wanted to play something. After a moment's deliberation, I opened the closet and pulled out my ukulele. Strumming it to make sure it was in the right tuning, I played various chords, working my fingers into the fretboard.

Carrying the instrument back into the room, I watched as Dad looked frantically around, before his eyes landed on me and he visibly relaxed, slumping over. I sat on the couch and began to play.

I tried to get them to come with me to the Weasley household, but, in their grief, they wouldn't budge. I Floo-called Mrs. Weasley instead and told her the situation.

Of course, being a mother herself, she instantly Floo'd over to our house and started cleaning up. Dad was still too out of it to care, and Luna didn't really leave her room all that much, so it was up to me to do the basic maintenance around the house, and there was no way I was doing that without some help.

It took two weeks before we had the house in a state fit to live in again. Mrs. Weasley was a godsend on that front. Dad popped in and out of rooms, quietly watching Mrs. Weasley and I clean up, but he never said anything, never did anything, and eventually he just left us to our devices.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," I told her. I think something in my voice startled her, since she jumped and turned to look at me.

Her eyes softened. "Oh, sweetie," she said, grabbing me for a hug. I blinked, and felt water trailing down my cheeks.

Oh. I was crying.

I was crying?

Why was I crying?

I sniffled, just a bit, just to clear my sinuses a bit, but that made it worse. I tried to pull out of the hug, so I could wipe my eyes, but Mrs. Weasley's grip was tight, so I just leaned into it instead, staining her blouse with tears and snot.

"'M s'rry," I muttered in her clothes. She hugged me tighter.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Mrs. Weasley said, comfortingly but insistently. "Nothing. You're a child, Stella, you should be playing, not…" She trailed off.

"But, Dad's still sad, and Luna's still sad, and I have to, I have to keep up the housework," I told her, through tears that kept flowing no matter how many times I wiped at them. "I can't be sad, I have to keep going…"

"You don't have to do any of that. I'm here, I'll take care of the housework for now," Mrs. Weasley said. "Your mother just passed away. It's OK to be sad." I think that's what I needed to hear, because I hugged her back, finally, and cried into her shirt.

I heard a muttered, "Stella…?" and turned back to see Dad looking at me, with a heartbroken and truly devastated expression. "You...for...us?"

Mrs. Weasley let me go, then, and I walked over to him, hugging him instead.

"I'm a terrible parent," Dad whispered into my ear, then harsher: "Fuck, I'm a terrible parent."

("Language, young man," Mrs. Weasley said, almost automatically.)

I shook my head, with an almost desperate intensity. "No, Dad, you're the best, you just need time, 'cause Mum died, and I just need to give you time, I just gotta do the work until you feel better, I just gotta—"

Dad interrupted me by hugging me back, twice as tightly.

"You shouldn't have to," he whispered harshly, and, oh, he was choking back tears. "You shouldn't, fuck, Stella, I'm your father."

It didn't make me feel less like a failure, though.

Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat, then. "Xeno, if...you need to take a break, we can watch over them for you."

"No," Dad said, softly, then cleared her throat. "No, I just…"

I tried to interrupt him, tell him about my "second life", tell him about my mental maturity, tried to do something to explain why I was so...me.

I couldn't get out the words. I just sobbed into his shirt.

"I'm their father," Dad said. "I should...I should get around to being that."

Dad took up the efforts of planning a funeral. I was glad, in a morbid sort of way, that I didn't have to plan it. Naturally, I would have had to eventually, but at the age I was currently at, it wasn't an idea I wanted to consider. I also didn't know anyone in our extended family, or any of Mum's friends except Mrs. Weasley.

I think the routine action of cleaning really helped Luna, though, giving her something to distract from her sadness.

All together, it took about a month to finish cleaning and repainting, where the house needed it, but I was proud of the end result. A month later, we held the funeral in our backyard; there wasn't much to bury, at that point, since the gunk corroded my mother's body, but there was enough to have it be slightly more than a symbolic gesture.

It was a peaceful, somber affair, with the entire Weasley family in attendance and dressed in black, as well as some of our parents' work friends. It also wasn't very long, which was nice—we had a person say a speech, and then Dad said a speech, and then she went in the hole, Luna and I put the first bits of dirt on top, and Dad and some other people put the rest of the dirt on.

All in all, very simple. Sad, but meaningful.

I turned to Luna to express that thought, but she looked annoyed and upset with me before I even said anything. I didn't really know why, but I figured she would tell me eventually. A few days later, she didn't seem upset with me at all, so it was probably something about the day that got to her, which was, y'know, reasonable, since it was Mum's funeral.

After the funeral, and when everyone left, it was just the three of us.

"We're going to look for crumple-horned Snorkacks!" my father said, with a manic light in his eyes. He pulled out a magazine; I noticed the title of the magazine, the Quibbler, before he opened it to an article about the crumple-horned Snorkack.

Luna, at least, looked excited, and so we went to Sweden to look, or something.

We made it to Sweden in the absolutely frigid weather, which didn't please me at all since I was more used to warmer temperatures from my entire previous life. Luckily I was somewhat more used to colder temperatures from the last few years, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Checking into a small log cabin in the middle of nowhere, I put my stuff with Luna in one room, while Dad claimed another room. We didn't even have time to rest from the trip before Dad got us all out of the house, on the hunt for Snorkacks.

We spent the next three days barely eating, barely getting enough sleep, and I decided enough was enough after Luna nearly passed out from a simple walk.

"Dad," I said, and he turned to me so fast I was surprised he didn't get whiplash. I touched him on the shoulder, and he gave a full-body flinch so hard I also jumped with him.

Right, this was getting ridiculous.

I gave my father a big hug. "We're still alive, Dad. It's OK."

I didn't hear anything from him for a while, except his breathing, but after a little while it turned shallow and ragged. I patted his back, and I could feel the back of my top getting wet.

"It's OK," I repeated. "You're doing your best. Luna and I understand."

I vaguely noticed that he was mumbling, "I'm sorry," over and over again.

I saw Luna approach me, looking mildly confused but mostly horrified, and she hugged his back, and me by extension. Dad let out a cry, a loud wail directly in my ear. I naturally winced, but tilted my head so I wasn't directly listening to him.

After he calmed down a little, I asked him, "So can we go home now?"

"The Snorkack," Dad tried to explain, but I wasn't having any of it.

"Dad, Luna's going to pass out soon," I said bluntly, hating the way Luna looked at me, almost with a look of betrayal. I wasn't wrong, though; Luna's glare was tempered with her exhaustion and I already couldn't muster up the energy to care. "We need to eat, we need to sleep, and frankly we need you to be a father."

Dad winced at my verbal jab, and before he could say anything, I glared at him. "You promised."

He immediately deflated.

After a warm and hearty meal in the cabin, Dad told us that we were, in fact, going home. I was pleased, even if Luna wasn't, but at the rate we were going Dad would've self-destructed long before either of us did. Also, we were barely ten years old at the time.

"Why were we even here, in the first place?" I had to ask him, after we packed our stuff.

"Your mother," my dad explained. "She really believed in the existence of mythical creatures like the Snorkack. I thought, if we went on a trip looking for it, we could have a little piece of her with us."

"That's stupid," I told him to his face. I was reasonably sure that Mum only told us that kind of stuff as bedtime stories.

Luna punched me in the face. "You're stupid!"

I sat there, dumbfounded, as Luna yelled at me. "You're a jerk, Stella! Dad took us on a trip with him! To Sweden! He tried his best to connect with us through Mum! One problem and you're ready to just abandon that?!"

"You were going to die, Luna," I said. I did not yell at her. I simply got a little louder, that's all.

"So what?! You wouldn't have cared, anyway!" Luna grit her teeth, tears pooling at the sides of her eyes. "You didn't even cry when Mum died, you asshole!"

That broke something in me, and I spent several moments just blankly staring at her. Luna noticed and stopped yelling at me. I vaguely heard her say something, and I noticed that Dad got up from where he was sitting to tell Luna something, but I didn't hear it, thinking entirely of the words she said before.

Was...that true? Did I really not care so much about my mother in this life? Was it because of my nature as a reincarnation? But...she was so kind to me. Nothing against my parents in my previous life, but that was a lifetime ago, and I shouldn't be dwelling on that, anyway.

I vaguely recognized my face becoming damp, but I continued to stare blankly ahead, not really registering anything in my sight.

My mother—Pandora—she was a good mother. I think Luna was right. I think I should have tried to connect with her more. I think…

I think something might be wrong with me.

I stopped my train of thought and collapsed to the floor, letting out huge, heaving sobs, my body wracked with the guilt and sorrow I felt inside. I heard both Dad and Luna exclaim something in surprise, and they ran to me.

"I'm—I'm sorry," I tried to say through my tears. "I'm so—sorry, Mum."

I felt arms, bodies, embracing me, and I tried to feel them, to ground myself, but I think I'd been grieving for so long, holding it back too long, and letting it out overwhelmed me.

Anyway, I passed out.

I woke up in my bed at home. I tried to move and realized Luna was sleeping next to me.

As much as I appreciated the gesture, I really needed to pee. So I climbed over her, being careful not to wake her up, and headed to the bathroom.

After finishing my morning ablutions, I headed to the kitchen and started making breakfast; we had bacon and eggs in the refrigerator, and I could make those pretty easily, so I started cooking enough for three.

