Coming Home (After the Flaw: Oligarchy, Chapter 33)
Title: Coming Home (After the Flaw: Oligarchy, Chapter 33)
Author: kanedax
Spoilers: Previous Chapters
Rating: PG13 for language and situations
Summary: Luna goes home
Notes: I own these characters. The others belong to JK Rowling.
Regrets / Previous Chapters / Victims
"Father! Mother! I'm home!"
Luna Lovegood froze two steps into the house she once shared with Xenophilus Lovegood.
"My goodness," she said, looking around.
"Good Lord," gasped Bill Weasley from behind her as they all got their first look at the house. The ground floor kitchen was a disaster: Every drawer was pulled out, every cupboard open, their contents scattered across the floor. Even individual boxes of food were torn open, with cereal, biscuits, and dried pasta everywhere. The oven, refrigerator and freezer, emptied by Neville and Uri after Luna first arrived at St. Mungo's, also stood ajar.
"Zey have been here," said Fleur Weasley, following Bill, Neville, and Victoire into the kitchen. Neville clinked slightly, his inner pockets filled with vials of Calming Draught, his emergency backup plan for Luna should things go awry.
"I thought you had put up protective charms," said Bill to Neville. "So the Oligarchy wouldn't--"
"Not now," said Neville, whose eyes were glued to Luna. By all accounts, her personality had been that of a much younger girl since they had Apparated from just outside the Hogwarts gate this morning. She was looking around the kitchen frantically, in a way that was very un-Luna.
"Mother? Mother!"
She was off before they could react, running up the spiral staircase in the middle of the kitchen.
"Damn it," Neville grumbled. "I'll go after her. Try to explain... something before she gets too upset."
"Good idea," said Bill as Neville scaled the stairs. "The rest of the house can't look much better."
"We will look here," said Fleur. "See if we can find anything. See if we can make anything of zis mess," she added under her breath.
Victoire nodded, still trying to adjust to the stony mood of Professor Longbottom. She understood his reaction, of course, as putting Luna in this position was the exactly what they had been told to not do. Putting Luna in the Lovegood house meant the possibility of having to confront the death of her parents. In her fragile state, it might be too much to learn. So when Victoire had suggested to Neville that she be brought here as soon as possible, he agreed only after much debate. Even now, he still wasn't fully behind the idea, and the look that he gave Victoire as he ascended the stairs showed hints that he was already regretting the decision.
Maman's reaction to Luna since this morning did nothing to make Victoire feel more comfortable with this idea. After all, Fleur recognized that an eight year old Luna would do nothing to help them find research written by a thirty-eight year old Luna. Unfortunately, Victoire was starting to believe it, too.
"There might be a hiding place," said her father bracingly, feeling his wife's mood on his skin like a static charge. "Some place that she used to hide things when she was young that she'd still be using today."
"Eef we can find a hiding place," said Fleur, "ze Oligarchy would surely have found eet already. Zees is pointless."
"Let's just look," Victoire, trying hard to restrain her sigh. "We'll scour the house if we have to."
What was she thinking, anyway? That Luna would come here and instantly remember who she was? That some switch would be thrown in her head at the sight of her childhood home, and she'd be better? Uncle Charlie had been living with Grandmum and Granddad Weasley for months, and he was just as bad as he was the night he had been hit with his Charm.
A piercing scream erupted from upstairs, pulling the Weasleys out of their various funks. As one, they turned to the stairs, pulled their wands, and ran up, Bill in the lead, Fleur and Victoire close behind.
Shit, Victoire thought as they climbed. Someone's still here, they left someone behind to guard the house. Luna. Neville. All my fault all my fault all my--
"Who are you?" Luna was crying. "What did you do to my mother and father? Where are they?"
She huddled as tightly into the corner of the first floor sitting room as she could. This was a particularly mean feat, considering the room was completely round. Bill, Fleur, and Victoire looked around anxiously, but there was no one there but Luna and Neville.
"I didn't do anything to them," said Neville carefully. "There... There was an accident. Nothing to worry about at all, Luna! Luna, if you could take a sip of this..." he said, holding out the calming solution.
"They're not here!" she cried. "Where are they?"
"They... They... They went to the shop," Neville stammered, panicking. "There was an... an accident, but they're fine, and your mother's just missing an ingredient for a potion, and she wants to make sure she has it before they clean up--"
Careful with the talk about mother and potions, Professor... Victoire thought despairingly.
"Why do you lie to me? Are you a Death Eater? Did my father write something that you don't like? Who are you?" Luna asked, noticing the three Weasleys standing by the stairs, wands pulled defensively.
"We're friends," said Bill, holding his hands up, as if they would somehow calm down the distraught Lovegood.
"Zis is no good," said Fleur. "We should get her out of here before she breaks completely."
"I agree," said Neville. "I'm sorry, Victoire, but we can't keep her here. Not with the house in the condition it's in. I'm sorry."
"Alright," said Victoire, her heart sinking. It was a smart idea, despite its numerous flaws. Get here where she's comfortable, get her to the most likely place where the research would be hidden, and hope she can tell them something. Bringing her back to Hogwarts would be going back to square one. Less than square one, since she'd be further away from wherever she hid the copies. But as long as Luna was hidden inside her own mind, they couldn't find the memories that--
No.
No.
No.
"Why didn't I think of this before?" Victoire gasped.
Because you don't know how to do it, because you could fuck up Luna worse than she is now, because you could fuck yourself up worse than you are now.
"What other choice is there?" she retorted.
"What are you talking about?" asked Bill, eyeing his daughter warily.
"I need to borrow Luna," said Victoire firmly.
"You need to what?" Bill asked as Victoire walked towards Neville and Luna. As she did, Luna shrunk back against the wall protectively.
"Luna," said Victoire, gently, so gently, kneeling down in front of the woman. "I'm here to help you."
"Who are you?" Luna asked.
"My name's Victoire."
"Victor?"
"You can call me Vickie," she replied. "Your mummy and daddy aren't here right now."
"Will they be back?"
"Of course they will," Victoire said, wondering if she was damning herself for lying to this child of nearly forty. "Do you like your bedroom, Luna? Is it pretty?"
"It is," said Luna, studying Victoire warily. "It's very pretty. I have flowers and... When will they be back?"
"They'll be home soon. Could you show me your room, Luna? I'd like to see it."
Victoire slowly, carefully, held out her hand to Luna.
"Why are we taking her to her bedroom?" Neville, now standing back with Victoire's parents, asked uncertainly.
"We're not," said Victoire. "I am."
"No," he replied. "No, Victoire, I'm sorry, but she needs to be out of this house--"
"Profess-- Neville, please," Victoire said. "I have an idea--"
"Another bad idea?"
"Not... as bad," Victoire reluctantly admitted. "But it's the best I have. The best that we have. And only I can do it."
"And why can't we be with you?" asked Neville.
"Because you weren't there that night."
"What?"
"What?" Bill echoed. "What are you going to do?"
"Victoire," said Fleur, understanding what her daughter was going to do. To try to do. "Victoire, be so careful. Zees is very dangerous."
"I know," Victoire said, her hand still held to Luna. "But... Well, it can't get any worse, can it?"
"You're never supposed to say that," said Neville flatly.
"Professor Longbottom, please," said Victoire, turning her gaze from Luna to Neville, holding him there. Neville seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of letting the teenage train wreck take care of his mentally unstable best friend, even for ten seconds.
"I know what I'm doing," said Victoire, trying her best not to say I hope. "She'll be safe."
"What are you going to do?" Neville asked.
"I don't know. I'm kind of making it up as I go."
"But you just said--"
"I have the basic gist of it down."
"Let her try," said Bill, nodding slowly. "I think... Yeah, I know what she's going to do. Let her try."
Neville looked helplessly between the three Weasleys. "This is... the dream thing, isn't it?"
"Yeah," said Victoire.
"Dreams?" said Luna. "This is a dream?"
"It is," said Victoire, and that was close enough to the truth, wasn't it? "And we want to help you wake up."
