The opening of the waiting room doors took me totally by surprise. I had been looking up at a large wall tapestry which featured the Coat of Arms of Hogwarts and was about to ask someone if they thought the Founders had chosen the animals that represented their Houses, when the sound of the footsteps brought my attention back into the room. I turned around to see what all the noise was, and realized that somehow I had been left behind. I walked out of the door onto the landing, and saw that all of the other students had already crossed through an even larger doorway. I was alone on the landing except for a grizzled old man and a most interestingly looking cat. The cat was steadily snaking its way between the man’s feet, rubbing its back on the man’s big brown boots as I approached the doors.

I stopped, crouched down to the cat’s eye level and said, “Hello, my name is Luna Lovegood.” After this introduction, I extended my right arm palm up slightly more than half way to the feline to see if it would respond.

“Oh, I wouldn’t touch her if I were you. Besides, you’re late, so you best get inside there for the Sorting,” said the old man whose face and voice were both scowls.

Pulling my hand back and not looking up at the man, I told the now motionless cat, “I’ve got to go now. Maybe we can talk later.” As I stood up and looked into the man’s face, he seemed offended by my attempt to talk to the cat.

By the time I actually entered the Great Hall, the old female teacher stood at the front hall next to a chair with a hat on it. I decided it probably was best that I join the rest of them just in case something important happened.

As I entered into the Great Hall, I saw a most interesting sight. In the air above four long tables arranged in rows were hundreds of bobbing candles. As I stood in the aisle between two of the tables gazing up at the candles, I felt something brush against my shoulder. Two people were walking past. One was a tall, red-haired boy and the second was a younger girl with very bushy, brown hair. I heard the girl ask him how was possible that two boys could miss the train to Hogwarts and no one notice. The boy didn’t know, but he was certain that his mother was going to blame him for it.

I followed the pair down the center aisle listening to their discussion until they sat down on a bench close to the front of the Hall. As the duo sat down, they both turned their faces toward the front. I also looked over and saw that the female Professor was crooking a finger at me. As I approached, she pointed to a spot near her for me to stand. As I arrived at the front of the group Professor McGonagall said, “Onesimus Austin.”

A thin, blond haired boy walked up to the stool and sat upon it. The old woman placed the hat on his head and it soon yelled “RAVENCLAW!” A bunch of people behind me clapped. After the next name was announced, I realized that her list was alphabetic by last name. I had plenty of time.

Over to my left I saw Mr. Hagrid sitting at the large table that ran across the front of the Hall. We had met at the Hogsmeade railway platform and I asked him about the coat he was wearing. We held a nice conversation all the way until we arrived at the lake and we continued the talk on the boat trip across to the castle. He had told me about the unicorns, centaurs, and Thestrals that lived in the forest he was in charge of. I decided to wait for my name while talking to him.

I walked toward the table where all the adults sat. As I walked by a thin man with long, black hair attempted to grab my arm. I jumped back and waved my index finger at him to tell him that was not appropriate behavior. Three seats to the left of dark man, I saw an old man with a very long beard; he seemed to enjoying a joke or something. As I walked by, the old man gave me a wink.

Finally, I made it over to Mr. Hagrid’s seat. He looked quite surprised that I was standing in front of him. He told me, “Luna, you best be getting back to the rest of the students. You don’t want to get into trouble, do you?”

I shook my head, not knowing why talking to him would get me into trouble. Wasn’t I at Hogwarts to learn? Don’t you learn by asking questions? I just looked into his concerned, large face and asked the questions that had brought me over to him. “What do Threstrals eat? Do they all eat the same kind of food?”

Hagrid looked nervously down the table to his left toward the old, bearded man as a name that sounded like Creevey was announced. When the big man started to answer, it was obvious he was trying to whisper, but his voice came out just about as loud as a normal man’s talking.

“Well, Threstrals are a bit like people, actually. When they’re really young they nurse off their mums. When they are too old to nurse they eat apples, figs, and greens. However, when it’s time for them to test their wings, their tastes change again and they prefer meat. The bloodier the meat is the better.”

“Wow! Could you take me out tonight to see them?” I asked.

“Can’t, it’s agains’ the rules. Besides, Luna, wouldn’t you be afraid of being in the forest after dark?” he added in his attempted whisper.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Why would I be afraid to be in a forest?

Suddenly, Mr. Hagrid dropped his gaze and acted really interested in his large twitching fingers. At the same time from just behind and almost a foot above my head, I heard someone clearing their throat. I turned to find the tall, black-robed female teacher looking down at me over her reading glasses.

She took my left hand and said, “It’s about time that you join the rest of your classmates in front of the stool.” The woman’s voice was stern and full of authority, but I could tell she wasn’t being threatening. So, I allowed myself to be lead into the front of the group standing before the stool.

The Professor announced a last name beginning with the letter J, but by then I had noticed something rather magnificent. Above the floating candles, the night sky was shown clearly. The skies in London or in Ottery St. Catchpole were never this clear of Muggle lights. I tried to find all the constellations father had taught me. I had just found the Little Slashkilter, when I felt someone tap me on my shoulder.

The person who had tapped me was a freckle faced, red haired girl who was pointing toward the Professor. The austere old woman was glaring down at me and said, “Are you Luna Lovegood?” I nodded my head up and down. “Well then,” she added, pointing toward the stool.

I walked up to the stool and sat facing the staff table. From behind, I heard a trickle of laughter. I turned to see what was so funny. Unfortunately as I turned around, my swinging legs accidentally kicked Professor McGonagall in the shin. The kick almost made her drop the hat that she had been trying to lower onto my head.