...I guessed. I mean, I'm not a good chef, so I kind of just eyeballed it, but hey. I can make bacon and eggs, at least.

Two cartons of eggs and five packets of bacon later, I realized I had no idea how much food fed three people. I only burned half of it, though, so I figured I did a good job.

I attempted to plate them properly for Dad and Luna, and was getting to my plate when Dad came down, yawning.

"Oh, good morning, Stella. That smells go—," he started to say, and then looked at the kitchen. "Uhhhhh…"

"Hi, Dad," I said, feeling sheepish. "I tried making bacon and eggs. Don't touch the stuff in the gold pan, that's burnt."

"...how did you even get eggs on the ceiling?" Dad finally said.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Despite my warning, Dad touched the stuff in the gold pan. It crumbled immediately. "It's...it's literally just bacon charcoal."

"I said not to touch it," I grumbled, feeling my face turn hot with embarrassment.

"Stella," Dad said, but he didn't sound disappointed or angry, just...amused and bewildered. "How do you even…no, never mind. Thanks for the breakfast."

"I hope it turned out well," I said, in lieu of anything else. Dad came over and kissed my forehead, then went to sit down and eat.

Before I had the opportunity to clean up, Luna came down, stumbling down the stairs and panting heavily. "St—," she started to say, then noticed Dad and I sitting down. "Stella," she said, relieved.

"Hi, Luna, I tried making breakfast for you," I said, moving food around in my mouth enough to speak.

"Don't eat with your mouth full," Dad reprimanded me. I ducked my head in apology.

"Oh, thanks, Stella. It looks—," and then Luna noticed the rest of the kitchen. "Um. Uh."

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "Yes, I know."

"Is that egg on the ceiling?"

"Yeah," Dad confirmed.

"What's in the pan?"

"Bacon charcoal in the gold one. I think the blue one is just undercooked bacon."

"Um. OK. So, first question—"

"I don't know," I groaned out. "I tried my best, OK?!"

"...maybe you shouldn't cook unless one of us is there," Dad said, smiling in amusement. Luna just laughed.

Chapter Text

Dad, Luna, and I all walked towards the Burrow. We had apparated some distance away, and walked up to their doorstep so they would know we were there. Luna knocked.

I could faintly hear Ron's voice echoing through the door. "...the Lovegoods, they're really weird though, but they should be here any minute now."

Luna and I looked at each other and smirked.

I kicked the door open and shouted, "You're goddamn right we're weird!!"

"Weirdest family in the country, woo!!" Luna cheered, storming in.

Luna instantly veered towards Ginny, and then glomped her. I strolled up to Ron and hugged him from behind. Ron stumbled, but just shifted a bit and gamely let me hang over his back. Ron was noticeably taller than me, but not by that much.

"Anyway, Harry, these are the Lovegoods. This one's Stella," Ron said, poking a thumb in my side, which made me flinch and let go of him with a giggle. "The other one is Luna. Obviously, they're twins, but they're Ginny's age so they're also starting this year."

I picked myself off the floor and dusted my hand off on my dress. I turned to the boy in glasses and I tried to look as serious as I could. "Hi. Stella."

Harry looked bewildered, but shook my hand anyway. "...Harry."

I nodded at him, then turned to Ron, a wide grin on my face. "So! This is the year I beat you at chess!"

Ron rolled his eyes with a laugh. "Doubt it!"

"A-ha!" I shouted, pointing at him victoriously. "While you were off at school, I was studying chess grandmasters! Muggle ones! I'll definitely beat you this time!"

Ron just grinned. "We'll see about that!"

I held no illusions that I could beat him, of course, because I definitely didn't study chess grandmasters, but it was really the only thing Ron and I could relate to, so I made it a point to mention it every time we met. Also, I did genuinely like chess. I just wasn't good at it.

Mrs. Weasley came to investigate the noise, bowl and whisk in her arms, and looked delighted at Luna and I. "Oh, hello there, girls!"

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Luna and I chorused, with Luna's voice being significantly cheerier than my own (not to say that I wasn't pleased to see her, but Luna was just even more pleased.) 

"Breakfast is almost ready, so go on, take your seats." Mrs. Weasley waved us into the house.

Dad lingered at the doorway a little longer than usual, then tipped his head and turned to walk away. Before he could, Luna and I tackle-hugged him.

"Oh, alright," Dad said, amused, before leaning down to hug us. "Be good, okay? I'll see you over the winter hols."

"Love you, Dad," I had to say, since this was really the first time since Mum died that we were away from him.

Dad froze at my words. "Ah—you don't have to go now, do you? We can wait a—"

"Dad, we're not waiting a year," Luna said, looking mildly annoyed.

"We'll be fine, Dad, I'll make sure Luna doesn't get into trouble."

"Hey! Who says I'm the one that's gonna get into trouble?"

Dad laughed at our back-and-forth, and if it was a little wobbly with concern, well, none of us commented on it. After a while, though, I broke the embrace by ducking under his arm.

"Go to work, Dad, we'll be fine." I smiled at him.

He smiled back, hesitantly. He turned to Mrs. Weasley (and Mr. Weasley, who came out to greet us) and gave them a nervous nod, then turned and walked away.

Luna and I looked at each other, then walked into the Weasley house, hand in hand.

"All right, now, one more time, where are we headed?"

"Platform nine and three-quarters!" Ginny and Luna cheered. I looked around to make sure that nobody noticed us. I saw a few heads turn, but they looked like wizards themselves, so I considered that a success.

Dad and Mr. Weasley continued to chat with each other, leaving Mrs. Weasley as the only sane adult. I felt bad for her, especially since her twins were such annoyances, so I tried to rein in Luna and Ginny as best as I could.

This was easier said than done, since Ginny had to wait literally her entire life to board the train, despite having been to the platform every year since her birth, and Luna just loved adventure. Both of their excitement, together, was palpable.

A muggle family came up to us, looking harried and lost, and the little girl in front came up to us. "Um—excuse me—did you say…?"

I noted the wagon filled with a trunk, a cage containing a dark brown owl, and suitcases, and I poked at Mrs. Weasley. She looked at me, and then looked at the girl, and then looked at her family, and then brightened. "Oh, hello, dear! Going to Hogwarts, too, then?"

"Ah—yes," the father said, straightening his tie. "It's just—nine and three-quarters, really?"

"Well, what better place to hide than right under the muggles' noses?" Mrs. Weasley said rhetorically, then smiled. "I'm Molly Weasley, by the way, just call me Molly."

"Muggle, that's a bit rude, innit?" the father said, clearly flustered. "Ah, well, I'm, my daughter here…"

"Ah, a Muggle family," Mrs. Weasley nodded sagely. "Well, come on, then, follow along. Watch my son Percy, here. Percy!"

"Got it, Mum," Percy said, walking, prim and proper, through the wall. Both of the Muggle parents' eyes widened in surprise, while the daughter squeaked in surprise.

"I—through the wall, really?" The Muggle family was clearly still in shock, and Mrs. Weasley managed to shove the rest of her family in while I wasn't paying attention.

Luna poked me. I turned to her, and she grinned. "Ready?"

I nodded. Determination filled my veins as I marched forward, nearly arm-in-arm with my twin sister, pushing our carts forward together as we did everything in life.

Passing through the wall was...an experience. While it wasn't our first time through, it was our first time through as Hogwarts students, incumbent though we may have been. It was still interesting enough to comment on, which I did to a smiling Luna. She laughed.

"I guess it was an adventure of its own, huh?" She smiled back at me.

"Short adventure," I muttered.

Luna grinned. "Not all adventures are epic!"

The girl from earlier stumbled out of the wall and nearly crashed into us. Thankfully, I moved out of the way just enough for the wagon to pass us harmlessly.

"Oh, you managed it!" Luna said, excited, before running off to, presumably, talk with Ginny.

The new girl looked extremely shocked. I tried to help out by maneuvering her wagon a bit to the side, so others could pass through; she followed along without much fanfare.

"Um—what's your name?" the little girl said.

"It's polite to say your own name first," I said.

"Oh, uh, I'm Emily. Uh, Emily McAbee." She held out a hand and I shook it.

"Stella Lovegood."

"Oh, not Weasley?" She suddenly started stammering, "N-not that there's anything wrong with that or anything it's just, I thought she was your mum or something and it was just—"

I held up a hand. She stopped talking. I couldn't quite hide the amused smile from my face. "It's fine, and no, we're just neighbors. You can tell who the Weasleys are because they're all redheads. We just figured it would be more convenient to go with them."

"Oh." Emily's face burned scarlet. "Sorry."

"It's fine," I said, waving her off. "We weren't the only ones with them."

As Emily's parents passed through the wall, I walked away, ignoring the sounds of surprise coming from her family.

I met up with my sister, who was excitedly talking with an amused Ginny about something. "Hey, Luna."

"Stella!" Luna lit up with glee at my presence. It made me feel pretty good about being her sister. "Look at that guy! Doesn't he just look like a nargle nest?!"

I turned my eyes to see someone's father or grandfather give a little boy a big hug. His hair was completely astray, as if he simply didn't take care of his hair, or if he was haggard and rushed. It could've also been a fashion statement. I didn't know and I didn't feel comfortable enough to judge.

I turned back to Luna and pinched her cheek. "Don't be rude," I told her, ignoring her complaints.

Luna rubbed her cheek. "Sorry. But it totally looks like one, right?!"

