Fold out your hands, give me a sign
Hold down your lies
Lay down next to me
Don't listen when I scream
Bury your doubts and fall asleep
Find out I was just a bad dream
Goodbye - Apparat
•
Luna woke with a start not long after she had fallen asleep, the acute nighttime senses she had gained along with motherhood tingling. She had heard what sounded like a cry, and when her eyes popped open in the dimness of the room, she noted that the furniture in the room was shaking, including the small bed in which Violetta was laying. Mostly vibrations, but occasionally one of the pieces of furniture would give a larger jerk or shudder, like something was alive inside it and trying to get out. Luna was facing the window, and as she watched, a vicious crack appeared in one of the glass panes. The crack then began to spread like a spider web. She sat up to go comfort Violetta. The girl had occasionally caused such things in her sleep when she was having nightmares.
Just as she was lifting the blankets, Luna again heard a small, choked whimper, and she froze. Instead of coming from where Violetta slept in the dark, it had come from behind her. Turning her chin over her shoulder, she saw that Tom had rolled over and was facing away from her. He was still asleep, his eyes shut tight, but he had his hands clenched in fists, his face twisted in torment. He twitched as though making an attempt to get away from something, and the furniture in the room gave a more violent shudder all at once. Violetta seemed undisturbed thus far.
"Oh, Tom," Luna whispered in the dark. She brushed a couple of sweat-heavy black curls off his forehead. Laying back down, she pressed herself against his back and tried to wrap her arm over him.
Tom gave a small gasp, followed by an almost inhuman whine at her touch, and he tried to shrink away from her. At the same moment, the crack in the window pane spread outward even further. Luna reached for her wand and quickly repaired the glass so that it would not shatter, then lay down beside Tom again.
"Shhh," she murmured, draping her arm over him more slowly, so as to not startle him. "It's all right. I'm here." The same gentle reassurances she had given to Violetta before came ready to her tongue. She pressed her face behind his ear. "You don't have to face it alone."
Tom's restless movements paused, as did the furniture, as if he and everything around him were listening to her whispered promises in the dark. "I won't make you face it alone," she whispered again into the shell of his ear. Another moment of tension passed, then Tom began to relax against her. After a few minutes, during which Luna continued to hold him close and hum reassurances, all of his twitches and fearful sounds ceased, and his more steady breathing of deep sleep resumed.
Luna followed not long behind him.
•
The next time Luna woke, the grey morning sun of creeping winter was already shining in the window, and Tom was already gone from the bed, the spot where he had slept long since cold. She yawned and stretched, supposing her late night had lead to a late morning.
"Violetta, darling," she said as she sat up. "Good morning, it's time to rise and shine. I'm surprised you let me sleep so...," Luna's voice trailed off as her eyes fell onto the small cot where Violetta had been sleeping. The cot was empty.
The world narrowed to just that empty little bed. Luna's throat became tight. "Violetta?" she repeated, her voice sounding thin and strained. When no response came, she sprang from the bed and spun around, looking in all corners of the room, as though her daughter were hiding, as though she would stay so quiet. She rushed to the empty cot and ripped the blankets off completely, as though they were somehow concealing her child. Luna then dropped hard onto the wood floor, sending waves of pain into her knees, and ducked her head down to look under the bed. As though Violetta were playing a game and would be smiling out at her.
But there was no little girl under the bed holding back giggles.
Luna's heart was pounding in her ears, and she now scrambled back to her feet, bounding across the small room to wrench the door into the hall open. "Violetta?" she choked out, ignoring the cold draft that wrapped its way around her bare ankles and up her spine under her nightgown.
She clambered down the stairs two at a time, stumbling into the main room in which they had arrived the day before, a terror rising ever higher inside her. Then she froze.
There, at one of the old wooden tables in the main room, sat Violetta and Tom. Bowls and cups sat in front of them, as though they had been eating breakfast. Only two other tables were filled with other travelers around them, and the old witch who owned the inn was across the room tidying up with an ancient broom. Violetta was cheerfully babbling at Tom, who seemed to not know quite what to do with her and had a look somewhere between perplexion and irritability on his face. The same cold winter sun that had woken Luna upstairs was streaming through the windows and giving a bluish tint to both Tom's and Violetta's black hair. Luna noted with some detachment that Tom's hair was smoothed back down, as though he had never had a nightmare before in his life.