"To see Mother and Father again?"
"Yeah," said Victoire. Or at least somewhere where you'll understand.
"Alright," said Luna, taking Victoire's hand.
"Vickie..." said Neville warily as Luna came to her feet, her hand clutched in Victoire's.
"If we're not out in... five minutes?"
"Ten," said Neville reluctantly. "I have a feeling this is going to be delicate work. The last thing I want you to do is rush through it." And he handed Victoire the bottle of Calming Draught. "Might help," he said with a shrug.
"Thanks," said Victoire, taking the potion and allowing Luna to take her up the stairs to the second floor, where her breath was taken away. She barely noticed the same damage in Luna's room as everywhere else in the house. Instead...
"Do you know them?" asked Luna as Victoire spun in a slow circle, taking in the faces painted on the ceiling.
There was Uncle Harry and his lightning-bolt scar. Uncle Ron, his hair so much more there than it was today. Aunt Jean, the only Hermione Granger in the world this painting was imagined. Aunt Ginny, her red hair without a touch of gray, and Professor Longbottom, rounder and happier and than the one sitting downstairs, worried sick for the woman who had painted him in the first place.
They were young. They were... well, not innocent or carefree, considering the shadow cast over them by Voldemort. But they were...
"Beautiful," Victoire breathed.
"Thank you," said Luna, barely noticing the five children circling her bed. "I must have painted them in my sleep. I often do things when I am asleep that I do not know until I am awake again. Do you know them?"
"Do you?"
"I do not," said Luna, sitting on her bed. "But I will, I am sure. I often see things happen before they do. And they are my friends."
"How do you... oh," said Victoire, leaning forward to look at the gold chain running between the five. As she saw the word emblazoned over and over, she felt a lump grow in her throat. It struck her again just how unfair this entire situation was. Luna didn't deserve what happened to her, and neither did her friends, Victoire's family, floating overhead. Aunt Ginny didn't deserve what happened to her, either. Nor did Uncle Percy, Aunt Penelope, Gid and Fab and Uncle Charlie and--
To have so many links of that chain damaged, she thought, feeling her tears welling beneath the surface. Of course I have to do whatever I can to fix it again.
"I'm wearing glasses," said Luna simply, touching the sides of her face. "I just noticed. And my hair is shorter."
"Yeah," said Victoire, her voice touched. "Yeah, you... It's Polyjuice. You were playing a game, remember? And..."
"I wasn't," said Luna. "But thank you for lying to make me feel better."
"You... You know?"
"I know there is something wrong with me," said Luna. "I'm taller and my hair is shorter, and I have glasses and breasts, and there are people in my house who I don't know, and my parents are not here, even though you all say they will be back."
"There's... Well, we're trying to make you better," said Victoire carefully.
"I know," said Luna, her serene smile returning. "I thank you for that. What would you like me to do?"
"I need you to... well, um," Victoire stammered, put off-balance by Luna's sudden attitude shift. "I mean, if you're not uncomfortable with this, um..."
"What would you like me to do?" Luna repeated. "I like you, Vickie. You're very nice, and I trust you. You're not old like they are."
Victoire bit back the comment about someone twice her age saying that, then nodded. In Luna's mind, after all, Victoire was ten years her elder. "I need you to, um, take a nap? Is that something you can do?"
"I can try," said Luna. "Although I am not very tired. It has been a very trying day."
Did she really talk like this when she was nine? Victoire thought with some amazement, or is another part of her starting to come through?
"Do you want some of this Calming Draught?"
"No thank you," said Luna, lying down on her bed. "They make me burp. I do not think that would be conducive to sleep."
"I suppose it wouldn't," said Victoire, wondering if she should down a bit of it herself. Now that she was actually planning what she was planning, her nerves were pounding in her stomach. In the end, though, she allowed Luna to make herself comfortable on the bed. As she waited, Victoire looked around the rest of the room, noting the framed photographs scattered haphazardly across her desk. One photograph, its glass front cracked, was of a very young Luna with who Victoire assumed was her mother, Europa. Another was of her and her father in front of a tent in some unnamed jungle, one of many they had visited in the last two decades.
A third photograph, which drew Victoire's attention more than the others, was taken in front of a well-lit city shoreline, apparently from the deck of a boat. It was Luna, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Jean, and Neville, along with the current heads of the Auror and Muggle Liaison Departments. All appeared to be Victoire's age in the picture, and all were bundled up against the cold, snow falling from the upper edge of the frame. All of them were smiling broadly and waving to the camera, Jean and Ginny looking particularly giddy.
Is that the night? Victoire thought. She'd often heard the story of their surprise double engagement of Harry and Ginny and of Ron and Jean, leading to the double wedding, and remembered that they were in New York when it happened. It's so beautiful, she thought, feeling another stab in her chest. That's what she needed. What they had. She needed to get away. Far away. See new worlds, explore new cultures. Find herself like they found themselves. Get away from the stress of war and family and...
Don't think about him, she said, snapping herself back to reality. Focus on this. Your connection to Ted's so strong that you might take the wrong path if you're not careful.
"I'm not able to fall asleep right now," said Luna as Victoire put down the photograph of the last generation.
"That's... that's okay," said Victoire, sighing. It was a last-ditch effort, really. The odds of it actually working were slim to none to begin with.
"Will you still be able to fix me?"
"We'll try," said Victoire, her mind beginning to race. What else was there? How else could they fix Luna without the Oligarchy? And without Luna, how could they find the Oligarchy in order to fix her?
Who says she needs to sleep?
Because that's how I always communicate with Ted, Victoire retorted. Because that's the only way that it's ever been.
No, it hasn't.
When? Victoire thought, her brow furrowing. When did it happen? There was an inkling in the back of her head, a remembrance...
Flames. Heat. Screaming horses.
Buckbeak.
The night of the attack. Her voice was gone. Yet she spoke to Buckbeak, calmed him down.
"She's not a hippogryff," Victoire countered to herself.
"I do not think I am one," said Luna. "Did I think I was one earlier?"
You spoke to the Darkness Man, too.
She did. She remembered it now. While it wasn't a joining of minds like she did with Ted, a two-way communication, she had been able to connect with another mind while conscious. It made her wonder just how many of her fantasies while awake were--
Forget the fantasies. You can connect with Luna. Now.
"Okay," said Victoire with a deep breath, sitting down on the bed beside Luna. "I need you to... I don't know... open your mind?"
"My mind is always open," said Luna.
"True," Victoire chuckled. "Alright... Well, this is the first time that I've done this, and if it turns out that Ted's the psychic, then I'm going to look like an idiot..."
"I trust you," said Luna, taking Victoire's hand and squeezing it.
"That makes one of us," Victoire said with a nervous smile. "Alright, I'll stop talking and just... um..."
Think about the night. Think about reaching out to Ted. How do you do it?
And it was easy. Surprisingly, amazingly easy. Victoire closed her eyes, opened her mind, and could feel... something reaching out from inside her, like a potion's vapors in a gentle breeze. She felt them envelop... Luna's mind, it had to be, there was a barrier that it, she was wrapping around.
Then she found a crack.
She was in.
---------
And Victoire suddenly realized that she had no idea what she was doing.
When she met Ted Lupin's mind, whether in his own head or out in some other reality where this kind of thing is possible, it was relatively straightforward. He was seeking her out, after all. His mind, his memories, his true self, was there to be found. Like the night of the attack, she often found her dream self traveling through a hall, a tunnel, or something else to get to him, but these paths were always straight, always clear-cut. Always obvious. Ted was always looking for her, after all, whether he knew it or not. He opened the path for her, and she took it.
Luna, however...
When Victoire was eight, Charlotte and Daniel Granger had taken Ted and HC to Wookey Hole. Victoire, after immeasurable amounts of begging and puppy dog eyes to both the Grangers and her own parents, was allowed to go along, her father in tow (Fleur Weasley wouldn't be caught dead in such a dank and dirty cave).