I shrugged. "Dunno. I've never seen one."

Luna looked at me with a face of disgust, clicking her tongue against her teeth as if I was a colossal disappointment. "Don't you even read the Quibbler?"

I snorted. "Joke's on you, I can't read."

Luna grabbed my cheek and pulled on it. "Jerk."

I snickered under my breath as I rubbed the spot that she pulled on.

Emily caught up to us, looking remarkably out of place. I whispered to her, "Hey, just look like you belong here, 'cause you do. You got a Hogwarts letter, right?"

Emily looked at me in surprise and confusion, but then quickly looked determined. She still looked out of place, but hey, I couldn't fix everything.

I introduced her to Luna, and Emily got a full-dose of the Luna Lovegood Experience. That is, by the time we entered our cabin (carriage?), Emily looked politely bewildered and exhausted. I tried and failed to suppress a smile.

"Stella," Luna asked as we sat down. "What if we're in different houses?"

I rolled my eyes at her question. "Luna, we're twins. I live with you. What difference does it make?"

"But, are we going to be able to see each other?" Luna sounded so worried that I hastily stifled my snort of amusement. So cute.

"If you want to, then sure," I assured her. "But you might have friends, other friends, and I don't want to be your only choice, okay?" Luna didn't look convinced, but I persisted. "Like Ginny. She's in our year too, you know?" Luna sniffed, and nodded. "She's your friend, too. Trust me, Luna, you're not alone."

"But I wanna be in your house," Luna cried. I suddenly had an armful of a crying sister, so I tried my best to hug her even though it was incredibly awkward.

"Look, Luna, whatever happens, happens." I patted her on the shoulder. "Don't fuss over it."

Emily looked very concerned at the mention of houses. I noticed, and elbowed Luna softly. "Why don't you explain the houses?"

"Huh?" Luna looked at Emily, still sniffling a little. "Oh, um."

As Luna told Emily about the Hogwarts houses, I took the chance to look out the window, watching the Express chug along to Scotland. It brought back memories of the Shinkansen and the Shanghai Mag-Lev trains, except the Hogwarts Express was significantly slower in speed to both of them.

The trolley lady came and went, the three of us trying out wizarding snacks, mostly for Emily's sake. She let go of a chocolate frog and it hopped away, and after about half a minute of not-really-trying-to-find-it, we gave up and just kept eating other stuff.

Ginny entered the cabin a little while later, a bushy-haired girl in tow. "Hey, have either of you guys seen—oh, hello, I didn't see you there, what's your name?"

"Um, I'm, um, Emily," she said, hesitantly.

"I'm Ginny, nice to meet you, have any of you seen Ron or Harry?"

I looked at Luna, she looked at me, we both glanced at Emily who looked baffled, then we looked at Ginny. "Nope."

"They weren't with you?" I asked them, fully knowing the answer.

"No!" Hermione—I knew she was Hermione—shouted, then sighed. "Sorry, I just—it just—we were supposed to—"

"Did you see them at all?" Ginny continued.

"I haven't seen either of them since we left your house," Luna said, and I nodded in agreement.

Ginny groaned. "Well, darn it. I thought if anyone knew where Ron was, it would've been one of you."

"Why Ron, specifically?" I asked, confused.

"Well, 'cause—" Ginny started to say, but then Luna went and covered her mouth.

"Ssh! Ssh! Never mind!" Luna said, turning red. Was she embarrassed? By what?

"...well, you're welcome to join us, if you'd like," I said, offering them a pixie stick.

Ginny took it. Hermione shook her head. "Well, thank you, but we have a spot."

I shrugged. I didn't really care either way.

They left, and I was left with my sister and Emily, who were whispering about a Chocolate Frog card. I joined them, and together we talked about nothing and everything.

A prefect came by to warn us about arrival, so we changed into our robes. I had to turn around and not look at anyone, partially because I didn't feel very comfortable changing in front of someone I barely knew, and partially because I was at one point an adult man. Unfortunately, this was a boarding school, so I had to get used to it to a certain extent.

Eventually, we arrived, and we exited the train, meeting up with Ginny and Hermione on the way out.

"Still no sign of them?" I knew they were fine, but Hermione looked really worried over it.

She shook her head negative. "What if they missed it? Or something worse?"

"I doubt that they'll be punished very harshly," I said, shrugging. "One of them's Harry Potter, after all; there's a certain amount of leeway that comes with the title."

Hermione frowned, but didn't get a chance to reply.

"First years! First years over here!" the gamekeeper called out. I waved to Hermione as we walked towards him. Luckily, he was huge, so it wasn't that hard to see him.

I managed to finagle my way around so that the four of us were in the same boat. The gamekeeper pushed us forward, and we coasted into the riverbank.

The castle was amazing, in all its glory.

To spite Luna, though, I just pretended to be really bored of the whole thing.

"Are we there yet?" I muttered to her.

She turned sharply to me. "Shut up."

I grinned at her, and slowly she realized I was joking, and playfully swatted me on the arm. "Prat."

"So, um, Harry Potter," Emily spoke up, quietly. "Is he...like the books?"

Ginny sighed as Luna immediately cracked up, while I simultaneously said, "Not even a little bit."

"Which ones have you read?" Ginny said, which started an impromptu discussion on the merits and flaws of the Harry Potter books.

The conversation lasted for the entire boat ride, which was kind of annoying since I really didn't care about them. I thought the writing was actually terrible, which was completely contrary to the number of sales the book series had, but on the other hand the world-building was interesting enough that it left me wanting to read more. Ginny and Emily, of course, absolutely loved the books, and Luna was pretty much the ambivalent voice of reason in this conversation, which. Well. The fact that Luna was the voice of reason really said a lot about the contents of the discussion.

"Anyway, I think we can agree that they're completely ridiculous," I said, finishing the conversation. "We're here, though."

I pointed out the dock, and the girls turned to look.

Emily looked ready to throw up. Ginny just looked impressed. "That was fast."

"Yeah," Luna said, turning to me. "You ready?"

"Let's go," I said, putting the hood of my robe up. It wasn't raining at all, but I felt more comfortable with the fabric around my head, so I did so.

Luna smiled and took my hand. I squeezed it back.

We walked into the castle, being greeted by Professor McGonagall, who introduced herself to us. We were also greeted by some ghosts, and shrieks of fear and surprise bubbled up amongst us. Emily looked even more nervous, and I put my hand on her back in solidarity, which she looked like she appreciated.

Finally, we got to the Great Hall, where the Sorting Hat was already brought out. It did its customary song, which I admit to not paying any attention to and thus can't recall, and then the Sorting officially started.

I instead cast my eyes to the Gryffindor table. As expected, neither Ron nor Harry were there, but I did see Hermione there, nervously looking around and sipping from a cup of water.

"Lovegood, Luna," Professor McGonagall announced, and I subtly squeezed her hand. She strode forward, and I watched her, praying under my breath that she would be happy wherever she went.

Luna sat there, under the hat, mouth scrunched up. She looked, frankly, like she was constipated. After a minute, the hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

Amid the clapping, I was quietly shocked. I knew that she went there the first time, but I had thought her personality was so radically different now that she would have gone to Gryffindor or something.

"Lovegood, Stella," Professor McGonagall announced, and I steeled myself and walked forward.

As the hat was placed on my head, I could hear a voice echo in my head. "Oh, my… my… isn't this interesting?"

"All else equal, hat, I'd like to go to Ravenclaw," I muttered to the hat.

"Oh? Not Slytherin?" the hat enquired, and I scowled.

"You know damn well why Slytherin would be a terrible choice," I hissed below my breath back to the hat, who hemmed and hawed.

"You would do well in Slytherin, you know; you certainly have the ambition for it," the hat replied. My scowl grew, because the hat knew exactly why that would be a bad idea. 

"Yes, your family does tend to stick out, and your father's magazine certainly isn't doing anyone favors," the hat continued, reading my mind. "And, yes, your unfortunate...secret." I'm pretty confident in the hat's ability to understand what kind of actual mortal peril I'd be in were I placed into Slytherin at this time, especially if sixth year continues the same as it did in the story.

"I genuinely think you have the potential to change Slytherin house for the better," the hat continued, but I mentally scoffed. The hat clearly overestimates my willpower. "And I think you underestimate your willpower. But, alas, you're right—I couldn't send you to Salazar, especially not now, not with the end so close, as your mind seems to insinuate. Plus, as much as I'd like to see the house reformed—you genuinely don't need Slytherin as much as it needs you. Very well, then—far too ambitious for Slytherin, far too reckless for Gryffindor, far too dedicated for Hufflepuff—it must be RAVENCLAW!"

I wiped my face of any emotion at the hat's loud declaration, and made my way next to my sister, who was enthusiastically clapping for me. She looked at me as I took my spot next to her, tilting her head and asking, "Why did it take so long?"

"The hat wanted me in Slytherin," I whispered to her. "Obviously I refused."

"Oh, it offered me Gryffindor," Luna said in reply. "I didn't want to take it because I knew there was no way you could be a Gryffindor."

I sharply look at her. "Excuse me?!" I hiss out in reply, making a few heads turn to me, but then the next person was sorted and the clapping distracted them from our conversation. "You would have done great in Gryffindor, and you ruined it because of me?! Did you really not stop to think how awful that would make me feel?!" Luna looked sufficiently abashed that I really didn't want to continue with my words, but I had to say it: "And what about Ginny? What is she going to do when she doesn't get sorted into the same house as her best friend? How do you think she'll feel when she finds out you actively refused to join her in Gryffindor?"