At that moment, Violetta spotted Luna across the room. "Mummy!" she cried, throwing her hands in the air.
Tom turned to look at her over his shoulder, then stood up the moment his eyes landed on her, his wooden chair scraping on the wood floor, his brow furrowing ever deeper. He had crossed the room on his long legs so fast that Luna almost didn't register the movement. He reached out a hand to grasp her upper arm. "What is it?" he asked.
Luna forced herself to move, to take a deep breath, to try to slow her galloping heart down. She could not take her eyes off of Violetta, whole and happy and safe. She opened her mouth to speak, but found no words coming to her for a long moment.
"Everything all right, miss?" asked the old witch who owned the inn from where she had been watching events unfold across the room. Luna became vaguely aware that everyone in the room was now staring at her.
"Why are you crying?" Tom asked. "Luna?"
Was she crying? She reached a hand up to her face and it came away wet. "I woke up, and Violetta was gone," Luna finally managed to get out.
"But she was just down here with me," Tom answered, not understanding the reason for her abject terror.
"But I didn't know that. I didn't know where she was. I didn't even think that she might be with you. I didn't think you would do something like that. I thought she was gone."
A shadow flickered over Tom's face, but it was gone so quickly that Luna wasn't even sure she had seen it. His hand stayed on her arm, which she took as a testament to just how wrecked she must look. He muttered, "She woke up this morning just after I did. I didn't want to wake you. I didn't know what to do with her. I didn't realize it would distress you so much. I never would have let anything happen to her while I was present."
Luna tore her eyes away from Violetta, accepting that her daughter was safe after all, and shifted to meet Tom's eyes. His gaze was probing and thoughtful under dark brows. She still did not know quite how to respond, and her gut now felt uneasy as her adrenaline wore off.
"I've never seen you like this," he said, just as Violetta managed to hop down from her seat and trotted over to them. "I swear to you that she was safe the whole time, although admittedly, taking care of children is not one of my greatest fortes."
"I just didn't know where she was," Luna repeated. Words failed her again as Violetta reached them and slipped her small hand into Tom's free hand that was hanging at his side. "Hi, Mummy, she said, grinning up at Luna.
Tom's head jerked around to stare down at Violetta, who seemed to feel that holding his hand was a perfectly appropriate thing to do. The same look of consternation that had been on his face when Luna first burst into the room reappeared, and this time, Luna felt just the same.
The other travelers began chatting and the innkeeper began sweeping again, apparently deciding that all was well with Luna, Tom, and Violetta.
•
Tom recovered some of his composure, although he kept the arm Violetta had taken quite stiff at his side. Looking back to Luna, he said, "I won't do it again."
Luna still had remnants of that terrifying wild-eyed look on her face when she dragged her eyes away from where Violetta's and Tom's hands met. "It isn't that," she said, her voice losing the panicked hints of harshness and easing back into her usual soft intonations. "It isn't because you had her. It's because she was gone."
This he largely believed her about. His heart rate had been thudding in his throat ever since he had first seen her come staggering in the room, so distraught. Initially he had thought something had happened to her upstairs somehow while he was down here, and he had been prepared to rip whoever had wronged her limb from limb, but as the moments passed, he began to understand just how deep her protectiveness and fear for her daughter ran.
He wondered what had happened to her since they had parted ways at Hogwarts several years ago that had made her so quick to be not just anxious, not just afraid, but in such absolute terror at even the faintest whiff of danger to Violetta.
"You know, you don't have to reassure me at the moment," he said. His pulse was still choking him, but at least it had temporarily silenced the usual mocking voice in his head. He felt a desperate, inexplicable need to take that terror away from Luna, to put it somewhere else. "I don't believe any insult I might take at not being immediately considered an appropriate caregiver trumps what you felt when you realized she wasn't there."
Luna blinked at him, as though he were coming into clear focus for the first time this morning.
Emboldened by the fact that his words were, perhaps, giving her comfort, he continued, speaking faster and faster. "If anyone should be receiving reassurance at the moment, it is you. If it would help, I will swear to you via a magical bond that I will never intentionally allow harm to come to Violetta when she is in my company. Like the promise I made to never harm you."
