Rating:
PG
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Lucius Malfoy Luna Lovegood Tom Riddle
Genres:
Drama General
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 07/30/2005
Updated: 07/30/2005
Words: 2,792
Chapters: 1
Hits: 933

Luna Lovegood and the First Horcrux

michelle_31a

Story Summary:
Luna Lovegood is getting ready for her first day of school; little does she know what lies ahead when she comes into possession of a mysterious diary...

Posted:
07/30/2005
Hits:
933


Luna serenely licked her kiwi-flavoured ice cream and crossed her feet under the table, observing the hustle and bustle of people going about their business up and down Diagon Alley in decidedly frenetic fashion.

She never understood the propencity for people to rush through everything; there was no need to hurry - time was such a fickle creature, after all. Where was the pleasure in running to and fro without so much as a moment to spare for taking in some of the myriad sights and sounds?

And smells, added Luna, raising her nose to the air and closing her eyes as a pleasant wiff of the bakery's creations drifted to her as the door opened and a lady left with a handful of baguettes, the inexplicably harried patrons within taking the wonderfully sweet scents seemingly for granted.

Yes, thought Luna as she returned to her ice cream, people are such strange folk.

Daigon Alley was bursting at its civic seams; it was first day of school, and everyone, it seemed, had waited until the last possible moment to procure their school supplies. In that sense, Mr. Lovegood had for once elected to conform to the masses. Not that Luna minded, of course; she liked watching people.

For Luna it would be her first prolonged time away from home since her mother had died two years previously. As the day had drawn closer she'd experienced a curious mix of anticipation and reluctance. While she was eager to experience the new world Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry represented, she was hesitant to leave her father for such an extended time. Of course, in the end, she knew she had to go - a day would come when she'd see her mother again, and having to explain her decision to forego formal schooling was not something she wished to consider.

And so, here she was, serenely licking her ice cream as she waited for her father to emerge from the terribly overcrowded shop across the street that was the Flourish & Botts bookstore.

She would've liked to go in, but there was some promotion going on within that had attracted considerably more people than the small store could comfortably handle, this over and above all the last minute shoppers, and so her father had asked her to wait outside while he procured her required school books.

She sighed softly. The last time she'd been in that store was with her mum, barely a week after her ninth birthday. She recalled it vividly; the smell of leather-covered books, the Hallowe'en decorations that had yet to be taken down, the cluttered tables and shelves, her mother asking the bookkeeper if the rare tome she'd ordered had arrived...Luna still remembered the curious glances her mother drew that day, just as she did whenever she frequented the various shops and stalls of Daigon Alley. But then, her mother had been a particular rarity for even the most learned witches and wizards of the Wizarding world.

Luna twitched her fingers unconsciously - she could still feel her mother's pale hand gently squeezing hers...

Mummy...

A soft smile formed in her mind...an acorn ring, a laughing dance around a tree -

If Luna was a girl prone to being startled she might've jumped by the sudden dumping of a black leather satchel on her small table, directly across from her. As it was, she simply looked up at the black-clad, blonde-haired man standing before her, and took another lick of her ice cream.

"Hello," she greeted the stranger.

The man raised an eyebrow but said nothing, proceeding instead to sift through his bag. Luna thought it a bit odd - there were plenty of free tables around for him to reorganize his things; if she didn't know any better, she might've thought he was being deliberately rude. Furthermore, he was blocking her view of the bookstore.

But, no matter. Luna turned her attention instead to the latest edition of The Quibbler; The runes puzzle this month was being particularly stubborn. Carefully setting her ice cream aside on a napkin, she turned the paper upside down and drew her finger down the clues to determine where she'd left off.

Where was I? Oh yes...

She heard more than saw the man grab his tote bag and walk off. She might've voiced a farewell, but he hadn't responded to her greeting in the first place, and she doubted he'd be any more amenable.

She concentrated instead on the next rune. It was a particularly clever one, with what looked like a well-integrated combination of late period Celtic and early Norse symbolism. Now if only she could figure out what it meant...

A few minutes passed; she felt a cool wetness slowly seeping around her elbow - her ice cream was melting.

She dropped the magazine to the table and began to lick the ice cream dribbling down the cone's wafer in an attempt to stem the flow, but there was still a sizeable puddle on the table; and her napkin was soaked, to boot.

The sun was winning out, even though she was partly shielded by the tall buildings on either side of the street; it was a warm September day, perfect for the Flying Nackledirk's summer mating dance, but quite aggressive towards unprotected ice cream. Luna bit off the top part of her cone in defiance, denying at least the exposed portion of her confection to Sol's rays. She shivered slightly as the ice cream slowly made its way down.