"Well..." Luna looked ashamed, but she shrugged. "As much as I love Ginny, she's not you."

I could not have rolled my eyes any harder than I did at that moment.

"Besides," she continued. "Do you really think you'd do well without me?"

I glared at her, wordless for all of ten seconds, then put my head in my hands. "God damn it, you're right, I just didn't want you to say it."

Luna looked ridiculously smug.

We missed the person after us, but "McAbee, Emily!" was sorted with a proud "GRYFFINDOR!" and we clapped politely along. She turned to look at us in surprise and more than a little hesitation, but I gave her a thumbs-up gesture and Luna smiled at her, and that seemed to give her enough determination to walk forward with her head held high.

Chapter Text

Ravenclaw Tower was extremely spooky. Luna loved it. Hell, I loved it, and I wasn't nearly as adventurous as Luna. The entire castle was honestly just one big exploratory haunt and Luna couldn't stop herself from being super excited. It was dampened a bit by the notices that we weren't allowed to explore past certain hours, but the time she had to explore made her excited.

Ravenclaw's entrance had the infamous riddles which, thankfully, weren't actually too hard. As an adult in a child's body, it was literally child's play to figure them out. I assumed they took into account the individual answerer's physical age when delivering the riddles, which was convenient, made sense, and saved me getting asked a lot of questions.

My room-mates were, besides Luna, some seemingly nice girls whose names I couldn't remember, and their names weren't written down anywhere, so I elected to think of them as "Curly" and "Tiny" until proven otherwise. This was a much better state of affairs than the boy's dormitories, of whom I knew nobody.

I also don't really remember who my prefects were, although that one's on them; why on Earth they'd decided to schedule an orientation after dinner, when I (and presumably other first-years) was single-mindedly focusing on sleeping and basically nothing else, was beyond me.

Anyway, we started off our school day getting ready for classes. After a quick shower, Luna and I took turns brushing each other's hair, which was more annoying for me since I always kept my hair cropped short. Luna's hair was always much, much longer. It was a habit we'd done for years, since she was always pretty lethargic when she woke up, and I generally wanted to make sure she was at least presentable. 

Having straw-like, wavy blonde hair didn't really help with the brushing situation, so I grabbed some lavender oil and tried to rub it into her hair to smooth it out a bit. I knew it didn't really matter since it was just going to morph back into a wavy mess later in the day, but it was worth a shot. Plus Luna now smelled like lavenders, so I considered it a win.

Luna made sure my hair was nice and smooth, as well, even though it was also going to pop into a mess later, but it was always the morning ablutions that were important to get yourself ready in the morning.

Curly and Tiny woke up shortly after we finished brushing, and after greeting each other, Luna and I walked down to breakfast as they got ready for the day.

"Miss Lovegood, why are you not adhering to the correct dress code?" Professor McGonagall said sternly, looking down at me through her glasses.

I looked down at myself, then at Luna, who also looked baffled. "Does it matter? You can't see below my waist," I said.

"The dress code is there for a reason," the professor started to say, and I immediately tuned it out with the ease of lots of practice and a lack of interest.

Something about points taken from Ravenclaw? I couldn't bring myself to care.

Eventually Professor McGonagall turned away with a huff, and Luna tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to her and she whispered, "You just lost twenty points and she's expecting you to change."

I huffed, a quiet laugh. Luna at least understood that I wasn't paying any attention.

Luna correctly interpreted my laugh, and resignedly shook her head. "We're going to have to apologize to Ravenclaw House by the end of the week," she whispered with a grin.

I shrugged. It was hard to take such a silly system seriously, having never grown up in it, and I had no reason to follow the arbitrary rules. As a Lovegood, it was already expected for Luna and I to be eccentric, and I had no interest in changing that perception.

The class began without further delay, and eventually Professor McGonagall told us to start working on the practical bit.

"That's not how you do it," Professor McGonagall said sternly, looking down at me through her glasses. "Try it again, Miss Lovegood."

I sighed, rolled my eyes, did the thing, and the matchstick stubbornly refused to become a needle.

Luna looked over with concern, even as some of the class laughed at me. I looked at the Professor; she looked back at me with the same nonchalance I felt.

One of my classmates said, "She's a Squib, what's she doing here?" to general laughter of my classmates, and before the Professor could snap at them, I slammed my hand on the desk. Locking eyes with the boy (a Slytherin, by the looks of it), I raised the matchstick towards him, then slid it through my hand.

Where a matchstick went in, a needle came out.

The class and even the professor looked surprised, but Luna and I both knew that I practiced that trick back at home for years. Out of boredom, and with the encouragement of our mother, we worked on our wandless magic years before we had wands. I was honestly better without a wand than with one, but Dad bought us wands from Ollivander's so I figured it would be a waste to not use it, even though it made things a lot more difficult.

"That doesn't really help with the wand part, though," I said, putting my hands in my hair and groaning.

Luna's matchstick was at least turning silver, which was far better than what I managed. I turned to her, and she shrugged. "I'm just doing the thing."

"I also did the thing, it didn't work," I groaned again.

Luna hummed, looking at my matchstick, which I turned back into one with casual ease, then she suggested, "Why not do the thing backwards?"

I looked at her, thinking, what the hell is that going to do? But I tried it anyway and the matchstick sharpened, although it didn't turn silver.

I slammed my head on the desk, groaning. "Why did that work?!"

Luna grinned. "Yeah, I noticed that earlier. It's kinda, like, almost perfectly backwards from how we learned it."

Professor McGonagall gave both of us an approving glance. "Good work, both of you; keep it up."

"It's the small things, though," Luna continued to explain to me, as she flicked her wand at the silver matchstick. "Like, there's a certain amount of pressure you need to apply to the wand, so don't hold it too tight, and the components have to come from the way the wand moves, since, y'know, wands don't have muscles." The matchstick in front of her sharpened with each flick.

I sighed and went back to my own matchstick. Flicking my wrist and centering my mind, I found that the matchstick looked almost exactly like a needle on that try.

I picked it up and inspected it, noticing that the color was more of a gray than a silver, then frowned, glaring at the thing. "That's so stupid, though."

Luna blinked at me. "How'd you get it so fast?"

"You really have to focus on the end result, rather than the process," I told her. "It's like...you're trying to reverse the process we do it at, so instead of dealing with the how, you have to focus on the what." I shrugged. "We focus on molding the thing in our hands, but in this case it's more just 'let it happen'."

"Wow, that must be aggravating for you," Luna mused idly as she flicked her wand out again. It was a perfect needle, and Luna flicked her wand several times, flipping the needle back into a matchstick and vice-versa.

I groaned again at Luna's words, because it really was.

"Excellent work," the Professor said, approvingly. "Twenty points to Ravenclaw, both of you."

Luna beamed at me. I was just sick of this class already.

"Wingardium Leviosa," I said, carefully tracing out the spell onto the feather in front of me.

It shot up and embedded itself, pointy end down, directly into the ceiling. Professor Flitwick paused in helping out another student and turned to me, gaze flicking between me and the feather in the ceiling.

Luna looked up and giggled. "How in the world did you do that?"

I put my face into my free hand. Wands were not worth the hassle, really.

Professor Snape was, quite frankly, a terrible teacher.

The less I say about that particular nightmare of a class, the better.

(Potion-brewing really is a lot like cooking, when it comes down to it.)

Walking into the Great Hall for dinner, I looked around to find someone I knew. It was fairly empty, with only a few people I could see. I noticed Tiny was eating alone, but she looked like she was studying intensely, so I didn't want to bother her. On the other side of the hall was the Gryffindor table, which was surprisingly crowded, but I did see Emily eating on her own as well, so I elected to join her.

"Hello, Emily," I said as I sat down next to her.

"Oh, uh, hi," she said, shifting her eyes away. "Umm...why are you sitting here?"

"There's actually no rule against mingling among other houses, except during special events." I lifted up my tie. "I checked. And last I checked, we're still friends."

Emily ahh'd and went back to eating. I turned and started making my own plate.

People kept staring at me as if I was an idiot, which was quite rude, but as a person with an entire previous lifetime in her head, I relied on what my previous life self did best: ignore them. I was very good at that, being an incredibly dense dumbass that couldn't read subtle cues if it bit me in the ass. It was useful, on occasion, to generally ward off insults and bullying behavior by literally not noticing it; I'd kept many friendships alive by brute force and sheer ignorance and stubbornness, and I wasn't about to change that.

Also, luckily, the words of literal children did nothing to my self-esteem at this point.

Case in point, I did hear derisive tones and mocking behaviors from the table surrounding me, followed by laughter. I chalked that up to a lack of portable music options making my ears significantly more sensitive, so I ignored that in favor of idly watching Emily.

"...What?" she asked, mid-bite. "Uh, am I doing it wrong?"

"No, sorry, I'm just thinking," I replied, continuing to stare.

Emily stared at me, then shrugged. "OK."

I grabbed a bagel in front of me. I didn't see cream cheese anywhere, so I just gave up and ate it as it was. "So, do you play music?"

Emily looked at me, confused. "Um. Kind of?"

"What instrument?"

"I can play guitar, kinda."

"Nice." I leaned my arm on the table, then leaned my head on my hand. "Acoustic or electric?"

