The Dark Side of the Moon, prompt strangers
Yes, I am back. I have been writing on this fic from Luna's PoV for a long time and it was hard work to find a tone that did her voice full justice. But now I am pretty happy with what came out of it.
Title: The Dark Side of the Moon
Author: animimares
Beta: monifieth, all remaining mistakes are my own.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairing: Luna Lovegood/Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Mr Lovegood
Word Count: 5.396
Rating: PG
Prompt: 025 Strangers
Summary: They tell me my name is Luna Lovegood. It’s not all that bad a name I think; though I’m not quite sure what it means. Who is Luna Lovegood? I asked one of the Ladies this but she didn’t answer me; instead she gave me one of those smiles they have all given me since I woke up.
Author’s Notes: This was so tough to write. I was very unsure about how to write a convincing Luna from her own point of view. Please tell me if you think I sucked at it (and why). Crossposted many places.
_____
Today was gonna be the day?
But they'll never throw it back to you
By now you should've somehow
Realized what you're not to do
I don't believe that anybody
Feels the way I do
About you now
And all the roads that lead to you were winding
And all the lights that light the way are blinding
There are many things that I would like to say to you
But I don't know how
I said maybe
You're gonna be the one who saves me ?
And after all
You're my wonderwall
~ Oasis
Sunday, August 2nd, 1998
I feel as if I’ve slept for a very, very long time (for one hundred years, like Sleeping Beauty) and time has erased everything that has happened before this point.
The Ladies (they are very nice and have pretty, lime-green robes) tell me my name is Luna Lovegood. It’s not all that bad a name I think; though I’m not quite sure what it means. Who is Luna Lovegood? I asked one of the Ladies this but she didn’t answer me; instead she gave me one of those smiles they have all given me since I woke up (smiles which never reach their eyes).
So I guess I have to figure out who Luna Lovegood is on my own then; me being her and all.
They have put me in a very nice looking room. Still, the walls could do with some colour but I’ll get by, I guess. It’s not a big room, mind you, but big enough for one person. There’s a bed with white bedclothes (maybe I’ll ask one of the Ladies to find me some bedclothes in blue. I think that Luna Lovegood might have been rather fond of that colour) and a small, round bedside table made of oak.
One of the Ladies brought me a bouquet of flowers when I woke up. Roses - white roses. I don’t care for roses much, and I think that maybe Luna Lovegood didn’t either (though something is telling me there is more to it than that). I’m not sure what kind of flowers we are supposed to like, her and I, but it isn’t roses, that’s for sure.
In the wall opposite my bed there’s a window. From where I’m sitting in the rocking chair next to my bed I can see that the sky’s clear blue. I like that colour, it’s very pretty. Perhaps that’s the colour I’ll ask the Ladies to get me; for the bed. I would sleep well (and not too long, I would want to wake up and just look at it) if I had that kind of blue sheets.
Together with the roses the Lady gave me this book. It’s very fancy; with red stripes on the front cover that seem to exchange colours with their neighbours from time to time. I used a long time simply watching them change from deep wine-red to a flushed pink. It’s very fascinating.
Then I asked the Lady whom all these gifts were from and she nodded towards a framed picture on my bedside table. I hadn’t paid any notice to it before, but when I saw it I wondered why I hadn’t since the girl in it is rather pretty. She has long, blonde hair falling in waves around her face and her nose seems a bit too big for her delicate features. However, all in all she is rather beautiful. When she caught me looking at her she sent me a stunning smile; it made my stomach hurt in such a strange way and I have no idea why.
I wondered if she was Luna Lovegood, but then I remembered what the Ladies had told me and decided that she couldn’t be her. I don’t know who she is, but since she sends me presents I guess Luna Lovegood knows her well. Maybe it’s her sister? Perhaps Luna Lovegood looks a bit like her? I don’t know what Luna Lovegood looks like and I can’t go and see for myself because there are no mirrors in my room.
I have to remember to ask the Ladies who the girl in the picture is, but as it is right now I have apparently forgotten more than what I remember. It is a tad frustrating, to be honest.
~*~
Monday, August 3rd, 1998
The Ladies spelled my bedclothes blue, but it wasn’t the exact colour of the sky. I didn’t complain, though, because I thought that would have been a bit rude of me. At least it is not a horrible blue, but dark blue like cornflowers. It’s nice enough and I hope that I will sleep more soundly from now on.
I did not sleep very well last night. I woke up from a terrible dream, my whole body slick with sweat. My brain kept telling me that I should be in pain, but I have no idea why that should be. I see no scars on my body (I have looked at my breasts and stomach and legs and I can’t find any scars, only a mole on my left ankle) and I can’t feel any when I run my fingers over my face and up my neck either.
The girl in the picture laughed at me when I did this and told me not to worry too much about my looks, because the dark side of the moon would always be more attractive than real, magnificent beauty. I fell asleep thinking about what she could have meant with that.
One of the Ladies (quite young, with bushy brown hair and kind eyes) told me the girl in the picture is married to someone named Malfoy. She didn’t give me any real name, so I guess she must be Mrs Malfoy then. However, when she told me this I became unsure of the age of the photo, since the girl looks far too young to be married. Perhaps it is an old picture of my mother - but why do we have different last names then?
Leaning against her frame, Mrs Malfoy watches me with an amused smile that seems just a bit cruel. I somehow believe many people don’t like her (though I can feel Luna Lovegood did and that she liked Luna Lovegood back) and she in return despises them. To me she looks cunning and intelligent, but she also has blue eyes the same colour as the sky. I think she likes dreaming too - and I believe that was what Luna Lovegood liked about her most of all.
The golden colour of the sky outside my window tells me that the sun is setting. In a short while one of the Ladies will come and tell me to go to bed. I hope it’s the bushy-haired one; her eyes smile when her lips do and she appears to be sincere (no dreamer). I both like and dislike that about her.
I wonder if Luna Lovegood had any friends.
~*~
Tuesday, August 4th, 1998
Today I had two visitors; a man and a woman. As soon as they stepped through the door I felt as if I ought to know them, but I didn’t even know their names until the man told me he was Harry Potter and the woman Ginny Weasley.