McGonagall gave me a stern look over her reading glasses and whispered, “Please sit still until I’ve placed the Sorting Hat upon your head.” As she spoke, I remembered Father’s talk on Platform Nine and Three Quarters about being respectful of my teachers wishes even if they seemed rather silly. In order to be still, I pulled my knees up into my chest, raised my shoulders blades almost to my ears, took a deep breath and waited for the hat to be placed upon my head.

As soon as the hat touched me, I heard a male voice that seemed to be coming from inside my head. I raised my hands up and touched the brim of the hat.

“You have curiosity and a thirst to know, very Ravenclaw. Also there is an unusual independence and total disregard for the status quo, could be Gryffindor. No desire for status or power, Hufflepuff perhaps. No Slytherin traits anywhere to be found in you,” said the voice in my head.

I couldn’t be quiet any longer, “What are you? How were you made? Is the voice you speak with the voice of the man who charmed you? Do you think for yourself? Do you have a name? My name’s Luna,” I asked.

“I’m the Sorting Hat and I’ve already explained how I was made but you didn’t listen. My voice is simply my voice. And I think no more or no less than any one else does,” the hat replied. I had to laugh at that. I think no more or no less than any one else does.

“No, you being in Hufflepuff is out. In Gryffindor, you’d be able to explore your the limits of your individuality and learn to be a team player. As a Ravenclaw, you would learn to both focus and expand your mind,” the hat pondered.

“How can I both focus and expand my mind?” I asked.

“You know so much, with a very long way to go. However, you should be smart enough to not believe everything you think you know. Letting go of what you think you know is where wisdom does start. You have a better chance at being wise than you do of being smart,” the hat composed.

“I don’t understand. Would you please explain?” I pleaded with the hat.

“No, wisdom is a journey and to equip you for it all, is to say to everybody,” the hat’s voice echoed in my head. “RAVENCLAW,” I heard through my ears. Unlike the other pronouncements of the hat, no applause followed my sorting. The old Professor pulled the hat off my head and I just sat there not knowing what to do or where I should go.

Finally, a pretty, curly haired older girl approached me with her hand extended said, “Hello Luna, I’m Penelope Clearwater. Please follow me to the Ravenclaw table.” I took Penelope’s hand and skipped to keep up with the taller girl until we arrived at our table.

She stopped realizing that he had not laughed once at her imitation of the Sorting Hat. He had always laughed at that part of her story before. Luna slid her hand, groping along the cold stone floor to her left accidentally brushing against their water bottle. When her arm failed to reach its target, she concentrated on the sound of his breathing. She slid twice to the left reached out and found the thin, coarse blanket that was his bed. Gently, she slid her hand across the blanket, found the nail that he kept hidden, and eventually located his hand. It had a very clammy feeling. She stood up in the dark, placed her hand upon the cold wall and took two large steps along the back wall. Bending over, Luna found her own blanket, picked it off the floor and gently shook it out in the air. Retracing her steps, she blindly laid her blanket over his sleeping form. Finally, she took his hand within hers hoping their warmth might help him somehow.

Luna could feel him awaken either from warmth of her touch or the movement of his hand. “Oh yes, that was very funny. I do like the part of your story when on your first morning at Hogwarts, the poor Prefect had to hunt around the whole school until she found you talking with the portraits,” he wheezed in an abnormally weak voice.

She was still an hour away from the portraits, but she decided it was best for Mr. Ollivander to make it a short story night.

Penelope had found me talking with the portrait of a woman named Apphia who had a cat called Guinevere. We arrived in the Great Hall just in time to see breakfast disappear from the tables. Penelope was not very happy with me.

My Head of House, Professor Flitwick, began to hand out the first-year class schedules. Penelope snatched my schedule out of my hand before I even got to finish reading it. She asked the Professor about our first class being Potions. She seemed really concerned about it.

I didn’t catch much of their conversation, but I hear him say to her, “Don’t worry Penny, our good Potions teacher hasn’t killed a student in years.”

Penelope took my hand and led all of us down into the dungeon for our very first class. When we arrived, we found the red-haired boy from the night before and he was giving all of his first-years a little inspection. Just as he finished, the door in front of us opened and out stepped the man who had tried to grab me the previous night: Professor Snape.

Professor Snape sneered as he said, “Clearwater and Weasley, don’t tell me you’ve been demoted to first-year status.” The dark man’s voice was like no other voice I’d ever heard. The voice was like a Dwale berry dipped in thick molasses: slow and possibly deadly. He stared at the Gryffindors and then at me and said, “Another Weasley! Percy, please tell me she is the last of your clan that I must endure teaching. Oh look, our little Ravenclaw showoff from the Sorting Ceremony. How precious.”

Listening to his voice, I thought that this must be like what it is to hear the songs of the Blibbering Humdinger, who entrances its prey with its song and then devours it. You wanted to listen to it, but you fear what might happen.

He opened the door and all of us first-year students went inside. I had found a seat in the second row center when the Professor pulled out his wand from his sleeve and moved my books to one of the two desks directly in front of him. A red-haired Gryffindor girl, who I didn’t yet know was Ginny Weasley, soon occupied the other desk.

Yet, before we could get out our parchment and quills, the large, dark man walked in front of my neighbor and began asking her question after question. He didn’t even stop to let her finish her answers. Ginny sat there and tried her best at answering.

I must have had a strange look on my face, because the next thing I knew he turned to me and said, “Do you think this girl’s ignorance is funny? Quick, tell me what is a bezoar and to what use would you put it?”

I looked him in the eyes and answered, “A bezoar is a stone found in a goat’s stomach and it is the second best antidote for unknown poisons.”

