Luna Lovegood and the Half-Blood Prince

July 24, 1992

Luna Lovegood sat humming softly to herself as she read the Daily Prophet at the table in her kitchen. She had begun to think of it as "her" kitchen; she was doing more and more of the cooking for her small family since her mother had passed away two years before. She quickly scanned the headlines, a habit she'd picked up from her father. The obituary of Nicholas Flamel, an article on the Twelve-Toed Bombadoo, and below that, an article about the Half Blood Prince, caught her eye.

"Shouldn't it be Half-Blood Prince, with a hyphen?" Luna wondered. While she pondered that, her eyes wandered to an advertisement that Prudy's Potions Provisions was having a sale on pheasant hearts and ox eyeballs. Then she turned her attention to the obituaries.

"Nicholas Flamel, noted alchemist and opera-lover, died quietly in his sleep yesterday at the age of 666. He was survived by his wife, who, however, passed away later the same day during her daily afternoon nap, and eight hundred and forty great-great-great-great-great-great grandchildren."

"Anything interesting in there?" Luna's Uncle Lowell entered the kitchen looking hungry, as usual. He grabbed an apple from a bowl of fruit on the small, cluttered table and plopped down in the chair by the large kitchen fireplace.

"This article about the Twelve-Toed Bombadoo looks like it might be interesting," Luna said with a smile. "Do you want me to read it to you?" Luna had fond memories of times when her mother had read aloud to her from books, textbooks, spellbooks, newspapers and magazines. Selina Lovegood hadn't believed that children should only be exposed to children's literature. Uncle Lowell, who was her mother's much younger brother, had often shared the enjoyment of listening to Selina read out loud. Now that Selina was gone, Luna and Lowell kept up the tradition, though more and more often Luna was now the one doing the reading.

"Can we do it later?" asked Lowell, finishing his apple. Luna could not get used to how Uncle Lowell seemed to actually inhale food. "I've got to finish drawing my cartoon for the next issue of The Quibbler, or I might lose my job!"

Luna smiled. Lowell drew editorial cartoons and illustrations for her father's magazine, though she knew that he would never be fired if he missed a deadline. "Okay, I'll set it aside and we can read it after dinner. Maybe Daddy can join us," said Luna, turning to the page containing the article on the hyphenless Half Blood Prince.

"Luna, I need the Daily Prophet and I need it now!" Luna's father rarely yelled down to her from his attic office, unless he was under particular pressure for some reason. Luna recognized the note of panic in her father's voice and ran up the stairs to take her father the newspaper.

Sam Lovegood's office occupied the entire attic of the Lovegood house. It was even more cluttered than the kitchen. The walls, which only reached halfway up because of the low, sloping ceilings, were covered with bookshelves. Much of the floor was covered with stacks of books that overflowed from the bookshelves. A large map of the world hung crookedly on one of the slanted parts of the ceiling. Mr. Lovegood's large roll-top desk stood in the corner, practically buried in papers and more books, many of which lay open on top of each other. Opposite the desk was a small fireplace with a large pot of Floo Powder on the cluttered mantle. As Luna got to the top of the stairs, an owl flew through the window and dropped a half-dozen letters into her father's already overcrowded in-box.

"Thanks, Luna," Mr. Lovegood said wearily, taking the newspaper from her and immediately flipping through it. "My loyal readers have been sending me owls all morning concerning the Daily Prophet's very inaccurate and incomplete article on the Twelve-Toed Bombadoo. They're demanding that I write a letter to the editor, as well as a much more complete and accurate article on these fascinating creatures, in my next issue. And I haven't even read what the Daily Prophet has said about the blasted things!"

"Well, don't spoil it for me," said Luna with a laugh, turning to go back downstairs with a dreamy smile. "Uncle Lowell and I are going to read it after dinner."

Luna went back downstairs and started preparations for dinner. She listened to the Wizarding Wireless while she worked, and was just setting a roasting pan containing chicken and potatoes into the wood-burning stove when an bedraggled-looking owl arrived and dropped a letter onto the kitchen table.

Luna was curious when she saw her name on the envelope -- she hardly ever received mail. But before she could open it, the owl that had delivered it collapsed on one of the kitchen chairs. Luna hurried to get him something to eat and a drink of water. The wretched-looking owl gulped it all down gratefully, then slowly got to its feet and flew out the window as Luna opened the letter.

Dear Luna,

I got my Hogwarts Letter today. I'm sure you got yours, too. I'm so excited to finally be going to school. Don't you feel the same way?

I know we've never been particularly close, but maybe we'll get to know each other better at school. I wonder if we'll both be in the same house? My brothers have all been in Gryffindor.

I saw your Uncle Lowell out gathering berries on a hilltop, when I was trying out my brother's new racing broom the other day. Mum got both Fred and George used Cleansweep 5's with the money she made selling her knitted sweaters in town this summer. I can't wait to see them play Quidditch when I finally get to Hogwarts.

Write back and let me know if you got your letter.

Sincerely,

Ginny Weasley

Luna quickly replied to Ginny, telling her that her own school letter had also arrived, and asking Ginny if she had read the article in the Daily Prophet about the Twelve-Toed Bombadoo. She went upstairs to her father's office to ask if she could use one of his owls to send her note to Ginny. As she neared the top of the stairs, she heard her father cry out, followed by some loud thumping noises and more exclamations from her father. Entering the attic, she smelled the acrid scent of burnt paper. Her father was just using his wand to put out a small fire on his desk.

"Mrs. Wigglehorn sent me another howler," said her father as he continued to swat at the sparks on the papers covering his desktop. "Apparently she tried the recipe for bat's heart soup that was in my last issue, and it didn't go over well at her dinner party." Mr. Lovegood picked up a tattered Daily Prophet. It had a smoking hole in the center of it.

Luna took it and turned to the page containing the articles she had wanted to read. She was pleased to see that the article about the Twelve-Toed Bombadoo was not burned. However, the article about the Half Blood Prince, lack of hyphen and all, had been totally obliterated by the fire.