It was a good thing that the voice within him had become mute for the moment, because he knew it would otherwise be shrieking at him in disgust and self-loathing. But even that knowledge was drowned by the inexplicable urgency with which he wanted to never see Luna in such distress ever again.
A long moment passed, during which Violetta released his hand at long last to go scampering around the room. Tom flexed the fingers of the hand the child had been holding, unsure of what to make of her or the way Luna was continuing to look at him. As she stared, he reached out his hand to her so that they could shake and bind his vow.
At long last, Luna spoke. "I just need to know where she is. But if you wanted to do that again, to have breakfast again, I mean, that would be alright."
She reached out and shook his hand, her skin soft and her fingers small when wrapped up in his own. His eyes skimmed over her face as they shook, their palms warming between them with the magic exchanged. Her cheeks were still flushed from tearing down the stairs. Tom had to force himself to release his grip and let go.
A shot of irritation with himself sizzled through him the moment Luna turned away to call for her daughter. His lip curled with contempt for himself. When would he ever learn? Another magical bond to Luna Lovegood weighing him down like deadweight was the last thing he needed if he was ever going to ascend as high as he knew he could. His own desperation to soothe her infuriated him, his rage boiling hot and ready, and he turned on his heel and strode away up the stairs, the sound of Violetta's laughter behind him making his skin crawl.
•
Early that afternoon, they gathered their belongings and headed east. They used Floo powder to get as far as possible, arriving in the tiny cottage of a Muggle family who clearly were not expecting three people to hop out of their fireplace.
"I remembered this cottage from the last time I was in Albania," Tom explained as he dusted soot off his clothes, paying little mind to the half dozen panicked and confused Muggles. "Nearest home to where we are headed. Convenient spot before we head off deeper into the woods. We will walk the rest of the way. I would Apparate, but since. . . ." His voice trailed off as his eyes landed on Violetta, who was waving at the Muggle family with a chubby hand from Luna's arms.
Luna was trying to smile reassuringly at the Muggles, though it seemed to be doing little good. The wife had shoved her four children behind her, and the father was yelling at them in Albanian.
"We didn't intend to make your journey more difficult," she said over the shouting.
Tom shrugged, pulling out his wand. "Yes, well, I shouldn't have brought you, but Merlin knows you continually make an idiot out of me, for some cursed reason. I'm beginning to think you're either a master Legilimens, or you're using the Imperius Curse on me." He paused, thoughtful, with his wand pointed directly at the Muggles. "Speaking of, I really ought to practice Legilimency more seriously." He scowled at Luna. "And Occlumency, I suppose."
Luna wrinkled her nose. "I'm not cursing you, nor am I reading your thoughts."
"Fair. Despite being magically competent, I doubt you could muster the intent to place anyone under the Imperius Curse, but especially me. And I suspect you would want to spend substantially less time with me if you knew what I was thinking all the time."
"I don't need to read your mind."
The Muggle mother seemed to have sensed that the wand Tom was pointing at her family was a threat, and she took a step forward with her hands raised, as though she were going to try to disarm him. A smirk twisted the corner of Tom's mouth.
"Look, Lovegood, she's as fierce a mother as you are." Seems every mother but your own would do anything for their children, said the whisper in his head. Can you blame her, though?
"Don't mock her."
"If you say so. Obliviate!"
Once the Muggles' memories had all been modified, with Luna keeping an annoyingly close watch on him to make sure he did it properly and with care, Tom levitated their bags. While the Muggles still sat befuddled and recovering, Tom, Luna, and Violetta headed out the door and into the dim forest just beyond the cottage.
Luna followed him outside and set her squirming daughter on the wet, decaying leaves and thin mist that covered the ground.
All the evergreen trees stood proud, blacking out parts of the grey sky above, clinging to their needles despite the chill in the air, while the skeletal branches of deciduous trees stuck out here and there like ghosts.
Luna stood beside him for a moment, and they both watched Violetta trot ahead to crouch down and inspect a fallen log. The air smelled of rotting plant matter and encroaching winter, and their breath came out in frosty clouds in front of them.