He looked disappointed and confused. Finally, he said in his slowest and deepest voice yet almost spitting the words out, “And what pray tell, in your vast experience, is the best antidote for an unknown poison?”

The answer was so simple, “Nargle dung is the best thing for poison thorns or bites. It is also just as effective as a bezoar when you are dealing with a swallowed poison.

Professor Snape bent low over my head and said, “Nargle dung? What is a Nargle! Are you trying to insult my intelligence, girl?”

I was confused. Didn’t everyone know about Nargles? The Quibbler had published a story just three months ago about a man who saved his brother’s life by use of Nargle dung. Maybe as a Potions teacher, Professor Snape was unfamiliar with magical creatures. I tried to explain, “Nargles are tiny salamander-like lizards that infest holly and mistletoe. If you are ignorant of them, I’m sure Mr. Hagrid could teach you,” was all I got out of my mouth before fire erupted from behind the curtain of black hair.

“Hagrid…teach…me! Ten points from Ravenclaw for wasting my time with your babbling nonsense and ten additional points for your cheek,” he said, giving me a look of anger.

In the future, I’d know that when he gave me that look it meant he was in no mood for being helped to understand. However this was my first Potions class and I tried to help him anyway, “Sir, Nargles aren’t babbling nonsense. My father published a story about them in The Quibblerand,” I started.

The palm of the man’s hand slapped the desk just inches in front of me. “Twenty more points from Ravenclaw for insolence,” he said, showing a grin as if he’d won something.

I started to say something to him when he turned his head toward me and his eyes seemed to bore into my head. Suddenly, my head hurt and my ears rang. I looked at him and cleared my head. As I looked up, I saw the teacher had taken a step back to his lectern. He seemed to be surprised. I realized that somehow what I had done had blocked whatever he was doing. The scary man was looking at me with an unchanging gaze. He looked at me like someone struggling to comprehend a tough Arithmancy problem.

After a couple of seconds, he spoke in a loud voice to the class, “Take out your textbook and in silence read the first chapter. Any one who speaks will spend all Saturday afternoon in detention with me.”

I pulled out my book and pretended to read. I’d never met anyone like the poor Professor. He seemed so angry and alone. He needed someone to be his friend. When the school day was over, I wrote to my father to have him send The Quibbler article about the Nargle dung to Professor Snape. I knew that after he read the article he would apologize for being so rude and we could become friends.

Luna finished her story. He had fallen asleep long before the end of her tale. Yet she had kept on with the telling speaking softer and slower with each line. It was the same as when you keep singing a lullaby even after the child is asleep. She reached out and found her cellmates hand. The clamminess was gone. He could keep her blanket for tonight. She walked over and picked up the slim pillow and laid down a step from Mr. Ollivander.

In the morning, he would wake up and be angry with her for giving him her blanket. She smiled. If she ignored him at start, the argument might last all morning. The exercise would do them both good and it would be a fun way to waste half the day.

She closed her eyes. Suddenly an image blossomed of her mother, cat-like laying next to her on her parent’s large warm bed, singing a song and absent-mindedly stroking her hair. Luna could see the wreath of holly just above her mother’s clear, grey eyes and the ever present smile

The song she sang was a lullaby about a maid that went for a walk in the woods and found a knight whom had fallen into the mire and was drowning. The maid rescued the knight who was really the prince. The prince offered to marry her in thanks for her rescue. The maid refused, because she was in love with another. She had not saved him to gain a husband. She had saved him because she could help. As Luna listened to the song, her eyes grew heavy and she slowly fell asleep.

“Stand back away from the door,” said a squeaky voice from outside the room. The door slowly opened and a tidal wave of light crashed into the dark room blinding its three occupants. Luna shielded her eyes and saw their caretaker, Wormtail, cross the threshold carrying a new water bottle, a clean chamber pot, and a tray with bowls on it. The tray had only two bowls on it not the normal three bowls of food. As Luna moved her eyes from the tray, she saw Draco Malfoy nervously holding his wand on the prisoners.

Luna’s gaze left Malfoy and continued across until she found Mr. Ollivander. He sadly nodded back to her. She turned to Reg. He seemed quite perplexed by the tray with only two bowls. “Where’s the third bowl?” Reg asked Wormtail.

“No need for three, because today is ‘moving day’ for one of you,” Pettigrew replied. Reg’s mood seemed to brighten; while a feeble moan escaped the Wandmaker’s lips.

“You mean you’ll be letting one of us go?” eagerly asked Reg.

“One of you’ll leave here in a few hours,” squeaked the little man.

Luna and Ollivander grasped the bowls off the hovering tray and moved next to Reg against the wall opposite the door. Draco stepped forward and with this wand magically swapped the new water bottle for the almost empty one on the floor and the new pot for the old. As Pettigrew with the empty tray stepped out of the door, Draco stood there for second just looking across the room at the three of them. Luna thought she could almost see pity and shame on his thin blonde face. Re-mastering control of his emotions, Draco thrust his wand toward the trio and ordered them to sit. The three slid down the wall with Luna and Ollivander cradling the precious bowls. After they were seated, the young man walked out the door and the door’s closing returned the room to its usual darkness.

Reg was excited; he seemed like a child on Christmas Eve. “I hope it’s me,” he gushed.

“No, you don’t,” she replied, remembering her own first moving day.

“On, my first ‘moving day’, Professor Burbage was moved. I sat down here and I heard him torture and murder her. Today will be my fourth ‘moving day’, no one who was been moved has survived,” said the old man, his voice cracking with the horror the phrase encompassed.

The temperature in the room seemed to fall ten degrees as what the wandmaker had said sank into the maintenance man. “It’s good that I got my wife and kids to my aunt in Amsterdam. They’re safe there,” Reg spoke in a whisper.

