Work Text:
When Luna was twelve and lonely, having just gotten back from her first year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where she was a Ravenclaw, she had an idea.
See, her mother’s journal had seen her through many ups and downs. It had helped her reclaim her lost things, and in losing them she had connected with Hogwarts’ Magic.
It had helped her remember to fly free and not allow herself to be shackled by those who couldn’t see the wonderful world she could.
Yes, her mother’s journal was quite wonderful. Inspiring delight, pleasure, and admiration; it was extremely good and marvelous.
She giggled to herself at how well the definition fit her mothers notebook, then shook her head.
It had helped her through the lonely days of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. So what if there was more?
So she went up, up, up to the old attic of the Rookery to where her daddy had stored all her mama's old things in a brief moment between Wrackspurt attacks, and went looking.
Immediately her eyes were drawn to an old dusty book coated in the white dancing motes of Blibbering Humdingers. Checking to ensure she had her butterbeer necklace on, she nodded to herself and skipped over to the dusty black leather-bound book.
Notebook of Priya Pembrook
The words were written on the first page. Priya? She thought to herself. Wasn’t that Nana’s name?
She had not seen Nana in a while, although she remembered Nana used to tell her stories when she was really small. Stories of the friends Luna was one day to make. She wasn’t sure she believed in those stories anymore.
But maybe all she needed was Nana’s words to believe in them once more.
Nodding to herself, she opened the book and began to read.
Dear notebook,
I’m afraid I have to start afresh, the old collection of thoughts was burned away when Dragonpox struck the house last summer. Thankfully we all recovered, though Mother lost the baby, and the Healers say she shan’t have another.
But the summer wasn’t all horrible. I had my first vision! I was a third year at Hogwarts and I met a lovely lad named Basil Malfoy.
The lad wasn’t at all like his cousins. He was a Hufflepuff! And he was oh so charming in my vision! I learned that he is a spare and therefore is looking for wedding options where he takes the bride's name.
It’s far too perfect for our situation... I am officially the last of our name. Grams died of old age last year. And Uncle Peregrine lost his life to that cur, Grindelwald. With Mother barren... If I can’t find someone willing to bear me an heir the line will die out with me.
Can you imagine? The famous Prembrook Seers to be no more because of a dark wizard? What good is the sight when it can’t even save the ones that you love.
But I digress. Basil might be what we need, though I am only a second year so I shan't meet him for another year yet. Hopefully next year I’ll meet my future husband. I do hope I can grow to love him.
-Priya Pembrook, September 1, 1937
Most of the rest of the year was filled with bits and bobs of magic learning, Luna noted.
She hummed to herself, noting that putting one's wand behind their ear was considered high fashion in Nana’s time. She might have to try it out herself.
Oh and there was a wonderful little ditty about Wingardium Leviosa!
“If you try to Wing your ardium with a flick then a swish you’ll do nothing but leavi your osa, so make sure to Win the Gardium with a swish then a flick and you’ll always Levi the Osa”
She hummed it to herself. That would make remembering the pronunciation a breeze! Luna wondered why it fell out of favor and the Wizard Baruffio example was used instead.
But then there was the entry where Nana's vision came true!
Dear notebook,
I saw him for real the other day. Basil Malfoy was a little first year. He put the Sorting Hat on his head and it stayed for a full seven minutes before declaring Basil a Hufflepuff!
I managed to meet him in the halls between classes today. He was ever so charming asking for directions to the Great Hall. I walked with him and he shared all the same things I saw in my vision last year. But there were things I didn’t see, too. He is scared that his family won’t like that he is in Hufflepuff. That he misses his baby sister.
I’m not sure why but I shared things with him, too. About how I knew I’d meet him today for a whole year. How my family is seers. How I’m currently the last of my line. My fears for the future.
He smiled at me and said maybe we could be friends, share our burdens, and find solutions together. He is so sweet, I just want to cuddle him and wrap him in blankets and never let the world harm him.
