I think the lady did protest too much, she wouldn't take the flower from my hand.
She only saw the shadow of my circumstance.
Perception can describe what makes a man.
I didn't mean to interrupt your stride, but a rose was all I had to give.
Sometimes beauty isn't recognised, when it contrasts with what you feel inside.
Luna padded lightly along the damp ground, barefoot, letting the moist earth ooze between her toes. It was a dull and cloudy day; the sort that would make most people miserable. But not Luna Lovegood. She looked up at the misty sky and closed her eyes, feeling the dew settle on her face. Her long, dirty blonde hair was getting damp. She shook her head to free it from drops.
The sky above her was beautiful. It was mysterious. Luna had always been fascinated with the sky. There was so much of it. And it was all just ... there. It was peaceful. It couldn't fight or defend itself, but there was no way to attack it. It was innocent. But in an odd way it wasn't. The sky saw everything, so it couldn't be innocent, if it knew everything. Could it? Luna shook her head and sighed to herself. This was one of those awkward questions that she couldn't answer by herself, and probably never would. Sweeping the loose strands of hair back from her face, she continued walking.
The mood around her was awful. The village she lived in wasn't too affected by the War, but her father was worried. He was still publishing the Quibbler, still being the relaxed, care-free man he'd always been. But Luna wasn't fooled. She'd found a copy of the Daily Prophet the other day, tucked nearly out of sight. Her father never bought the Prophet. Ever. That was a fact. But now he did. He was worried. Luna saw it whenever he looked at her, smiling his lop-sided smile, the same as always. But there was a sorrow and fear in his eyes that she'd never seen before. And that scared her.
But Luna herself wasn't worried.
She knew about the Death Eaters. She knew about death. She knew about pain. But she didn't fear it in the way she had done when she was small. Her fondest memory of her mother flitted into her mind.
Who's to say the darkened clouds must lead to rain?
Who's to say the problems should just go away?
Who's to point a finger at what's not understood?
Luna bounced happily down the stairs, her fingers sliding down the sky-blue wallpaper. She skipped eagerly down the hall, finally reaching the backdoor. Dutifully, she paused to slip her feet quickly into a pair of well-worn sandals, before racing out the backdoor into the garden. It was a large garden, very green and natural. They lived by a wood, so the very end was slightly over-hung by trees. That was Luna's favourite place. But today, she was outside for a different reason.
Walking slowly and softly, she made her way to the large, wooden hutch by the fence. It stood angled to catch the sun. There was a small pen around it, filled with plenty of thick grass. Ideal for her guinea-pig.
Lyra was stretched out at the end of the pen, her sandy-brown colour standing out clearly against the bright green in which she lay. Luna paused and plucked up a handful of dandelion leaves from a clump in front of her. She picked her way closer, kneeling down in front of the cage, right next to where Lyra lay.
It was now that she knew something was wrong. Lyra hadn't moved. She always came to the edge of the wire and looked up at Luna for treats, but today she lay still. Confused, Luna dropped the leaves and lifted the top off the pen. She stooped and picked up the little body. Lyra hung limp in her hands, her body slightly cold.
"Lyra?" Luna smoothed down the little patch of fur on Lyra's head that had always stood on end. A tear rolled down her cheek. With a sob, she ran down the garden with Lyra in her arms to her favourite place beneath the trees. There she sat, clutching Lyra to her chest as she cried.
"Luna?" Her mother was coming, wand tucked absently behind her ear. There was a smudge of what looked like tomato sauce on her cheek; she'd been cooking. Her warm smile fell as she saw Luna crying. "Oh, my little moonbeam! What happened?" She sat down next to her daughter, her light blue eyes filled with concern. Luna sniffed and swallowed.
"Lyra died," she sobbed. Luna's mother wrapped her arms around her daughter and pulled her into her chest. Luna had to sit slightly at an angle to avoid crushing Lyra. After a few minutes, her tears dried. Luna's mother conjured a snowy-white handkerchief and handed to her daughter, who wiped her eyes and blew her nose obligingly.