The trio spent the next five minutes passing the two bowls of nourishment between them. Each took turns taking a handful of the barely edible food, eating it and then passing the bowl on to the next one.

“Did I ever tell you how I first met my wife, Luna?” Reg started.

The answer was yes, but Luna replied, “Tell me, Reg. I bet it was romantic.”

“On the Valentine weekend Hogsmeade visit during my sixth year, I was in The Three Broomsticks with the other members of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. They had just bought me a Butterbeer to celebrate my release from the Hospital Wing after I’d taken a Bludger against Slytherin. As the arms of my teammates fell from a toast, I saw a group of younger Ravenclaw girls enter. Somehow, it was like there were extra lights shining on her. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Now I’d never ever asked a girl out before, but I knew that I had to speak to her or die. So, I left my snickering mates at the window table. I walked over to booth that held the group of girls. I looked at her and said. ‘My name’s Reginald Cattermole and I’m gonna marry you.’ The other girls just laughed at me, but she didn’t. She just looked up at me with those big brown eyes and said that her name was Mary Quince and if what I said was so, we should probably get a table by ourselves so we can get to know each other.”

About twenty minutes later, Reg’s tale ceased as heavy footfalls reverberated off the stairs leading down to the little room. Reg's sweaty left palm clasped Luna’s right hand and she took the familiar wrinkled wandmaker’s hand into hers. Powerless, the trio sat on the floor and waited as they heard the approach of doom.

“We must stand,” Luna said as sense of urgency seemed to fill her. She knew instinctively that standing was the right thing to do, because it was what Harry Potter would do.

“Why?” asked Reg, resignation resonating through his voice.

“She’s right. We must stand. We must show them we are not afraid,” whispered Mr. Ollivander.

“Back away from the door,” spoke the deep, rasping voice of the Death Eater Yaxley.

The trio in the dark stood up hand-in-hand-in-hand with their backs against the wall. Even though the light pouring through the opened door was blinding their eyes no one released the hand of their companion.

Yaxley sneered at the blinking threesome and said, “What a nice collection of sheep. If I had my way, we’d be moving the lot of you today, but I’ve got orders for only one of you.”

Ollivander tottered ahead still clutching Luna left hand in his right and in a weak voice he plead, “Take me, please. Let them live, I’ve got no one.”

Yaxley laughed, “How noble he is! You’re not the one we want; now get back to the wall.” Yaxley shoved the old man against the wall and though the collision knocked the breath out of him, his hand held hers firmly. Luna felt a tight squeeze from Reg’s hand. She looked at the Death Eater and awaited her fate. “Take him. He hasn’t come clean about who the Blood Traitors were that helped his family escape justice.”

“No one helped us! My wife planned the whole escape,” he pleaded.

“Your wife is a Mudblood, an inferior, so she couldn’t have outsmarted the ministry,” Yaxley countered. The assisting Death Eaters tried to pull Reg away from Luna, but she found she could not let go of his hand. After a tug or two, the larger of the two Death Eaters backhanded her across her cheek knocking her down to the floor. With a quick pull, Reg’s hand slipped out of her grasp.

As the door closed entombing them back into the darkness, they could hear Reg’s begging, “Mary is too smart! She was in Ravenclaw and a nurse at St. Mungo’s. The escape plan was all hers. I just got caught, because I left a sack of gold on the table and you caught up with me before I could escape with it!” The next sounds they heard was the opening scream of torture.

“No,” Luna moaned into the darkness, looking up at the floor above them.

She could hear Ollivander sliding on the floor through the darkness toward her. The old man took her in a hug and the two just held on to each other listening to the screams from above. After a couple of minutes, Luna heard Mr. Ollivander’s trembling voice begin to speak, “It was on the Valentine weekend Hogsmeade visit during his sixth year. He was in the Three Broomsticks with the other members of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.”

He fell silent after an extremely loud scream that was followed by a round of maniacal laughter. Luna couldn’t stand to hear it, so she spoke, “They had just bought him a Butterbeer to celebrate his release from the Hospital Wing after he’d taken a Bludger against Slytherin. As the arms of his teammates fell from a toast, Reg saw a group of younger Ravenclaw girls enter. Somehow, it was like there were extra lights shining on her. He couldn’t take my eyes off of her.”.

Suddenly, the screaming ended with a thud on the floor above. Luna cried into the shoulders of the old man. He continued speaking, “Now Reg had never ever asked a girl out before, but he knew that he had to speak to her or die.” With the phrase on his lips the old wandmaker stopped and Luna felt a quaver run through his entire body.

She continued, “So, he left his snickering mates at the window table and walked over to the group of girls and he looked at her and said. My name’s Reginald Cattermole and I’m gonna marry you.”

When they finished Reg’s story, Luna and Ollivander sat on the cold stone floor and leaned on each other for support. She closed her eyes to try to escape into sleep. However, she dreamed that the door opened and there stood a nervous Draco standing next to Wormtail who's tray held only one bowl. She was jolted awake.

“I had the same dream,” the old man spoke in weak voice. “If they come for you, they will have to take you over my dead body. However, if they come for me you must let me go. You must survive and live a life full of light and love. Will you do that for me? Luna, will you promise?”

She thought of what it would be like to be alone in this room listening to his screams of anguish. Luna feared it might drive her mad.

“You’ve not promised yet,” he added, with more authority in his voice.

She swallowed and replied, “I promise.”

He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. Luna silently leaned against him, closed her eyes and escaped the dungeon into a troubled sleep.

“Eat,” she said. “Please,” Luna requested. She waited and got no response. “You must eat to keep your strength up,” she added.