They went on a tour of the caverns, Bill trying hard not to laugh as the tour guide discussed the legend of the Wookey Witch, who had in fact carved the stalagmite into a rough copy of herself after Confunding the monk who had come to seek vengeance. She had gone on to live for decades in nearby Badger Hole, spoiling even more romances before she died in the mid-sixteenth century.
Even though they knew for a fact that the rock was just a rock, however, the three children were still frightened by the story, and were still on edge after they came out of the caverns to visit the attached amusement park.
Particularly the hall of mirrors.
Victoire talked her father into letting her go in with just Ted and HC. However, after losing she lost her bearings completely in the infinite reflections, Bill had to come in after his daughter, who had been reduced to a sobbing wreck on the floor.
She was starting to feel that way now.
How much of this is the Memory Charm? thought Victoire as she "looked" around the vast maelstrom of memories. How much of it is me jumping into a mind that wasn't ready for me? How much of it is simply Luna being Luna?
Despite her often confusing nature, Victoire knew enough about Luna to know that she should have one of the most organized minds she had ever known. But this wasn't that. Stimuli were everywhere she could "see". Images flashed by her, reflected her, reflected themselves, multiplied, warped, changed with each moment. Victoire felt herself stagger against the current of memory.
What's memory? What's memory, what's imagination, what's Luna's hypotheses of how things could be?
What the hell am I doing here?
There was Luna, seen from her own eyes, facing Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. There was Luna fighting bravely against a swarm of flesh-eating pineapples. There was Luna sailing down the Congo river with her father and her girlfriend, Milinka, in search of the Sankuru Serpent. Here was Luna eating half a grapefruit on March 31st, 1990. Here was Luna chained in the darkness of Malfoy Manor, unable to even see the ground she was seated on. Here was Luna watching her mother die, and seeing her first Thestral upon her arrival at Hogwarts.
How Victoire knew as much about what she was seeing, she didn't know, but could guess. She was in Luna's mind. She was a part of it now.
Here was Luna looking at Neville at the wedding of Harry and Ginny, of Ron and Hermione, and Victoire felt the rush of love that she knew didn't belong to her. Loving him the night James was born.
Can I get out again?
Luna gazing upon the Crumple-Horned Snorcack for the first time. The Sankuru Serpent. The Stymphalian Birds.
Is the Memory Charm contagious?
Luna remembering, or theorizing, or fantasizing about making love to Charlie and Neville and Harry and Ginny and Milinka and Viktor and Hermione and, in one brief flash, Victoire thought she saw her own naked body, her own blonde head between Luna's pale legs--
What the hell am I doing here?
Luna's friends dying. Luna's father dying. Luna defending herself against the Stymphalian. Luna watching Harry break up with Hermione at Dumbledore's wedding, watching he, Neville (with his lightning-bolt scar), and Ginny leave to hunt for the Horcruxes. Luna sitting in the Ravenclaw Common Room, hearing the mingled giggles as her classmates made quiet jokes about her, thinking she couldn't hear them.
wait
I have to leave, I have to get out I'll go mad or I'll get wiped like Luna
go back you saw it go back
I can't be here I have to leave this was a mistake
do what you need to do you saw it
no I
Victoire stopped, forcing her mind to stop its chattering as the world of Luna Lovegood's mind spun around her. She did see it. She saw Luna attack the Stymphalian Bird. Saw her kill it. Saw Xenophilius Lovegood die. She remembered.
Somewhere in this storm of memory, Luna remembered.
"Luna!"
She cried out, not knowing how much good it would do if she didn't have a voice. She didn't care.
"Luna! Are you here? It's Victoire! Can you hear me?"
""""""Victoire?""""""
The voice came from all around her. Fragmented. This Memory Charm works wonders, thought Victoire. Luna can't even find herself in this mess. She keeps reflecting around, no wonder she doesn't know who she is.
"Do you know who I am?"
"Of course I do who are you you've gotten so old!"
Oh great, Victoire sighed. This is going to be harder than I thought.
As if you thought this was going to be remotely easy.
"Aren't you seven twelve two eighteen Viktor? eleven five not born nine?"
"Damn it," Victoire muttered. "Luna, we don't have a lot of time, because I don't know how long it's going to be before the Memory Charm wipes you again, so just do exactly what I say. My name's Victoire Weasley. I'm the daughter of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour, oldest granddaughter of Arthur and Molly. If you don't know who I am, please be quiet."
""But--""
"Please!"
"""We know you."""
"Good," said Victoire. "I'm nineteen years old. If you don't know me at nineteen, please be quiet."
""We know you.""
"Do you remember the night Charles and I came to visit you?" Victoire asked, knowing she had to be very careful now. "The night that... the night you were in Poland?"
Silence was all that responded. Push a little further.
"Do you... Do you remember... a fire?"
"father? are you alive?"
The voice was so quiet, so scared, so un-Luna. This was the voice that Neville was terrified of: the voice that could break Luna completely. Victoire needed to avoid that voice for as long as she could.
You don't need to go that far, she decided. The research existed before that moment. You don't need to push Luna there. Just nudge her as close as you can get...
"Do you remember the first night we met you in the wild?" Victoire asked, feeling her mind starting to get fuzzy. "The night with the Gorynyches?"
"I..."
"father?"
"I remember."
"After that night," Victoire explained, "you created some research on the Stymphalian Birds. A book, or a portfolio, or... or... you never showed it to me, though... I don't think."
HURRY! The Memory Charm's starting to affect you!
"Do you remember anything like that?"
"I remember writing notes... Making maps... Collecting... something..."
"You made a copy."
"I did make a copy."
"A copy of... what?"
Shit... no no no, hurry hurry Victoire hurry!
"I copied all of the research... Protean Charms..."
"Where?"
"I... I don't..."
"Where? Where am I?"
Victoire, get out, NOW!
"Luna, grab on to me!" Victoire yelled, not sure if this was going to work or not. She could feel Luna's memory collapsing around her, the reflections and barriers closing upon her faster than she imagined. She reached out what she thought was her hand, grasping for something she didn't know existed.
"Luna! Grab on to me!"
She felt... something... grab... somewhere... She hoped she knew what she was doing.
Victoire pulled
---------
and opened her eyes. She was in Luna's room, just as demolished as it was minutes (seconds? hours?) before. The blond woman on the bed beside her opened her own eyes. Searched the room serenely. Looked at her.
"Hello, Victoire."
My name's Victoire?
Of COURSE it's Victoire! Shake it off.
Victoire did, as well as she could. She seemed completely herself. She knew where she was, knew who she was, knew the day and the woman in front of her and the people in the hallway. She breathed a sigh of relief. The Memory Charm didn't cross over.
"Luna?"
"I am glad you're calling me that," said Luna with a quiet smile. "You always call me Madam Lovegood, and I think that is far too formal for our friendship."
"You're back?"
"Why are we in my room? I recall that I was in bed with Charles after we had had sex..."
"You're back!" Victoire cried, diving at Luna and wrapping her arms around her. She could feel the tears of relief coming close. After all those months--
"I am not back," Luna said calmly. "It is winter, is it not?"
"It is," said Victorie into Luna's shoulder.
"It was fall when we last spoke," said Luna. "I was cursed with a Memory Charm, yes?"
"You were."
"I still have it," said Luna. "I can already feel it working its way back into my memories. We do not have much time."
"No," said Victoire, panicking. "No, you have to stay, you've been gone for so long, you and Uncle Charlie--"
"Charles was cursed, as well?"
"It's a long story..."
"I will hear it sometime," Luna nodded, pulling Victoire away from her. "One day when I can remember it. What is it you need of me, Victoire? You risked your safety and your memory to find me. I know this, you were in my mind. What is it you require? Speak quickly, for I do not have much time."
"Your research," Victoire said. "You have a copy of your research on the Stymphalian Birds. Where did you hide it?"
"I do not know."
"You..." Victoire groaned, her heart collapsing. All that work. All those hopes. And the Memory Charm was still doing its work.
