Wake up, Luna. Wake up, sweetie. I opened my eyes and smiled at my mummy, who crossed the room and threw open the window. Sweet music floated in. Mummy said that when the birds are happy, they sing. I wanted to sing, too, to match my voice with theirs and mingle in their happiness. And I did, because there was nothing to stop me.
~*~
Luna and her mother used to have picnics everyday, because her mother thought Luna should always get fresh air and see the world. She would help pack peanut butter sandwiches and skip all the way to their picnic area, watching the trees. They looked like big sticks to Luna, tall and willowy. The trees swayed gently with healthy green leaves protruding from every branch. They seemed alive, and somehow Luna knew they each had a different story to tell her.. She only wished that she could hear them.
Luna’s mother pointed out things to her as they walked. “Look how the flowers open towards the light, Luna. They need it to survive, so they naturally grow so that they might get as much light as possible. All beings do that, because everybody has to change to live life to the fullest. I want you to live your life, Luna. Whatever you have to do to get there, do it.”
Luna nodded enthusiastically, extorting her face into what she supposed was a wise expression. Of course, not one word her mother had said connected with her, but Luna was anxious to appear knowledgeable. Mrs. Lovegood laughed at the energetic bobbing of her daughter’s head, and returned to showing Luna the different flowers.
She showed Luna how the green grew on the tree and the intricate patterns the spiders made for their webs. Luna skipped ahead, feeling the blue push her hair back, and she let it blow there, enjoying the breeze against her skin.
To Luna, the Blue was the emptiness that filled the space, the nothingness that surrounded her. Up high, it was blue, but here where she stood it was colorless. Maybe, if she stood at the top of the sky and looked down, it would be blue here, too.
They arrived at their picnic area then, lush and green grass spreading out. Her mother walked Luna to a bench. “Sweetie,” she said, “I’m going to gather some jostaberries for a snack. Wouldn’t that be a lovely addition to our picnic? Stay here until I return.” Luna watched her pull out her wand and descend into the brush at the bottom of the hill, repeating the summoning charm as she went. Swinging her legs, Luna watched the clouds. It was a good day; you could smell the happiness. It smelled like sunshine.
~*~
Luna was still sitting there on the bench, eating the last of the picnic food, when a sudden shift in the blue took place. A bird flew delicately down to nibble at some crumbs by her feet. She was careful not to move, afraid that it might be frightened away. The bird lifted its head slowly, and stared at her with a questioning expression. It spread its wings so that she could see every detailed feather. She noticed that one wing was bent awkwardly, but before she could worry, the bird took off, flying high into the blue so that it was quiet once more. Luna waved goodbye to it, and walked over to her mother. Mrs. Lovegood picked Luna up into a hug, and together they went home.
On the way, Luna told her mother about the bird she saw earlier, and her mother expressed concern for the poor thing’s hurt wing. “What do you give a sick bird?” she asked suddenly, laughing
“I don’t know,” Luna answered.
“Tweetment!”
They both stopped walking and giggled uncontrollably. Even though Luna didn’t think the joke was very funny, she laughed anyway. She liked to be with her mum, and even bad jokes could not ruin her disposition. However, she still couldn’t stop thinking about the poor bird at the picnic. What had it done to deserve that wound?
When Luna got home, her mother lay her down for a nap. She had trouble getting to sleep, so she thought about the bird she met. It seemed so free and happy. Luna wished that she could fly like that. She tried to imagine herself with wings, detailing every feather. After all, the feathers were the most important part of flying. Her feathers were blue, because they would blend into the blue that way.
Luna woke up when the sun was just setting. She heard her mother downstairs, banging pots and pans for dinner. They were staying up late that night and planned to set of wizzlesnapers, because every once in a while it’s nice to celebrate, even if there’s no occasion.. Luna meandered downstairs in her pajamas.
“Mummy, may I help make dinner?” she asked shyly, tugging at her mother’s flowing dress with its sunflower design. “Please, Mummy, I’ll be very careful, and I’ll do it just like you tell me to."
Her mother smiled and told Luna to wash the clover, a bunch of green leaves. Luna turned on the faucet, and let the cool water flow through her hands. Her mother told her that they were making something new today, to surprise Daddy.
The warm smell of something delicious filled the room. “What does the smell remind you of, Luna?” Luna’s mother asked.
She thought for a while, uncertain of her answer. It smelled like a lot of things to Luna, but one thing in particular stood out.
“It smells like the fwesh sweet honey stolen from a bumbuhbee.”
While her mother smilingly contemplated this, Luna handed her the clover, and she dropped it into the pot. Suddenly, an acidic smell touched her nose.