Tom fought a flinch as Luna reached beside him and intertwined her fingers in his, the cold pads of her fingers pressing into the back of his hand.
"Why are we here, Tom?" she asked, her voice soft, her eyes still on the red-cloaked figure of Violetta.
A long silence passed between them. Tom watched Violetta start to dig in the dirt beside the log, squealing with delight as she uncovered several insects. He considered, for a brief, irrational, and terrifying moment, telling Luna everything - the Horcruxes, the murders, the gaping hole inside of him. Perhaps here, in this quiet place, he could tell it, and she would not withdraw her hand.
Idiot. You utterly foolish, dirty-blooded idiot. Get on with it.
Withdrawing his hand, giving his head a shake, and striding forward, he replied, "I've told you. To finish something I should have done a long time ago."
They walked for quite some time. At first, Violetta wanted to walk on her own. This slowed them down considerably, as not only were her steps wandering and small, but she also had a habit of running off their path to explore various things in the forest.
The first several times she did this, she called her mother over with glee to show her whatever it was she had discovered, while Tom waited for them, impatient and scowling. Luna always seemed just as interested in the dirt and twigs as her daughter did, though whether this was for the benefit of her daughter or genuine interest, Tom could not tell. Although he suspected it was the latter.
However, upon the fifth or sixth time of Violetta dashing off to inspect something, she did not call for her mother. Instead, her little voice called, "Tom!"
Tom froze and stared at the girl. The red hood of her cloak had fallen off her head, and her black hair was in two small pigtails. She had a smudge of mud on her right cheek, and she was squatting beside a pile of damp, fallen branches.
"Tom!" she called again, insistent.
"She wants to show you something," came Luna's voice beside him.
Blinking, he looked at her, then back at Violetta. "Right. Because I want to see what's in the muck. This is a waste of time." But he found himself walking towards the little girl even as he said it.
Violetta smiled up at him, reaching a hand up toward him as though to pull him down to her level. His long legs folded until he was crouched beside her, careful to avoid getting mud on his cloak.
"Look," she whispered, in a surprisingly conspiratorial tone of voice for a two year old. As if she had a secret she wanted to share with only him.
He looked under the pile of branches where she was pointing, and he was startled to see a row of small, bright, iridescent cocoons hanging from the underside of the largest branch, where they were sheltered from the elements. How she had spotted them, he had no idea. She was analyzing them now with a scrutiny that - with a jolt - reminded him of his own intensity in learning.
"Do you know what those are?" he said after a moment.
Violetta turned to him with the huge grey eyes she had inherited from her mother and waited for him to tell her. Her rapt attention to him made him somewhat uneasy, but he continued, his brows furrowed as he said, "They're fairies. They build those, then come out with wings."
"Fairies?" she repeated, tripping over the new word.
"Yes. That's their cocoon. They go in one way, and come out completely different." He had no idea why he was explaining this to her, or how much she even understood, but when she turned back to look at the cocoons again with new, even deeper wonder, he found himself wanting to tell her more.
After several long moments, Violetta straightened up again, and took off back towards Luna. "Mummy! Fairies!"
"Beautiful, my love," Luna responded, holding out her arms and scooping up her mud-covered child without a care.
Tom stood up, brushing invisible dirt off his robes, then strode back over to them. He met Luna's eye, then looked away, plastering a frown on his face and starting to walk again. He didn't like the way she was smiling at him.
"She's very curious, isn't she?" he muttered.
"Impossibly so," Luna replied, trailing after him with Violetta in her arms. "Gets it from both sides, undoubtedly."
They walked for some time in silence, listening to the soft sounds of their footfalls on fallen leaves. Just as the shadows in the trees were becoming long and the light even dimmer, Luna started to fall behind, Violetta, who had fallen asleep in her arms, weighing her down.
Without pausing to allow himself to think about it, Tom turned around. "Here. Give her to me. We need to move more quickly. We are close, but it's getting dark."
After a heartbeat of hesitation, Luna placed Violetta into Tom's arms. Avoiding her eyes, he spun on his heel and continued walking. The little girl half-woke during the transfer, readjusting herself in his arms, but a moment later, she rested her head on his shoulder and fell back to sleep.