"I do not know where it is," Luna said. "But mother does."
"Mother?" Victoire blinked. "Europa Lovegood?"
"Yes, she does," said Luna, pushing herself from the bed.
"Luna, um..." Victoire knew she needed to be as tactful as possible. She thought she was speaking to the most recent Luna she could find. If she thought her mother was still alive...
"I hid the research," Luna explained, taking Victoire's hand. "Then I hid my memory of its location."
"You... hid... the memory?" Victoire stumbled as Luna pulled her to the desk, where Victoire had been examining the photographs just minutes before.
"I cast a Memory Charm on myself," Luna said. "Only one person knows where it is. Soon it will be three. Hello, Mother," she said, picking up the photograph of her younger self with Europa Lovegood. Europa looked up, through the cracked glass, and waved to the older Luna. Victoire had seen this countless times in her life, whenever she looked at a magical photograph, but this amazed her nonetheless. Photographs moved, yes, and interacted with other objects and people within the boundaries of the paper. Very rarely, though, did they interact with people in the three-dimensional world. That particular trait was reserved for portraits, which held particularly powerful memories of the witch or wizard who had already left the world. Portraits were singular, it had been explained to her when she was younger. Only one could be made, with any future attempts merely becoming gateways for the original figure, like Phinneas Black's portrait at Grimmauld Place.
Photographs, on the other hand, could never hold the same strength and personality, since they were cheap, easy, and plentiful. To have Europa's photograph even silently interacting with Luna meant powerful magic was at work.
"Mother," said Luna, motioning Victoire closer, "this is Victoire. You can show her where I hid my research. You can trust her, because I trust her. Can you do that?"
Europa, her eyes just as protuberant and warm as her daughter's, nodded again, waving to Victoire this time.
"She will help you when I'm gone," said Luna to Victoire. "Thank you so much, Mother," she said back to the photograph. "I know the Oligarchy must not have been very nice to you and the others when they came to visit. Can you fix the frame for me?" she asked Victoire. "The rest of the house is fine as it is for now, but I would be very upset if I knew that Mother's photograph wasn't its best."
"Of course," said Victoire with a sad smile.
"I love you, Mother," she said, kissing the cracked frame. "I'll be back soon."
"Luna..." said Victoire, unable to find the words of gratitude that she felt she needed to say to Luna as she set the frame back down onto her desk. Instead, she wrapped her arms around the woman, hugging her tightly.
"You'll fix me," said Luna to Victoire as they hugged. "I know you will all try your best."
"We will," said Victoire.
"Tell Charles, even though he will not remember... Tell Charles that I am thinking of him."
"I will," Victoire said. "Thank you." Then, because she didn't know what else to do to thank her, she kissed Luna on the lips.
Oh, what the hell? Victoire thought. She's going to forget it anyway, but it'll make her happy for at least this second.
"Victoire? Is everything... Oh!"
Victoire pulled away from Luna to see Neville standing in the door, his jaw hanging open.
"Is... um..." he stammered, staring at the two women. "Is everything alright? Did... it... work?"
"This... uh... this wasn't it," said Victoire quickly.
"Hello," said Luna dreamily. "Thank you for the kiss. Who are you?"
"It didn't work," said Neville glumly.
"That wasn't it!" Victoire repeated firmly, picking up Europa's photograph. "And, yes, it worked. Hello, Mrs. Lovegood," she said. "I'm Victoire. Luna just introduced us. You remember me, right?"
"You're speaking to a photograph?" said Luna, staring over Victoire's shoulder as Europa nodded. "That's silly."
"Luna asked you to show me the research," said Victoire as Neville joined the two of them, standing behind Victoire's other shoulder. "Can you tell me where it is?"
Europa gave a reluctant shrug, then ran her finger along the crack in the glass.
"Oh!" said Victoire, nodding. "Yeah, I can take care of... yeah, hang on." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the frame. "Reparo!" and with a quiet tink the glass became whole again. "So, where is it?"
Europa looked over Victoire's right shoulder, and pointed at Neville.
"Professor... what?" said Victoire, looking over her shoulder.
"I don't know what she's talking about," Neville shrugged. "I don't have the research."
Europa rolled her eyes, then, pointing again at Neville, pointed at her own head.
"In... In Neville's head?" said Victoire, staring at Neville like he was a particularly difficult question on her N.E.W.T.s. "Oh, God, no. I don't... Please don't make me have to go into somebody else's mind."
"You went into her brain?" Neville said, his eyes wide. "You didn't, just, like, interpret her dreams or something?"
Europa repeated the motions over and over, eventually pointing to the ceiling.
"The... The... Neville's head!" Victoire cried, realizing that Europa was pointing to the five paintings watching over the bedroom. "Of course!" Victoire pulled the chair from Luna's desk, positioning it under Neville's portrait. "Watch me, Professor," she said, climbing up. "I should be tall enough, but make sure I don't fall."
"Of course," said Neville, putting his hands on Victoire's hips as she climbed onto the chair. "Careful."
"Almost..." said Victoire, standing on her toes and stretching out. "I think I can reach it."
"I'm taller," said Neville. "Do you need me to--?"
"No, I almost... have... it... Where was she pointing?"
"Between the eyes," said Neville.
"Those are pretty," said Luna, entranced as she looked on. "Who painted them?"
"Okay..." said Victoire, reaching with her index finger for the point of the painting where Neville's eyebrows met. "Right... GOT IT!"
There was a minute click, and Victoire felt something push in beneath the painting, like a button covered with cloth. She wondered briefly what charm Luna had used to blend the button into the old painting so well when Neville's entire face swung open like a door.
"It's a shelf!" said Neville as Victoire jumped up in her excitement, grasping for whatever was on the overhanging ledge where Neville's jaw used to be. She felt paper, and after three more leaps (Neville was holding her as tight as he could), paper began to fall to the floor: parchment, notebooks, newspapers, and...
"Maps!" said Victoire with joy, jumping down from the chair to gather up the research. "A map, with... Oh, God..."
She fell to her knees, spreading out the map of Europe on the carpet. There was a crooked red line running along it, starting in Greece (marked 11/18 in Luna's curving handwriting), crossing into Belarus (2/19), the Ukraine (6/19), Belarus (7/19), and Lithuania (8/19).
"Then into Kaliningrad," Victoire breathed. "That was where we were going to go the night the Stymphalians attacked, I guess. It's just north of where we were camped in Poland, look..."
"These newspapers match up with the dates," said Neville, sitting down on the floor beside Luna and flipping through them. "I think. My Lithuanian's rusty. The Ukraine in June... That's where you found those dragons, right? The three-headed ones?"
"She was tracking the Stymphalians through Muggle news reports," said Victoire with a nod. "Unexplained phenomena. That's how she found out about Kaliningrad. And there have to be more reports like that. If the Stymphalians are still on the move--"
"Which they'd have to be," said Neville. "And if there aren't any more reports, then that means they've been taken out of commission."
"We can find them," said Victoire, grabbing the hand-written parchment. "She has... theories of movement patterns, and behaviors. Breakdowns of what time of day they were found, if they were rural or... mountains... forests..."
"We did it?" said Neville. "We can track them?"
"It's going to take some work," said Victoire, her heart racing. "But, yes, I think we can. And I think know how to kill them."
"You do?"
"I do," said Victoire.
"Where does it say that?"
"It doesn't," said Victoire. "But I saw it."
"You could have told me that before now..."
"I just saw it in her mind. But we have to find them first. And... damn it."
"What?" Neville asked. "Something wrong? We can't find them?"
"No, we can," said Victoire. "But... um... I know who could help us. And... damn it."
"What's wrong?"
Victoire closed her eyes, her head suddenly pounding, her stomach churning. "We need to search Muggle newspapers," she said. "We need to search them fast. We'll need a computer."
"A what?"
"Muggle equipment," Victoire said nervously. "I barely know how to use one, and one person who knows computers better than anyone I know, someone who could help us find what we need as fast as we can...
