Moving on is a simple thing
Date: Tuesday, April 17, 2001
Time: Morning
Location: The Lovegood Residence, Ottery St. Catchpole
Characters Involved: Luna Lovegood, Timothy Lovegood (NPC) only
Rating: PG
Luna had let Seamus's letter sit on her desk for a time while she decided what best to do with it. She had never got any letters while she was at Hogwarts, save from her father, so as a child she decided that any correspondence she ever received she would keep. She still had all of her father's writings, and one or two notes from Tonks from the early days of The Periodic Inquiry. But Seamus's letter just didn't seem to fit in with those. It remained on her desk for a while, until all of a sudden she couldn't stand to look at it. So she stuck it in a drawer. Eventually she changed her mind and brought it out again to find a more suitable place.
In the end, however, she looked at the brief message and thought it was only that... a brief message. Nothing she couldn't remember, if she felt so inclined. By Tuesday morning it was in the bin, and her face was perfectly calm and Tuesday-morning vacant as she sat down at the kitchen table. But the way her father watched her, she could have sworn she tacked the thing to her forehead.
"Good morning," she said serenely. "What?"
He looked surprised. "Nothing."
Luna smiled and they turned their eyes to their plates. She was being silly; she hadn't even told Mr. Lovegood that she'd received anything back from Seamus. And, three days after sending the package, it was nothing that would be on his mind.
"So Norman has returned from his errand, I see."
Or maybe it was. "He's safe and sound in the owl pen with the others," she replied without looking up. Her father bit into his toast and said nothing else. They hadn't spoken much about Seamus's wedding, though Luna was quite sure Mr. Lovegood had seen the announcement in the paper, even before she mentioned her plan to send a gift. He hadn't said much about that, either.
"Good idea." And then he nodded.
Was it really?
Frances had helped her put the package together. She liked that sort of thing and was an enthusiastic assistant, though she watched Luna carefully. Luna was happy to ignore the attention, but she got the impression that everyone (her father included) expected this to be a very difficult thing for her. And it wasn't... right?
She was perfectly fine, she wanted to tell them. But they never asked, so she never bothered.
"It was a thoughtful gift," her father said suddenly, looking over a long stretch of parchment beside his plate. "I'm sure they'll appreciate it."
"Thanks. Dad, you're working at the table again."
"Just wanted to get a head start on proofreading."
"Mmhmm." She smiled and sipped her tea.
Besides, it had been so long since all that, several months now. After it happened her father and few friends had been very concerned, but eventually they stopped asking about it and life went on as normal. She assumed that was the normal adjustment period for girls who'd broken up with their boyfriends-and having never had to break up with anyone before, who was she to question how things were done? So she went on with life as well, because it would be childish to do otherwise. Men and women fell in and out of love all the time. That was how it was done.
It was silly to still think about it after so many months. So she never said anything.
When Luna looked up again, she realized her father was watching her. "What?"
"Nothing."
He went back to his parchment. She watched him for a while, because it felt like they were both waiting for something to be said. When nothing came, she returned to sipping her tea.
She would have liked to talk to Frances about it. Frances had dated plenty of boys, and Luna once or twice had to play the understanding female when the breakup was especially bad. Not often, though; she assumed it was because Frances was so experienced. Was the up-and-down broom ride of love really that amazing? Luna had thought it utterly amazing once, too. And then, with one disagreement, it was as if her heart had been ripped out. Strange, as she had been alone and perfectly content before then, that being alone once more could be so painful.
People around the world put themselves through that constantly, repeatedly... and thought nothing of it.
Mr. Lovegood was watching again. "Yes, Dad?"
"Are you sure you're all right?"
Now it was Luna's turn to be surprised. For a moment she could only stare. "Yes. Why?"
"Your ex-boyfriend's getting married," he replied in his quiet, blunt way.
And that was the end of the explanation, but really Luna didn't feel like more needed to be said. This was the thing that had been hanging between them for two weeks, waiting to be spoken aloud. She wanted to reply, but suddenly her throat felt very small, too small for words.
But really, nothing more needed to be said.
When she'd first brought it up Mr. Lovegood had not had much to say, though Luna thought she could see wisdom and a curious disappointment in his expression, as if he'd known what would happen but had hoped it wouldn't. She didn't understand and couldn't bring herself to voice her own opinion on the matter. She didn't know the woman who Seamus now loved so dearly-only in a very far away sense. Charlotte Aurelius was a name in the paper, the face behind the counter at a small bookshop. She was very pretty to be sure, and Seamus must have thought very highly of her. Of course, there was a time less than a year ago when Seamus thought very highly of her, too....