It wasn't long after that that they entered into a small clearing. There was more light here, but because of the grey sky and the time of evening, it was an eerie light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
Tom stopped walking. He recognized this place. He took a deep breath. Yes - under the decaying leaves and freezing earth, there was the crackling smell of magic, still present from all the wards and curses he had placed here years prior. They had arrived. Across the clearing was a huge ash tree, its thick trunk bearing a large, black hollow in the center.
Upon entering the clearing, Violetta stirred in his arms, waking from her nap. At first, he thought she had just woken because he had stopped walking, but then she turned her head and stared straight at the ash tree, frowning.
Luna stood next to him and watched him. "Have we arrived then?"
"Yes," Tom replied, in turn watching Violetta, who continued to stare at the ash tree. "Let's set up camp for tonight."
He set Violetta on the ground, and she took several toddling steps towards the ash. As though she sensed it too, Luna called to her daughter, "Violetta, darling. Come here."
Several minutes later, Tom had pulled an ancient wizard's tent from his bag and set it up with a flick of his wand. The three of them crawled inside to find an old but comfortable tent which, as per usual, was quite a bit larger on the inside than the outside. There was a small kitchen, a small sitting room, and a platform with a bed on it. Tom hauled the rest of their luggage inside the tent, plopping the bags down beside the bed.
"Just one bed again," Luna mused in a benign way that irritated Tom.
"You may sleep on the couch."
"Very gentlemanly."
"I have absolutely no idea what would have ever given you the idea I was a gentleman to begin with," he said with a wicked smile.
"You certainly are able to put on a good show of it when you want something," Luna fired back, though he noticed a playful gleam in her eye.
Tom snorted. "I can be very adept at a great many things when I want something."
They settled into the tent for the evening. Luna changed Violetta's muddy clothes while Tom made a quick dinner followed by tea. Soon, Violetta had pulled several blankets into a pile on the floor and fallen asleep in her nest. Luna laughed and said if Violetta was comfortable there, she would let her sleep there. Not long after, Luna was yawning and crawling into bed herself.
Tom stayed awake for some time after that feeling unnerved, sipping tea on the couch. The diadem lay in the ash tree just beyond the thin walls of his tent, and at first he thought the strange feeling came from that, as he could feel the magic there prickling the back of his neck. Then with a jolt he realized his mind had been quiet all afternoon since they had left the Muggle cottage. No cruel whispers, no self-loathing, mocking jibes. Just quiet in the forest, quiet with Luna and Violetta.
He frowned at this, then stood up and crossed over to the bed where Luna lay sleeping, carrying his mug of tea with him. Her blonde hair was splayed out across the pillow like spun gold in the darkness, her face peaceful and calm.
An internal war started in Tom's mind while he sipped his tea and watched her sleep. He should just go sleep on the couch. Better yet, he should wake her and make her go sleep on the couch. It was his bloody tent, after all. But his feet did not move, and Luna continued to sleep soundly, undisturbed.
Finally, he drained the last of his tea and set the mug down on the bedside table a bit harder than necessary. "Bloody hell," he muttered, as he pulled back the covers and climbed into the bed beside Luna.
She woke at once, blinking at him with bleary, drowsy eyes. She smiled at him, and then he was struggling to maintain his own anger with himself. "Hullo, Tom," she murmured, looking entirely too pleased with herself, her voice deeper than usual from sleep.
"Oh, do shut up," he snapped. But he did not protest any further, even when she nuzzled her face into his shoulder and fell back to sleep.
•
The next day came and went, then the day after that, and the day after that. Tom knew he was avoiding the ash tree, despite its presence being overwhelming at times. He found his eyes were even skipping over it whenever he looked around the clearing.
He knew he should get the diadem and get it over with, get back to London and get back to work. Without a shadow of a doubt, he knew that even though his hateful internal monologue had been silenced here in this still, quiet forest, it would come back with a vengeance sooner or later, and the reality that he had wasted so much time here would seem an unforgivable mistake, one that reeked of his own pathetic weakness.