"I'll need to talk to HC."
Regrets / Previous Chapters / Victims
Author: kanedax
Spoilers: Previous Chapters
Rating: PG13 for language and situations
Summary: Luna goes home
Notes: I own these characters. The others belong to JK Rowling.
Regrets / Previous Chapters / Victims
"Father! Mother! I'm home!"
Luna Lovegood froze two steps into the house she once shared with Xenophilus Lovegood.
"My goodness," she said, looking around.
"Good Lord," gasped Bill Weasley from behind her as they all got their first look at the house. The ground floor kitchen was a disaster: Every drawer was pulled out, every cupboard open, their contents scattered across the floor. Even individual boxes of food were torn open, with cereal, biscuits, and dried pasta everywhere. The oven, refrigerator and freezer, emptied by Neville and Uri after Luna first arrived at St. Mungo's, also stood ajar.
"Zey have been here," said Fleur Weasley, following Bill, Neville, and Victoire into the kitchen. Neville clinked slightly, his inner pockets filled with vials of Calming Draught, his emergency backup plan for Luna should things go awry.
"I thought you had put up protective charms," said Bill to Neville. "So the Oligarchy wouldn't--"
"Not now," said Neville, whose eyes were glued to Luna. By all accounts, her personality had been that of a much younger girl since they had Apparated from just outside the Hogwarts gate this morning. She was looking around the kitchen frantically, in a way that was very un-Luna.
"Mother? Mother!"
She was off before they could react, running up the spiral staircase in the middle of the kitchen.
"Damn it," Neville grumbled. "I'll go after her. Try to explain... something before she gets too upset."
"Good idea," said Bill as Neville scaled the stairs. "The rest of the house can't look much better."
"We will look here," said Fleur. "See if we can find anything. See if we can make anything of zis mess," she added under her breath.
Victoire nodded, still trying to adjust to the stony mood of Professor Longbottom. She understood his reaction, of course, as putting Luna in this position was the exactly what they had been told to not do. Putting Luna in the Lovegood house meant the possibility of having to confront the death of her parents. In her fragile state, it might be too much to learn. So when Victoire had suggested to Neville that she be brought here as soon as possible, he agreed only after much debate. Even now, he still wasn't fully behind the idea, and the look that he gave Victoire as he ascended the stairs showed hints that he was already regretting the decision.
Maman's reaction to Luna since this morning did nothing to make Victoire feel more comfortable with this idea. After all, Fleur recognized that an eight year old Luna would do nothing to help them find research written by a thirty-eight year old Luna. Unfortunately, Victoire was starting to believe it, too.
"There might be a hiding place," said her father bracingly, feeling his wife's mood on his skin like a static charge. "Some place that she used to hide things when she was young that she'd still be using today."
"Eef we can find a hiding place," said Fleur, "ze Oligarchy would surely have found eet already. Zees is pointless."
"Let's just look," Victoire, trying hard to restrain her sigh. "We'll scour the house if we have to."
What was she thinking, anyway? That Luna would come here and instantly remember who she was? That some switch would be thrown in her head at the sight of her childhood home, and she'd be better? Uncle Charlie had been living with Grandmum and Granddad Weasley for months, and he was just as bad as he was the night he had been hit with his Charm.
A piercing scream erupted from upstairs, pulling the Weasleys out of their various funks. As one, they turned to the stairs, pulled their wands, and ran up, Bill in the lead, Fleur and Victoire close behind.
Shit, Victoire thought as they climbed. Someone's still here, they left someone behind to guard the house. Luna. Neville. All my fault all my fault all my--
"Who are you?" Luna was crying. "What did you do to my mother and father? Where are they?"
She huddled as tightly into the corner of the first floor sitting room as she could. This was a particularly mean feat, considering the room was completely round. Bill, Fleur, and Victoire looked around anxiously, but there was no one there but Luna and Neville.
"I didn't do anything to them," said Neville carefully. "There... There was an accident. Nothing to worry about at all, Luna! Luna, if you could take a sip of this..." he said, holding out the calming solution.
"They're not here!" she cried. "Where are they?"
"They... They... They went to the shop," Neville stammered, panicking. "There was an... an accident, but they're fine, and your mother's just missing an ingredient for a potion, and she wants to make sure she has it before they clean up--"
Careful with the talk about mother and potions, Professor... Victoire thought despairingly.
"Why do you lie to me? Are you a Death Eater? Did my father write something that you don't like? Who are you?" Luna asked, noticing the three Weasleys standing by the stairs, wands pulled defensively.
"We're friends," said Bill, holding his hands up, as if they would somehow calm down the distraught Lovegood.
"Zis is no good," said Fleur. "We should get her out of here before she breaks completely."
"I agree," said Neville. "I'm sorry, Victoire, but we can't keep her here. Not with the house in the condition it's in. I'm sorry."
"Alright," said Victoire, her heart sinking. It was a smart idea, despite its numerous flaws. Get here where she's comfortable, get her to the most likely place where the research would be hidden, and hope she can tell them something. Bringing her back to Hogwarts would be going back to square one. Less than square one, since she'd be further away from wherever she hid the copies. But as long as Luna was hidden inside her own mind, they couldn't find the memories that--
No.
No.
No.
"Why didn't I think of this before?" Victoire gasped.
Because you don't know how to do it, because you could fuck up Luna worse than she is now, because you could fuck yourself up worse than you are now.
"What other choice is there?" she retorted.
"What are you talking about?" asked Bill, eyeing his daughter warily.
"I need to borrow Luna," said Victoire firmly.
"You need to what?" Bill asked as Victoire walked towards Neville and Luna. As she did, Luna shrunk back against the wall protectively.
"Luna," said Victoire, gently, so gently, kneeling down in front of the woman. "I'm here to help you."
"Who are you?" Luna asked.
"My name's Victoire."
"Victor?"
"You can call me Vickie," she replied. "Your mummy and daddy aren't here right now."
"Will they be back?"
"Of course they will," Victoire said, wondering if she was damning herself for lying to this child of nearly forty. "Do you like your bedroom, Luna? Is it pretty?"
"It is," said Luna, studying Victoire warily. "It's very pretty. I have flowers and... When will they be back?"
"They'll be home soon. Could you show me your room, Luna? I'd like to see it."
Victoire slowly, carefully, held out her hand to Luna.
"Why are we taking her to her bedroom?" Neville, now standing back with Victoire's parents, asked uncertainly.
"We're not," said Victoire. "I am."
"No," he replied. "No, Victoire, I'm sorry, but she needs to be out of this house--"
"Profess-- Neville, please," Victoire said. "I have an idea--"
"Another bad idea?"
"Not... as bad," Victoire reluctantly admitted. "But it's the best I have. The best that we have. And only I can do it."
"And why can't we be with you?" asked Neville.
"Because you weren't there that night."
"What?"
"What?" Bill echoed. "What are you going to do?"
"Victoire," said Fleur, understanding what her daughter was going to do. To try to do. "Victoire, be so careful. Zees is very dangerous."
"I know," Victoire said, her hand still held to Luna. "But... Well, it can't get any worse, can it?"
"You're never supposed to say that," said Neville flatly.
"Professor Longbottom, please," said Victoire, turning her gaze from Luna to Neville, holding him there. Neville seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of letting the teenage train wreck take care of his mentally unstable best friend, even for ten seconds.
"I know what I'm doing," said Victoire, trying her best not to say I hope. "She'll be safe."
"What are you going to do?" Neville asked.
"I don't know. I'm kind of making it up as I go."
"But you just said--"
"I have the basic gist of it down."
"Let her try," said Bill, nodding slowly. "I think... Yeah, I know what she's going to do. Let her try."
Neville looked helplessly between the three Weasleys. "This is... the dream thing, isn't it?"
"Yeah," said Victoire.
"Dreams?" said Luna. "This is a dream?"
"It is," said Victoire, and that was close enough to the truth, wasn't it? "And we want to help you wake up."
"To see Mother and Father again?"