"I've had her since I was two ... That's three whole years!" Luna rubbed at her eyes again. Her mother sighed.
"Moonbeam ... Do you know what happens when you die?" she asked, her usually light voice edged with a more serious tone. Luna shook her head.
"I only know that you can't ever see a dead person again," she admitted. After a pause, she added, " Unless they become ghosts ..." Her mother shook her head, a slight smile on her face.
"Moonbeam, death isn't like that! Look around you, what do you see?" She gestured around the garden. Luna looked and thought carefully before she answered. Her mother liked asking Luna difficult questions. She was never angry if Luna couldn't answer, but Luna loved the way her face lit up when she got something right.
"I see ..." she said at last. "Life." Her mother smiled.
"That's right! But how does everything live? What does everything need?" she asked quietly. Luna thought hard. She knew the answer to this.
"They need food. Some things eat plants, and some eat other animals," she answered. Then she remembered something her mother had once told her. "But when animals do it, it isn't murder, not like it is with people, because animals eat their food ..." Her voice trailed off. Her mother nodded.
"Do you understand yet? Think very hard. What would happen if there was no death? Where would life be?" Her mother's voice had its serious note back. Luna answered much quicker this time.
"There couldn't be any life! Because some animals wouldn't be able to eat!" she cried, pleased with herself for working it out. Then, another thought entered her head. "But Lyra wasn't killed for food. Why did she have to die?" She sniffed again, still cradling her pet. Luna's mother smoothed her daughter's hair.
"But she is food. Food for the plants and the earthworms. They need to eat, too," she explained gently. She smiled softly. "And anyway, my little moonbeam, death isn't the end." Luna looked up at her mother in wonder.
"What do you mean?" Then she stopped and thought hard. She had a feeling that this was one of those questions that she was expected to answer on her own. Suddenly, it hit her. "Is it something to do with the bit that becomes ghosts? Because not all people become ghosts, do they, mummy? So that bit that becomes the ghost has to go somewhere, doesn't it?" Her mother's face split into the widest smile Luna had yet seen.
"That's right, moonbeam!" she praised her daughter. "Some people choose to leave that imprint here, on Earth. But most people send that bit somewhere else. And in that place-" She stopped herself, clapping her hand over her mouth. "Mummy's being naughty now!"
"Why, mummy? What happens in that place?" Luna begged. She placed Lyra carefully on the thick grass, then flung her arms around her mother's neck. "I promise I won't tell anyone else!" Luna's mother looked to the sky for a moment and closed her eyes. She turned back to her daughter with a serene expression.
"Luna, I couldn't possibly tell you that! I don't really know myself. But I do know that there's a place that you go to when you're dead. And that's where everyone ends up. Sooner or later. Nobody can fight it." She kissed her daughter on the head. "You see the dead again, moonbeam ..."
We're all mad in our own way, colours paint the grey away.
Different people all the same, each reveals a meaning.
We're all mad in our own way, fill the sky with different shades
With a story on each page, each reveals the meaning.
It was starting to rain now. Ice-cold water ran down Luna's face. But she didn't change her pace. She knew where she was heading. It was her favourite place, tucked away from the world. Just the way Luna liked it.
The wood around her were as busy as always. Luna could hear a woodpecker somewhere in the distance. A rabbit hopped off the path just ahead of her. She sped up a little, twigs and dead leaves crunching under-foot. Her hands were starting to get cold now. She flexed her fingers to warm them up.
At this point, she turned off the path and picked her way through the bushes and shrubs. There were lots of brambles, but Luna knew exactly how to avoid the worst of them, even though the route was a little longer. Her feet moved automatically. She didn't need to remember where to step.
Soon, she'd arrived at a place where the trees jostled for space, the undergrowth thicker than ever. She slid past, her back against one of the trees. She emerged in a clearing. Under the largest tree, there was a small hollow in the ground, a blanket spread over it. That was Luna's seat.
She settled herself down on the blanket, her legs curled beneath her, waiting ...