“Please get the recipe book from the study, Luna. I want to make sure everything is okay.” Her mother sounded worried, so Luna hurried to the study, holding her breath so she wouldn’t have to inhale the putrid fumes. Taking out the recipe book from the shelf, Luna stared at the runes on the front cover. She couldn’t read them, but she knew this was the right book because of the huge cake on the front. As Luna turned to bring the book to her mum, there was a loud bang from the kitchen.
She dropped the book and ran to her mother’s side. Her mother was standing next to the stove, covered in the stew. At first Luna was afraid, petrified that her mother was hurt. Then her mother laughed, her deep, real laugh, and Luna knew everything was fine. Suddenly it seemed hysterically funny to her too, and she joined in. They collapsed onto the stew-stained floor in a heap of laughter. It didn’t matter that there would be no special dinner for her tonight. It only mattered that she’d never laughed that much in her life.
Sometimes, when she closed her eyes at night and looked back on that day, Luna wished it had all happened then. She loved her mother; she loved every second that she had with her. But maybe if it had happened then, it would have been so much less painful, both for Luna and for her mother. After all, at least she would have died laughing.
~*~
Five years later, things hadn’t changed much. Luna’s mother and father were the same as always, and so was she, but for the exception that she grew two feet. Her mother also took her cooking farther and began to study Potion-making more deeply.
Her mother set up a small lab in the basement, where she kept cauldrons of bubbling potions and interesting ingredients. The basement had a lure to it, the kind that one felt when forbidden to do something. Of course, Luna was forbidden to enter her mother’s lab, her mother was constantly anxious that Luna might hurt herself if she knocked over a cauldron. At the time Luna found it insulting that her mother did not trust her around her potions, but eventually she grew to understand that this was something all mothers do.
It was another spring day, and Luna was outside in their garden picking colorful weeds for the kitchen vase. Daddy said that weeds were just as beautiful as flowers, you just had to learn to appreciate them. There were also daffodils and irises that flooded the garden with color, as well as a flowering cherry tree and a small fishpond. Luna crouched down beside the pond and twirled the cool water with her finger, enjoying the ripples her touch made. Underneath, the catfish hardly seemed to notice that something larger than normal life was going on. They simply swam in circles and bobbed their heads.
Going back into the house, she dropped the weeds into a vase and poured water for them to drink. The sight lit up the room, bringing out greens, purples, and yellows from the surrounding decorations. Her mother would be so pleased. Her mother always liked to have a beautiful home full of color. Luna called her from the top of the basement stairs.
“Mummy! The kitchen looks so pretty! I want to show you the weeds I picked! They’re very pretty I think!”
She waited for a response, but none echoed from below. It was unlike her mother to ignore Luna’s calls, and she reasoned that her mother must have gone out for a stroll in the hills. As she turned away, Luna heard distant clanging from the basement, and instantly she was afraid. Who was in the basement, if it wasn’t her mother? It occurred to her that perhaps her mother had not heard her call or had been unable to respond. She worried that her mother was in trouble, and, casting fears aside, she rushed down the stairs into the cellar.
She hadn’t been in the basement for three years, and it looked much different from how she remembered it. There were glasses and tubes lining the walls, and tables stretched in four rows across the space. On the tables, bubbling caldrons atop mobile fires contained potions of every color Luna could think of. It was beautiful, in an eerie way.
With a stab of relief, she saw her mother’s head bent over a cauldron at the last table. Her mother hadn’t noticed Luna enter the basement, and Luna turned around to leave. The weeds could wait until her mother was finished with her experiments. Just as Luna made this decision, a loud sound reverberated from her mother’s cauldron. Jets of light leapt from the potion and zoomed above their heads. Her mother, concentrated on taking notes, did not see Luna standing there in awe.
Eager for more fireworks, Luna leaned against a chalkboard that her mother had propped against a table. The board was covered in complicated formulas and spells, with diagrams drawn next to them. There were fireworks in one diagram, like the ones she had just seen. Next to them were a question mark and a picture of a small bottle containing a blue liquid. Luna wondered if the liquid would create an even more elaborate display.
As though reading her mind, Luna’s mother took a deep breath and uncorked a small vial by her cauldron that contained a milky blue liquid identical to the one displayed on the chalkboard. Luna saw her consult her clipboard, which was covered with complicated notes and such. And then her mother tilted her hand above the bubbling potion.
There are points in our life where we jump off cliffs, and take a chance. You can bounce up higher than before, or fall to an uncertain fate in the depths below. Luna would like to think that when her mother twitched her hand, that millimeter of a movement, that she was certain she was about to discover something important, and big. But Luna knows now, when she looks deep down in herself, that her mother knew exactly what the risk was, and she knew what the probable outcome was, too. Luna simply wonders if her mother knew just how far she was going to fall.