But perhaps not as much. They'd loved each other, but they weren't meant for each other. That was Seamus and Charlotte. She'd told herself this dozens of times, to make sure she understood.
It made perfect sense, and yet seemed so ludicrous at the same time-the idea of love. It was like some experiment, to date whoever was available at the moment, see if there was some sort of connection, if there was explore it more and if there wasn't move on to the next specimen. It spawned all sorts of annoying questions like "what is love?" and "why do people fall in love?" and "if there's someone out there for everyone, then who's meant for me?" and "do I really want to waste time looking around and breaking hearts and waiting for some experience that I may not like anyway?"
She hated that she should have to think these thoughts and feel so utterly empty to have lost something she never had in the first place, and how jaded and cynical she felt herself becoming, and the fact that she had never asked to have this bit of innocence taken away, but it was gone and she couldn't have it back. And yet she thought of moments in a Muggle tube and at the zoo and listening to music and on couches in dimly lit rooms, and even if she didn't have that innocence anymore she could at least remember it.
Still, boys were annoying and she really didn't want to talk to her father about any of this. She was finally able to manage a smile and say, "As he should, Dad. I'm happy for them."
They watched each other. She thought he might say something else, like "you'll find someone," or "be patient, the love you want is worth waiting for" or something equally romantic. But he said nothing, and neither did she. What could they say to each other, both having done little more with their lives than love and lose, and quietly smile and pretend that life was as it should have been?
Luna glanced at the clock on the wall briefly, then stood and gathered the empty dishes and cutlery. She placed them in the sink and set a charm to clean while she was gone. Her father had returned to his proofreading. She bent and kissed him on the cheek.
"See you after work, Daddy."
"Enjoy your day."
She retrieved her bag and slid her chair into the table. Today it was Witch Weekly. They were getting ready to print the next issue, so final edits were being made, and most of the staff was already started on next week's articles. If she could get through a few writing assignments and updating the calendar today, the rest of the week wouldn't be so hectic.
"I love you, Luna," Mr. Lovegood said. She was two steps from the door. She stopped and turned to look back at him, staring with gray eyes that had always protruded since she was a child, and were often vacant and disturbing to most people but in this moment were filled with something completely different. Her father was looking at his parchment, but upon realizing she had stopped he glanced over his glasses, shy and awkward. It seemed like he would say something else.
...But he didn't. Luna smiled. "I love you too, Dad." She turned and walked out, leaving him to his proofreading.
Time: Morning
Location: The Lovegood Residence, Ottery St. Catchpole
Characters Involved: Luna Lovegood, Timothy Lovegood (NPC) only
Rating: PG
Luna had let Seamus's letter sit on her desk for a time while she decided what best to do with it. She had never got any letters while she was at Hogwarts, save from her father, so as a child she decided that any correspondence she ever received she would keep. She still had all of her father's writings, and one or two notes from Tonks from the early days of The Periodic Inquiry. But Seamus's letter just didn't seem to fit in with those. It remained on her desk for a while, until all of a sudden she couldn't stand to look at it. So she stuck it in a drawer. Eventually she changed her mind and brought it out again to find a more suitable place.
In the end, however, she looked at the brief message and thought it was only that... a brief message. Nothing she couldn't remember, if she felt so inclined. By Tuesday morning it was in the bin, and her face was perfectly calm and Tuesday-morning vacant as she sat down at the kitchen table. But the way her father watched her, she could have sworn she tacked the thing to her forehead.
"Good morning," she said serenely. "What?"
He looked surprised. "Nothing."
Luna smiled and they turned their eyes to their plates. She was being silly; she hadn't even told Mr. Lovegood that she'd received anything back from Seamus. And, three days after sending the package, it was nothing that would be on his mind.
"So Norman has returned from his errand, I see."
Or maybe it was. "He's safe and sound in the owl pen with the others," she replied without looking up. Her father bit into his toast and said nothing else. They hadn't spoken much about Seamus's wedding, though Luna was quite sure Mr. Lovegood had seen the announcement in the paper, even before she mentioned her plan to send a gift. He hadn't said much about that, either.
"Good idea." And then he nodded.
Was it really?
Frances had helped her put the package together. She liked that sort of thing and was an enthusiastic assistant, though she watched Luna carefully. Luna was happy to ignore the attention, but she got the impression that everyone (her father included) expected this to be a very difficult thing for her. And it wasn't... right?
She was perfectly fine, she wanted to tell them. But they never asked, so she never bothered.
"It was a thoughtful gift," her father said suddenly, looking over a long stretch of parchment beside his plate. "I'm sure they'll appreciate it."
"Thanks. Dad, you're working at the table again."
"Just wanted to get a head start on proofreading."
"Mmhmm." She smiled and sipped her tea.