- Priya Pembrook, September 4, 1938
There were many more moments with Basil and Nana throughout the school year. Apparently Basil was a potions prodigy and he helped Nana even though Nana was two years above him. In return Nana helped Basil with proof reading all his papers.
She was pretty sure Basil was the name of her Opa, and it delighted her to know that Opa was a mess when it came to spelling.
Something about that just tickled her pink. Maybe because it was Opa who taught her to read and write all those years ago when she was his little stickbug.
Nana and probably-Opa also got up to a lot of exploring. Apparently there was a passageway to The Hogs Head behind a mirror on the fourth floor. Nana and probably-Opa got in a lot of trouble when they popped up behind the bar- a week of detention and a hundred points lost each!
Luna made note to stay clear of that mirror, nodding to herself.
There were also some mentions of some creepy Slytherin first year named Tom that kept staring at Nana, and the name Tom made her think of something, but she couldn’t quite recall what. So she moved on.
Dear notebook,
This summer has been wonderful. Basil and I are to be betrothed upon Basil’s thirteenth birthday. We shall be wed upon his graduation from Hogwarts, and he is to take the Pembrook name.
There is one thing that worries me, however. I am developing feelings for Basil but they feel more... sisterly then wifely. My mother assures me the feelings will come with time, but I am unsure.
I... must confess I had another vision about us last night. One where Basil confided to me that I felt like an older sister to him, and that he wasn’t attracted to me like that. Wasn’t attracted to women like that. He was fifteen in the vision, and he is twelve now.
I am not sure if I should tell anyone. It is our duty to go through with the betrothal. But can I really be wed to my soul sibling? I suppose time will tell.
- Priya Pembrook, September 15, 1939
Luna frowned, paging through the notebook entries for the year. Tom, why did she know a Tom. And why did it make her think of her Radish earrings.
She wasn’t really sure, but Tom apparently kept staring at her Nana all of second year too. The name was niggling at something in her brain. It was annoyingly persistent, persistently discomfortable - although she didn’t find herself particularly anxious.
But she continued to look through the pages- even found that there was another clever little diddy in the margins of one entry.
“The Cheering Charm can do great harm if one is overwrought, so make sure you pause to calm down lest your charm knock them to the ground.”
She wasn’t even due to learn the cheering charm for two years yet, but she bet with Nana’s notes she could have it mastered her first day back at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Dear notebook,
I am afraid I’ve fallen deeply and irrevocably in love.
Yet it is a love that is not to be. Dor’ would never be accepted by my family. We’re purebloods and, to my shame, blood snobs. They’d never accept a muggleborn like Dor’...
But oh notebook, Dor’ is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. They’re magically powerful, and quick-whitted, and strong . They can out riddle me and have bested me in Charms and Transfiguration. They’re a transfer student from America and oh how I would love to Marry my sweet Dor’.
But alas, it is not to be. For not only is Dor’ a Yankee and a Muggleborn to boot...
It is yet worse for our curse of starcrossed love.
For Dor’s lovely full name is Dorothy Cooper. Alas I have fallen victim of Sapphic love, a type of love I may have been able to indulge in if Uncle Peregrine had an heir. However, it is forever forbidden to me as the last of my name.
As always it shall be mine and Basil’s duty to come together as wed.
I do not foresee a future with lovely Dor’ - though it breaks my heart ever so small.
-Priya Pembrook September 15, 1940
Luna was confused, Grammy Dor’ was definitely a part of the family. She hadn’t known Grammy Dor’ was a Yankee though.
No fair, she pouted. Grammy Dor’ never even offered to take me to the Americas.
She blithely, as in cheerfully indifferent, ignored the fact that Grammy Dor’ died when she was four, and Mama hadn’t allowed her to take a trip abroad until she was six. Some might think it was a matter of semantics, but that was the study of language. Age wasn’t language, it was a number.
Turning through the pages she frowned at an angry entry dated just a few months later.
