Pick apart the pieces of your heart, and let me peer inside.
Let me in where only your thoughts have been.
Let me occupy your mind, as you do mine.
Your heart's a mess, you won't admit to it.
It makes no sense, but I'm desperate to connect,
and you, you can't live like this.
Heart's a Mess - Gotye
Are you deranged like me? Are you strange like me?
Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?
Pointing fingers because you'll never take the blame like me?
Gasoline - Halsey
•
Luna woke on Christmas morning to find a small pile of presents at the foot of her bed. She smiled and leapt out bed to open them. The first package she opened was from Lorraine, who had sent her a slightly smashed homemade chocolate cake. The second was from Lucinda, who had sent her a pair of earrings that Luna found rather boring, though she would wear them to be nice, as well as a book on Transfiguration methods of the twentieth century. Cat had sent her a book as well, called Unproven Magical Species by Ravidius Fibber. Luna gasped with joy at this and immediately began flipping through it, pausing for quite some time to read the entry on Dabberblimps.
Finally, Luna got dressed and left the dormitory to go have Christmas breakfast. The singular table from the night before was still present, and Tom's black hair shined under the cold, morning light beaming down from the enchanted ceiling where he already sat. He was wearing his crisp grey school uniform with his Slytherin tie even on Christmas, though he had gone without his black robes. Luna clucked her tongue at him, glancing down at her own outfit. She was wearing a blouse and below-the-knee length skirt that was appropriate for the decade in which she found herself, but her skirt was a vibrant pink and patterned with white unicorns.
She plopped down beside him immediately. "Happy Christmas, Thomas," she said, helping herself to some eggs and bacon.
Tom closed his eyes, exhaling heavily and steeling himself for conversation with her. When he opened them again, he said, "Don't call me that."
Luna appeared not to notice his retort and began to pour copious amounts of maple syrup onto her bacon.
"That's for the pancakes, you know," Tom said, watching her.
She peered closely at the syrup dispenser. After a moment, she announced, "It doesn't say anywhere on it that you have to use it on pancakes."
Tom rolled his eyes. "Of course not. I'm sure they assume most people have enough sense to know what it's for without putting a sign on it."
"Who's they?" Luna asked curiously as she took a bite of syrup-drenched bacon.
"Nevermind."
"I have a Christmas gift for you."
He looked down his nose at her, dialing his arrogance up as high as it would go. "A gift? From you?"
She nodded and pulled a rectangular box with a velvet emerald green bow around it out of her skirt pocket. "I got it for you in Hogsmeade."
Still seeping smugness, he nevertheless took the box. He turned it over in his long fingers and inspected in from all sides with a look of disdain that did not completely block out his curiosity. "In Hogsmeade? But that was weeks ago."
"Well, I was thinking of you," she said, inducing a momentary interval where Tom stopped turning the box over and stilled.
Luna made a point to busy herself with her bacon again, allowing him freedom to open it unwatched. As she appeared uninterested, Tom pulled on the velvet ribbon to untie to bow. He slipped off the lid of the box to reveal an elegant, luxury quill the same emerald as the velvet bow on the box. On the feather barbs, there was a painting in the finest silver lines in the shape of a serpent.
"You got this for me?" he asked after a moment, staring down at the quill.
"Hm?" Luna asked, glancing over. "Oh, yes. Do you like it? I got it for you at Scrivenshaft's, though I painted the snake on it myself. Look!" she pulled her wand from behind her ear and prodded the silver snake with it. The little serpent began to slither up and down the sides of the quill in the way she had Charmed it to earlier.
Tom watched the snake's progress without smiling. He then very delicately placed the quill back in the box, replaced the lid, and pocketed it. "You're quite gifted at Charms," he said stiffly.
She smiled and ignored the fact he hadn't thanked her. "Thank you. Did you get many good presents? I did."
"No."
"Didn't get many good ones, or didn't get many?"
"Both."
Luna set her bacon down. "Why haven't you gotten many presents?"
"I suppose Lestrange and Nott just didn't have much time to go Christmas shopping for me this year," Tom snapped.
She paused and bit her lower lip, then returned to her bacon. "I'm sure they would have poor taste in presents, anyway."
"Presumably. Apple juice?" he said, offering her the pitcher.
Unable to stop the grimace that crossed her face despite the unusual politeness he was displaying, she said, "No, thank you, I don't like apple juice." She then leaned over towards him to whisper in his ear conspiratorially, "I don't believe in apples."