"Yeah," said Victoire. Or at least somewhere where you'll understand.
"Alright," said Luna, taking Victoire's hand.
"Vickie..." said Neville warily as Luna came to her feet, her hand clutched in Victoire's.
"If we're not out in... five minutes?"
"Ten," said Neville reluctantly. "I have a feeling this is going to be delicate work. The last thing I want you to do is rush through it." And he handed Victoire the bottle of Calming Draught. "Might help," he said with a shrug.
"Thanks," said Victoire, taking the potion and allowing Luna to take her up the stairs to the second floor, where her breath was taken away. She barely noticed the same damage in Luna's room as everywhere else in the house. Instead...
"Do you know them?" asked Luna as Victoire spun in a slow circle, taking in the faces painted on the ceiling.
There was Uncle Harry and his lightning-bolt scar. Uncle Ron, his hair so much more there than it was today. Aunt Jean, the only Hermione Granger in the world this painting was imagined. Aunt Ginny, her red hair without a touch of gray, and Professor Longbottom, rounder and happier and than the one sitting downstairs, worried sick for the woman who had painted him in the first place.
They were young. They were... well, not innocent or carefree, considering the shadow cast over them by Voldemort. But they were...
"Beautiful," Victoire breathed.
"Thank you," said Luna, barely noticing the five children circling her bed. "I must have painted them in my sleep. I often do things when I am asleep that I do not know until I am awake again. Do you know them?"
"Do you?"
"I do not," said Luna, sitting on her bed. "But I will, I am sure. I often see things happen before they do. And they are my friends."
"How do you... oh," said Victoire, leaning forward to look at the gold chain running between the five. As she saw the word emblazoned over and over, she felt a lump grow in her throat. It struck her again just how unfair this entire situation was. Luna didn't deserve what happened to her, and neither did her friends, Victoire's family, floating overhead. Aunt Ginny didn't deserve what happened to her, either. Nor did Uncle Percy, Aunt Penelope, Gid and Fab and Uncle Charlie and--
To have so many links of that chain damaged, she thought, feeling her tears welling beneath the surface. Of course I have to do whatever I can to fix it again.
"I'm wearing glasses," said Luna simply, touching the sides of her face. "I just noticed. And my hair is shorter."
"Yeah," said Victoire, her voice touched. "Yeah, you... It's Polyjuice. You were playing a game, remember? And..."
"I wasn't," said Luna. "But thank you for lying to make me feel better."
"You... You know?"
"I know there is something wrong with me," said Luna. "I'm taller and my hair is shorter, and I have glasses and breasts, and there are people in my house who I don't know, and my parents are not here, even though you all say they will be back."
"There's... Well, we're trying to make you better," said Victoire carefully.
"I know," said Luna, her serene smile returning. "I thank you for that. What would you like me to do?"
"I need you to... well, um," Victoire stammered, put off-balance by Luna's sudden attitude shift. "I mean, if you're not uncomfortable with this, um..."
"What would you like me to do?" Luna repeated. "I like you, Vickie. You're very nice, and I trust you. You're not old like they are."
Victoire bit back the comment about someone twice her age saying that, then nodded. In Luna's mind, after all, Victoire was ten years her elder. "I need you to, um, take a nap? Is that something you can do?"
"I can try," said Luna. "Although I am not very tired. It has been a very trying day."
Did she really talk like this when she was nine? Victoire thought with some amazement, or is another part of her starting to come through?
"Do you want some of this Calming Draught?"
"No thank you," said Luna, lying down on her bed. "They make me burp. I do not think that would be conducive to sleep."
"I suppose it wouldn't," said Victoire, wondering if she should down a bit of it herself. Now that she was actually planning what she was planning, her nerves were pounding in her stomach. In the end, though, she allowed Luna to make herself comfortable on the bed. As she waited, Victoire looked around the rest of the room, noting the framed photographs scattered haphazardly across her desk. One photograph, its glass front cracked, was of a very young Luna with who Victoire assumed was her mother, Europa. Another was of her and her father in front of a tent in some unnamed jungle, one of many they had visited in the last two decades.
A third photograph, which drew Victoire's attention more than the others, was taken in front of a well-lit city shoreline, apparently from the deck of a boat. It was Luna, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Jean, and Neville, along with the current heads of the Auror and Muggle Liaison Departments. All appeared to be Victoire's age in the picture, and all were bundled up against the cold, snow falling from the upper edge of the frame. All of them were smiling broadly and waving to the camera, Jean and Ginny looking particularly giddy.
Is that the night? Victoire thought. She'd often heard the story of their surprise double engagement of Harry and Ginny and of Ron and Jean, leading to the double wedding, and remembered that they were in New York when it happened. It's so beautiful, she thought, feeling another stab in her chest. That's what she needed. What they had. She needed to get away. Far away. See new worlds, explore new cultures. Find herself like they found themselves. Get away from the stress of war and family and...
Don't think about him, she said, snapping herself back to reality. Focus on this. Your connection to Ted's so strong that you might take the wrong path if you're not careful.
"I'm not able to fall asleep right now," said Luna as Victoire put down the photograph of the last generation.
"That's... that's okay," said Victoire, sighing. It was a last-ditch effort, really. The odds of it actually working were slim to none to begin with.
"Will you still be able to fix me?"
"We'll try," said Victoire, her mind beginning to race. What else was there? How else could they fix Luna without the Oligarchy? And without Luna, how could they find the Oligarchy in order to fix her?
Who says she needs to sleep?
Because that's how I always communicate with Ted, Victoire retorted. Because that's the only way that it's ever been.
No, it hasn't.
When? Victoire thought, her brow furrowing. When did it happen? There was an inkling in the back of her head, a remembrance...
Flames. Heat. Screaming horses.
Buckbeak.
The night of the attack. Her voice was gone. Yet she spoke to Buckbeak, calmed him down.
"She's not a hippogryff," Victoire countered to herself.
"I do not think I am one," said Luna. "Did I think I was one earlier?"
You spoke to the Darkness Man, too.
She did. She remembered it now. While it wasn't a joining of minds like she did with Ted, a two-way communication, she had been able to connect with another mind while conscious. It made her wonder just how many of her fantasies while awake were--
Forget the fantasies. You can connect with Luna. Now.
"Okay," said Victoire with a deep breath, sitting down on the bed beside Luna. "I need you to... I don't know... open your mind?"
"My mind is always open," said Luna.
"True," Victoire chuckled. "Alright... Well, this is the first time that I've done this, and if it turns out that Ted's the psychic, then I'm going to look like an idiot..."
"I trust you," said Luna, taking Victoire's hand and squeezing it.
"That makes one of us," Victoire said with a nervous smile. "Alright, I'll stop talking and just... um..."
Think about the night. Think about reaching out to Ted. How do you do it?
And it was easy. Surprisingly, amazingly easy. Victoire closed her eyes, opened her mind, and could feel... something reaching out from inside her, like a potion's vapors in a gentle breeze. She felt them envelop... Luna's mind, it had to be, there was a barrier that it, she was wrapping around.
Then she found a crack.
She was in.
---------
And Victoire suddenly realized that she had no idea what she was doing.
When she met Ted Lupin's mind, whether in his own head or out in some other reality where this kind of thing is possible, it was relatively straightforward. He was seeking her out, after all. His mind, his memories, his true self, was there to be found. Like the night of the attack, she often found her dream self traveling through a hall, a tunnel, or something else to get to him, but these paths were always straight, always clear-cut. Always obvious. Ted was always looking for her, after all, whether he knew it or not. He opened the path for her, and she took it.
Luna, however...
When Victoire was eight, Charlotte and Daniel Granger had taken Ted and HC to Wookey Hole. Victoire, after immeasurable amounts of begging and puppy dog eyes to both the Grangers and her own parents, was allowed to go along, her father in tow (Fleur Weasley wouldn't be caught dead in such a dank and dirty cave).