Dear notebook,
The absolute nerve of that slytherin boy! Tom, the one who is always staring at me. He asked me to Hogsmeade the other week and I turned him down gently. Told him I had other plans and that maybe we could get a group together for the next outing.
I would have done it, too. He might be creepy, but I don’t like to burn bridges if I don’t have to. And he is talented in magic, I suppose.
Then the boy accosted me outside the three broomsticks and tried to manhandle me into a private room! The Absolute never! The impropriety! I am a betrothed woman! I scolded him something fierce and docked him the ten points that I may, my right as a Prefect.
I feel a bit bad bringing him to the supervising teacher, as it was in Professor Dumbledore’s care I brought him. There is something not right about the way the good Professor looks at Tom. However, the boy needs to learn that he cannot simply force his wishes on others.
Perhaps a hard week of detention with Professor Dumbledore will help Tom see the error of his ways.
- Priya Pembrook, November 15, 1940
As Luna got on the train for her second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. all the other girls were talking about some new romance novel that had come out.
Teenage girls apparently swooned over romance novels. Their "hearts throbbed" over hot boys and sexy girls. Luna never really understood the appeal.
She had all the drama she'd ever need right there in Nana's Notebook
There were tons of pages of her pining after Grammy Dor' while probably-Opa and her built a beautiful friendship. Why did she need thirsty teens when the trolley lady had plenty of pumpkin juice to wash down the dryness of Nana's astrology notes?
And she found lots of love between the sturdy yet gentle pages depicting hugs and late night s'mores.
No she didn't understand all the other girls, but that's okay. She had Nana's Notebook to keep her company.
Dear notebook,
Dor' confessed she had feelings for me. Oh how I wish I could confess to her back. She invited me to Hogsmeade and - Oh how I wish I could say yes, dear notebook.
But I am a betrothed woman, and it wouldn't be proper.
To make matters worse, that creepy Slytherin kid had the nerve to walk up right after and ask me on a date to Madam Puddifoot's. The fool has learned nothing from last year. I had to reject him again.
I fear I shall not step foot in Hogsmeade this weekend for my own safety. I let him down much harder this time, told him I shalln’t ever accompany him there, I did. But I am afraid he might manage to accost me once more.
There are rumors of his magical strength. He is only a fourth year, yet I fear he might best me. No, I shan’t go into Hogsmeade.
But... perhaps that is a good thing. Perhaps I can arrange a game night with my Betrothed. Maybe suggest we each can invite a friend to ensure propriety. I can invite Dor' and he can invite that muggleborn friend of his, Ewan Campbell.
Yes, that would make a lovely evening. I bet we could coach it as part of the betrothal and get the Headmaster to loan us an elf for the evening to provide refreshments.
It sounds like a lovely plan.
- Priya Pembrook, November 13, 1941
Luna put the notebook down as the train started rolling to a stop. That was ever so strange, the train wasn’t due to arrive at the station for another five minutes.
And she looked it up last year. The Hogwarts Express had never been early, nor late, in its entire history. It had always arrived precisely as it was meant to.
She stood up, putting the notebook away, and approached the partition to the main train car.
Just as she was reaching her hand out- she felt cold and empty .
Like when she first realized she was missing her mother’s magic and love.
But it was okay, Hogwarts’ Magic could fill in right?
She frowned, but Hogwarts wasn’t here. And it was cold cold cold . She was being dragged down by the Gulping Plimplies. But mother said they only wanted to play.
She should have brought some gillyweed. Or given her daddy some radish earrings. Daddy wasn’t paying attention again. It had been a long time since his eyes were clear when looking at her.
But she was okay because she had Mama’s journal and Nana’s notebook.
They could be her pretend friends until Nana’s vision of her true friends came to pass.
She felt empty, and cold. But it was okay.
She almost always felt that way.
She almost didn’t notice when a warm burst of protective magic drove the sorrow away...
Because the sorrow was always with her anyway.
So when the Werewolf Professor brought her some chocolate she merely accepted it and took a bite, before turning to the next page of Nana’s notebook.