•
Goosebumps broke out on back of Tom's neck stood up as she whispered ridiculousness in his ear about apples. Her warm breath brushed along his jawline, the smell of maple syrup on her lips mingling with the citrus in her hair in a not-unpleasant way. Pathetic, said his mind. You like the way she smells? You should be so much better than this. Tom shook his head, electing against asking her how one doesn't believe in apples.
"You owe me a walk in the snow," she said, leaning back out of his personal space.
He raised an eyebrow. "I don't owe you anything."
"Well, you did agree to it last night before you got very upset with me for trying to keep Nargles out of your hair - you're welcome, by the way - and also, while I'm not fond of the idea of required reciprocity in regards to gifts, I have just given you one, and I note you haven't gotten a Christmas gift for me."
"I'm going to the library right now, anyway," he said, voice flat to indicate it wasn't up for debate.
She raised her eyebrows back at him, giving her an even more permanently surprised look. "The library? That's very studious of you, on Christmas. You're a very hard worker. No wonder you have the highest marks in every class."
"I've a lot to do," he said as he stood up from the table, but some of the edge was lost from it. He had learned over the past couple of months that her compliments were in general quite genuine when given, which caught him somewhat off-guard. Slytherins smarming up to him, teachers adoring him, girls flirting with him? That he was used to. This girl? Not quite so much.
"All right, then, I'll see you at dinner, I suppose," Luna said, already her eyes beginning to daze away as she returned to her head.
Tom didn't respond and started towards the Great Hall. He hesitated in the entrance hall for a moment, feeling somewhat flustered and not sure why. Reaching into his pocket, he felt the box with the quill, assessing that it was really there.
Rather than heading up towards the library, he turned and stepped through the oak front doors for a breath of fresh air. He was chilled as soon as he opened the door due to his lack of cloak, but he stepped outside nonetheless and peered out on the several inches of snow which covered the grounds.
Something dark in the blanket of white snow caught his eye just a few meters away from the oak double doors. Tom took a few steps towards it. It looked small, grey, and furry. At first, he thought it was a kitten, but as he looked more closely at it, he noted a lion-like tail and enormous ears. He realized it was a baby Kneazle, which had now noticed him and was mewing and shivering pathetically while staring at him.
"Well, go on then," he snapped. "Find someplace warm."
He turned and began to walk back towards the front doors. Suddenly, he felt a searing pain in his right leg. He looked down and saw that the Kneazle had clamped its jaws down through his pant leg and into his skin. "Get off me!" he yelled, and he gave his leg a violent kick. This only succeeded in causing the Kneazle to dig its claws into him as well. In all this, he suddenly slipped, falling over and landing in the snow.
Tom now reached down to pry the tiny beast off of him, but it bit his fingers, drawing up pain and blood. "Curses," he growled. The Kneazle landed another bite on his hand. "Fine! I'll take you inside."
The Kneazle immediately stopped attacking his hands and started to purr. Tom scooped it up begrudgingly before standing up himself, soaked through from the snow. "Should have just jinxed you," Tom muttered, to which the Kneazle dug its claws gently into Tom's hand, as though warning him.
Tom entered the castle very cold and very wet. He had just shut the oak door behind him and stood shivering, clutching the Kneazle, and dripping on the stone floor when Luna's voice drifted toward him.
"Tom! What's happened to you?" she said as she emerged from the Great Hall.
The Kneazle was nuzzling his fingers, trying to get him to pet it. Tom scowled.
Luna glided over towards him. "What's that?" she asked, pointing at the ball of fur in his hands.
He made the decision in an instant, shoving the baby Kneazle into her hands and saying, "Your Christmas present."
Luna inspected the Kneazle, then gasped and smiled in delight. "Oh, Tom, you've got me a Kneazle! I love him! Thank you!" As though oblivious to the fact that Tom was dripping wet, freezing, and hostile, Luna held the Kneazle in one hand then placed the other on his shoulder. In a quick, fluid movement, she stood on her tiptoes and pulled down gently on his shoulder, bringing his cheek just low enough for her to plant a split-second long kiss on it before she scampered away upstairs to play with her new pet.
Tom stood stock still for a few heartbeats, of which he was acutely aware due to the fact his heart was thudding in his ears, as well as the throbbing pain in his fingers. He stared at the stairs up which she had disappeared and reached up his hand with Marvolo's ring on it to his face, his fingertips brushing the place her lips had touched his skin, and he felt oddly warm when just a few moments before he had been so cold.