"Uh…" Emily looked surprised at the question, but not displeased. "Electric, but I learned on acoustic."

"OK," I said. "You have it with you?"

"Uh, no?" Emily scratched at her cheek, unknowingly rubbing off some sauce. "Professor McGonagall said that it wouldn't work here."

"Right," I remembered. "Well, I'm sure we can just get you a magic-compatible one."

"They make those?" Emily looked interested.

"Kinda rare, but there's wizarding bands that use it. Weird Sisters, Gryphon Talon, Magatia come to mind. It's…" I shrugged. "Kind of a personal hobby of mine, music . I don't have one, either, they're pretty expensive."

"Why'd you ask?"

"I'm thinking of making a band." And with that statement out of my mouth, Emily immediately lit up, and looked really excited suddenly.

"You play?"

"I haven't done guitar in a while, but I think I'd be able to remember it," I replied. It wasn't really a lie, but I wasn't great at guitar in my other life either. I could only hope to keep up with her, if she was actually any good at it.

"I'd love to join! That would be really fun!" I couldn't help but smile at her exuberance.

"Well, I don't have a fully-formed plan, yet, but I'd love to see how well you play some time."

"Yeah, we could do a jam session!" Emily grinned, food forgotten in her excitement.

I tried to temper that a bit, subtly gesturing to her food as I replied. "Well, you don't have an instrument yet, and frankly, neither do I."

"Oh, right." Emily did seem to calm down significantly from that.

"I'll keep you in mind when I work out the details," I said, shrugging. "Just wanted to gauge your interest."

Emily smiled and nodded. I chalked it up as a win.

As she turned to continue eating her food, I turned my head to see Ginny meekly walking towards the table. It didn't look like she noticed me, instead looking for an open spot. There was one next to me, so it didn't surprise me that she took it, but she didn't seem to know where she was going.

"What's wrong, Ginny?" I asked her as she sat down. She jumped and looked at me as if she were noticing me for the first time.

"Oh—hello, Stella," Ginny replied meekly, shoveling food onto her plate and steadfastly looking anywhere but at me.

I looked at Emily. She was eating her food, but looked between me and Ginny, and shrugged, also at a loss.

"Has she always been like this?"

"I, as far as I can tell, yeah. Is she usually not?"

I shook my head.

I knew she was avoiding my sister, it was hard not to notice since I cared about both of them, but I didn't know why. Luna wasn't really concerned, since she was busy exploring the castle, but I was. It hurt seeing the two so disparate at this time. I had expected them to lean more on each other, being friends.

It seemed to be affecting Ginny more than Luna, though, given her exhausted and disheveled appearance.

"Ginny," I continued softly. "We're friends, right? Or, at least, Luna's friends with you, and any friend of Luna's is a friend of mine by extension." Ginny hesitated, before nodding, and I sighed. "Then why are you avoiding her?"

"I—I don't..." Ginny meekly hid under the book she had in her ha—the book.

My eyes instantly locked on to Riddle's diary. Could it already be corrupting her? It seemed likely, since she seemed to be clenching it with a sense of urgency that was unusual for her.

But what could I do about it? I'm a first-year magic student, like her and Luna, and it would be suspicious.

Still, it didn't feel right, leaving that book in her possession. I resolved to get it from her, somehow, and then let Headmaster Dumbledore deal with it.

"She...she's not my friend," Ginny said, faintly. "She went to Ravenclaw, didn't she? Because she didn't like me, because you wouldn't have ever been a Gryffindor, and I—I guess you're more important to her than I am."

Okay, I don't know why people didn't think I could be in Gryffindor. I could totally be in Gryffindor. It's the red house, damn it! I might've changed into a completely different person but I still loved the color! But more important than my mental argument, I needed to nip this jealousy in the bud as soon as possible.

"...then why did you want to go to Gryffindor?" I whispered, sternly. Ginny flinched, jumping so hard I thought she was going to break something. "Ginny. Luna and I are twins. I know you know what twins are like, Fred and George are the same way, even if we approach it differently. Didn't it occur to you that Luna wanted to stay with me in the same way?"

"B—but..." Ginny looked indecisive. "But I didn't choose Gryffindor, the hat did." I shrugged.

"I know she's your friend. I know you, too; I'm pretty certain you could have gone into any house, had you been insistent enough, but you chose family." Ginny shook her head frantically, but I continued, "I did too."

Ginny just blinked at me with wide eyes as I confided in her, "Had Luna not gone into Ravenclaw, I probably would've wanted Slytherin." Because the hat was right—I could've planted the seeds of rebellion against the status quo in Slytherin (y'know, being that I was an adult at one point, it wouldn't have been that difficult), but Luna and Ravenclaw didn't go too well together in the story, and naturally I couldn't just leave her alone. "But Luna chose Ravenclaw, chose to try and be with me, and I couldn't just let that pass by." I tilted my head towards her. "Just like how your family expected you to be Gryffindor."

Ginny scowled. "You wouldn't have joined her in Gryffindor?" And away from the Slytherins, she didn't say, because even the Weasleys had their prejudices.

I shrugged. "I wouldn't have minded trying, no, but she wouldn't need me to protect her in Gryffindor. She'd have had you. I fit better in Slytherin, anyway, to my dismay."

Ginny scoffed, but then looked thoughtful. "Wait, you wouldn't have minded her being in Gryffindor?"

"Honestly, I'm annoyed with her right now," I told her. "Particularly because I knew you'd be hurt by her placement, and also because it kind of forced my hand there. Her going to Ravenclaw," I shrugged helplessly. "It's not really the house for idealists, as you can probably imagine, and I don't want them to break her."

"What do you mean?" Ginny looked interested in what I had to say, which was nice. It really seemed like I was getting through to her.

"It's the house of the thinkers," I told her. "The intellectuals and the wisdom-seekers, the ones that try to fit the world into boxes of logic and reason. Basically, cynical elitist assholes."

I heard several people around the table snort or make similar noises of disbelief, but I didn't pay them much attention, focusing on Ginny's facial expressions.

"Do you really think Luna would fit well in that kind of environment?" I continued.

Ginny said, "Well, she's smart…" She looked wary, though, as if she was considering the issue and, like me, didn't like the result.

"True," I replied. "I'm not taking that away from her; she's very smart. The issue is that she's free-thinking and difficult to control, which is not what the bastards in Ravenclaw—" I definitely heard muted laughter there. "—want out of their first-years."

Ginny looked concerned at that. "But…"

"But she has me, now." I grinned at her, feeling that deep well of feral anger rising up in me. "I'm gonna kick the collective asses of anyone who hurts my sister, and damn the consequences."

Ginny looked at my face, searchingly. I don't know what she was looking for, but something on my face made her look determined, and she nodded. "Yeah...you're right."

I smiled at her. "I usually am," I said, jokingly.

She punched me in the shoulder. "Prat." We shared a laugh together.

"Right, good talk," I told her, patting her on the back and standing up. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

I found Luna wandering the tower alone. "Hey, Luna," I called out to her.

She jumped and turned around. "Stella!" She ran up to me and hugged me. "Come on, you've got to come check this out!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," I said, smiling at Luna as she insistently tugged me forward.

"Look!" Luna said as we stopped in front of a painting. "This painting is from the thirteenth century, it's an Edmundsen classic!"

"That's so cool, Luna." I had to admit that it was interesting, in a vague way, since I did like art but could not stand learning about history. I was more interested in Luna, the way her eyes lit up and her smile radiated from her face, the picture of blissful innocence.

I would do anything to protect that smile.

Thoughts coalescing into determination, I followed my sister happily as she excitedly showed me around the tower.

Chapter Text

Our flying lesson was pretty special; it turns out, I have a natural aptitude for broomstick flying that, unfortunately for the Quidditch lovers, I had no interest in developing. Luna also was quite good at flying, and we were pretty well united in our collective disdain of Quidditch. Whereas I took a dismissive, almost hostilely negative viewpoint, Luna just tilted her head and bewildered the people who asked.

She was very good at weirding people out. While in canon, it felt more like a reaction to the overwhelming loneliness in her life, in this life it just seemed like she liked to mess with people. I could get behind that.

Some of the fifth-years in Ravenclaw actually looked for us to ask if we had any interest in Quidditch. Between my furious denial laced with expletives and sarcasm, and Luna's queries on if the actual heart of a snitch was used in the Golden Snitch, and if so, did that constitute compliance in illegal efforts regarding the poaching of endangered species, I think we successfully deterred them from ever seriously asking us again.

I was pretty sure I was going to end up on the team at some point, though. It was just like high school all over again.

After quickly getting ready for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Luna and I headed there. Luna was, as always, babbling about some magical creature or other, and I was content to just listen and nod at appropriate places.

As we entered the classroom, I couldn't help but feel like I had forgotten something. Being in a school like Hogwarts, though, déjà vu was bound to happen; I had read the books several times in my past life, but it had been eleven years since then, so while I could really remember the basic plot outline, it was the little nuances that escaped me.

I couldn't remember what happened this year, past the basilisk stuff, but if everything goes well then I should have had that taken care of.

Gilderoy Lockhart strode in with all the swagger and charisma of a man of his presumed caliber. I did remember that he was a fraud, though, so I sat there calmly as Luna sighed.

I glanced at her and could see that her cheeks were a little flushed. I was absolutely planning on using this against her in the future—my status as her little sister (by a few minutes) demanded it.