“Eat just a little bit,” she coaxed him. Luna reached down blindly into the bowl and dug into the lump with her index finger. She concentrated on his breathing and found the location of the Wandmaker’s mouth. She slipped her finger into his mouth leaving behind the morsel.

“Did I ever tell you the story about the House Elf in a maroon jumper that helped Ginny and I escape the Carrows?” she offered.

“No more stories. No more false hope. Just let me die,” his feeble voice failing on the last word.

Luna felt the old man’s despair touch her. She shook her head and thought about Ginny and Neville and the sadness did not take hold. “You can’t die. You promised,” Luna said. “You said you would fight them if they came for me,” she reminded him.

“The flesh is weak,” he answered reaching out through the darkness to gently touch her cheek. Luna reached up and found his hand. The hand felt like a skeleton’s hand cold and bony. “Let me go, it will be more merciful,” he said.

“If you die, he wins. If you go who will remember Professor Burbage or Reg?” she offered.

“You will,” he whispered.

Suddenly, the duo heard cheering followed by arguments and screaming. Luna looked up at the ceiling. Whatever it was could not be good.

Luna was just getting her eyes focused, when she felt her right hand jerk as a weight fell against her side. In the shrouded blue-grey moonlight, she saw that Mr. Ollivander had swooned and fallen against her. Letting go of Dobby’s hand, the thin young woman struggled to catch the older man’s head and gently lowered it onto the patch of enclosed grass that they were standing on. Dean Thomas, who had also seen the Wandmaker’s collapse, came to her aid just as she was laying him on the ground.

After he was finished helping Luna, Dean straightened up and looked toward the cottage. “I’ll get help,” whispered Dean.

“Dean, have you met them before?” she asked. As the half moon fully broke through the clouds, she saw Dean shake his head from side to side. “I have. Please stay here with Mr. Ollivander. Thank you, Dobby,” Luna said caressing his check while looking down into his large moist eyes.

“Dobby must get back and help Harry Potter now, Miss” and with the statement the Elf disappeared back to Malfoy Manor.

The sound of the twin Apparations, and the conversation in their front yard must have alerted the occupants of the small cottage that there were uninvited guests just outside of their home. As Luna approached the cottage, she heard the sound of muffled voices from just behind the closed front door.

Luna took a deep breath, knocked on the oaken front door and in as loud a voice as she could muster, spoke, “My name is Luna Lovegood. I’m a friend of Bill’s sister Ginny. We met in the Hospital Wing of Hogwart’s the night Dumbledore died.”

The sound of whispering came to her through the door and after maybe a minute, the door cautiously opened just wide enough to permit a women’s eye to stare appraisingly out at her. Maybe he was careless or maybe the months living in the dark had made her other senses more acute, but Luna turned to her right and said, “Hello Bill, have you heard from Ginny recently?”

The slight intake of air from right in front of her confirmed the guess of his location. She heard his half whispered questions, “How did you find us? Why did you come here of all places?” Concern flooded his voice.

“Harry Potter and your brother Ron told the House-elf Dobby to bring us here. Dobby just returned to help rescue Harry, Ron, Hermione Granger, and a Goblin,” she explained. “Please you must help us. Mr. Ollivander has collapsed. Help Dean and me get him inside,” she pleaded.

“Ron’s in trouble! Where? Tell me, I’ll go to him,” he said, as if not hearing anything after his little brother’s name.

“No. Dobby will bring them here. If you go, you might get captured. You must help us, Mr. Ollivander may be dying on your doorstep,” she ordered in an imitation of the tone she’d heard Ginny use so often.

Bill stood there in front of her suspended. He desperately wanted to help his little brother and he also desperately wanted to protect his wife and home. Finally, the cottage front door opened all of the way and into the doorway, wearing a flowery house robe, stepped Fleur Weasley. Fluer’s wand was pointed at Luna. “Whom did you escort out of the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts?” she demanded in an authoritarian tone that accentuated her French accent.

“Neville Longbottom,” Luna replied.

“She is definitely the Lovegood girl. Bill, go bring them in before the Death Eaters find them,” she ordered, “I’ll make some hot water for tea or cocoa.” Fleur lowered her wand and stuck it into her robe’s side pocket.

Bill accepted his wife’s urgings like a mental tie-breaker and walked out across to the prone form in his yard. In a couple of minutes, he returned to the doorway with Dean at his side carrying Mr. Ollivander like a small child in his arms. Luna followed Bill as he carried the old man into the cottage’s sitting room. He gently lowered the Wandmaker onto the little couch laying his head on a soft down pillow.

“I’ll take care of him now,” Luna said, “Please, when your wife is ready, could someone bring in some tea for us. And thank you, Bill.”

Luna got down on her knees on the floor in front of the couch and slipped off the filthy slippers that were on the wandmaker’s feet. Luna brushed back his hair and felt his forehead. He was neither feverish nor clammy. The Apparation must have just been too much for his weakened condition. She reached across him and took the colorful comforter that adorned the back of the couch and laid it over his form.

Luna finished tucking in Mr. Ollivander and seated herself on the floor between her friends head and the table. In a couple of minutes, Fleur brought in a tray with two mugs of tea and a plate full of homemade shortbread biscuits into the room. Fleur sat the tray on the little table in front of the Luna. Luna thanked her hostess and sipped the tea to test its heat. After waiting for a couple of minutes for the liquid to cool, she awoke her patient and aided in his drinking of the warm liquid and eating of a small snack.

The tea and the light food seemed to revive him. He sat up, in spite of Luna’s protesting, and gazed around the small room. After about five minutes, Fleur peaked in and smiled at her guests. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he softly spoke to the young housewife. “I hope not be too much of a bother,” he added, after another sip and a bit of biscuit.