It took his brain, usually so quick, so discerning, several seconds to catch up and to identify the name of what he was feeling. He could hardly believe it, and it was quickly becoming obscured with self-contempt, but he was happy. It was a simple feeling, uncomplicated and unassuming, something he hadn't felt for a very long time. He was happy he had made her happy. And for once, his mind was silent on the matter.
•
"Why'd you bring that with you?" Tom was frowning at the small Kneazle poking its head out of the pocket of Luna's skirt as she sat down next to him for the Christmas feast. She had tied her long blonde hair in a braid, threading jingle bells into it. Every time she moved her head, the bells tinkled and glittered in the light of the hundreds of candles and fairy lights that were hovering just overhead.
"He wanted to come, of course. I love him, Tom, thanks again. He's quite funny." She scratched under the Kneazle's chin with a fingernail.
Tom felt annoyingly pleased with himself because she enjoyed his present so much. He reminded himself it had not been a present at all, but an opportune moment to get rid of the hellish thing that had been biting him. He pushed these thoughts away. "Have you named it yet?"
"First off, he's a boy, not an it."
"Fine. Have you named him?"
"Yes."
Tom waited. Luna was piling mashed potatoes onto her golden plate and did not seem to be inclined to speak further. "Well, are you going to tell me his name?" he snapped.
"Oh, I thought you just wanted to know if I had named him or not," she said. "Well, I've decided to name him Othello."
"Othello?"
"Yes. It's a name from a play by Shakespeare. You've heard of Shakespeare, haven't you? Growing up in the Muggle orphanage."
Tom scowled, the familiar distaste forming in his mouth. "I've heard of him. Muggle playwright."
"Yes. Othello is the main character in one of his tragedies. You should read it," she said. "You might like it. It's very dramatic, very dark. Right up your alley."
"I've been forced to read enough Muggle nonsense in my life when I was at the orphanage. Why would I want to read anything else?" he sneered, words fill with venom.
"Because it has value. It's lovely and sad."
"I'm not going to debate with you about the difference between intrinsic and extrinsic value," he clipped. "But certainly anything written by some idiot Muggle hundreds of years ago would be lacking in intrinsic value."
"Muggles aren't bad, you know. They really aren't all that different from us, other than, you know, the not having magic part." She turned part way in her chair to face him better, her face as infuriatingly placid as ever.
"What would you know about it?" he hissed, also rotating partially in his seat to return her gaze as though it had been a challenge. He leaned closer to her, his voice low so as to not be overheard by the handful of other students seated at the table. "You grew up surrounded by wizards and witches, didn't you? You didn't grow up with them. I bet you've hardly even interacted with them, living in your nice little magic bubble your entire life. And yet, you sit here -", he said as his eyes swept up and down her person, "- arrogantly presuming to speak from a position of moral superiority to me on matters with which I am acutely better acquainted."
To his utmost irritation, Luna leaned closer into him rather than shying away, the bells in her hair jingling softly. "I don't mean to dismiss your experiences, and I would be very interested in hearing more about them if you would be willing to share them with me. However, I suspect that you feel you are the ultimate authority on a large variety of topics, which simply isn't true," she whispered back.
Tom's anger flared, but just at that moment, Professor Slughorn had arrived to the feast, seating himself at the table and called, "Happy Christmas, Tom! And to you, Luna! What are you two whispering about over there?" He chuckled, the laughter reaching his bright eyes.
Tom jerked his body away from Luna, sitting upright and turning towards Slughorn. "Happy Christmas to you, sir. We were just discussing if fire seeds or fluxweed would be more useful in a potion to cure Moonseed poisoning."
As Slughorn happily launched into an explanation to Tom, Professor Dumbledore also sat down at the table, just across from Luna. Dumbledore picked up a wizard cracker off pile on the table and offered one end to Luna. "Cracker, Miss Lovegood?" he asked with a smile.
Luna responded with a similarly benign smile and yanked on the proffered end of the cracker. A bang like a cannon echoed across the Great Hall, and a cloud of blue smoke engulfed their end of the table. Once the smoke cleared, Tom saw that the cracker had produced an enormous American cowboy hat and deck of Exploding Snap cards.
Tom watched as Luna and Dumbledore traded the hat back and forth, each trying it on to the polite applause of the other, their individual dottiness only reaching new heights when together. He frowned and shook his head in disbelief, thinking that perhaps they really were related after all.