The class began without incident, and Professor Lockhart seemed to be somewhat competent, despite his insistence on quizzing us on the books. Having not read them, I just drew pictures in the answer text boxes, while Luna was probably making stuff up, since I knew she also didn't read them. (We actually didn't own any of the books. I think Dad hated him or something.)

"This isn't so bad," I muttered to Luna.

"Maybe nothing will happen?" Luna whispered back.

We were fully aware of the relative quality of the Defense teachers, and so it was safe to assume that something would happen, but as far as either of us knew, Gilderoy Lockhart was on the up-and-up (aside from the fraud thing, but I would have had no way of bringing any factual inaccuracies up) so we sat and patiently waited as he gathered our quiz papers.

Lockhart quickly went through the class papers, confirming some of the other girls' answers, before coming to what was clearly mine, since it was littered with terribly half-assed pictures of dragons. "Er— Miss Lovegood, what is this…?"

"We don't have the books," I said, motioning at Luna and myself. "Our Dad forbade it so we didn't read it yet."

Lockhart frowned. "That's no good. Who's your father?"

Luna replied, "Xenophilius," and I swore that Lockhart paled a bit.

He quickly rallied back, though. "Yes, well, if your father is actively interfering with your education, then I will send him a letter myself! Yes, that seems to be the best option…"

"He's trying his best," I said, waving him off.

Lockhart's frown only disappeared when he went through the rest of the quizzes, vocally applauding those who answered his questions correctly. He then told us to stand up and prepare to cast spells, which was fairly exciting. Nobody really thought it was going to be anything harmful, especially since we were first-years in our very first Defense class.

Luna and I were then quickly banished of the notion by Lockhart bringing out cages of Cornish pixies.

"Now, remember, the spell is Peskipiksi Pesternomi," the man called out. Luna's head swiveled to stare at me, horrified, and I could only watch helplessly as the pixies swarmed the room.

They completely trashed the room, uprooting the pictures on the walls, and Lockhart tried to demonstrate his spell, but was ultimately unsuccessful in his attempt.

I could almost feel my lymph nodes expanding as my vision swam. I could dimly hear Luna calling for something, a bubble? I passed out before I could focus any harder.

Word got out of my falling ill in Lockhart's class, to something as pathetic and simple as Cornish pixies. As expected of the Hogwarts rumor mill.

Naturally, being an adult in a child's body, I didn't care. And, being me, I didn't really pay any attention to that stuff. In fact, it was Curly who mentioned the negative feedback as I was doing my morning exercises.

"For the last time, my name's not Curly," Curly said in an aggravated tone as I thanked her.

"I know," I lied through my teeth.

She just glared at me. "It's Ife. It's not that hard to remember."

"Yeah, I know. I'm just bad at names." I didn't actually remember it. Also, I liked Curly. It fit her.

"What if I called you 'bunny', huh?" She put her hands on her hips and sneered. "You wouldn't like that, would you?"

"...what's a bunny?" I said, and Curly paused in her berating to stare at me in confusion.

Tiny peeked out from her bedsheets. "It's, uh, a baby rabbit?"

I sneered at both of them. "The fuck's a rabbit? That's not a real thing."

They both looked at me like I was crazy.

Luna said from behind me, stretching and cooling down, having finished her own set. "It's like a Snorkack without horns. And large ears."

"So it's just a mutated rodent," I said, unconvinced. "You guys sure believe in some weird stuff."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, weirdo."

"Oh, that one fits." I ignored her aggravated sigh with practiced ease and continued my morning ablutions.

I met up with Luna, who looked more annoyed than usual, and Ginny, who looked even more withdrawn than yesterday. Huh. I'd thought I'd helped alleviate some of her worries.

I looked at my sister. Maybe she accidentally said something that brought Ginny's worries back? I'd have to talk to her about that.

We went to eat dinner. I had the nagging feeling I was forgetting something, but I bumped into Luna, who was standing ramrod-still, and tapped her on the shoulder. "You OK, Luna?"

"Hm?" Luna said, turning to me. "Oh, yes, I'm all right. Are you?"

I looked at her, wide-eyed. "Uh, yeah? Am I ever not?"

Luna smiled at me, saying nothing.

Out of nowhere, Ginny started snarling at three Ravenclaw boys. "Oi! Get the hell out of the way! Mind your own damn business!"

The three boys scurried away and I turned to blink at her. "What was that about?"

Ginny whirled towards me, fury in her eyes. "You didn't hear them?"

I looked at her, dead in the eyes. "Why on Earth would I listen to people who aren't you two?"

Ginny paused, then broke out in hysterical laughter. Luna joined in. I was left confused and a bit flustered. After about a minute, their laughs subsided, and Ginny patted me on the back. "Never change, Stella."

"I...don't intend to?"

Nevertheless, they entered the Great Hall a lot more lighthearted than they were just a moment ago. Meanwhile, I was completely baffled. Did I miss something? I must've missed something.

Being the Halloween feast, the food was pretty good. I normally didn't even eat most of this food, but the food that I did eat was brought out in spades, so much so that even I was full, despite not having eaten more than half of it.

Luna, naturally, ate everything daintily, with her usual fluidity and grace. I envied her that, sometimes. I'm sure I could pull it off if I really wanted to, though. Maybe.

Probably.

It should be mentioned that Luna and I have very well-practiced and established personas that we use outside of family and close friends. I normally act the part of a hot-headed violent tomboy, while Luna is the elegant airheaded princess-type. There was really no reason to cultivate these personas, other than the fact that we thought it would be fun. So we did it. The only people, as far as we knew, that were privy to how we usually acted was the Weasley family, and I had the suspicion that they were getting a kick out of it, especially the twins.

If people were paying attention to us, they might also realize it, since Luna and I really played fast and loose with the personas. But given that we were Lovegoods, known to be bizarre at the best of times, it wasn't very likely.

After dinner, Luna and I followed some of the other students back to Ravenclaw tower, but we were collectively stopped. Luna and I looked at each other, then tried to get a closer look.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked astonished at the writing on the wall. Mr. Filch was cradling his cat and crying. There were ghosts around, which was pretty neat, but not really relevant to the discussion. Ginny looked especially pale in the corner of the crowd. Some of the members of the staff (Lockhart especially) were talking amongst each other.

But the most eye-catching thing was the red text, painted on the wall in blood:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

"Motherfucker," I said out loud in the silence.

Chapter Text

I looked around myself, realizing I wasn't alone. In fact, most of the school heard me swear and turned to me, staring openly.

"I thought I could've gotten here first," I muttered. "Someone beat me to it."

One of the people near me, an older boy, said, "You would've threatened half the school? Writing in blood?"

"Well, I would've used red paint," I said to him. "But yeah, would've made a fun Halloween thing."

The boy looked at me with extreme disgust. I thought that kind of reaction was a little much.

"Casual racism is a fun Halloween thing?" another person said, a girl.

I blinked. "You don't seriously think the Chamber of Secrets exists, do you?"

She opened her mouth and closed it.

I opened my mouth to continue the discussion, and my sister immediately shoved her hand over my mouth. "That's enough of that," Luna said, politely smiling at everyone while forcing a hand into my mouth.

"Mmf-mmf-mmf," I mumbled into her hand, pretending like I could actually speak. At that point, Luna silently dragged me away.

It'd been a few months since then— the winter holidays were coming up, and Luna and I were preparing on heading home to see Dad again. The ambiance of the castle was still one of heavy dread and fear, though, and while I understood why, I thought it was completely ridiculous.

"Fuck's sake, it's not like the Chamber of Secrets even exists," I said. You know, like a liar.

"Of course it does," Luna said, tilting her head. "It's where Slytherin kept his secret collection of plimpies."

I thought about replying to continue the faux-argument, but she made a very good point. "That's a good point. You're right."

Luna huffed with pride. "Of course I'm right. I'm your big sister."

"By like two minutes," I retorted, sticking a finger at her face. "We're twins, you goofball."

Luna proceeded to nibble at my finger. I paid her no heed. Immediately as she finished chomping at my finger, I rubbed it on her face, ignoring her "eewwww!" of surprise.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't keep the smile off my face. Luna's too cute. I turned back to Curly and Tiny, who were both looking at us in confusion. Things were progressing as normal for the day, up until Tiny brought out a familiar black book.

"Hey," she said before I could comment on it. "Do any of you know who T. M. Riddle is? Are they, like, a seventh year or something?"

"Please tell me you didn't write in it," I told her.

Tiny looked offended. "Of course not! It's not mine. I wouldn't dare read someone else's diary."

"The name sounds familiar," I told her, ignoring Luna's quiet confused stare. "Can I see it?"

Tiny passed it to me, and I looked at the book's cover. Sure enough, it said T. M. Riddle in gold-embossed serif font in the front. How nice.

"Where did you get this?" I asked.

Tiny shrugged. "I saw it in one of the toilets in Myrtle's restroom. Didn't feel right leaving a book in there, so I was gonna return it. Do you know a T. M. Riddle?"

"Yeah," I said, putting it in one of my many pockets. "I'll return it. Thanks, Tiny."

"My name's Saoirse," Tiny told me, indignant.

Curly sighed. "Yeah, she's still doing it."

Luna leaned to me and whispered, "You know a T. M. Riddle?"

I whispered back, "I'll tell you later."