She spied a small black book on her table. It hadn't been there before; clearly the man had left it behind...

What an odd fellow, she thought, staring curiously at the book. It seemed perfectly sound, if a bit tattered around the edges.

She looked around. There were scores of people coming to and from the bookstore; a merchant was busily arranging his wares outside his shop next door; a little old lady was fumbling for something in her purse while trying to balance a large bag stuffed with rolled-up linens. Luna spied a brown-eyed girl leading her parents by the hand down the street, towards the bookstore: judging from the looks of stupefaction on the adult's faces, Luna judged them to be Muggles, possibly on one of their first visits to Diagon Alley. She smiled dreamily - it would be wonderful to be a Muggle for a day, she mused, just to experience the wonder that the magical world provide.

What had she been looking for? Oh yes, the stranger - of him, there was no sign.

Luna set the remnant of her cone aside and considered her options; the man had obviously abandoned the book, and if she left it where it was someone else would simply come by and scoop it up when she left. That, or it would simply be thrown out.

Besides, she was curious as to its contents - there was no title on the cover.

Luna made her decision. She carefully folded up the Quibbler and put it away in her bag under the table. Brushing some wayward locks behind one ear, she slid the book before her and opened the first page.

It was blank. She flipped ahead.

Nothing.

Not a word, not so much as a scribble. Yet the book was obviously old.

She picked it up and flipped all the way to the end. As she'd by now half suspected, the entire tome was devoid of any content.

Her eyes lit up - she could use it as a journal! It hadn't been on her list of required books for the school, and she wouldn't have obtained one otherwise. She knew her schoolbooks were expensive enough as it is, her father's claims to the contrary notwithstanding. If it could save her father even a galleon or two...

It was the perfect size, and though it was considerably worn in places, it was still perfectly serviceable.

Yes, it would do nicely, Luna decided. She pulled her bag back out from under the table. Retrieving the inkwell her father had purchased earlier, she opened it and set it on the table. She took her quill in one hand and flipped the journal back to the first page with the other.

She brushed the quill's feathered end against the tip of her nose and pondered her first entry. After a few moments of reflection, she dipped her quill in the inkwell and began to write:

Luna Lovegood

September 1, 1991

~ First day of school ~

She drew back slightly as she considered how to begin; the first thing she recalled that day was waking up to find a Crumple-Horned Snorkack plushie on the pillow next to her. It had been a bit crudely made, her father not having anywhere near the considerable talent with crafts as her mother had, but Luna had immediately squeezed it in a monumental hug.

Yes, that would be a good way to start her journal, Luna mused. She put quill to paper -

Her header was gone.

Luna blinked. She was certain she'd written on this, the first page, and yet there was nothing there. She flipped a few pages over just to make sure. Every sheet remained resolutely blank.

Was her imagination playing tricks on her? She knew she had a tendency to drift off sometimes, but she was convinced she hadn't dreamed up writing the first entry. No, there was something strange afoot - either her ink was somehow defective, or...

She re-wrote her header and waited. Sure enough, within seconds the words had faded until not a drop of ink was visible. Luna sighed. No wonder the stranger had abandoned this book...it swallowed one's thoughts! As a journal, it was completely impractical.

Just then she glimpsed the appearance of new words, written in a hand other than her own. Her eyes widened as she read the inscribed passage:

Hello, Luna Lovegood.

A talking book. Her mother had once warned her about those...

But curiosity was a quality not so easily dispelled in a Lovegood. Besides, it wasn't like she would reveal any sort of sensitive information if she answered, not that she had any to give. Other than her father's recent information of new Humdinger sightings in Wales, anyway, which he'd planned to publish in next month's Quibbler. No, she'd keep that secret.

The words had already faded from view. She leaned forward and began to write, every word carefully chosen.

Hello. I've never spoken with a talking book before. Who might you be?

The response came more quickly, almost eagerly, this time.

My name is Tom Riddle.

Luna hesitated. She'd heard that name before, a few years previously; something her parents had been discussing over dinner one winter evening, as she recalled, but Luna had been too preoccupied making faerie nests to pay much attention.

Her curiosity was now running into high gear. She proceeded to scribble, oblivious to the dark figure in the shadows nearby quietly observing her.

Pleasure. What place in history would you keep, Mr. Riddle?

There followed a long pause; Luna took advantage of the delay and got in a few licks of her ice cream.

The mysterious book finally revealed its answer.

I once was a student at Hogwarts, just as yourself.