Ginny Weasley had long, red hair that shone in the sunlight like a waterfall of roses made of gold. I decided right away that Luna Lovegood had liked her very much. I think they might even have been friends and this thought made me so happy that I just went right up to her and gave her a hug. She was startled at first - surprise making her all stiff and awkward, but then she hugged me back. I don’t think I can ever describe that feeling. Luna Lovegood was lucky to have a friend like Ginny Weasley.
But most importantly; Luna Lovegood had friends, I feel sure of it.
Harry Potter gave me another bouquet of flowers; tulips this time and I like them better than the roses, even though they are also white. Maybe Luna Lovegood liked white better than blue (maybe I was wrong about her?) For some reason I doubt it; she would want colours (like me) lots of colours. Rainbows. But maybe she liked white because it could be turned into every colour she could ever wish for. At least that is why I like white.
They asked me if I felt any better, but I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, because I don’t even know how I am supposed to feel. I told them that my body didn’t hurt so that had to be a good sign. They smiled at this (kind smiles).
Harry Potter found a vase for the tulips and Ginny Weasley gave me a new set of robes made from a shimmering silver material. I like them; they are pretty and the perfect size for me (Ginny’s eyes looked so sorrowful when I told her this).
“They were yours once,” she said to me, but I can’t remember ever having owned robes like these. It is so very strange; sometimes Luna Lovegood appears to only ever have been a faint shadow or a distant dream to me.
They left pretty quickly after this and I saw grief etched into every of their features. That reminded me that I had to ask the Ladies what I was doing here. I had the sudden, terrible thought that I was maybe very ill.
I dreamt again last night. It was a red dream - I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean, but it was red like blood; like Ginny Weasley’s hair. It still didn’t exactly hurt when I woke up, but my whole body was shaking as if it was suffering from phantom cramps. I felt scared because people usually have seizures like these when they are sick and I don’t feel sick (just confused).
The Ladies told me I was not exactly ill, but that I had been hit with a terrible curse during a war. I didn’t know I had been fighting in a war, but then again - there are many things I don’t know.
After the Ladies had finished their tests on me (they have done this every day since I woke up) I turned to the girl in the picture and asked if she knew any red curses. She looked very sad so I think she might know a few and not any of the good kind.
I don’t think Mrs Malfoy is my mother - or my sister. Maybe she is a friend too? A friend like Ginny Weasley?
~*~
Wednesday, August 5th, 1998
The bushy-haired Lady came by today. She said she wanted to talk to me about my condition; it sounded very serious.
She sat down on my bed and motioned for me to sit down too (I have got new bedclothes today because of my nightmares; the new ones are red like the book Mrs Malfoy sent me). I asked her what she thought about my new red bedcovers and she smiled at me like you would smile at a silly child. She will be a great mother for someone some day, but I think she should treat me like Luna Lovegood instead of a little girl (I didn’t tell her this, because what if people treated Luna Lovegood like a child?) This idea made me feel slightly depressed.
Then she asked me if I remembered anything from my life prior to the day I woke up. It was a strange question to ask I think; and I told her so - told her that she must have been talking about Luna Lovegood’s life. She did not seem to quite understand what I meant; she just frowned and made a note on her clipboard. I’m sure that is not a very good sign, but she has to understand that I can’t decide if I am Luna Lovegood or not before I know who she was and nobody is willing to tell me.
I feel more confused than ever.
She asked me all kinds of questions; about my dreams and thoughts on different things. Sometimes I had to think for a while before I could answer, because my thoughts were like wild horses on the prairie and I had to catch them before being able to tell her about them. Luckily the Lady understood this very well and she gave me loads of time. I think she has been around people who have forced her to become a very tolerant person, because I don’t think she was born the patient type.
When we had finished the questioning she stood up to leave, but I was sure that if anyone could give me answers about what was going on it was this Lady. So I stopped her and asked her if she thought Luna Lovegood had many friends. She blinked at this, and the light from my window was reflected in a couple of teardrops on her cheeks. I don’t think it’s a good thing that she started crying when I asked her that. Does it mean Luna Lovegood did not have any friends or does it mean the ones she had are gone?
“Was this girl one of Luna’s friends?” I demanded of her before she left, pointing at the girl in the picture who looked at the Lady with contempt. The Lady looked at the picture for a long time before shaking her head slowly.
“I’m pretty sure Parkinson was never your friend, Luna,” she answered stiffly and left. I was very confused at this because I thought the girl in the picture was called Mrs Malfoy. When I looked at the girl for an explanation she just looked away, her shoulders slumping.
I’m lying on my bed now, trying to figure out if having friends means you make people upset, because if that is so then Luna Lovegood seems to have had at least some.
~*~
Thursday, August 6th, 1998
I couldn’t sleep last night. Instead I lay awake and looked at the picture of Parkinson. It made more sense to me to call her that than Mrs Malfoy - it is as if Luna Lovegood knew her better with that name than as someone simply being Malfoy’s wife (though that doesn’t seem quite right either). She doesn’t go to sleep at all. She looked right back at me all through the night. Sometimes she seemed to want to say something, but then she just bit her lip and held her tongue. I wish she would tell me who she is; I think she’s maybe the key to finding out who Luna is.
At some point though, I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up this morning there was someone in my room and it wasn’t one of the Ladies. It was a man - around 45 or so. He sat in the rocking chair and watched me without saying anything. It startled me slightly.
He had blonde hair (a shade darker than Parkinson’s in the picture). I thought he was maybe related to her in some way, but then he got up and walked over to me.
“I have missed you, darling,” he said, and I became aware that he was maybe related to Luna Lovegood instead. Maybe he’s her uncle? He looked a bit like someone’s uncle.
When I didn’t answer him he looked away with an expression of sorrow. I felt bad about making so many people sad, so I decided that this man should be happy when he left. He looked like one who had seen enough sad things in his life; he shouldn’t become more depressed just because I’m not sure who Luna Lovegood is.
“Hello,” I answered him (he looked relieved, like someone who had just discovered that his child had survived). “How nice of you to drop by.”