I went up to the Headmaster's office, two steps at a time, looking for all the world like the disgruntled student I was. The gargoyle asked for the password, and I started muttering candy confections until it opened. (The answer this time was 'everlasting gobstoppers'.)

Upon entering the Headmaster's office properly, I noticed he wasn't there. So I dropped the diary onto the desk and left, ignoring Fawkes' cries.

Arriving back at the bottom of the stairs, I fully intended on heading back to meet with my sister, but a quiet chuckle stopped me in my tracks. Turning around, I came face to face with the Headmaster himself.

"Well, hello there, miss Lovegood," he said with cheer in his voice. "What brought you to my office?"

"I left a diary up there," I told him. "Property of Tom Marvolo Riddle." As his gentle bemusement gave way to alarm, I rolled my eyes and stormed off. "Why the fuck Voldemort would rebrand himself after an anagram of his own name I have no fuckin' idea."

There. At least someone with authority could deal with the damn thing.

Ginny looked distraught, Emily trying and failing to console her. Tiny and Curly were also there, flanking and defending Luna, who looked at me in surprise. "Stella! Have you seen Ginny's diary?"

I stared blankly at the group of girls before my wits kicked in. "I saw it in a toilet, Moaning Myrtle's one. I think she flushed it down already, though."

Ginny cried harder at my news. Luna gave me a glare as if to say, 'thanks for making it worse,' and rubbed Ginny's back.

Of course, Tiny immediately said, "Wait, that's the diary I grabbed! Wait, was T. M. Riddle you?" I immediately regretted making friends with Ravenclaws.

Oh, who am I kidding. They're great. Annoying when they're right, though.

Tiny turned to me as Ginny cried harder, all but affirming the fact. "Where'd you put the book?"

"I gave it to the Headmaster," I told the group, deciding to be honest. "Figured he'd be able to return it to you later."

Ginny cried, if possible, even harder. "What— what if Tom reveals my secrets?! I'll be ruined!"

"Okay, first off, I highly doubt Voldemort would tell Dumbledore anything," I said, raising an eyebrow. "Secondly, I'm also pretty sure neither one of them care about a preteen's problems."

They startled at my casual saying of Voldemort's name, then listened in abject horror and confusion at the rest of my sentence. Except Ginny, who said through sniffling, "What do you mean?"

I rolled my eyes, and brought out a piece of paper. With the pen I kept in my pocket, I sketched out the name TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. I then made seemingly random lines to connect the final bit, spelling out I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.

"Still baffled that he made an anagram of his own name," I muttered, capping my pen. "Also why would he include the 'I am' part? Completely absurd. Anyway, Riddle was a Slytherin prefect and Head Boy, like, eighty years ago. The timing checks out for him to be a baby Voldie."

"You're lying," Ginny said, shaking and still crying. "You have to be."

"Believe whatever you want to believe," I said, shrugging. "That's the Lovegood family motto. Far be it for me to tell you what to believe, I'm just pointing stuff out."

"To get You-Know-Who's name off of an anagram," Curly pointed out, staring at the paper. We collectively ignored Ginny's shrieking. "That's pretty coincidental, don't you think?"

"Yeah but that's also Voldemort's M.O. is being ridiculously petty about symbolism." I ignored their collective flinches at Voldemort's chosen moniker. "Luckily, we were all born a year after he died." I was getting quite a bit of practice lying about things.

"How did you even work that out?" Luna said, staring at me in clear confusion. "That's non-trivial."

I shrugged, quickly making something up. "Was doing anagrams a while back. Tom Marvolo Riddle's name was in the trophy room, you know the one, and I was kinda just working stuff out in my head. Incidentally, William Arthur Weasley can be rearranged into 'always rewire thallium', which just sounds like sound advice, really."

"...what's thallium?" Luna asked.

"It's a metal, they use it in some electronics. I think it's also poison."

"That sounds...dangerous."

"Yes, well, I'm sure they can handle it." I turned to Ginny. "Right, Ginny?"

I turned to notice that she was passed out. Emily was quietly panicking behind her.

"I, uh, she was swearing and cursing a lot, and uh, she was hissing, too? So I knocked her out," Emily said, hugging her wand.

I gave her a thumbs up. "Nice."

In sleep, Ginny looked sallow and withdrawn. This didn't bode well for her health. Luna stayed with her for most of the day, until the Weasleys heard about it and immediately swarmed the room.

I waited for an opportunity to leave, while Luna argued with Ron about whose fault it was that Ginny was here.

"It's obviously Malfoy's fault," I muttered to Harry, rolling my eyes at the absurdity of the whole situation. Harry, for his part, was sitting a bit away from the Weasley family, looking a little lost.

"That's ridiculous," Harry said, which surprised me. Wasn't he supposed to be the one to jump to Malfoy conclusions? "When would Malfoy have had the time?"

"When you guys met them at the bookstore," I said. I kind of weaseled my way out of the room at this point, subtly using Harry's curiosity to drag him along with me.

"Malfoy wasn't anywhere near her," Harry protested. "He was arguing with me. Or at least using Lockhart to annoy me."

"Wrong Malfoy," I said after spending a second parsing the statement. "I meant the father. Didn't he and Mr. Weasley get in a fist fight?" At Harry's nod, I continued, "Great distraction to put something into a little girl's cauldron, don't you think?"

Harry's mouth opened and closed silently. I turned back to the door. "It's why their house-elf tried to stop you from getting to Hogwarts— a subtle form of rebellion from a slave. Naturally, they were responsible for this. It's a miracle it wasn't worse."

"Wait— Dobby's a Malfoy house-elf?" Harry asked, but at that point the door swung open and Luna stormed out, holding in tears.

"Let's just fuckin' go," Luna growled out before I could ask what happened.

I didn't say anything, just waved to Harry as we left, arm in arm.

Chapter Text

"I might be a bad influence on you," I muttered idly as we approached the entry to Ravenclaw Tower, allowing Luna to drag me.

I didn't want to pressure Luna, who still looked distraught. She was getting good at hiding it, though; I probably wouldn't have noticed had I not been her twin. Her poker face was getting a lot better, and she definitely looked calm on the outside, but her slightly-hurried footsteps and panicked breathing gave away her actual distress.

She didn't say anything until we made it to our dorms, then fell on the bed, crying. Tiny, who was reading in her bed, startled and turned to look at us.

"You alright?" she asked.

I shrugged. 

Luna turned to me, furious. "What in Merlin's saggy pants do you see in Ron?"

I blinked at her. "...what?"

"Your bloody…" She waved furiously in my direction. "Crush. The boy's an idiot, Stella!"

I did a double-take. "I don't have a crush on Ron."

Curly snorted from her position in the room, clearly about to break into laughter. Both Tiny and Luna looked at me like I was particularly dense.

I stared at both of them. "I don't!"

Tiny giggled, which set Curly off, and they both just started laughing. Luna looked at me with the most deadpan look I'd ever seen from her.

I couldn't help but just stare at them, completely dumbfounded.

"Stella. You hang out with him all the time. You keep staring at him, for Merlin's sake! And every time we make plans with Ginny, it's always 'Ron this' and 'Ron that'," Luna said, sighing. "Whenever we go to the Weasleys' house, you're just stuck to him, like, all the time. You've watched him sleep for hours on end! That's creepy, Stella!"

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath with my hands over my mouth, then exhaled and pointed to my twin. "Okay. There's a lot to unpack, there. Ignoring that. What did he do this time?"

"Now, hold on, let's talk about—" Curly started to say with a grin, but then Luna exploded.

"He said that Ginny's condition was my fault! As if I wasn't the only one concerned about her behavior in the past few weeks!" Luna threw her hands up. "He had the gall to blame me for his neglect, the asshole!"

"Well it was actually a few months," I replied absent-mindedly, more focused on Ron's outburst. What would he find fault with in Luna's behavior? She was the only one really focused on Ginny, myself notwithstanding, so…

Oh, it's him being a little shit, blaming and accusing Luna to hide his own embarrassment and guilt at his own neglect. Well, he's 12, so I didn't really expect maturity from him. Then again, adults in my previous life did the same thing, so maybe it's just a human thing…

Well, that's all together entirely too depressing to think about. Moving on.

"Wha— a few months?" Luna said, looking baffled. "Wait, you noticed?"

"Yeah, I gave her a pep talk a while ago," I said, focusing back on the conversation. "She looked really sad that you went to Ravenclaw, so I went to talk with her about that. I thought it went well but when we met up the next day, she still looked really awful."

"You gave her one pep talk and expected her to feel better?" Curly snarked from her side of the room.

"Well, no," I admitted. "I expected her to try and find someone she could talk to. She had Luna and four brothers to talk to, I assumed one of them would be a good start."

Curly scoffed. "Didn't think to check up on that?"

Why would that be up to me…? I blankly stared at Curly for a moment, saying nothing.

Luna looked distraught. "I— was it really my fault, then…?"

I turned my head to stare at Luna, looking at her protuberant eyes reflecting my own. "Of course not," I assured her, before asking, "What happened between you two, though?"

Apparently, they were close to blows, with Ginny getting mad at Luna for prioritizing me over her, and Luna offhandedly but savagely mentioning "well, maybe if you cared about your brothers, you'd understand," and they would've probably gotten into an actual fist-fight had they not noticed the mockery targeting me and teamed up to stop me from listening.

