Dear Mum

With a shrill whistle, the Hogwarts Express began chugging its way towards King's Cross station, and Luna Lovegood settled back into her seat to watch the scenery go by. Her compartment was empty aside from herself and her bags, but that didn't bother her in the slightest. In fact, it was the way she preferred to travel home at the end of the school term every year.

She rested her chin in her hand, her large pale eyes busily flicking back and forth across the landscape outside her window. Her body began to rock back and forth with the movement of the train. As soon as she fell into a comforting rhythm, she allowed her eyes to close. Behind her eyelids, she watched the countryside hurry past; every tree, every bush committed to memory ever since her first trip on the Hogwarts Express.

Luna loved nothing more than succumbing completely to the sounds of the train and the sight of the world outside. Today, however, other thoughts kept rising unbidden and interrupting her usual concentration.

What were Ron, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Neville doing in their compartment right at that moment? Were they enjoying themselves? The questions arrived so quickly that Luna's eyes popped open even wider than usual and she suddenly found herself sitting very straight in her seat. The gently swaying she had found moments before was lost to her now, and her brow furrowed in irritation.

Why should she wonder about the activities going on in other people's compartments? They were certainly none of her concern. They never had been before, and they certainly weren't now.

But, she admitted after a moment, that wasn't entirely true. This year was different than the previous three times she had found herself heading home on the Hogwarts Express. When she'd boarded the train, she had headed purposefully to an empty compartment near the back, as was her custom. As she had made her way, dragging her bags behind her, she'd squeezed past Harry and Neville in the entryway of a compartment closer to the front.

"Oh, hey Luna, there you are," Harry had said, "We wondered where you got to. Come on, we saved you a spot." He'd motioned her into the compartment.

Luna, however, had found herself unable to go through the doorway. This was not how things worked. She always rode alone at the back of the train on the way home. Always. It was very important. Even as she opened her mouth to say so, she knew that they would not understand.

And she was right. Though they'd allowed her to move on, she had felt Harry's eyes on her all the way down to the end of the train. She hadn't looked back to see if he was watching while she pushed her things into the last compartment, because she didn't need to. She knew he hadn't moved.

Luna shook her head, dispelling those thoughts. There were more important things at hand.

Absently, she pushed her long hair away from her face. She leaned over the satchel on the seat beside her, brilliant with its dozens of multicoloured patches, and rummaged through it.

After a moment, she triumphantly withdrew her hand clutching her quill and an inkpot in which the ink constantly shifted colour. She set these on the floor and then pulled out a piece of crumpled parchment. A contented smile tugging at the corners of her lips, she slid down off the edge of the seat and onto the floor of the compartment, tucking her legs under her body. She smoothed the parchment, uncapped the inkpot, dipped her quill, and began dubiously scratching away, her words brilliantly coloured with every shade of the rainbow.

Dear Mum,

I must say, this year has certainly been different. I met some people, I mean properly met them, right at the beginning of the year on the train. I'm sure you recall the Weasleys, don't you? The best tree for sitting is just down the way from their yard, so I always see them flying about on their brooms over the holidays. Rowdy bunch sometimes...bashing tables together and screaming about who fouled who in their backyard Quidditch matches. I can't help but overhear them sometimes, barely. They're just little specks from my tree, really, but their voices do carry quite well.

Anyway, the point is, two of them sat in my compartment on the way to school this year. The youngest ones, Ginevra and Ronald. Not only them, of course, there were others too. Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter. You remember I told you he was at Hogwarts now? A year ahead of me. All of them are except for Ginny (Ginevra, you know). The whole lot of them are in Gryffindor, too.

They really are fascinating! I imagine everywhere else must have been full, they certainly never said anything to me about it, but that's the way it goes isn't it? Ronald really is quite a card, I must say. The things he says! So entertaining, you wouldn't believe. You would love him.

She scratched her nose absently as the point of her quill flashed across the parchment, splattering rainbow across its already rumpled surface in her haste, but Luna paid it no heed. She had never cared much for neat letters. They displayed a lack of interest on the part of the writer.

It all spilled from her quill as though the words had been stored there all along, merely awaiting her touch to leap onto the parchment. The attempts of the Ministry to discredit Harry and his warnings about You-Know-Who. That positively ridiculous Umbridge woman, who was intent on spoiling everything at Hogwarts, not to mention that she clearly had no idea how to run a proper class. Ron's being made Keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. In no time at all, she had managed to fill nearly a foot of parchment with rainbow scribbles.