But it was also so easy to pretend here, in this strange forest where time seemed to stop and where they were completely and utterly alone together. So easy to lie to himself here, about who he was and what he had done and what he had every intention of continuing to do. So easy to pretend he was someone else, with no power, no ambition, and no anger.
Violetta wanted nothing more than to spend time with him, and it never seemed to occur to the child to treat him as strange or dangerous. She found him fascinating and didn't ask difficult questions. It was easy in a way adults, even Luna - especially Luna - were not. They spent the days exploring the woods, something that kept both he and Violetta away from the ash tree. Tom showed Violetta toadstools and flailtail snails and hoofprints that he told her were from a unicorn, but were most likely from a deer. He flipped over rotting logs so she could see all the things that crawled out from under them. He charmed a branch into a vibrant, blooming flower crown for her, and she wore it while strutting around like the queen of the forest. He made ice crystals form into sparkling sculptures of animals out of the mist at her feet. He made a whirlwind pick up the damp leaves and spin around her in a tiny tornado while she squealed with laughter. He felt a strange, fierce surge of pride when she tried her best to mimic him and managed to make a leaf flip over onto its other side.
At night, the three of them stargazed when the wintry clouds broke, finding the planets and the constellations under moonlight. They gripped hot mugs of tea to stay warm and laughed while trying to teach Violetta how to say the names of stars. Luna didn't mention that he had once mocked stargazing. She also didn't mention that he was not doing what he had come here to do.
After Violetta would go to sleep, Luna would fall into the bed, and then later, when his ego would allow it, Tom would follow. He would fall asleep very stiff, trying to touch her as little as possible, for multiple reasons, but they would wake up in the morning a tangle of limbs, her small frame pressed against his, her hair in his face.
The fourth morning, the shirt of her pajamas had ridden up in the night. Tom found himself staring at the pale skin that was exposed there. Her stomach was flat, but there were a few thin lines under her belly button of stretch marks that could have only come from her pregnancy. Before he realized what he was doing, he traced one with a long finger.
"They make magical creams and things to make them go away," Luna said, watching him. "But I wanted to keep them. To remind me of what I'm capable of."
He found that he agreed with her, that they were perhaps one of the loveliest things he had seen, but he didn't know how to say it or even if he wanted to share it. So he looked away and got out of bed instead.
That night, following another long day exploring in the woods, Tom and Luna sat in front of a fire they had built outside their tent, sipping tea. Violetta was playing at the edge of the clearing, just within the circle of firelight, Luna keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn't wander off and Tom making sure she didn't wander too close to the ash tree. Luna was humming to herself, and Tom sat in silence, deep in thought.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked, peering at him through the steam rising from her tea.
"Why don't you use Legilimency?"
"I told you I don't do that."
"You also said, as I recall, that you don't need to in order to know what I'm thinking."
"Tom."
"Luna."
"All right," she said, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. "You're very mysterious. Very difficult to read. Very brooding. Nothing would please me more than to know what is going on in that dark, impenetrable mind of yours."
"Sarcasm, hm? I didn't know you had it in you."
"Perhaps I'm just as dreadfully mysterious as you are."
"That was never up for debate," Tom replied with a frown.
The smile vanished from her face. "You just looked very lost in thought. It's my favorite time to know what you're thinking about, when it has distracted you so thoroughly."
"The devil," he said matter-of-factly. "Lucifer."
Luna blinked several times before responding. "Interesting line of thought."
A humorless smirk played at Tom's mouth. "Specifically, I was thinking about how my old matron at the orphanage may just have been right after all. Maybe I'm damned. Maybe I am the devil."
"Lucifer was beloved by God," Luna argued.
"Know your Christian mythology, do you?"
"My mother thought they were interesting stories."
"Matron thought so, too. Religious books were the only ones we were supposed to read, although we sometimes got our hands on other ones. Made us memorize them." He was looking down at his fingers. "Especially me."
"Lucifer was God's most beautiful angel, his most perfect creation."
"And yet, he fell. He betrayed God, and he was cast out. 'I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven,'" he quoted to her.
They fell silent again for a few minutes. Luna tilted her head back and looked up at the night sky before she spoke again. "Lucifer is also a name for Venus, the morning star. Shining one, the light-bearer. Bringer of the dawn."