He has a very pleasant smile; it made me feel safe and content - like a cat that has found a sunbeam. I think this person was very important to Luna Lovegood, but I was afraid to ask him how he was related to her, because that could make him look sorrowful again. I didn’t want that; as long as he smiled it came naturally to me to smile back.
“I have brought you the latest editions of The Quibbler,” he said, sitting down on my bed. I was not quite sure about what The Quibbler was, but it should be something good when he had brought me it. He handed me two magazines with colourful, moving illustrations. They were very interesting. I read articles about animals I didn’t even know existed. Some of them are very rare, so I guess that is why I haven’t heard of them before.
After I had finished reading the last article in the second magazine the man started telling me about how the Ministry apparently held unicorn foals imprisoned in the dungeons under some horrible prison called Azkaban. The unicorns can’t stand to be held captivated so slowly they die from grief. I think this is very evil of the Ministry, especially when the man added that this is the only reason for the greedy Minister of Magic to do so, since he believes that when the unicorns die their corpses will turn into pure gold. Isn’t that horrible?
I felt so relaxed around this man, and he just kept talking about things I know I should remember. But when it saddened me to be around Ginny Weasley, knowing she was a friend of Luna that I couldn’t recall; with this man it all just sounded like a fantastic bedtime story.
The brown-haired Lady came by as the man was about to leave. He kissed me on the top of my head and called me sweetheart. I made me feel very loved and cared for. The Lady smiled and wished him goodnight. Just as she closed the door after him I remembered I hadn’t got his name.
“Who was he?” I asked the Lady as she began all her tests and questioning, and the smile died on her lips. She didn’t look at me when she answered.
“He is your father, Luna.”
I think I might begin to cry as soon as I’m finished writing this down. It’s so unfair that I can’t remember these things. It’s so unfair. And the girl in the picture (whoever she is) won’t look at me either. I think the world is keeping me here only because they can’t find the real Luna Lovegood.
~*~
Friday, August 7th, 1998
Last night the dream was more vivid, though not much - and I still woke up shivering and sweaty, trying to make my head stop spinning. It was red; in the beginning everything was just jets and flashes of red light dancing in the air. I felt as if I was floating in the air with them (or maybe on them, like a never ending red river). Then suddenly the dream changed and I fell down and landed on a field in front of the ruins of an enormous castle. I think I remember that castle, though I’m not sure from where. And in front of it was the girl in my picture - Parkinson. She was searching for something in the grass and there was some sort of red halo glowing around her body (the light came from inside her, from her). Suddenly it exploded and flew towards me. Then I woke up. I have no idea what all of this means. Who am I? Who is Luna Lovegood? I don’t understand… I don’t understand anything anymore.
Ginny Weasley came by around midday. This time Harry Potter wasn’t with her. She told me he was at home, babysitting Hermione’s baby, because today both Hermione and Ron were at work. I don’t know who Hermione is (Ron neither), but if she is one of their friends, she is maybe one of my friends too.
Ginny was singing a little song while she found the things she had brought me (something about diamonds; I think I’ve heard it before, but the voice was different). It seems everybody thinks I need presents, being at a hospital and all. I told her I was not ill but had only been hit by a terrible, red curse (like the Ladies had told me). Ginny lightened up at this and she laughed and smiled and clapped her hands.
“You remember,” she told me, and her bottom lip trembled. “Luna, YOU REMEMBER!”
I didn’t want to tell her I don’t really remember anything; that I only know what the Ladies have told me, so I just nodded and smiled because she did and she was so happy. (Sometimes people need to believe and dream, I won’t spoil it for them.)
There were three packages. One big and two smaller ones. They were all wrapped in blue paper. I liked that blue colour, it was a little lighter than the one of the sky, but very nice. I wanted to run my fingers over it, but I was afraid it should be damaged.
“Open them,” Ginny said to me, so I did. Carefully not ruining the paper. In the big present was a dress. It was blue - the exact same colour as the sky. I thought it was very pretty and it fitted me perfectly when I tried it on. In the two small presents I found a pair of white gloves that went to my elbows and a brooch that was formed like a half moon. I still had no mirror, but when I looked down at myself I thought I was very pretty. Ginny thought so too, she told me herself.
“Don’t you remember the clothes?” she asked me a bit confused. “Don’t you remember that it was the dress we looked at in that Muggle store just before the Last Batt…” She paused and looked away. People don’t seem to like looking at me when they realise I don’t remember Luna Lovegood’s life. It makes me feel so frustrated; it’s not my fault they keep confusing us. She looked at the picture of Parkinson for a long time, frowning. Parkinson was smirking; I guess she knows Ginny too and doesn’t like her all that much.
“I still wonder how the dress and the other things ended up in your suitcase, Luna,” Ginny finally continued. I didn’t know what to say to that, because I wasn’t even aware that this dress was Luna’s before I got it. I’m not sure I like it.
“I don’t know either, but you’ll have to ask Luna when you find her, won’t you?” I said. I have decided I can’t be Luna Lovegood before I know who she is and I can’t know that when people take for granted that I am Luna Lovegood. I will rather be nobody than someone who doesn’t really exist.
Ginny looked shocked. I didn’t like making her worried, but I felt so tired and sad and I am sick of not being able to fully appreciate who I am. I want a mirror. I want to find out what I look like. I want to find out if I resemble someone (maybe Parkinson, maybe the man they tell me is my father but who’s really Luna’s father, not mine - I’m nobody. Nobody’s daughter).
Ginny left quickly after that. I heard her talking to one of the Ladies and they put something in my dinner; I could taste it. But I don’t care. I’m tired now, I just want to sleep without having dreams I don’t understand. I want something to make sense.
I’m so tired…
~*~
Saturday, August 8th, 1998
I didn’t dream last night. My mind was blank and empty. It was relieving in some ways, but also sad. Those dreams are the only fragments of memories I have left of my own. There is no Luna Lovegood in them - only me.
I wonder when Luna Lovegood started becoming my enemy. I remember that I was once just curious about who she was. Now she feels as if she is the only thing holding me back. I want to find myself, not whom people believe to be Luna Lovegood.