Sometimes I think I over-analyse, as if I can control the time and place.
Life isn't something you try on for size, you can't love without the give and take.
She didn't have to wait for long. A rustling could be heard in the bushes to her left. Still, Luna kept quiet, watching and waiting. A slender, brown leg stepped through the gap, followed by a delicate, long face. The doe emerged into the clearing, her face turned towards Luna, judging her. Luna kept perfectly still, waiting for them to recognise her. The doe relaxed and stepped further into the clearing, a fawn behind her. The rest of the group followed her. Four does and two fawns, one only a month old. Luna allowed a tiny smile to cross her lips as she watched the youngster skipping about on its spindly legs.
The deer were all used to her by know. They never got close enough for Luna to try and touch them, but even if they did, Luna wouldn't try to. She knew the difference between wild and tame and wouldn't cross that line. The fawns would sometimes try and get closer, but as they grew bigger, they would ignore her more. The older one came to her less and less frequently already. It was a sad fact of life.
The youngest fawn came over to her, nose outstretched, cloven hooves sinking slightly into the damp ground. Luna smiled at it. It snorted and withdrew slightly, eyeing her cautiously.
"Hey, how're you?" she cooed softly. Luna wasn't a girly-girl, not the type to lose it over something cute and fluffy, but the fawn was beautiful. Her voice seemed to soothe it. He (Luna was fairly sure it was a he) lowered his head and began to crop the grass, only a foot and a half from where Luna sat. She watched the dappled sunlight play across his spotted back. Her mind wandered out of the forest and back to the War.
She was trying to think about it as little as possible. Not because she was afraid. It was because she was helpless. That was a scary thought. It was that fact that scared her.
Who's to say the darkened clouds must lead to rain?
Who's to say the problems should just go away?
Who's to point a finger at what's not understood?
She knew that she had it relatively easy. Her father wasn't an Auror, so he wasn't off trying to attack Death Eaters every other day. Luna herself was still in school and she knew that, whatever anyone might say, even without Dumbledore, Hogwarts was as safe as possible at the moment. Their home was out of the way, so it was fairly unlikely that they'd be caught up in too much crossfire, though there was still a chance ...
The Weasley's would be having a tough time at the moment. Harry Potter had disappeared, taking Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger with him. No one knew where they were, or why they'd left. However, Luna wasn't even afraid for them. She knew Harry was more than capable. After all, he'd taught her more than any teacher. Ron was more powerful than people gave him credit for, bless him. She knew he'd manage when the time came. Hermione was easily one of the most brilliant witch's Luna had ever met and she had the temper of a she-bear. She'd be fine.
She'd been corresponding with Neville Longbottom for over a year now. She didn't fear for him either. He was in the same category as Ron - underestimated. True, he wasn't the most gifted or powerful of wizards, but he had the heart of a lion. All Luna could do was hope that was enough ...
One person she was slightly worried about was Ginny Weasley. Funnily enough, Ginny was a powerful little witch. Luna of all people knew that. They'd shared classes for years and fought together at the Department of Mysteries in their fourth year. There was no doubting her ability. It was her heart that bothered Luna. She knew that Ginny wouldn't take being abandoned well. Luna was worried that she'd run off and do something stupid. She could only hope that she would be allowed in on it.
Would she be allowed in on it if Ginny did decide to do anything? She'd never said that they were friends, but maybe it wasn't something that needed to be said? Harry had said it, but maybe Ginny wouldn't? But Ginny might decide she didn't need help, so even if Luna did find out she'd left, it might be too late ...
This was what got to Luna. Feeling helpless. She accepted it as part of life, but hated it with a passion. She liked to be doing something to help. As a little girl, she'd loved helping her mother with her experiments. Helping her with the cooking and gardening, too, was always fun. But then her mother had died and there'd been no one left to help. Her father hadn't needed it. He just went off and did his thing. He didn't need Luna.