They went on a tour of the caverns, Bill trying hard not to laugh as the tour guide discussed the legend of the Wookey Witch, who had in fact carved the stalagmite into a rough copy of herself after Confunding the monk who had come to seek vengeance. She had gone on to live for decades in nearby Badger Hole, spoiling even more romances before she died in the mid-sixteenth century.
Even though they knew for a fact that the rock was just a rock, however, the three children were still frightened by the story, and were still on edge after they came out of the caverns to visit the attached amusement park.
Particularly the hall of mirrors.
Victoire talked her father into letting her go in with just Ted and HC. However, after losing she lost her bearings completely in the infinite reflections, Bill had to come in after his daughter, who had been reduced to a sobbing wreck on the floor.
She was starting to feel that way now.
How much of this is the Memory Charm? thought Victoire as she "looked" around the vast maelstrom of memories. How much of it is me jumping into a mind that wasn't ready for me? How much of it is simply Luna being Luna?
Despite her often confusing nature, Victoire knew enough about Luna to know that she should have one of the most organized minds she had ever known. But this wasn't that. Stimuli were everywhere she could "see". Images flashed by her, reflected her, reflected themselves, multiplied, warped, changed with each moment. Victoire felt herself stagger against the current of memory.
What's memory? What's memory, what's imagination, what's Luna's hypotheses of how things could be?
What the hell am I doing here?
There was Luna, seen from her own eyes, facing Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. There was Luna fighting bravely against a swarm of flesh-eating pineapples. There was Luna sailing down the Congo river with her father and her girlfriend, Milinka, in search of the Sankuru Serpent. Here was Luna eating half a grapefruit on March 31st, 1990. Here was Luna chained in the darkness of Malfoy Manor, unable to even see the ground she was seated on. Here was Luna watching her mother die, and seeing her first Thestral upon her arrival at Hogwarts.
How Victoire knew as much about what she was seeing, she didn't know, but could guess. She was in Luna's mind. She was a part of it now.
Here was Luna looking at Neville at the wedding of Harry and Ginny, of Ron and Hermione, and Victoire felt the rush of love that she knew didn't belong to her. Loving him the night James was born.
Can I get out again?
Luna gazing upon the Crumple-Horned Snorcack for the first time. The Sankuru Serpent. The Stymphalian Birds.
Is the Memory Charm contagious?
Luna remembering, or theorizing, or fantasizing about making love to Charlie and Neville and Harry and Ginny and Milinka and Viktor and Hermione and, in one brief flash, Victoire thought she saw her own naked body, her own blonde head between Luna's pale legs--
What the hell am I doing here?
Luna's friends dying. Luna's father dying. Luna defending herself against the Stymphalian. Luna watching Harry break up with Hermione at Dumbledore's wedding, watching he, Neville (with his lightning-bolt scar), and Ginny leave to hunt for the Horcruxes. Luna sitting in the Ravenclaw Common Room, hearing the mingled giggles as her classmates made quiet jokes about her, thinking she couldn't hear them.
wait
I have to leave, I have to get out I'll go mad or I'll get wiped like Luna
go back you saw it go back
I can't be here I have to leave this was a mistake
do what you need to do you saw it
no I
Victoire stopped, forcing her mind to stop its chattering as the world of Luna Lovegood's mind spun around her. She did see it. She saw Luna attack the Stymphalian Bird. Saw her kill it. Saw Xenophilius Lovegood die. She remembered.
Somewhere in this storm of memory, Luna remembered.
"Luna!"
She cried out, not knowing how much good it would do if she didn't have a voice. She didn't care.
"Luna! Are you here? It's Victoire! Can you hear me?"
""""""Victoire?""""""
The voice came from all around her. Fragmented. This Memory Charm works wonders, thought Victoire. Luna can't even find herself in this mess. She keeps reflecting around, no wonder she doesn't know who she is.
"Do you know who I am?"
"Of course I do who are you you've gotten so old!"
Oh great, Victoire sighed. This is going to be harder than I thought.
As if you thought this was going to be remotely easy.
"Aren't you seven twelve two eighteen Viktor? eleven five not born nine?"
"Damn it," Victoire muttered. "Luna, we don't have a lot of time, because I don't know how long it's going to be before the Memory Charm wipes you again, so just do exactly what I say. My name's Victoire Weasley. I'm the daughter of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour, oldest granddaughter of Arthur and Molly. If you don't know who I am, please be quiet."
""But--""
"Please!"
"""We know you."""
"Good," said Victoire. "I'm nineteen years old. If you don't know me at nineteen, please be quiet."
""We know you.""
"Do you remember the night Charles and I came to visit you?" Victoire asked, knowing she had to be very careful now. "The night that... the night you were in Poland?"
Silence was all that responded. Push a little further.
"Do you... Do you remember... a fire?"
"father? are you alive?"
The voice was so quiet, so scared, so un-Luna. This was the voice that Neville was terrified of: the voice that could break Luna completely. Victoire needed to avoid that voice for as long as she could.
You don't need to go that far, she decided. The research existed before that moment. You don't need to push Luna there. Just nudge her as close as you can get...
"Do you remember the first night we met you in the wild?" Victoire asked, feeling her mind starting to get fuzzy. "The night with the Gorynyches?"
"I..."
"father?"
"I remember."
"After that night," Victoire explained, "you created some research on the Stymphalian Birds. A book, or a portfolio, or... or... you never showed it to me, though... I don't think."
HURRY! The Memory Charm's starting to affect you!
"Do you remember anything like that?"
"I remember writing notes... Making maps... Collecting... something..."
"You made a copy."
"I did make a copy."
"A copy of... what?"
Shit... no no no, hurry hurry Victoire hurry!
"I copied all of the research... Protean Charms..."
"Where?"
"I... I don't..."
"Where? Where am I?"
Victoire, get out, NOW!
"Luna, grab on to me!" Victoire yelled, not sure if this was going to work or not. She could feel Luna's memory collapsing around her, the reflections and barriers closing upon her faster than she imagined. She reached out what she thought was her hand, grasping for something she didn't know existed.
"Luna! Grab on to me!"
She felt... something... grab... somewhere... She hoped she knew what she was doing.
Victoire pulled
---------
and opened her eyes. She was in Luna's room, just as demolished as it was minutes (seconds? hours?) before. The blond woman on the bed beside her opened her own eyes. Searched the room serenely. Looked at her.
"Hello, Victoire."
My name's Victoire?
Of COURSE it's Victoire! Shake it off.
Victoire did, as well as she could. She seemed completely herself. She knew where she was, knew who she was, knew the day and the woman in front of her and the people in the hallway. She breathed a sigh of relief. The Memory Charm didn't cross over.
"Luna?"
"I am glad you're calling me that," said Luna with a quiet smile. "You always call me Madam Lovegood, and I think that is far too formal for our friendship."
"You're back?"
"Why are we in my room? I recall that I was in bed with Charles after we had had sex..."
"You're back!" Victoire cried, diving at Luna and wrapping her arms around her. She could feel the tears of relief coming close. After all those months--
"I am not back," Luna said calmly. "It is winter, is it not?"
"It is," said Victorie into Luna's shoulder.
"It was fall when we last spoke," said Luna. "I was cursed with a Memory Charm, yes?"
"You were."
"I still have it," said Luna. "I can already feel it working its way back into my memories. We do not have much time."
"No," said Victoire, panicking. "No, you have to stay, you've been gone for so long, you and Uncle Charlie--"
"Charles was cursed, as well?"
"It's a long story..."
"I will hear it sometime," Luna nodded, pulling Victoire away from her. "One day when I can remember it. What is it you need of me, Victoire? You risked your safety and your memory to find me. I know this, you were in my mind. What is it you require? Speak quickly, for I do not have much time."
"Your research," Victoire said. "You have a copy of your research on the Stymphalian Birds. Where did you hide it?"
"I do not know."
"You..." Victoire groaned, her heart collapsing. All that work. All those hopes. And the Memory Charm was still doing its work.
"I do not know where it is," Luna said. "But mother does."