All morning I just sat on my bed, leaning against the wall, looking out the window. There’s a street down there full of people who don’t know I’m up here. They maybe don’t even know this world exists. But why should they care? Maybe they are happy in the world they are already in. Who’s to judge?
I don’t know for how long I sat there. I was lost in a world of my own - it was nice (to know it’s my own, not hers). I thought about the little unicorn foals the man told me about, and I thought about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. They are unique; I think I will go try finding some when I get out of here at some point (if ever). They exist, I’m sure of it. They exist just like me.
At some point someone knocked on the door. I thought it was just one of the Ladies (the bushy-haired one, perhaps; she knocks), so I just waited for someone to step in. But when the door had closed there were no voices and no questions. When I looked up I was very surprised to see the girl from my picture standing in the middle of the room.
She was taller than I had expected. And she looked older than in the picture - she looks more like someone’s wife now; more like Mrs Malfoy instead of Parkinson. She is still very beautiful, though (her eyes were cold and emotionless as they surveyed the room and me), beautiful like white roses; attractive despite of their thorns.
“This is for you,” she said without any introduction; pointing to a big, oval and flat package leaning up against the wall besides the door. I didn’t get up to see what it was; I had asked myself so many questions about this girl; felt convinced she was the key to everything, and when she’s finally here… she is just as mysterious as her picture.
“You have already sent me gifts,” I told her, covering my feet with the now orange duvet. I felt cold and abandoned and lonely. (Loony.) Like someone who never really fitted it, not even in the role she was supposed to play.
“This is not for you. This is for Luna.”
Her face was too blank; without any feelings showing. The diamond on her left hand caught the sunlight and I wondered if she loved Malfoy or if she loved his diamonds. Somewhere deep inside my mind an old Muggle song started playing… fragments of lines (a few words; a humming) and a laughter accompanying it.
Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.
“They tell me I’m Luna,” I told her. She is the first person to see the difference. Of all people SHE who I thought would be the key to find out who Luna was (and through that, who I was) was the one to point out that we are not the same.
Parkinson smiled (she knew what I was thinking). “Luna knew my name; you don’t. The Luna I knew was killed in battle months ago and I don’t think she’s coming back.” She looked so tired; tired and angry. She looked like everything I felt. For one crazy moment I wondered if she had heard about the unicorn foals. It was such a strange thing to think about.
“Why not?” I asked her, because she seemed open to questions now. All the questions I had wanted to ask her for days; I could ask her. If I was lucky she’d give me a response that I could use to find out who Luna Lovegood was and who I am.
“I killed her. She would never forgive me for that.”
Parkinson started to turn around slowly. I was suddenly reminded of my dream; the red halo and the ruins of a… a castle… a school, I think. She had been the one to cast the curse; the curse that locked me up in here without any memories. Neither my own nor Luna’s.
“Why?” It’s the most simple question to ask, really. I have been asking it all along. From day one. Why? Why here? Why her? Why blue? Why white? Why? But now I needed to know why Parkinson had cast the curse. What had she been searching for?
Looking over her shoulder at me, Parkinson smirked, though there was no feeling in it. “You look pretty in that dress. You look like her - but you aren’t her.” Her hand held on to the door handle as if it was the safest place she had ever known. “Believe me, it’s easier this way. Like this I won’t… I can’t want something that’s gone, can I?” She sighed. For one short moment (the blink of an eye, did it even exist?) she looked so vulnerable. Like a flower that had been crushed under someone’s boot. “Yes, it’s easier this way.”
She opened the door and left me alone with the gift wrapped in white paper. I got up slowly and walked over to her present, wondering what all this was for. If I had been a warrior in a war I did not even remember or know the cause off, then how was I supposed to know who I had been; who I was and who I am.
How am I supposed to be? Who am I supposed to be?
She has given me a mirror. An oval mirror with flowers in all colours painted around the edge. It hit me that this was the kind of flower I had always liked the most. Pansies.
I stared at myself in the mirror forever (for minutes, hours?). This is how I look like; nothing like Pansy Parkinson (I remember her name, I remember everything). I have long, blonde hair and eyes too big and too wide. (Too blue. Too close to the sky). In this dress I look like one of the girls from a fairy tale - a princess lost in time and space.
“I have always loved blue.”
“I know.”
“With these gloves I can touch the unicorns. They’re white; pure.”
“This was my mothers. You can have it.”
“But it’s only half a moon.”
“The dark side is the side no one sees. Only those who searches for it will see it; if they find it.”
“Are you searching for it?”
“Perhaps.”
I remember. I remember my life as Luna Lovegood. This is who I am; Luna Lovegood, but I have changed. When I look at myself now (it’s night, the room is full of shadows and in the mirror my face is split in two - one in shadow and one in light) I see a stranger; but she is me. She is Luna Lovegood. I am Luna Lovegood, but not the Luna Lovegood of once upon a time. I am someone else.
I remember Pansy. Not Pansy Parkinson nor Pansy Malfoy. I remember Pansy. I remember a day in the Forbidden Forest without fighting and without reality. We looked at the blue, blue sky and we told each other fairy tales. That was when she gave me this dress, the gloves and the brooch. She knew me.
“This will end tonight, Luna.”
“Fairy tales never end.”
“This one will have to. I have to marry him.”
“Why?”
“Because that is how things are.”
“Nothing lacks the ability to change.”
“The moon can’t. She will always only be a round crest of light in the sky.”
“That is not true. Even the moon changes.”
“Not without help from time and the earth.”
“I could visit you.”
“No - I don’t want you to visit me. I want to forget you. It’s easier that way.”
When I look to the frame on my bedside table it’s empty. Pansy is gone and all that is left is green fields and the ruins of Hogwarts. I remember the Last Battle. I remember being a warrior. I remember Pansy being darkness where I was light. I remember and I understand.
“The dark side of the moon will always be more attractive…”
“Why be a white rose when you want to be a pansy?”
“A rose can never become a pansy.”
“You can plant it in new soil and add a little magic…”
I think Pansy will come back at some point when she realises that she has done what was maybe for the best. The moon can’t change without help from time and the earth. A rose can’t change before you plant her in new soil. I’ll wait. Someday she’ll come back…
Someday I will wake up to a frame that is not empty.