But now she had friends. Friends who needed her. And not being able to help them when they needed it was painful. It didn't help that she saw herself as the weakest. Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived. Ginny was strong and independent - looked up to. Hermione had her brilliance. She had seen Ron playing chess and knew what sort of strategist he was. Neville was kind and sweet, the best friend she could hope for. But what was left for Luna?
We're all mad in our own way, colours paint the grey away.
Different people all the same, each reveals a meaning.
We're all mad in our own way, fill the sky with different shades
With a story on each page, each reveals the meaning
Suddenly, the deer raised their heads, looking to the right. They scattered back into the undergrowth. Luna could hear rustling again. She stood up, not wanting to be caught in her special place. But before she could move off, a red-headed person fell out of the shrubs into the clearing. She looked up at Luna, cuts all over her face.
"Hello, Luna," panted Ginny, pulling herself to her feet. She brushed off her torn robes and looked back at the brambles she'd picked through. "Nasty things ... What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I was just ... here." Luna gestured hopelessly. "Where you looking for something?"
"No, I needed to get out of the house." Ginny sat down on the blanket, rubbing her eyes. Luna settled herself back down next to her. "Mum's been driving me mad! It's like she can't relax at the moment. Well, I suppose most people can't right now ... Seriously though, she hasn't gone to bed for the last week!" Luna nodded sympathetically.
"She'll settle down," she reassured Ginny, patting her arm gently. Ginny smiled weakly, rubbing her eyes again.
"What are you doing out here anyway?" Ginny asked.
"It's the anniversary of my mother's death today. I came out here to think," replied Luna. There was no point in beating about the bush. She gazed up at the tree branches, while Ginny sat in silence.
"Oh," she finally spoke. "I'm sorry. Why didn't you say anything before? I'd have come to keep you company." Ginny wrapped her arms around Luna, hugging her. Luna froze, then relaxed. She'd never been hugged by anyone outside her family before. It was a lovely feeling. They drew back. Ginny smiled at her encouragingly, blinking back tears. Luna realised she had a tear in her own eye and blinked.
"It's not all bad," she said lightly. "I'll see her again one day. If there's one thing that she taught me, it's that death isn't the end. So there's no point in feeling bad about it. Besides, I know she's watching me." Ginny shook her head at her, a grin on her face.
"You know, Luna, you're one of the most amazing people I know." she said. "It's like nothing can get you down. You're always ... you! No one changes that and nothing makes you unhappy. Not even-" She stopped, biting her lip.
"Not even Harry disappearing and Voldemort being back," Luna finished for her. "You're right in a way. I'm not worried for Harry. Because I know that he'll be fine. He'll be back, don't worry."
"And if not," Ginny whispered. "He'll always be watching over me. Won't he?" Luna nodded. Ginny smiled, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I don't mean to cry. Can we talk about something else? What was your mother like?" Her last few sentences were very rushed. It was then that Luna realised something her mother had never been able to teach her. That friendship was a very funny thing indeed ...
"My mother was a wonderful woman," she reminisced, a smile on her face. "She taught me a lot about life. It's a shame she didn't have time to teach me more." Ginny nodded sadly.
"What was her name?" she asked gently. Luna laughed softly. Not her usual loud cry of mirth, but a soft laugh. A gentle one. Her mother's name was her favourite thing about her. It had become Luna's middle name, too, and she was very fond of it.
"Faith Lovegood."
Luna suddenly realised something; her place in he world. She did have something that was her own. Her ability to laugh, even when the situation was dire. Her resilience. Her personality. The way she could think about things that most people would never understand. But above all, there was something else. Something that made her different.
"I always have faith in my heart. It's all I need to get me through ..."
We're all mad in our own way, colours paint the grey away.
Different people all the same, each reveals a meaning.
We're all mad in our own way, fill the sky with different shades.
Different people on each page, each reveals the meaning
We're All Mad by Ithinkrabis2people
Chapter Notes: DISCLAIMER; I DO NOT OWN THIS SONG! I DIDN'T WRITE IT. I DON'T OWN IT. I TAKE NONE OF THE CREDIT.