"Mother?" Victoire blinked. "Europa Lovegood?"
"Yes, she does," said Luna, pushing herself from the bed.
"Luna, um..." Victoire knew she needed to be as tactful as possible. She thought she was speaking to the most recent Luna she could find. If she thought her mother was still alive...
"I hid the research," Luna explained, taking Victoire's hand. "Then I hid my memory of its location."
"You... hid... the memory?" Victoire stumbled as Luna pulled her to the desk, where Victoire had been examining the photographs just minutes before.
"I cast a Memory Charm on myself," Luna said. "Only one person knows where it is. Soon it will be three. Hello, Mother," she said, picking up the photograph of her younger self with Europa Lovegood. Europa looked up, through the cracked glass, and waved to the older Luna. Victoire had seen this countless times in her life, whenever she looked at a magical photograph, but this amazed her nonetheless. Photographs moved, yes, and interacted with other objects and people within the boundaries of the paper. Very rarely, though, did they interact with people in the three-dimensional world. That particular trait was reserved for portraits, which held particularly powerful memories of the witch or wizard who had already left the world. Portraits were singular, it had been explained to her when she was younger. Only one could be made, with any future attempts merely becoming gateways for the original figure, like Phinneas Black's portrait at Grimmauld Place.
Photographs, on the other hand, could never hold the same strength and personality, since they were cheap, easy, and plentiful. To have Europa's photograph even silently interacting with Luna meant powerful magic was at work.
"Mother," said Luna, motioning Victoire closer, "this is Victoire. You can show her where I hid my research. You can trust her, because I trust her. Can you do that?"
Europa, her eyes just as protuberant and warm as her daughter's, nodded again, waving to Victoire this time.
"She will help you when I'm gone," said Luna to Victoire. "Thank you so much, Mother," she said back to the photograph. "I know the Oligarchy must not have been very nice to you and the others when they came to visit. Can you fix the frame for me?" she asked Victoire. "The rest of the house is fine as it is for now, but I would be very upset if I knew that Mother's photograph wasn't its best."
"Of course," said Victoire with a sad smile.
"I love you, Mother," she said, kissing the cracked frame. "I'll be back soon."
"Luna..." said Victoire, unable to find the words of gratitude that she felt she needed to say to Luna as she set the frame back down onto her desk. Instead, she wrapped her arms around the woman, hugging her tightly.
"You'll fix me," said Luna to Victoire as they hugged. "I know you will all try your best."
"We will," said Victoire.
"Tell Charles, even though he will not remember... Tell Charles that I am thinking of him."
"I will," Victoire said. "Thank you." Then, because she didn't know what else to do to thank her, she kissed Luna on the lips.
Oh, what the hell? Victoire thought. She's going to forget it anyway, but it'll make her happy for at least this second.
"Victoire? Is everything... Oh!"
Victoire pulled away from Luna to see Neville standing in the door, his jaw hanging open.
"Is... um..." he stammered, staring at the two women. "Is everything alright? Did... it... work?"
"This... uh... this wasn't it," said Victoire quickly.
"Hello," said Luna dreamily. "Thank you for the kiss. Who are you?"
"It didn't work," said Neville glumly.
"That wasn't it!" Victoire repeated firmly, picking up Europa's photograph. "And, yes, it worked. Hello, Mrs. Lovegood," she said. "I'm Victoire. Luna just introduced us. You remember me, right?"
"You're speaking to a photograph?" said Luna, staring over Victoire's shoulder as Europa nodded. "That's silly."
"Luna asked you to show me the research," said Victoire as Neville joined the two of them, standing behind Victoire's other shoulder. "Can you tell me where it is?"
Europa gave a reluctant shrug, then ran her finger along the crack in the glass.
"Oh!" said Victoire, nodding. "Yeah, I can take care of... yeah, hang on." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the frame. "Reparo!" and with a quiet tink the glass became whole again. "So, where is it?"
Europa looked over Victoire's right shoulder, and pointed at Neville.
"Professor... what?" said Victoire, looking over her shoulder.
"I don't know what she's talking about," Neville shrugged. "I don't have the research."
Europa rolled her eyes, then, pointing again at Neville, pointed at her own head.
"In... In Neville's head?" said Victoire, staring at Neville like he was a particularly difficult question on her N.E.W.T.s. "Oh, God, no. I don't... Please don't make me have to go into somebody else's mind."
"You went into her brain?" Neville said, his eyes wide. "You didn't, just, like, interpret her dreams or something?"
Europa repeated the motions over and over, eventually pointing to the ceiling.
"The... The... Neville's head!" Victoire cried, realizing that Europa was pointing to the five paintings watching over the bedroom. "Of course!" Victoire pulled the chair from Luna's desk, positioning it under Neville's portrait. "Watch me, Professor," she said, climbing up. "I should be tall enough, but make sure I don't fall."
"Of course," said Neville, putting his hands on Victoire's hips as she climbed onto the chair. "Careful."
"Almost..." said Victoire, standing on her toes and stretching out. "I think I can reach it."
"I'm taller," said Neville. "Do you need me to--?"
"No, I almost... have... it... Where was she pointing?"
"Between the eyes," said Neville.
"Those are pretty," said Luna, entranced as she looked on. "Who painted them?"
"Okay..." said Victoire, reaching with her index finger for the point of the painting where Neville's eyebrows met. "Right... GOT IT!"
There was a minute click, and Victoire felt something push in beneath the painting, like a button covered with cloth. She wondered briefly what charm Luna had used to blend the button into the old painting so well when Neville's entire face swung open like a door.
"It's a shelf!" said Neville as Victoire jumped up in her excitement, grasping for whatever was on the overhanging ledge where Neville's jaw used to be. She felt paper, and after three more leaps (Neville was holding her as tight as he could), paper began to fall to the floor: parchment, notebooks, newspapers, and...
"Maps!" said Victoire with joy, jumping down from the chair to gather up the research. "A map, with... Oh, God..."
She fell to her knees, spreading out the map of Europe on the carpet. There was a crooked red line running along it, starting in Greece (marked 11/18 in Luna's curving handwriting), crossing into Belarus (2/19), the Ukraine (6/19), Belarus (7/19), and Lithuania (8/19).
"Then into Kaliningrad," Victoire breathed. "That was where we were going to go the night the Stymphalians attacked, I guess. It's just north of where we were camped in Poland, look..."
"These newspapers match up with the dates," said Neville, sitting down on the floor beside Luna and flipping through them. "I think. My Lithuanian's rusty. The Ukraine in June... That's where you found those dragons, right? The three-headed ones?"
"She was tracking the Stymphalians through Muggle news reports," said Victoire with a nod. "Unexplained phenomena. That's how she found out about Kaliningrad. And there have to be more reports like that. If the Stymphalians are still on the move--"
"Which they'd have to be," said Neville. "And if there aren't any more reports, then that means they've been taken out of commission."
"We can find them," said Victoire, grabbing the hand-written parchment. "She has... theories of movement patterns, and behaviors. Breakdowns of what time of day they were found, if they were rural or... mountains... forests..."
"We did it?" said Neville. "We can track them?"
"It's going to take some work," said Victoire, her heart racing. "But, yes, I think we can. And I think know how to kill them."
"You do?"
"I do," said Victoire.
"Where does it say that?"
"It doesn't," said Victoire. "But I saw it."
"You could have told me that before now..."
"I just saw it in her mind. But we have to find them first. And... damn it."
"What?" Neville asked. "Something wrong? We can't find them?"
"No, we can," said Victoire. "But... um... I know who could help us. And... damn it."
"What's wrong?"
Victoire closed her eyes, her head suddenly pounding, her stomach churning. "We need to search Muggle newspapers," she said. "We need to search them fast. We'll need a computer."
"A what?"
"Muggle equipment," Victoire said nervously. "I barely know how to use one, and one person who knows computers better than anyone I know, someone who could help us find what we need as fast as we can...
"I'll need to talk to HC."
Regrets / Previous Chapters / Victims