I clambered out from my quiet alcove underneath the grand staircase, heat blossoming in my cheeks despite the ceaseless chill blowing in from the open door of the draughty hall. I gently tucked the letter into an inside pocket of my robe and felt it warming against my chest.
"Lovegood, are you intentionally taking up half of the corridor?" a sharp voice demanded, interrupting the bombardment of Neville related thoughts flowing through my mind that had forced me to stop in the middle of the hall and look up to the ceiling in search of answers.
"Sorry?" I excused myself. Following the voice, I found a tall spindly man with sturdy robes draped over his shoulders, suggesting he was some kind of authority figure. His flimsy frame was swamped in the thick layers so much so that he reminded me of a Bowtruckle.
The problem was, although he appeared to be a professor, I had no idea who he was.
"Are you all right? Is there something on the ceiling?" He stood some distance away. Almost as if he was shy of his power.
That's when the Bowtruckle resemblance became so overwhelming that it struck me with recognition for the gangling man. Yes! He was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
"I'm perfect, thank you sir..." I had eventually succeeded in recognisimg him but his name evaded my lips.
"Now that I've got you, there's actually something I need to talk to you about. Come with me to my office."
He turned immediately and his robes swished around him. I glanced around at the the dwindling occupants of the hall, most of them were heading to dinner. But the professor was striding with vigour and I supposed I had to keep up.
"What do you want to talk to me about?" I asked as I caught up to him and tried my best to match his pace. For every step his lanky legs took, I needed two.
"I'll tell you in my office," he replied, keeping his eyes ahead. That was all he had to say until we rounded the DADA practical room and he lead me into his office.
I remembered the messy stacks of paper and the green, murky tanks that stood in this room back when Professor Lupin occupied the post. Then there was the kitten saucers and pink frilly curtains that adorned the walls when Umbridge was in charge.
Professor Bowtruckle had decorated the room sparsely. The only objects in the room other than the desk and the two chairs we were sitting in, were some certificates hanging from the wall and a framed picture of a group of friends in Hogwarts attire.
"Miss Lovegood, I can't help but notice you have a sort of a... a vacancy, when it comes to my class-"
Ah, there it was; an engraving in the front of his desk. Professor A. Pepper.
"Now, I don't accept students who think they can just take a back seat. Defence Against the Dark Arts is a hands-on subject and I expect a lot of engagement."
His long fingers were clasped between themselves on the table top and a sheen had appeared between his two eyebrows. The energy rattling around in the sparsely inhabited room was nervous.
"I understand that you played a leading role in a student organisation called Dumbledore's Army. I would've thought-"
That reminded me of Harry. We were in dire circumstances back when Umbridge became tyrant of the school but Harry, typical Harry, took the responsibility of teaching us the necessary defensive magic skills that she refused to acknowledge. Then, of course, Neville, Ginny and I revived the movement last year in retaliation against the Carrows' capture of the school. We organised like a proper army. We even had those secret coins. I think I still have that charmed galleon, maybe somewhere in my trunk... it would make a lovely necklace.
"Luna?" Professor Pepper inquired in relation to my preoccupied state.
"Sorry, sir, I'm listening," I assured him. My mind has a tendency to go off in tangents sometimes, that's all.
"All I ask is that you participate, and engage more in my class... before I have to dock house points... or bring this issue to your Head of House. Because I know you're well capable, Lovegood. You are."
"Yes, Professor. I will. I do enjoy Defence Against the Dark Arts." I gave him a smile, hoping he wouldn't feel the need to invite me here again.
He smiled gladly and rose from his chair. "Well, thank you for coming to talk to me today, Luna."
I stood up and was on my way to the door when the picture frame I had noticed earlier came almost eye level to me.
"Is this you?" I asked the professor, drinking in the details of the photo. There were about ten students in the picture, arms slung around each other, yellow stripes on their uniforms. They looked as if they'd just received some incredibly good news. My eyes were drawn immediately to a girl with stunningly blonde hair who was caught with her eyes closed in the middle of a fit of laughter. She clung to a boy who was blushing and had a striking resemblance to the new professor.