Besides, it had been so long since all that, several months now. After it happened her father and few friends had been very concerned, but eventually they stopped asking about it and life went on as normal. She assumed that was the normal adjustment period for girls who'd broken up with their boyfriends-and having never had to break up with anyone before, who was she to question how things were done? So she went on with life as well, because it would be childish to do otherwise. Men and women fell in and out of love all the time. That was how it was done.
It was silly to still think about it after so many months. So she never said anything.
When Luna looked up again, she realized her father was watching her. "What?"
"Nothing."
He went back to his parchment. She watched him for a while, because it felt like they were both waiting for something to be said. When nothing came, she returned to sipping her tea.
She would have liked to talk to Frances about it. Frances had dated plenty of boys, and Luna once or twice had to play the understanding female when the breakup was especially bad. Not often, though; she assumed it was because Frances was so experienced. Was the up-and-down broom ride of love really that amazing? Luna had thought it utterly amazing once, too. And then, with one disagreement, it was as if her heart had been ripped out. Strange, as she had been alone and perfectly content before then, that being alone once more could be so painful.
People around the world put themselves through that constantly, repeatedly... and thought nothing of it.
Mr. Lovegood was watching again. "Yes, Dad?"
"Are you sure you're all right?"
Now it was Luna's turn to be surprised. For a moment she could only stare. "Yes. Why?"
"Your ex-boyfriend's getting married," he replied in his quiet, blunt way.
And that was the end of the explanation, but really Luna didn't feel like more needed to be said. This was the thing that had been hanging between them for two weeks, waiting to be spoken aloud. She wanted to reply, but suddenly her throat felt very small, too small for words.
But really, nothing more needed to be said.
When she'd first brought it up Mr. Lovegood had not had much to say, though Luna thought she could see wisdom and a curious disappointment in his expression, as if he'd known what would happen but had hoped it wouldn't. She didn't understand and couldn't bring herself to voice her own opinion on the matter. She didn't know the woman who Seamus now loved so dearly-only in a very far away sense. Charlotte Aurelius was a name in the paper, the face behind the counter at a small bookshop. She was very pretty to be sure, and Seamus must have thought very highly of her. Of course, there was a time less than a year ago when Seamus thought very highly of her, too....
But perhaps not as much. They'd loved each other, but they weren't meant for each other. That was Seamus and Charlotte. She'd told herself this dozens of times, to make sure she understood.
It made perfect sense, and yet seemed so ludicrous at the same time-the idea of love. It was like some experiment, to date whoever was available at the moment, see if there was some sort of connection, if there was explore it more and if there wasn't move on to the next specimen. It spawned all sorts of annoying questions like "what is love?" and "why do people fall in love?" and "if there's someone out there for everyone, then who's meant for me?" and "do I really want to waste time looking around and breaking hearts and waiting for some experience that I may not like anyway?"
She hated that she should have to think these thoughts and feel so utterly empty to have lost something she never had in the first place, and how jaded and cynical she felt herself becoming, and the fact that she had never asked to have this bit of innocence taken away, but it was gone and she couldn't have it back. And yet she thought of moments in a Muggle tube and at the zoo and listening to music and on couches in dimly lit rooms, and even if she didn't have that innocence anymore she could at least remember it.
Still, boys were annoying and she really didn't want to talk to her father about any of this. She was finally able to manage a smile and say, "As he should, Dad. I'm happy for them."
They watched each other. She thought he might say something else, like "you'll find someone," or "be patient, the love you want is worth waiting for" or something equally romantic. But he said nothing, and neither did she. What could they say to each other, both having done little more with their lives than love and lose, and quietly smile and pretend that life was as it should have been?
Luna glanced at the clock on the wall briefly, then stood and gathered the empty dishes and cutlery. She placed them in the sink and set a charm to clean while she was gone. Her father had returned to his proofreading. She bent and kissed him on the cheek.
"See you after work, Daddy."
"Enjoy your day."
She retrieved her bag and slid her chair into the table. Today it was Witch Weekly. They were getting ready to print the next issue, so final edits were being made, and most of the staff was already started on next week's articles. If she could get through a few writing assignments and updating the calendar today, the rest of the week wouldn't be so hectic.
"I love you, Luna," Mr. Lovegood said. She was two steps from the door. She stopped and turned to look back at him, staring with gray eyes that had always protruded since she was a child, and were often vacant and disturbing to most people but in this moment were filled with something completely different. Her father was looking at his parchment, but upon realizing she had stopped he glanced over his glasses, shy and awkward. It seemed like he would say something else.
...But he didn't. Luna smiled. "I love you too, Dad." She turned and walked out, leaving him to his proofreading.