Instantly, loud screeching noises erupted from the cauldron. Luna’s mother turned around and saw her daughter, and an expression of panic on showed on her face. “Get away from there, Luna! Go upstairs now!” Her mother hurried over to the chalkboard and pushed Luna away. She obeyed, and ran to the stairs. To be honest, Luna was more than a bit afraid. Once she reached the stairs, Luna turned back to watch her mother. She had pulled out her wand and was murmuring a spell over the potion. Suddenly, the noises ceased, and a dreadful quiet fell on the basement.
Luna’s mother turned around, and looked into her daughter’s eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed and she opened her mouth to speak. But before she could utter even one word, the world exploded. Or the cauldron behind her did. The force sent her spinning into the air and she fell with a sickening crash to the floor.
Luna clambered over to where she lay covered in the potion, and did not move. Blotchy red spots formed around the areas where the acid had burned her skin. “Mummy! You have to get up! Mummy! Please wake up! You have to get this stuff off you!” Her mother just lay there. She screamed and she screamed. She screamed internally too; only nobody ever heard her.
~*~
Luna’s mother had no funeral. Luna’s father and she buried her in the backyard under the oak tree. Her father said that her mother would have preferred it that way. After Luna dumped her handful of dirt and flowers on her mother’s body, her father told her to go inside. She walked away mournfully, straining her will not to look back. However, when she reached the house Luna peeked out the widow, and watched her father wave his wand. He covered her mother quickly with his magic, and then placed his flowers on her grave. Luna left him to grieve in private, and curled up on the couch to sleep.
Luna’s father said that they’d be a lot closer, now that her mother was gone. “Luna, think of all the things we’ll do together now. We’ll go on picnics every morning, and go on vacations together. Haven’t you ever wanted to go to find a Crumple-Horned Snorkack?” Luna wasn’t sure what that was, and she doubted that Daddy would wake her up every morning and take her on picnics, but she decided to give him a try, though Luna knew that her father would never replace her mother.
It was hard for them to agree for a while, because they were sad in different ways. Luna’s father liked to play his clarinet, and put his soul into his music.
“Your mummy used to love the clarinet,” he told Luna. “She would listen to it every day when you were outside playing.” Luna had never heard her mother play it. She wished that her father would stop playing his music and play a game with her, but her father was very busy and Luna didn’t want her father to stop doing what he loved. Luna thought that maybe her father was so busy because he didn’t want to stop and think, but maybe she didn’t really know.
When Luna was sad, she got quiet. She refrained from speaking, instead choosing to show her thoughts through gestures or writing. There wasn’t anyone to talk to now anyways, so she didn’t really care. But Luna thought it bothered her father sometimes that she never talked. Maybe he thought that Luna never learned how to. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever talked to him before, because he was always at work. Her father definitely was worried about her though, because he sent Luna to talk to someone. She called her Annie.
“Annie is a very nice lady,” her father said. “She’s also very experienced in her work and is known to cure everything from nargle bites to memory loss.”
Luna didn’t know what nargles where, but she was beginning to learn about the strange creature her father spoke about. Indeed, it wasn’t until they learned to live with each other that she realized how intelligent he was.
Annie was a Healer. She said that she healed people’s minds, but Luna didn’t see how anyone could do that. Maybe Annie could, her mother used to tell Luna that magic could do anything. She doubted that, too, then; she doubted a lot of things that she used to believe in. Luna came into Annie’s room one day, and found her waiting patiently for her.
“Hello, Luna, how has your day been so far?” Annie asked her politely. Luna smiled and nodded. She didn’t think that Annie understood that she was saying I’ve had a good day, because Annie kept talking about it. “Have you had a good day?” Luna nodded again, but not smiling. The talk continued like this, meaningless words, until the very end.
“I’ve had an idea, Luna, and I’d like your opinion on it. I talked to your father about it, and he thinks it’s an excellent idea. Would you like to hear it?” She couldn’t resist being curious, so Luna nodded. “Well, I think that you should take up a hobby. I’d like you to try to find something to occupy your time during the day,” Annie explained. Luna cocked her head, a sign that she did not understand her.
Annie continued, “There are many things that kids can do for hobbies. You can read, or write, or even draw. Some kids like to take up instruments, which I’m sure would please your father. Maybe you could collect something. That would be a very interesting hobby, don’t you think? Hobbies help to calm people who are under emotional distress sometimes. Also, you may find it useful when you grow older.”
Luna thought it sounded rather dull, but she smiled politely. Finally, Annie dismissed her and her father brought her home.