"Yes," Tom nodded, glancing up at the bright planet above them. He then began to again recite words he had long ago memorized. "'How you have fallen from heaven, morning star, son of the dawn. You have been cast down to the earth, you who once laid low the nations. You said in your heart, I will ascend to the heavens; I will raise my throne above the stars of God; I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly, on the utmost heights of Mount Zaphon. I will ascend above the tops of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High. But you are brought down to the realm of the dead, to the depths of the pit.'"
"Do you think you are doomed to the depths of the pit?"
"I don't know. Do you believe in redemption?" The question came tumbling from his mouth before he could stop it, the real focal point of his thoughts.
Luna remained silent for a long time, her grey eyes never leaving his face, mulling over his question. He had the sense that she was seriously considering the implications of his question, which somehow made him feel less ridiculous for having asked. "Yes," she said finally. "I do."
"Even for someone like me?" He managed to keep his voice from wavering, his tone from changing, but he suspected she could sense the desperation in him under the surface.
Again, she was silent for a while before answering. Her eyes went out of focus in their familiar way. "'Your heart became proud on account of your beauty, and you corrupted your wisdom because of your splendor,'" she quoted to him.
Tom ignored the sinking feeling in his chest. What did it matter anyway? She did not know what all he had done, so her absolution was meaningless as it would be given in ignorance. And even if she said it, she had always believed in too many absurd things.
He said, "Ah, you can quote too, then. And simultaneously deftly avoid answering the question."
"I would suppose, Thomas, that if there is no redemption possible for you, then it is not much of a redemption at all."
Tom did not quite know how to respond to that, and couldn't decide how to feel about it, but he felt a wriggling sensation that might have been pleasure or relief. Silence again fell between them, broken only by the crackling of the fire and Luna sipping her tea. Tom stared into the flames of the fire, frowning in thought, but otherwise refusing to bear on his face anything he was feeling.
He sighed, then looked at Luna. For a moment, he found himself struck dumb by her, the firelight dancing across her cheeks while the moonlight danced in her hair. An uncomfortable emotion welled inside of him despite himself. He murmured, "'Abashed the Devil stood, and felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her own shape, how lovely: and pined his loss.'"
"Well, that's not the Bible, strictly speaking," Luna started to say, but at that moment, Violetta began calling and scampering towards them across the clearing.
"Mummy, look!" Violetta called, toddling into the brighter light. Her small arms were in the air, holding her prize aloft. "Look!" In her hands was a long, brownish-grey snake with a pattern of black diamonds down its length. Its head was slithering, coiling down Violetta's arm, and on its nose was a small horn.
Luna had gone very stiff beside him, but wasn't moving to do anything either. "Darling, put it down," Luna said.
Tom raised his eyebrows at her, surprised at her lack of concern. "That's a horned viper, it's venomous. She likely shouldn't play with it." He noticed that Luna's eyes were darting between him and the snake, as though she was more worried about his reaction to it than Violetta's safety. Even though healing the child were she to be bitten would be simple, this was distinctly out of Luna's character as a mother, from what he had seen thus far. He gave her a look that betrayed his bewilderment as he stood up, preparing to speak to the viper in Parseltongue to tell it to leave the girl alone.
But suddenly a hissing noise filled the night air that was not coming from Tom himself. His head jerked around so quickly that a pain shot through his neck. Mouth agape, eyes wide, he watched as Violetta giggled, the viper now slithering itself along the back of her neck as it went from one shoulder to the next.
The hissing sounds were spilling directly from Violetta's mouth, sounds that he knew both he and the viper could understand to mean, "Stop! Tickles!"
The child was a Parselmouth.
About a dozen emotions struck him at once: confusion, excitement, rage, a strange jolt of triumph. He had thought it foolishness to think of it, but now. . . . The cogs in his brain were turning at full speed, his heart thudding almost painfully as he stared at the little girl. The snake's horned nose was now coming through a curtain of the child's black hair onto her opposite shoulder, and still she laughed.
Feeling suddenly as though the air was a very thick medium and it took a great deal of effort to move through it, Tom shut his mouth, drew his eyebrows together, and slowly turned his head to shift his eyes to Luna, who was staring right back at him, face inscrutable.