“It is no bother. With the world the way it is, any friendly visitor is welcomed here,” said Fleur, smiling at the man on her couch. “Although, if five more are to arrive tonight, it might get a bit crowded in here.”

Suddenly a scream came from the front of the cottage; the anguished cry caused Luna’s heart to skip. She excused herself from Mr. Ollivander and went to the front door. Silhouetted in the front yard, Harry Potter was clutching something. Luna’s heart sank as she realized that he was holding Dobby.

She had just found her fourth constellation when she sensed his arrival. “Are you sure you should be up and outside?” she asked, her eyes still on the night sky.

“The bedroom was closing in on me. I had to escape it and our hostess’ ministrations. I didn’t know which would smother me first,” he said with a slight sense of humor in his voice.

Luna smiled. She thought back and realized it had been since before Reg’s moving that she had heard so such life in his voice.

“I was thinking about what happened to us at Malfoy Manor and what the Sorting Hat told once me. I think they explain something I’ve always wondered about Hermione Granger,” she spoke in an oft-handed way.

What can one learn from months of captivity and torture?” he asked

“We had everything we knew taken away from us. The things we wizards take for granted. Everything we had learned at school was useless. We only had each other, some blankets, a nail, and our minds. A Muggle-born wizard must take everything that they were told by their parents and schools about was possible and impossible and forget it. I think that’s why Hermione reads so much. She’s trying to find the rules of the world she was thrust into. The Sorting Hat told me that, ‘Letting go of what you think you know is where wisdom does start,’” she said. “Either that or she just likes books,” Luna added upon further reflection.

“Luna, you are among the wisest people I’ve ever met,” Ollivander answered, the power in his voice had lessened slightly. Luna noted it and turned her senses to his breathing.

“I can feel you reading me. Your breathing changed,” the Wandmaker said in response to her change of focus. The old man slipped next to her like he had so many times in the basement. He seemed to draw strength from the sense of freedom and joined her in the star gazing.

Luna smiled into the darkness and wondered how long this increased sensitivity would last. She took one of the blankets that she had been sitting on, laid it across their laps and went back to the hunting for constellations.

In the morning, a panicked Bill Weasley came crashing out of the cottage’s front door and found the two of them leaning with their backs against the cottage wall with a blankets tucked across their laps as they soundly slept. The scarred man looked at the odd couple and wondered what in the world the two of them had been doing outside at night.

Fleur Weasley hugged Mr. Ollivander. The old man was strong enough to be moved now and he would be leaving the cottage after lunch. The Wandmaker shook Bill’s hand and looked into Luna’s eyes. Luna, who had refused to leave him until he was healthy, had helped pack his bags for the trip to join the Weasleys.

“Before I leave, I must have some time with Luna,” he said, as he looked at his host and hostess, “Can we use the sitting room? Can the doors be closed? And may I borrow your wand?” Ollivander reached out his left hand toward Bill.

Fleur gave her husband a confused look. Bill shrugged at her, nodded his acquiescence, and pulled his wand out of his vest pocket.

Ollivander took Bill’s wand and with it motioned for Luna to enter the other room. The old man examined the stick, slowly rolled it between his fingers and commented, “Excellent wand, you’ve kept it well maintained.” After the comment, he joined the young blonde in the other room and he shut the door behind them.

Ollivander, without saying a word, took Luna by the arm and spun on the spot. She felt a slight squeezing and when her eyes focused she found herself inside a sealed dimly lit room. Inside the room, Luna turned to find mountains of little boxes. She realized she was in a room full of wands.

Ollivander moved over to an empty spot on the floor. The Wandmaker closed his eyes and waved the borrowed stick. Suddenly, in the middle of the empty place in the floor, a waist high old fashioned combination safe appeared. He took Bill’s wand and tapped the door three times. The door of the safe opened and Ollivander reached into the safe and took out a wand. “An Ollivander’s wand cannot be taken from him. If seized or lost they always return to this vault,” he explained.

The old man, invigorated by being ‘home’, hopped from pile to pile picking up the little boxes and contemplating. “No, it must be a new wand. A wand made especially for you,” said the old man with a twinkle in his eye.

“Can I have one made from the horn of a Crumple-horned Snorkack?” she eagerly requested.

The old man’s left eye brow rose. He paused and then answered, “Do you remember what the sorting hat told you?” She nodded. “There is no such creature Luna,” he asserted.

“You’re wrong. Daddy’s got a horn at home. He wrote and told me so,” Luna added with absolute certainty.

Ollivander sighed and with a slight wave of the wand, he conjured a vase of daisies out of thin air. “Luna, what you’ve seen here must be a secret. I only brought you here to show how much I trust you,” the old man said with an obvious sense of pride. Luna thanked the Wandmaker and they Apparated back to the cottage.

The sitting room door opened and out walked Luna and Mr. Ollivander. Luna handed the vase of daisies to Fleur as Ollivander handed the borrowed wand back to Bill. Bill Weasley noticed that just visible from the Wandmaker’s robe pocket was the brown handle of a wand. Bill looked at his wife and she smiled back at him each understanding what had just happened.

Mr. Ollivander hugged Luna. A small tear swelled up in his left eye but it refused to fall down his cheek. As he released the hug, the palm of his left hand came to rest on her right cheek and he said, “Keep in touch, my dear. I will be very disappointed if I do not hear from you. In fact, I might come looking for you.” The ancient Wandmaker pointed his wand up the stairway and floating down into the kitchen came his packed bags.