"That was me," Professor Pepper confirmed. "Back when I was in fourth year."
He appeared even more like a Bowtruckle as an adolescent but that's not what was most interesting in the picture. It was the girl; whose hair was a concoction of all different shades of yellow, with thick, messy strands blowing around her face and skin as pale as a porcelain doll's.
"And who's this girl?" My lips formed the words, my eyes glued to the picture and my mind entranced.
"Ah... an old friend." He sighed wistfully. "Her name was Pandora Lockwood. I haven't seen her since our final year."
"She's..." Radiant. Beautiful. Talented. Kind-Hearted. Spirited. Vibrant. Loving. Brilliant. "My mother."
***
"Yes, that's right. He said he's scared of me," I relayed softly to Casos, petting the back of his neck and stroking his chin. He used to be so attached to his mother Manima that he lumbered between her legs, tripping her up, but now he was brave enough to let me groom him and tell him stories about my day.
"But that's not even the strangest thing that happened today. One of the professors... turns out he was friends with my mother."
Casos looked at me soulfully, his never-ending black pits of eyes boring into mine.
"I know, it's not that important. There's just so much about her life that I never got to learn..." I sighed pensively. "But if it wasn't for her, I never would've got to meet you."
After the accident, Daddy was fragile and would break down at any miniscule mention of Mum. All of her belongings; her clothes, jewellery, spellbooks and notes and all her potion equipment were sent to my grandparents house. For all I know, they were either thrown out or left to collect dust in the attic. All that was left behind were the photos that were pinned up all around the house; on the stairs, in the sitting room, by the door. I gathered them up, pulling the pins from the wall, and stacked them into a box. Daddy kept the box under his bed ever since. I don't know whether he cherished them fondly, frequently shuffling through the mass of pictures, or whether it was too painful for him to even imagine sliding the lid off the box. Nevertheless, I never saw them again. I could only assume that they'd been reduced to ashes along with the rest of the house.
I watched Casos, trying to figure out what he was telling me with his penetrating eyes.
I heard a scuffle on the uneven ground behind me, a clumsy trod that could never be mistaken for one of the distinct, calculated steps taken by a thestral.
I turned around slowly so as not to startle the thestrals, and behind me stood Harry Potter, hands bashfully in his pockets.
"Harry, I didn't realise you were still here," I said, my voice as steady and calm as a tranquil lake in spring.
"Yeah..." he replied. Hesitantly, he revealed that he was attempting to persuade McGonagall to install Severus Snape's portrait among the previous Headmasters and mistresses. "It's an up-hill struggle, but I'm getting through to her," he disclosed. I watched his furrowed eyebrows and tensed shoulders start to fade away. I couldn't imagine why he was fighting for Snape but I chose to trust him - like I always did.
"Plus, I wanted to ride the Hogwarts Express one last time." His worried expression had been replaced with a fond one. Then there was a pause in which he realised I was watching him intently. "What are you doing out here?" he asked.
I took a few seconds to craft an answer, continuing to stroke Casos, his protruding bones puncturing his transparent skin. "The thestrals are much more companionable than my dorm mates," I told him.
Harry let a sigh wash over him, eyeing the herd of thestrals surrounding us. He took a small step forward and an indignant Casos edged away. I scratched behind his ears, telling him that Harry wasn't dangerous, that he was nice. I guided Harry's outstretched hand and let it rest on Casos' neck. Considering he wasn't fond of strangers, he was quite content with Harry petting him.
I saw the relief in Harry's face as he soothingly ran his palm over Casos' skin.
"Can I ask you a question?" I whispered.
"Go on," Harry replied.
"You knew what my father did, didn't you? Why didn't say anything about it?"
He faced me, reading my expression. "I didn't tell you because I didn't think it would be fair." He picked up my hand in his own. "He did what he did to protect you, Luna. Maybe he betrayed me but... I can't hold that against him."
"I'm going to reach out to him," I said, grimly meeting his eye.
"When's the last time you spoke to him?"
"The day he came to the Burrow."
"He's your father. You need each other, no matter what he did to me," Harry said.
I smiled as his arm moved around me and I buried myself into his chest. "I know. Thank you, Harry."