The formation of the DA and all of the useful bits of magic she had learned there. "Weasley is Our King," her lion hat--which was really quite clever, if she did say so herself--and the way Ron had finally succeeded in winning Gryffindor the House Cup. The ride on the thestrals, the Department of Mysteries, the room with the veil.

Here, Luna paused, her quill hovering a hair's breadth above the surface of the parchment. Several drops of ink oozed from the tip, each a different colour, and blended together to form a small brown puddle. Barely even noticing the muddy blemish, she moved her quill slightly farther along and began to write once more.

I heard you, you know.

Her handwriting had altered noticeably. Where it had previously been hurried and free--"illegible," some might have called it--with those five words it grew gentler, the letters smooth.

You were singing your lullaby. No words, just a tune, and only for a moment. Then the other voices went over the top of it and I couldn't hear it any more. It must be very crowded, considering how many voices kept coming in and out. But I suppose that makes sense, doesn't it? After all, an awful lot of people must end up there. Really, I'm lucky I got to hear you at all through that ruckus, even if it was only for a second. Besides, it was a beautiful second. I wanted to let you know I could hear, in case you weren't sure. I heard.

Did you know that Sirius Black is Harry's godfather? And, not only that, but he isn't Stubby Boardman at all! Can you imagine?

She hesitated for a moment; a thought had just occurred to her. She quickly scratched in two additional sentences.

Oh, never mind, I suppose you must know that already. After all, he's most likely told you all that himself by now, hasn't he? I hope that he's settling in well. I can only imagine what it must be--

The sound of the compartment door sliding open startled her out of her thoughts. She quickly looked up, several limp locks of hair falling down over her eyes. Her wand would have fallen from behind her ear, too, if she hadn't reached up to steady it.

Harry stood in the doorway, a rather bemused expression on his face as he looked down at her. Well, at least he wasn't moping about. He'd been doing too much of that lately, and too much moping could bring on rather severe hiccoughs. He glanced at her nose, and a grin slowly spread across his face.

"Yes, Harry? Is there something you need?" she asked smoothly. She thought about standing up, but right at that moment realized that her left leg had fallen asleep and decided against it. She settled for shifting her position on the floor so that her legs were now stretched out in front of her with the parchment between her feet.

"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" he asked, taking in the otherwise empty compartment, "We're just down the way, and we'd saved you a seat and all." Luna shook her head.

"Oh no, that's really all right," she said, her voice almost melodic, "I'm quite comfortable here where I can stretch out. It's good for thinking, you know." She smiled serenely, bobbing back and forth slightly with the movement of the train.

"Well, okay. If you're really sure," he said, his eyes flickering to her nose again, "But we all wish you'd come. It's odd without you." Unbidden, a high-pitched gale of laughter ripped from Luna's throat, and she clutched her sides with glee. The very idea! That a place would be odd without her? Harry realized the joke too, and he laughed a little. His amusement at this revelation seemed reserved, though, and she couldn't imagine why that would be so.

"I have something quite important to do here," Luna said, still chuckling, "Otherwise I would. I really do appreciate your asking, though, Harry." Her pale eyes sparkled sincerely as she peered up at him through the loose locks of hair across her face.

Why on earth did he keep peering at her nose like that? Usually she barely even noticed the funny ways people looked at her, but for some reason this made her stomach twinge. Before she even realized what she was doing, she did something she had never done before.

She self-consciously brushed her hand across her nose.

Even as she did it, her cheeks grew warm. Why would she do that? Who cared if he was looking at her nose? He could look at whatever he wanted to, after all. Let him look.

She glanced down at her fingers, and saw that they were now smeared with the wet rainbow that, a moment before, had decorated the end of her nose. Calmly, she lifted her gaze to meet Harry's again as she wiped the ink off on her robes. To her surprise, he was smiling; not a belittling smile, but one born of simple amusement. Of course, why would she have expected belittlement from Harry? She knew better than that, surely. Even so, she could not quite forget the way her stomach had clenched a mere moment ago.

"Thanks for stopping by, Harry," she said.

"Sure," he said, nodding, "Well, I guess I'll let you get back to...er...whatever the important thing is that you're doing. See you."