~*~
~ animimares
Title: The Dark Side of the Moon
Author: animimares
Beta: monifieth, all remaining mistakes are my own.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairing: Luna Lovegood/Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Mr Lovegood
Word Count: 5.396
Rating: PG
Prompt: 025 Strangers
Summary: They tell me my name is Luna Lovegood. It’s not all that bad a name I think; though I’m not quite sure what it means. Who is Luna Lovegood? I asked one of the Ladies this but she didn’t answer me; instead she gave me one of those smiles they have all given me since I woke up.
Author’s Notes: This was so tough to write. I was very unsure about how to write a convincing Luna from her own point of view. Please tell me if you think I sucked at it (and why). Crossposted many places.
_____
Today was gonna be the day?
But they'll never throw it back to you
By now you should've somehow
Realized what you're not to do
I don't believe that anybody
Feels the way I do
About you now
And all the roads that lead to you were winding
And all the lights that light the way are blinding
There are many things that I would like to say to you
But I don't know how
I said maybe
You're gonna be the one who saves me ?
And after all
You're my wonderwall
~ Oasis
Sunday, August 2nd, 1998
I feel as if I’ve slept for a very, very long time (for one hundred years, like Sleeping Beauty) and time has erased everything that has happened before this point.
The Ladies (they are very nice and have pretty, lime-green robes) tell me my name is Luna Lovegood. It’s not all that bad a name I think; though I’m not quite sure what it means. Who is Luna Lovegood? I asked one of the Ladies this but she didn’t answer me; instead she gave me one of those smiles they have all given me since I woke up (smiles which never reach their eyes).
So I guess I have to figure out who Luna Lovegood is on my own then; me being her and all.
They have put me in a very nice looking room. Still, the walls could do with some colour but I’ll get by, I guess. It’s not a big room, mind you, but big enough for one person. There’s a bed with white bedclothes (maybe I’ll ask one of the Ladies to find me some bedclothes in blue. I think that Luna Lovegood might have been rather fond of that colour) and a small, round bedside table made of oak.
One of the Ladies brought me a bouquet of flowers when I woke up. Roses - white roses. I don’t care for roses much, and I think that maybe Luna Lovegood didn’t either (though something is telling me there is more to it than that). I’m not sure what kind of flowers we are supposed to like, her and I, but it isn’t roses, that’s for sure.
In the wall opposite my bed there’s a window. From where I’m sitting in the rocking chair next to my bed I can see that the sky’s clear blue. I like that colour, it’s very pretty. Perhaps that’s the colour I’ll ask the Ladies to get me; for the bed. I would sleep well (and not too long, I would want to wake up and just look at it) if I had that kind of blue sheets.
Together with the roses the Lady gave me this book. It’s very fancy; with red stripes on the front cover that seem to exchange colours with their neighbours from time to time. I used a long time simply watching them change from deep wine-red to a flushed pink. It’s very fascinating.
Then I asked the Lady whom all these gifts were from and she nodded towards a framed picture on my bedside table. I hadn’t paid any notice to it before, but when I saw it I wondered why I hadn’t since the girl in it is rather pretty. She has long, blonde hair falling in waves around her face and her nose seems a bit too big for her delicate features. However, all in all she is rather beautiful. When she caught me looking at her she sent me a stunning smile; it made my stomach hurt in such a strange way and I have no idea why.
I wondered if she was Luna Lovegood, but then I remembered what the Ladies had told me and decided that she couldn’t be her. I don’t know who she is, but since she sends me presents I guess Luna Lovegood knows her well. Maybe it’s her sister? Perhaps Luna Lovegood looks a bit like her? I don’t know what Luna Lovegood looks like and I can’t go and see for myself because there are no mirrors in my room.
I have to remember to ask the Ladies who the girl in the picture is, but as it is right now I have apparently forgotten more than what I remember. It is a tad frustrating, to be honest.
~*~
Monday, August 3rd, 1998
The Ladies spelled my bedclothes blue, but it wasn’t the exact colour of the sky. I didn’t complain, though, because I thought that would have been a bit rude of me. At least it is not a horrible blue, but dark blue like cornflowers. It’s nice enough and I hope that I will sleep more soundly from now on.
I did not sleep very well last night. I woke up from a terrible dream, my whole body slick with sweat. My brain kept telling me that I should be in pain, but I have no idea why that should be. I see no scars on my body (I have looked at my breasts and stomach and legs and I can’t find any scars, only a mole on my left ankle) and I can’t feel any when I run my fingers over my face and up my neck either.
The girl in the picture laughed at me when I did this and told me not to worry too much about my looks, because the dark side of the moon would always be more attractive than real, magnificent beauty. I fell asleep thinking about what she could have meant with that.
One of the Ladies (quite young, with bushy brown hair and kind eyes) told me the girl in the picture is married to someone named Malfoy. She didn’t give me any real name, so I guess she must be Mrs Malfoy then. However, when she told me this I became unsure of the age of the photo, since the girl looks far too young to be married. Perhaps it is an old picture of my mother - but why do we have different last names then?
Leaning against her frame, Mrs Malfoy watches me with an amused smile that seems just a bit cruel. I somehow believe many people don’t like her (though I can feel Luna Lovegood did and that she liked Luna Lovegood back) and she in return despises them. To me she looks cunning and intelligent, but she also has blue eyes the same colour as the sky. I think she likes dreaming too - and I believe that was what Luna Lovegood liked about her most of all.
The golden colour of the sky outside my window tells me that the sun is setting. In a short while one of the Ladies will come and tell me to go to bed. I hope it’s the bushy-haired one; her eyes smile when her lips do and she appears to be sincere (no dreamer). I both like and dislike that about her.
I wonder if Luna Lovegood had any friends.
~*~
Tuesday, August 4th, 1998
Today I had two visitors; a man and a woman. As soon as they stepped through the door I felt as if I ought to know them, but I didn’t even know their names until the man told me he was Harry Potter and the woman Ginny Weasley.