Luna looked out the door and just beyond the little gate leading into the lane; she saw Bill and Mr. Ollivander disappear. She was reminded how she had felt on that first trip on the Hogwart’s Express as she watched her Father slide away from the train window. She wondered if she would ever be over what happened in Malfoy Manor. She wondered if maybe it would be best if she was never over it.

Luna was the first to arrive at Parvati’s side. Yet, she was too late to help. Neville, Seamus and other defenders of Hogwarts, who answered the cries, now stood mutely to Luna’s right. Parvati Patil, her robe soaked with blood from a wound in her side, was distraught, kneeling over a quiet, dark form lying motionless in the nighttime grass.

“I’m sorry! I’m…soooo...sorry,” cried the young woman, as she stroked an unfeeling hand.

Seamus reached down, pulled his sobbing housemate to her feet and took her into his arms. He whispered soft, consoling words into her ear, but the words did nothing to stem the flow of anguished tears. Onesimus Austin, a brown haired Ravenclaw, lowered his wand to move the body into the school. As he moved, Luna reached out a hand and touched him on the shoulder. “No, Nessie. She’s a friend. Neville and I will take care of her,” she told him.

Neville stowed his wand in his robe’s pocket and leaned over to pick up the body in a fireman’s carry. After he had steadied himself, Neville began a slow march toward the school. Luna with her wand lit, reached onto the ground to pick up her friend’s wand and a small golden heart shaped locket. The locket was opened and she saw it contained a picture of a newborn baby and a smiling dark haired man. She touched the image of the child with her index finger and felt a sad kinship with the now motherless infant.

Luna caught up to Neville just as they arrived at the entrance of the Great Hall. As they entered the room, she saw to her left Seamus with his arm around the wounded Parvarti near the end of the queue of those who were awaiting Madame Pomfrey’s ministrations. Directly in front of Luna laid a line of those whom were beyond Madame Pomfrey’s aid, their faces stared up blindly toward the magical ceiling Neville made a slight adjustment to his load and preceded toward the far end of the line which was near the raised platform that usually held the staff table. As they had walked about a third of the way down the line, Luna recognized a familiar face. “Neville place her here,” an even sadder Luna said.

Neville turned and waited for Luna to gently move the surrounding bodies to the side to make room. It wasn’t until he had gently laid Tonks on the linen sheet which covered stone floor that he saw who was laying next to her. “Professor Lupin,” escaped his lips. Neville seemed to shutter enraged and stood up straight to his full height. The young man’s fists were balled up as if ready to punch something.

Luna looked up at her friend and said, “I’ll take care of them. Go outside and see if there are others who can still be helped.” Neville nodded and taking long strides walked out through the doors.

Luna turned the bodies so that her hand lay upon his. She conjured a water-filled basin and a wash rag. By hand, she gently cleaned the blood and grime off Lupin’s face and gently fastened the locket back around Tonks’ neck. As Luna finished arranging Tonk’s hair, Ginny, her eyes red from grieving for Fred just up the line, found her friend in the Great Hall.

”Tonks! How?” asked Ginny.

“Bellatrix Lestrange,” answered Luna. “I saw it. After He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named announced his ‘cease fire’, Tonks saw Parvati Patil bleeding and stumbling toward the school. Tonks stopped to help her. Suddenly out of nowhere, Lestrange Apparated next to her and fired the Avada Kedavra. Tonks didn’t even have a chance to defend herself. It was murder,” Luna recounted, feeling an ache in her heart.

Somewhere in the middle of Luna’s description of Tonks’ death, Hermione Granger showed up. Luna had never seen Hermione act this way. She looked as if she was lost and confused. Hermione stared unblinkingly at the blank wall.

After about two minutes, Ginny waved her hand in front of Hermione’s face. Hermione’s head snapped up as if surprised by Ginny’s presence in the room. “Snape is dead,” she announced, with no emotion in her voice.

”Good!” spat Ginny, “Who did it? I want to shake their hand.

“Voldemort did it. He used that giant snake of his to kill him. As Snape died, he gave Harry…..something. Harry’s looking at it now,” Hermione said, seemingly rambling.

Luna thought about Professor Snape. She had once spent a half an hour thinking about how happy she would be if they could somehow get rid of him. However, Hermione’s news on top on everything else just left her feeling even sadder.

“They can’t get away with it anymore,” Ginny blazed at Hermione and Luna. “We’ve got to stop him and Bellatrix. She killed Tonks. Who will be next? As long as they’re alive, no one is safe. I’m going after her and I’m taking her out,” Ginny said, the fire from the early days of the second D.A. flashing through her eyes.

“She’s too powerful for you, Ginny,” Hermione calmly replied, “However, she might not be too powerful for the two of us.” Hermione looked at Ginny and matched her steel to Ginny’s fire.

Ginny stuck out her hand palm down, “All right, we do it for Tonks.”

Hermione nodded her head and placed her palm on top of Ginny’s hand and with sad determined voice spoke, “For Tonks.”

Without even considering what she was doing, Luna found her hand resting on top of the other two hands and she heard herself say, “No, for friends.”

The three young women, their hands still in the pile, looked into each other’s eyes. Each knew the price they might have to pay, but each pair of eyes showed an acceptance of this task. Luna thought that it was like they had been selected for this job long ago. Harry had taught them in the D.A. They had learned of Bellatrix’s evil though Neville and his parents. They had fought clumsily and yet held their own in the Ministry. They had defended the school twice now from the Death Eaters. The three of them had each put their lives on the line for the cause all this year. If Lestrange was going down, it seemed natural that they should be the agents of her downfall.

“Got a plan, Hermione?” Ginny asked.

“Only one, we find her and take the Bitch down,” she replied in a matter of fact voice.