He hovered in the doorway for a moment. Then, awkwardly, he turned and headed back to his compartment. The door slid shut behind him.

For a while Luna stared at the closed door, her round eyes misty and thoughtful. Absently, she chewed on the tip of the feather of her quill as she turned back to her letter. She didn't bother finishing the sentence Harry had interrupted. Instead, she dipped her quill in the ink and began a new paragraph.

Harry misses his godfather an awful lot, as I'm sure you can imagine. If it's not too much trouble (I'm not sure how often you see one another), could you possibly tell him that? It might be nice for him to know, if he doesn't already. I think that Harry would appreciate it, too, if you could manage it.

I wish you were here. Especially during the school year. I really think that Dad gets very lonely while I'm at Hogwarts. I wish that he could have visited the Department of Mysteries, too. He would have liked to hear your lullaby.

I hope that everything is going well with you. Dad and I are always thinking of you, and wishing you were with us. I miss you.

Love,
Luna

Luna held the letter up at arm's length and quickly scanned it to make sure she hadn't forgotten any important details. After a moment, she scribbled one more thing beneath her signature.

P. S. This summer Dad and I will be in Sweden to finally get some definitive photos of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. I'll be sure to send you copies after we get them developed.

Satisfied, she folded the parchment until it was small enough to fit into the envelope that she'd prepared, and sealed it safely inside. She dipped the quill once more in the colourful ink and, with a flourish, scrawled on the outside of the letter:

Mrs. Estelle Lovegood
Just Beyond

Her letter finished, Luna leaned against the window dreamily to watch the trees go past. She wasn't sure how long she remained there, but she did not sit up straight again until she felt the train beginning to slow.

A quick peek out the window revealed that they were approaching King's Cross station. Luna took her time packing her ink, quill, and leftover parchment back into her satchel and gathering up her bags. She knew she would have just enough time to get everything together. She always did.

Luna was the last to get off of the Hogwarts Express, as she always was. She carefully made her way down onto the platform, lugging her bags along with her and clutching the envelope in one hand. Her wide eyes had no trouble finding her father, the only wizard still looking in the direction of the train. Mr. Lovegood's slender face spread into a delighted grin when he caught sight of his only daughter making her way towards him across the platform.

Without saying a word, he swept towards her, his robes billowing out behind him, and lifted her up into a mighty embrace. The bags she had been dragging behind her fell to the ground, forgotten for the moment.

"Welcome home, Ragamuffin," he said as he kissed her head, his voice muffled by her hair. Luna squeezed him as tightly as she could, burying her face in his robes and taking a moment to breathe in the familiar scent of cinnamon that always clung to her father.

"I missed you, Daddy," she said. Mr. Lovegood grinned and ruffled her scraggly blonde hair.

"I missed you too," he said, then looked around behind him. Luna followed his gaze and saw Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville preparing to walk through the barrier together.

"Did you get a chance to say goodbye to your friends?" Mr. Lovegood asked. Luna smiled a little.

"As much as I needed to," Luna replied. Her father glanced down at her curiously, but said nothing more about it.

"Locomotor Bags!" he said, pointing his wand at the pile of luggage Luna had dragged onto the platform with her. They rose into the air as one and hovered a short distance above the ground, waiting to be directed. Mr. Lovegood flicked his wand and the bags began bobbing their way across the platform towards the booth where the two of them would use a portkey to go to Diagon Alley. Two large post owls sat serenely at the edge of the booth, watching as the Lovegoods passed.

"Oh!" Luna exclaimed at the sight of them, remembering the letter that was still clutched in her hand, "Daddy, may I have a few knuts?" Mr. Lovegood dug into his coin purse and pulled out three bronze coins, which he dropped into his daughter's palm.

Eagerly, Luna motioned to one of the owls, which fluttered over to land on her outstretched arm. She tucked the three knuts into the sack on the owl's leg, and held the letter up for it to clasp. She leaned in close and rested her forehead against the top of the owl's head.

"You'll know better than me where to take this," she said softly. In a single, graceful motion, the owl snatched the letter and took off into the sky.

As Luna watched it go, she began singing softly to herself. There were no words, just a melody that she remembered from her childhood, and that she had heard again from beyond the veil. A satisfied smile curved her lips as her hand found her father's, and they went into the booth together.