Ginny Weasley had long, red hair that shone in the sunlight like a waterfall of roses made of gold. I decided right away that Luna Lovegood had liked her very much. I think they might even have been friends and this thought made me so happy that I just went right up to her and gave her a hug. She was startled at first - surprise making her all stiff and awkward, but then she hugged me back. I don’t think I can ever describe that feeling. Luna Lovegood was lucky to have a friend like Ginny Weasley.
But most importantly; Luna Lovegood had friends, I feel sure of it.
Harry Potter gave me another bouquet of flowers; tulips this time and I like them better than the roses, even though they are also white. Maybe Luna Lovegood liked white better than blue (maybe I was wrong about her?) For some reason I doubt it; she would want colours (like me) lots of colours. Rainbows. But maybe she liked white because it could be turned into every colour she could ever wish for. At least that is why I like white.
They asked me if I felt any better, but I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, because I don’t even know how I am supposed to feel. I told them that my body didn’t hurt so that had to be a good sign. They smiled at this (kind smiles).
Harry Potter found a vase for the tulips and Ginny Weasley gave me a new set of robes made from a shimmering silver material. I like them; they are pretty and the perfect size for me (Ginny’s eyes looked so sorrowful when I told her this).
“They were yours once,” she said to me, but I can’t remember ever having owned robes like these. It is so very strange; sometimes Luna Lovegood appears to only ever have been a faint shadow or a distant dream to me.
They left pretty quickly after this and I saw grief etched into every of their features. That reminded me that I had to ask the Ladies what I was doing here. I had the sudden, terrible thought that I was maybe very ill.
I dreamt again last night. It was a red dream - I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean, but it was red like blood; like Ginny Weasley’s hair. It still didn’t exactly hurt when I woke up, but my whole body was shaking as if it was suffering from phantom cramps. I felt scared because people usually have seizures like these when they are sick and I don’t feel sick (just confused).
The Ladies told me I was not exactly ill, but that I had been hit with a terrible curse during a war. I didn’t know I had been fighting in a war, but then again - there are many things I don’t know.
After the Ladies had finished their tests on me (they have done this every day since I woke up) I turned to the girl in the picture and asked if she knew any red curses. She looked very sad so I think she might know a few and not any of the good kind.
I don’t think Mrs Malfoy is my mother - or my sister. Maybe she is a friend too? A friend like Ginny Weasley?
~*~
Wednesday, August 5th, 1998
The bushy-haired Lady came by today. She said she wanted to talk to me about my condition; it sounded very serious.
She sat down on my bed and motioned for me to sit down too (I have got new bedclothes today because of my nightmares; the new ones are red like the book Mrs Malfoy sent me). I asked her what she thought about my new red bedcovers and she smiled at me like you would smile at a silly child. She will be a great mother for someone some day, but I think she should treat me like Luna Lovegood instead of a little girl (I didn’t tell her this, because what if people treated Luna Lovegood like a child?) This idea made me feel slightly depressed.
Then she asked me if I remembered anything from my life prior to the day I woke up. It was a strange question to ask I think; and I told her so - told her that she must have been talking about Luna Lovegood’s life. She did not seem to quite understand what I meant; she just frowned and made a note on her clipboard. I’m sure that is not a very good sign, but she has to understand that I can’t decide if I am Luna Lovegood or not before I know who she was and nobody is willing to tell me.
I feel more confused than ever.
She asked me all kinds of questions; about my dreams and thoughts on different things. Sometimes I had to think for a while before I could answer, because my thoughts were like wild horses on the prairie and I had to catch them before being able to tell her about them. Luckily the Lady understood this very well and she gave me loads of time. I think she has been around people who have forced her to become a very tolerant person, because I don’t think she was born the patient type.
When we had finished the questioning she stood up to leave, but I was sure that if anyone could give me answers about what was going on it was this Lady. So I stopped her and asked her if she thought Luna Lovegood had many friends. She blinked at this, and the light from my window was reflected in a couple of teardrops on her cheeks. I don’t think it’s a good thing that she started crying when I asked her that. Does it mean Luna Lovegood did not have any friends or does it mean the ones she had are gone?
“Was this girl one of Luna’s friends?” I demanded of her before she left, pointing at the girl in the picture who looked at the Lady with contempt. The Lady looked at the picture for a long time before shaking her head slowly.
“I’m pretty sure Parkinson was never your friend, Luna,” she answered stiffly and left. I was very confused at this because I thought the girl in the picture was called Mrs Malfoy. When I looked at the girl for an explanation she just looked away, her shoulders slumping.
I’m lying on my bed now, trying to figure out if having friends means you make people upset, because if that is so then Luna Lovegood seems to have had at least some.
~*~
Thursday, August 6th, 1998
I couldn’t sleep last night. Instead I lay awake and looked at the picture of Parkinson. It made more sense to me to call her that than Mrs Malfoy - it is as if Luna Lovegood knew her better with that name than as someone simply being Malfoy’s wife (though that doesn’t seem quite right either). She doesn’t go to sleep at all. She looked right back at me all through the night. Sometimes she seemed to want to say something, but then she just bit her lip and held her tongue. I wish she would tell me who she is; I think she’s maybe the key to finding out who Luna is.
At some point though, I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up this morning there was someone in my room and it wasn’t one of the Ladies. It was a man - around 45 or so. He sat in the rocking chair and watched me without saying anything. It startled me slightly.
He had blonde hair (a shade darker than Parkinson’s in the picture). I thought he was maybe related to her in some way, but then he got up and walked over to me.
“I have missed you, darling,” he said, and I became aware that he was maybe related to Luna Lovegood instead. Maybe he’s her uncle? He looked a bit like someone’s uncle.
When I didn’t answer him he looked away with an expression of sorrow. I felt bad about making so many people sad, so I decided that this man should be happy when he left. He looked like one who had seen enough sad things in his life; he shouldn’t become more depressed just because I’m not sure who Luna Lovegood is.
“Hello,” I answered him (he looked relieved, like someone who had just discovered that his child had survived). “How nice of you to drop by.”
He has a very pleasant smile; it made me feel safe and content - like a cat that has found a sunbeam. I think this person was very important to Luna Lovegood, but I was afraid to ask him how he was related to her, because that could make him look sorrowful again. I didn’t want that; as long as he smiled it came naturally to me to smile back.