Dear notebook,
That vision I had years ago has come true. Basil is as resigned to be wed to me as I am to him. He has confessed that he is gay and in love with his best friend Ewan.
We both are doomed to forever love those we cannot touch, and touch those we only love as siblings. It is ever so dreadful, like a romance novel of star-crossed lovers.
But... perhaps that is not our fate afterall.
I had another vision. One of Basil, Dor, Ewan and I bringing a lovely baby girl into the world. She is fair of hair and big of heart and has a sort of glow about her. We turn to the mother and I somehow know that she is Basil and I’s daughter.
“What will you name her?” Dor’ whispers.
The lady who has Basil’s hair and my nose smiles a smile that clearly comes from Dor. “Luna” she says, “Luna Elizabeth-” the last name was garbled. But the Moonchild will come to be, I am sure of it.
I spoke to the others of this vision and we have agreed to look over the marriage contract together. Basil and I shall do our duty no matter what, but perhaps...
Perhaps there is a future with my Dor’ after all.
- Priya Pembrook, November 19, 1942
Luna hummed and skipped up the steps of Hogwarts with the notebook in her pocket. She realized that Ewan was her Grampy and knew they must have found a way, after all they had Mama and then helped Mama bring her into the world.
She slid into the Ravenclaw table and watched the new first years get sorted with a joy in her heart.
Nana’s life really was wonderful to read about.
She frowned as Thomas Rodgers was sorted into Hufflepuff. She was glad he wasn’t a Ravenclaw. She wasn't sure why but she was quite sure she didn’t like Toms.
No it wasn’t just the creepy Slytherin from decades ago. There was something else, if only she could remember.
Holed up in her bed that night she read another entry.
Dear notebook,
Tom has somehow found out about our arrangement. That reprobate threatened to tell our fathers if we did not let him join and have me bear him an heir too.
It was absolutely despicable, his behavior. He is an uncultured swine if he thinks any of us would be going through with this without parental permission.
Our marriage contract allows us each a concubine, though we shan’t actually use that terminology outside the official proceedings. No, for all intents and purposes Dor’ shall be my wife and Ewan shall be Basil’s husband. It is only for the sake of an heir that Basil and I shall bed.
Tom’s look of rage when I laughed in his face and told him to go ahead and do it shall be one of my fondest memories. That boy really needs to learn some manners. I am starting to see why Professor Dumbledore looks at him so.
We have collectively decided on a name for our heir. If it is a girl, as I saw in my vision, we shall call her Pandora. If my vision proves false and I bear a male heir we shall name him Pyramus.
In my visions, I have seen that Pandora will not have the sight. It is ironic that all this stress was for an heir to carry on the family name and Gifts, yet they still shall die with me.
I have hope that little Luna will carry some form of the Sight, but given the garbled nature of her full name, I feel that the Pembrook name really will end with me.
- Priya Pembrook, February 9, 1943
Nana’s notebook really helped Luna through her second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It helped her feel connected to her Nana and Opa and Grammy and Grampy.
She missed them all terribly. Dragonpox had taken them when she was four, just weeks before her fifth birthday and her first trip abroad- to France.
But they had such a lovely story and lovely lives and she enjoyed living with them for a moment through Nana’s words. And the tips and tricks throughout the years helped her with her research for her classes. Even if she got some odd looks when she put her wand behind her ear.
Some people didn’t understand retro at all.
She was saddened when Professor Werewolf resigned, although she wasn’t sure why people were surprised he was a werewolf. It had been obvious to her from the first glance.
He was a good Professor, not at all like Professor Fraud had been the previous year. She hadn’t been sad to hear he was gone at all.
She hummed to herself, swinging her legs on her seat on the express as it made its way back to London.
She wondered what other books she might find if she went up, up, up into the attic again this summer.
Oh! She stopped her swinging, her eyes gone wide as she looked at the closed, black-bound notebook. That’s where I know the name Tom from!
...
I wonder if Ginny is still being infected by Tom’s wackspurts?