At home, Luna tried to find a hobby like Annie had told her, but it seemed impossible. Nothing looked interesting, and whenever she tried to brainstorm, memories of her mother kept filling her head, or else fantasies and daydreams. She thought Annie must be insane, because hobbies seemed to make her even more frustrated and unhappy than before. Before she knew it, Luna was asleep from the long day.
Her talks with Annie continued, and each time, Annie asked Luna how her search for a hobby was going. Luna shook her head and frowned, which indicated that it was not going well at all. At least Annie seemed to understand that. Luna was still having trouble talking, so she finally gathered enough courage to write Annie a note. In her best handwriting she scribbled:
Annie,
You said that I should find a hobby. I’m not finding this task easy. Are there any other things I can do?
Your friend,
Luna
Annie talked to Luna about some new hobbies. She suggested sports such as Quidditch, so that she would be ready to join the Hogwarts team in two years. Other suggestions included gardening and meditation. Annie described meditation as an activity where someone finds solace in quiet. By clearing their mind, they can relax and enjoy their surroundings.
One morning, the sun was glowing in that lovely spring way. Luna strolled outside and played with the flowers near the river. She threw pebbles into the water and watched them race across the river. Each time she flirted closer to the water’s edge, jumping onto rocks and letting the breeze flip her hair in every direction. Her father had told her that the flat pebbles go the farthest, so she made an intense search of the bank. Luna stooped down and grazed her eyes over the pebbles. One in particular stood out.
The rock was a dark navy blue, and glistened in the sun. It reminded her of the blue all around her, surrounding us every day. Luna wondered if the rock could think, because if it could then she supposed it was meditating. If it was, the rock would be very happy because it would have no emotional distress. She wished the pebble would teach her how to meditate, because she found herself useless at it. Maybe if she tried to be the rock, Luna would learn how to meditate. After all, how would anyone learn to fly if they didn’t watch birds?
She crouched down and listened to the cool river water gush past her. Luna listened to the way the blue breathed in deep, slow breaths that one didn’t notice unless they took the time to be a rock. She felt herself slowly losing her thoughts, letting them drift away into the blue. Complete peace surrounded her, and if she had been thinking at all it would have been that maybe this wasn’t that hard after all.
Luna tried meditation in new places too. It became increasingly easy to lose herself to the world. It made her feel as though she really was part of the blue when this happened, she could almost feel herself blown away. Whenever a sniff of her mother’s perfume came near, or one of her mother’s bracelets caught Luna’s eye, she emptied her mind. She wasn’t blocking the memories, she was letting them go. At least for a little while.
Luna’s father took her aside one day to talk to her. They hadn’t been together as much as he’d promised, but her father said that he was going to quit his job. He said that he would start a magazine. Luna hoped that this was a good thing, that it would give her more time with him. Her father put on a serious face and pulled Luna into his arms. His face was wet, he must have been crying.
“I’m so glad I’ve still got you, Luna. Your mother may be gone, but I’ve still got you,” he whispered into her ear. This was the closest Luna had ever been to her father at the time. She smiled, because she knew he meant it with all his heart. Luna looked her father in the eye and shook her head.
“Daddy, Mummy isn’t gone. She’s here in the blue.”
~*~
It was early morning, and Luna had just woken up for a cup of brewed hot ginger root. Hopping downstairs, Luna remembered that she would be turning fifteen tomorrow, and she was going to Diagon Alley with her dad for a birthday ice cream and shopping. Her father sitting in the kitchen, reading the latest articles for The Quibbler. Luna kissed him quickly on the forehead and settled down next to him. The article was entitled ‘Goblins: Bankers or Bakers?’ Luna nodded thoughtfully as she read, correcting some passages her father had missed with the quill he had left out.
Mr. Lovegood stopped editing and looked at his daughter. “Honey, Mr. Wazer is coming in about an hour to discuss that Snorkack sighting, and he would no doubt be delighted if you would bake him a cake to take to his wife.” Luna jumped with happiness, and raced to the kitchen. Guests were always welcomed at the Lovegood home.
In no time, a cake sat on the windowsill, smothered in rich icing and with little stars bouncing off it. Luna, quite proud of her work, sat back and breathed in the fresh summer air. It smelled like sunshine, like a day that she would always remember. And suddenly, Luna had an inexplicable urge to sing.
Wake Up, Luna by YourWildestDreams
Chapter Notes: The characters, plot, and basically everything else is credited to JK Rowling, who obviously came up with the whole idea.
Thanks to my four betas:
Azhure, Potterphile12, LucillaJoanna, and Neville's Girl.
A special thanks to LucillaJoanna/Joanna for her devotion and to Neville's Girl/Luna for her impressive characterization help. You guys rock!
Chapter Endnotes: Luna’s mother died when she was nine, so the first half of the story takes place when Luna is four.