“I have brought you the latest editions of The Quibbler,” he said, sitting down on my bed. I was not quite sure about what The Quibbler was, but it should be something good when he had brought me it. He handed me two magazines with colourful, moving illustrations. They were very interesting. I read articles about animals I didn’t even know existed. Some of them are very rare, so I guess that is why I haven’t heard of them before.
After I had finished reading the last article in the second magazine the man started telling me about how the Ministry apparently held unicorn foals imprisoned in the dungeons under some horrible prison called Azkaban. The unicorns can’t stand to be held captivated so slowly they die from grief. I think this is very evil of the Ministry, especially when the man added that this is the only reason for the greedy Minister of Magic to do so, since he believes that when the unicorns die their corpses will turn into pure gold. Isn’t that horrible?
I felt so relaxed around this man, and he just kept talking about things I know I should remember. But when it saddened me to be around Ginny Weasley, knowing she was a friend of Luna that I couldn’t recall; with this man it all just sounded like a fantastic bedtime story.
The brown-haired Lady came by as the man was about to leave. He kissed me on the top of my head and called me sweetheart. I made me feel very loved and cared for. The Lady smiled and wished him goodnight. Just as she closed the door after him I remembered I hadn’t got his name.
“Who was he?” I asked the Lady as she began all her tests and questioning, and the smile died on her lips. She didn’t look at me when she answered.
“He is your father, Luna.”
I think I might begin to cry as soon as I’m finished writing this down. It’s so unfair that I can’t remember these things. It’s so unfair. And the girl in the picture (whoever she is) won’t look at me either. I think the world is keeping me here only because they can’t find the real Luna Lovegood.
~*~
Friday, August 7th, 1998
Last night the dream was more vivid, though not much - and I still woke up shivering and sweaty, trying to make my head stop spinning. It was red; in the beginning everything was just jets and flashes of red light dancing in the air. I felt as if I was floating in the air with them (or maybe on them, like a never ending red river). Then suddenly the dream changed and I fell down and landed on a field in front of the ruins of an enormous castle. I think I remember that castle, though I’m not sure from where. And in front of it was the girl in my picture - Parkinson. She was searching for something in the grass and there was some sort of red halo glowing around her body (the light came from inside her, from her). Suddenly it exploded and flew towards me. Then I woke up. I have no idea what all of this means. Who am I? Who is Luna Lovegood? I don’t understand… I don’t understand anything anymore.
Ginny Weasley came by around midday. This time Harry Potter wasn’t with her. She told me he was at home, babysitting Hermione’s baby, because today both Hermione and Ron were at work. I don’t know who Hermione is (Ron neither), but if she is one of their friends, she is maybe one of my friends too.
Ginny was singing a little song while she found the things she had brought me (something about diamonds; I think I’ve heard it before, but the voice was different). It seems everybody thinks I need presents, being at a hospital and all. I told her I was not ill but had only been hit by a terrible, red curse (like the Ladies had told me). Ginny lightened up at this and she laughed and smiled and clapped her hands.
“You remember,” she told me, and her bottom lip trembled. “Luna, YOU REMEMBER!”
I didn’t want to tell her I don’t really remember anything; that I only know what the Ladies have told me, so I just nodded and smiled because she did and she was so happy. (Sometimes people need to believe and dream, I won’t spoil it for them.)
There were three packages. One big and two smaller ones. They were all wrapped in blue paper. I liked that blue colour, it was a little lighter than the one of the sky, but very nice. I wanted to run my fingers over it, but I was afraid it should be damaged.
“Open them,” Ginny said to me, so I did. Carefully not ruining the paper. In the big present was a dress. It was blue - the exact same colour as the sky. I thought it was very pretty and it fitted me perfectly when I tried it on. In the two small presents I found a pair of white gloves that went to my elbows and a brooch that was formed like a half moon. I still had no mirror, but when I looked down at myself I thought I was very pretty. Ginny thought so too, she told me herself.
“Don’t you remember the clothes?” she asked me a bit confused. “Don’t you remember that it was the dress we looked at in that Muggle store just before the Last Batt…” She paused and looked away. People don’t seem to like looking at me when they realise I don’t remember Luna Lovegood’s life. It makes me feel so frustrated; it’s not my fault they keep confusing us. She looked at the picture of Parkinson for a long time, frowning. Parkinson was smirking; I guess she knows Ginny too and doesn’t like her all that much.
“I still wonder how the dress and the other things ended up in your suitcase, Luna,” Ginny finally continued. I didn’t know what to say to that, because I wasn’t even aware that this dress was Luna’s before I got it. I’m not sure I like it.
“I don’t know either, but you’ll have to ask Luna when you find her, won’t you?” I said. I have decided I can’t be Luna Lovegood before I know who she is and I can’t know that when people take for granted that I am Luna Lovegood. I will rather be nobody than someone who doesn’t really exist.
Ginny looked shocked. I didn’t like making her worried, but I felt so tired and sad and I am sick of not being able to fully appreciate who I am. I want a mirror. I want to find out what I look like. I want to find out if I resemble someone (maybe Parkinson, maybe the man they tell me is my father but who’s really Luna’s father, not mine - I’m nobody. Nobody’s daughter).
Ginny left quickly after that. I heard her talking to one of the Ladies and they put something in my dinner; I could taste it. But I don’t care. I’m tired now, I just want to sleep without having dreams I don’t understand. I want something to make sense.
I’m so tired…
~*~
Saturday, August 8th, 1998
I didn’t dream last night. My mind was blank and empty. It was relieving in some ways, but also sad. Those dreams are the only fragments of memories I have left of my own. There is no Luna Lovegood in them - only me.
I wonder when Luna Lovegood started becoming my enemy. I remember that I was once just curious about who she was. Now she feels as if she is the only thing holding me back. I want to find myself, not whom people believe to be Luna Lovegood.
All morning I just sat on my bed, leaning against the wall, looking out the window. There’s a street down there full of people who don’t know I’m up here. They maybe don’t even know this world exists. But why should they care? Maybe they are happy in the world they are already in. Who’s to judge?