I thought that was cute. I'm not sure why they even needed to, since I was clearly more mentally mature than both of them, but it was nice that they tried. Well, at least it gave them a truce.

Luna did apologize the following day, but Ginny never did say anything about it, so it was understandable that Luna thought everything was fine. In retrospect, though, I'm pretty sure the diary latched onto Ginny's mental state in that small gap between the days, and that definitely would've impacted her judgement.

I didn't say any of that, though. I just offered platitudes and sympathy, since I couldn't really do much else to make Luna happy.

"I think it's best to go to sleep," I said, coaxing Luna to bed and unraveling some of the knots in her hair. "Good night, Luna."

She sniffled. "Good night, Stella."

With that, the day drew to a close, and I didn't expect anything else to really happen. School was school, after all.

At breakfast, as the owl flew into my hand and I pulled the letter off of its leg, I found out what had happened last night:

It turns out that the Weasley children blamed Luna for not taking better care of Ginny (except Percy, who was blaming himself). This was, of course, completely ridiculous, and Mrs. Weasley agreed with me, scolding her children after Luna had left last night. She let me know through an owl that she was very cross with them, and that neither of us needed to forgive them even if they apologized. She also assured us, through a postscript, that we were still getting Weasley sweaters.

I felt like I missed a huge chunk of plot in the story, and was only now struggling to catch up.

I had to smile at the postscript, though. Mrs. Weasley always tried to take care of Luna and I, and it was hard for me to begrudge her for that. Rather, I was thankful that there was someone else that was invested in Luna's life besides Dad and I.

Luna made a noise next to me and I turned to look at her. She was clearly in distress, and was looking at me as if waiting for my reaction.

"Sorry? I wasn't listening," I said, then quickly regretted it, as Luna repeated herself with clear annoyance.

"Have you seen Emily?"

I blinked. "No."

Luna looked worried, so I turned my head towards the Gryffindor table. Ron was missing. That was mildly concerning. What was equally concerning for me was that Emily was missing.

I turned to Luna. "Should...we check on them?" Luna asked.

"Do we need to?" I said, eyeing the rest of the table. The Weasley twins were also missing, but that wasn't unusual; they were probably working on a project and just didn't pay attention to the time. I wasn't sure. 

"I mean, they could've been hurt, or something," Luna said, wavering.

I shrugged and stood up. "Okay, we might as well."

They weren't hurt.

They were, however, in the Hospital Wing, with Ginny holding Emily's hand and looking confused and distraught. 

Emily was petrified, though, so it didn't do much good.

That's.

Very aggravating.

Luna grabbed my hand, and when I turned to look at her, she looked at me with an expression of concern. I blinked and took a few deep breaths to center myself. 

"Ginny?" Luna took the lead, slowly approaching her with her hand out towards her. "Are you OK?"

Ginny jumped in her seat, gasping and swiveling her gaze towards us. She looked like hell; red-rimmed eyes swelling from the tears, snot and saliva staining her shirt and Emily's sleeve, she definitely had seen better days.

"Lu— Luna?" Ginny said, sniffling. "Oh, god, Stella—"

"Yes, hello, I'm here too," I said. "What happened, Ginny?"

"I— I don't— I heard whispers, and then Emily—"

I opened my mouth, and then Luna elbowed me in the stomach. I turned to look at her, and she looked annoyed at me, flicking her head towards Ginny. Slowly, I took a deep breath, focusing on the air entering and exiting my lungs. I felt Luna pull her hand away from mine as they said something, but I was too busy staring at Emily and trying not to freak out.

I only barely managed to get my temper under control, when I mentally tuned back into what Ginny and Luna were saying. "—we were going to the library, and then, I don't know, I heard a voice, and I tried to find it, and I swear I didn't leave her for that long, Stella! It wasn't even five minutes! But when I came back—"

"Stella, stop," Luna said, eyes wide as she stared at me. "Stella, what are you doing?"

She grabbed at my clenched fist and I looked inside of it to see that my palms were bleeding from squeezing too hard.

"Stella," Luna whispered. "You were going to punch her."

No I wasn't. That's silly. That's completely ridiculous, why would I—

Ginny flinched as I pivoted my eyes back at her.

Oh.

I get it.

I'm pissed.

Slamming the doors to the Great Hall open, I scanned the Gryffindor table until I found who I was looking for.

"Potter!" I shouted, walking towards him.

Harry and his friends were looking absolutely flabbergasted by my approach. "Uh, yeah?" Harry replied dumbly.

"Where's the snake?" I asked, point-blank.

"Uh—snake? What?"

"The basilisk," I shouted. "In the pipes. You're the only Parselmouth I know, where's the snake?"

The Hall went immediately, deathly still.

"I—I'm not—" Harry started to protest.

I had no time for this shit. "Of course you didn't summon the snake, you're frankly an idiot, but you're the only person who can find out who did." I could feel my teeth grinding against each other as I explained. "Emily's fucking petrified.  Someone used Slytherin's basilisk to petrify my best friend. I can't speak snake. You can. Are you helping or not?"

A few more seconds went by with no movement, and I threw my hands up. "Fuck you, then, I'll kill it on my own."

I stormed off, intent on doing just that.

Luna caught up to me fairly quickly. I thought she'd be more dumbfounded by my behavior. Well, I suppose she was used to it, already…

"Stella," she said, catching up with me. "You— what are you— are you serious?"

I turned to her. Luna gulped. "Right, dumb question. I… you'll need help."

"Are you going to?" I asked her, not breaking pace in the slightest.

Luna nodded. "Yeah."

I had thought about the danger of exposing Luna to the basilisk, but honestly, there was nobody I trusted more than her, so I also felt a bit of relief at her easy agreement.

Luna said, "Do… you already know where it is?"

"Myrtle's bathroom, the entrance is locked behind one of the sinks in the tap."

"How do you open it?"

"Parseltongue for 'open'. I was just gonna hiss until it opened."

Luna shook her head. "Oh, Merlin, here I thought you had a plan."

"I have a plan," I told her. "Get in, kill the snake, get out."

"That's not a plan, that's an action statement," Luna said with humor in her tone. More seriously, "Your best friend, huh?"

I unintentionally let out a growl of frustration. "Yes."

"No, that. That's good. I was worried." Luna sounded more concerned than I'd ever heard from her.

"For what?"

"You're, ah, not very friendly," Luna said. "And you're not exactly the most sociable person. I mean, neither of us are, but I feel like you've had it worse all year."

"I have plenty of friends. Emily and Ife and Saoirse come to mind," I pointed out.

Luna looked astonished. "You do consider them friends?"

I actually physically stopped in my approach to stare at her. "Of course I do. We've spent almost a year together, it's stupid not to."

"You keep insulting them, though?"

I scoffed. "I give them nicknames. They're cute."

"They actually hate it, you know," Luna said. "I talked to them a few days ago, they came up to me and asked why you hated them."

I felt my mind shut down. "...are they really that offended?"

Luna nodded. I ran a hand through my hair, frowning as I noticed that it'd gotten much longer without regular maintenance. I had to cut it short again, but that could wait.

"Fuck," I breathed. "Fine, I'll stop."

Luna smiled at me. "I'm sure they'd appreciate that."

"I thought the nicknames were cute," I told her. I really didn't mean any harm.

"They disagreed," Luna said, wistful smile back in place. "Consent is important, Stella."

"Of course," I said, almost growling, running a hand through my hair. Now I felt like an ass, on top of being an idiot. "I just… I guess I was just being stupid."

"As if you're ever anything else?"

I snorted and shoulder-checked Luna. "Shut up."

Her faint giggles echoed through the hallway.

Harry didn't come to the bathroom. Neither did Ron, or Hermione. Without them, I couldn't get into the sinks no matter what I did, and with Myrtle's useless prattling getting on my nerves, it was only a matter of time until I snapped.

Luna held my hand, and I squeezed it back in appreciation.

The hissing random phrases got nowhere, and after three hours, I gave it up as a bad job and left with Luna.

We made it back to the Great Hall in time for dinner. I sat next to Luna, who skillfully sat directly across from Tiny and Curly.

I took some time to gather my wits. I was interrupted three times by Luna elbowing me in the ribs. "Stop that," I said after the third time.

Luna simply smiled and nodded to our other two roommates. I sighed audibly.

"Sorry, Ife, Saoirse," I said, their names flowing off my tongue as if practiced. "I didn't realize how much you guys hated the nicknames until Luna pointed it out."

Ife scoffed. "It took you that long?"

Saoirse, true to form, smiled shyly. "Thanks, Luna."

Luna blinked, staring wide-eyed. "I see the Nargles have left your head."

Weirdly, Saoirse blushed. Luna smiled at her.

I… was my sister flirting? I genuinely had no idea. I gave her a thumbs-up, surreptitiously, but when she looked at me, her smile was replaced by a confused look, so I think I misread that situation. Oh well.

Ife saw what I was doing and rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot, Stella."

"Wow, rude," I said in the most deadpan voice I could muster. "But accurate," I conceded.

Ife let out a short, startled laugh, and I knew that she'd forgiven me.

It felt nice, having friends.

As I went to sleep, I suddenly realized something.

"Luna."

I heard rustling from the bunk above mine. "Yeah?" she said, sleepily.

"Did you know about Harry being a Parselmouth before I told you?"

"...he's a what?"

I facepalmed. "Ah, shite."