Luna set her ice cream aside and leaned closer.

Actually, this is my first day, I haven't been to the castle yet. When did you attend?

The response was quicker in coming this time:

When I started my schooling, the dark wizard Grindelwald was still a force in the world...

Luna's eyes widened in recognition.

I remember him. He was a rather nasty fellow, according to what I've read. Albus Dumbledore defeated him, didn't he? He's the school Headmaster now.

Indeed.

I'm quite eager to see the castle, I'm told it's quite fascinating.

It is that...there are many secrets hidden away within the castle...

Luna's eyes lit up. Mysteries where things that begged investigation, her mother had always said.

Secrets?

Oh yes...secrets that have been kept hidden for many years...I could help you find them...

Luna suddenly felt a strangely compelling force, almost as though the book were trying to pull her within its pages. Luna dropped her quill and slapped her hands against the table's edge, her cornet toppling over from the abrupt movement.

You needn't be frightened...

The words hadn't appeared in the book...she'd heard them in her mind!

I'd...rather not, thought Luna, feeling the book's dark energies beginning to permeate her consciousness. Her thoughts were beginning to lose cohesion, images of dancing faeries becoming distorted by monstrous spiders, slithering serpents and a host of unpleasant visions that sent shudders down her back. She lurched forward involuntarily, her hands grasping the table's edge even more tightly.

Don't resist...you only need to let go to see what lies beneath...

The mind flooding out of the book was threatening to overwhelm hers; but Luna's will was prodigiously strong - her mother had given her that, and more. She closed her eyes tightly and fought the encroaching tendrils of darkness with every fibre of her being.

Stop it -

You have a powerful imagination...it shall come in useful...

Luna was swimming in murky shadows - floating about, aimlessly, her heart seized by a cold numbness. It is as though she was no longer living, at least as a separate entity; she was losing herself.

In the darkness, two eyes, inhuman; they drew nearer...

In her fast fading memories, a potion bottle she'd played with...a pale hand in hers...a last, halting breath...

...Luna...

A surge of emotion sweeps though her; horror and anguish, but more than that...

"NO!!!"

It was both a thought and a shriek. With an almost sickening lurch, the encroaching darkness suddenly pulled back. Luna's eyesight returned with such abruptness that she was momentarily disoriented. She was no longer floating - she was seated at the same small table as before.

She was trembling. It was only then she realized her breathing had almost stilled, and she had to force herself to take in a gulp of air. The book lay splayed open on the first page. Luna quickly reached out with a shaking hand and slammed it shut.

Beware of books with voices, her mother had warned. They can be any one of many nefarious things...

Luna sat as far back in her chair as she could, her hands clasped tightly in her lap to keep them from shaking. Her heart was racing, though not through exertion; it was a sensation she was not used to, having only experienced fear a bare handful of times in her life.

She slid off her chair and grabbed the book with her soaked napkin. She ran over to the side of the bakery and dumped the tome, napkin and all, in a litter bin, intensely relieved to be rid of it.

She had to tell her father.

She ran across the street to Flourish & Botts, coming to an abrupt halt upon realizing she'd left her bag under the table. She looked back but her eyes were drawn instead to the alley she'd just left. There, the strange man dressed in black she'd seen before was frantically rummaging through the bin, clearly intent on retrieving his book. Luna ran a couple of steps back before realizing she was embarking on a potentially dangerous course of action.

She dashed back to the bookstore and shoehorned her way through the crowd, her slender form allowing her some measure of facility in getting past the overly cramped entryway, protests notwithstanding.

Once inside she scanned the dimly-lit bookstore; there were several dozen patrons jammed in within its walls. There was an elegantly-attired man seated at the very back of the shop, smiling and signing books, but -

"Luna?"

She spun around. "Daddy!"

She flung herself into her father's arms, forcing him to drop his stack of schoolbooks.

"Snookums, what's wrong?" her father asked with concern, holding her protectively. "You're shaking!"

"There...there's a book - I mean a man - "

"There's what?"

Without warning, Luna slipped from her father's arms, grabbed hold of his hand and bolted for the door. Her father almost stumbled over the books as he staggered clumsily through the crowd, his words drowned out by the throngs of people talking excitedly. Luna pulled as hard as she could, finally managing to extricate her father out onto the comparative tranquillity of the cobblestoned street.

"Luna, what's - pfft - going on?" asked her father as he removed a lady's purple shawl he'd somehow snagged on his glasses.

Luna's narrow shoulders sagged slightly as her large misty eyes scanned the street.

The man, and undoubtedly the book, was gone.