I don’t know for how long I sat there. I was lost in a world of my own - it was nice (to know it’s my own, not hers). I thought about the little unicorn foals the man told me about, and I thought about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. They are unique; I think I will go try finding some when I get out of here at some point (if ever). They exist, I’m sure of it. They exist just like me.
At some point someone knocked on the door. I thought it was just one of the Ladies (the bushy-haired one, perhaps; she knocks), so I just waited for someone to step in. But when the door had closed there were no voices and no questions. When I looked up I was very surprised to see the girl from my picture standing in the middle of the room.
She was taller than I had expected. And she looked older than in the picture - she looks more like someone’s wife now; more like Mrs Malfoy instead of Parkinson. She is still very beautiful, though (her eyes were cold and emotionless as they surveyed the room and me), beautiful like white roses; attractive despite of their thorns.
“This is for you,” she said without any introduction; pointing to a big, oval and flat package leaning up against the wall besides the door. I didn’t get up to see what it was; I had asked myself so many questions about this girl; felt convinced she was the key to everything, and when she’s finally here… she is just as mysterious as her picture.
“You have already sent me gifts,” I told her, covering my feet with the now orange duvet. I felt cold and abandoned and lonely. (Loony.) Like someone who never really fitted it, not even in the role she was supposed to play.
“This is not for you. This is for Luna.”
Her face was too blank; without any feelings showing. The diamond on her left hand caught the sunlight and I wondered if she loved Malfoy or if she loved his diamonds. Somewhere deep inside my mind an old Muggle song started playing… fragments of lines (a few words; a humming) and a laughter accompanying it.
Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.
“They tell me I’m Luna,” I told her. She is the first person to see the difference. Of all people SHE who I thought would be the key to find out who Luna was (and through that, who I was) was the one to point out that we are not the same.
Parkinson smiled (she knew what I was thinking). “Luna knew my name; you don’t. The Luna I knew was killed in battle months ago and I don’t think she’s coming back.” She looked so tired; tired and angry. She looked like everything I felt. For one crazy moment I wondered if she had heard about the unicorn foals. It was such a strange thing to think about.
“Why not?” I asked her, because she seemed open to questions now. All the questions I had wanted to ask her for days; I could ask her. If I was lucky she’d give me a response that I could use to find out who Luna Lovegood was and who I am.
“I killed her. She would never forgive me for that.”
Parkinson started to turn around slowly. I was suddenly reminded of my dream; the red halo and the ruins of a… a castle… a school, I think. She had been the one to cast the curse; the curse that locked me up in here without any memories. Neither my own nor Luna’s.
“Why?” It’s the most simple question to ask, really. I have been asking it all along. From day one. Why? Why here? Why her? Why blue? Why white? Why? But now I needed to know why Parkinson had cast the curse. What had she been searching for?
Looking over her shoulder at me, Parkinson smirked, though there was no feeling in it. “You look pretty in that dress. You look like her - but you aren’t her.” Her hand held on to the door handle as if it was the safest place she had ever known. “Believe me, it’s easier this way. Like this I won’t… I can’t want something that’s gone, can I?” She sighed. For one short moment (the blink of an eye, did it even exist?) she looked so vulnerable. Like a flower that had been crushed under someone’s boot. “Yes, it’s easier this way.”
She opened the door and left me alone with the gift wrapped in white paper. I got up slowly and walked over to her present, wondering what all this was for. If I had been a warrior in a war I did not even remember or know the cause off, then how was I supposed to know who I had been; who I was and who I am.
How am I supposed to be? Who am I supposed to be?
She has given me a mirror. An oval mirror with flowers in all colours painted around the edge. It hit me that this was the kind of flower I had always liked the most. Pansies.
I stared at myself in the mirror forever (for minutes, hours?). This is how I look like; nothing like Pansy Parkinson (I remember her name, I remember everything). I have long, blonde hair and eyes too big and too wide. (Too blue. Too close to the sky). In this dress I look like one of the girls from a fairy tale - a princess lost in time and space.
“I have always loved blue.”
“I know.”
“With these gloves I can touch the unicorns. They’re white; pure.”
“This was my mothers. You can have it.”
“But it’s only half a moon.”
“The dark side is the side no one sees. Only those who searches for it will see it; if they find it.”
“Are you searching for it?”
“Perhaps.”
I remember. I remember my life as Luna Lovegood. This is who I am; Luna Lovegood, but I have changed. When I look at myself now (it’s night, the room is full of shadows and in the mirror my face is split in two - one in shadow and one in light) I see a stranger; but she is me. She is Luna Lovegood. I am Luna Lovegood, but not the Luna Lovegood of once upon a time. I am someone else.
I remember Pansy. Not Pansy Parkinson nor Pansy Malfoy. I remember Pansy. I remember a day in the Forbidden Forest without fighting and without reality. We looked at the blue, blue sky and we told each other fairy tales. That was when she gave me this dress, the gloves and the brooch. She knew me.
“This will end tonight, Luna.”
“Fairy tales never end.”
“This one will have to. I have to marry him.”
“Why?”
“Because that is how things are.”
“Nothing lacks the ability to change.”
“The moon can’t. She will always only be a round crest of light in the sky.”
“That is not true. Even the moon changes.”
“Not without help from time and the earth.”
“I could visit you.”
“No - I don’t want you to visit me. I want to forget you. It’s easier that way.”
When I look to the frame on my bedside table it’s empty. Pansy is gone and all that is left is green fields and the ruins of Hogwarts. I remember the Last Battle. I remember being a warrior. I remember Pansy being darkness where I was light. I remember and I understand.
“The dark side of the moon will always be more attractive…”
“Why be a white rose when you want to be a pansy?”
“A rose can never become a pansy.”
“You can plant it in new soil and add a little magic…”
I think Pansy will come back at some point when she realises that she has done what was maybe for the best. The moon can’t change without help from time and the earth. A rose can’t change before you plant her in new soil. I’ll wait. Someday she’ll come back…
Someday I will wake up to a frame that is not empty.
~*~
~ animimares