“Well said,” Ginny grinned amazed that Hermione would ever speak like that.

“Oh, I don’t think so. By comparing Bellatrix Lestrange to a dog, it seems to me that you are giving her way too much credit,” Luna said, trying to come up with a more apt analogy.

Ginny giggled and Hermione grinned widely at her comment. Luna had no idea why they reacted that way.

Luna watched as Hermione and Ron skulked out of the Great Hall. She could almost see Harry under his magnificent cloak leading them toward some private celebration. As the duo disappeared into the hall, she turned to her left and saw Hannah Abbott using a cloth and a potion in her tender ministering of the burns on Neville’s forehead. Neville was obviously exhausted. Yet he was being pelted with requests to reenact his killing of the great snake with Gryffindor’s sword that lay on the table in front of him. Luna turned to her right and saw Ginny with her head on her mother’s shoulder both women with their arms intertwined. Luna felt very alone and yet not alone enough.

Without drawing any attention, she walked out of the Great Hall, past the location of the destroyed doorway and onto the front lawn of the castle. Luna found a patch of flat dry ground and seated herself on it. She sat there watching the sun finish its rising in the sky feeling numb and at a loss of what to do next. For the last three years, she had been part of Harry’s little army out to destroy Voldemort. Now, he was dead. Now what?

Luna sat on the school’s front lawn absorbing the sun’s warmth and light, when she saw something flop just beyond a destroyed Gargoyle. She got up and walked over to discover a small Thestral with an injured leg. The young woman sat down on the ground next to the skeletal creature, talked gently into its scaly ear and stroked the animal’s head to comfort it while with her oft hand gently inspecting the foal for the injury. Luna took her wand out from behind her ear to summon Hagrid, but she stopped. She would take care of the little flyer by herself.

Starting at the creature’s left hind quarter, she examined the leg and found that the creature’s problem was a fracture in its cannon. If she left the poor thing alone, it would eventually thrash around until the fracture caused enough injury to become fatal. However, Luna had seen too much death to allow one more victim today. With her wand she summoned two pieces of wood from the shattered oak school doors to fashion a splint. She looked around for some rope to tie it off but none was available. She was about to give up when a flicker of inspiration hit. She pointed her wand toward the Gamekeeper’s hut and silently flicked. Out of the door flying like some bizarre white bird was a skein of unicorn hair. She put a few hairs out of mass to bind the splint after she had set the bone. The improvised treatment worked. The Threstral foal stood and after some initial difficulty moved toward the rest of the surviving herd that was feasting on the carcasses that strewn the grounds. She smiled as she saw the foal nuzzled a female and began to nurse. In a day of death, she had just given back a life.

As she watched her still gimpy patient, Luna noticed beyond the Thestrals was Buckbeak licking his right foreclaw. She walked over and bowed low to the animal. Buckbeak, who was use to her being around Hagrid’s hut, returned the bow as his acceptance of her presence. Luna saw blood on the hoof. On her second try at stopping the bleeding, she was successful in bandaging up the noble warrior.

As she stroked Buckbeak’s large, feathered head she heard a familiar voice from behind her say, “I knew I’d find you out amongst nature.”

“I can’t stand to be inside for long. After Shell Cottage, I snuck out of my safe house every night so I could be under the stars. Even the Great Hall was too confining, besides these animals fought bravely on our side and no one seems to care that some of them were hurt. No one but me,” Luna sighed, as she turned around to face the bowing Mr. Ollivander.

“So now what, Luna? What will you do with your life?” he asked his eyes on Buckbeak. She shrugged in response. “You’ve a natural affinity with these creatures. I remember my adoptive father once telling me... Oh well, maybe I’ll tell you later,” he murmured.

Luna got the impression he was hiding something from her. She tilted her head to the right looking at the old man. In all of their months together, Mr. Ollivander had never once told her a story about himself. He had only repeated the stories Professor Burbage and the other previously moved. She knew no more about him that she did any other stranger. “You were adopted?” she queried.

“Oh, yes,” he answered waving off the question like some bothersome insect. “Luna, if I might be so bold to make a suggestion. You should go out into the world and see the Dragons in Romania, the Yeti in the Himalayas, and all of the other magical creatures. You should tour the world, walk in the rainforests of Brazil and New Guinea and every old wood forest you can. Find the trees with the most Bowtruckles on them, and get a feel for the wood. Does that sound interesting to you?” he asked, as a small smile appeared on his face.

“Yes, but I’m afraid that it might just be an easy form of hiding,” Luna answered surprising herself with her own insight.

“After what we’ve been through, Luna, we will need to take some time to heal. You should make no decisions today, but go home and talk things over with Xeno. Just because you are out exploring doesn’t mean you have to fall completely off the face of the Earth,” he added, looking into her face in a fatherly manner.

“You want to say something to me, but you are afraid. I can tell by the way you are breathing. After Malfoy Manor, how can talking to me make you afraid?” she asked.

Ollivander paused and an internal battle seemed to be being waged. Finally, a smile grew on his grey, wrinkled face. “I’d like to make you a proposition and tell you a secret that is well over two thousand years old. If you say no, I will have the right to remove the memory of it from you. Do you accept this condition?” he asked.

Luna, who had begun to feel a little drowsy from fatigue, felt a wave of new energy surge through her entire body, replied, “Of course, Mr. Ollivander.”

“Luna, Ollivander’s are found not born. For over two thousand years, Ollivanders has passed from Ollivander to son. However, the noble tradition may end with me,” he continued.

The small bell tinkled as the ancient wooden front door of Ollivanders opened. The Proprietor looked up from the robed black couple and their small dreadlocked daughter who he was helping and quietly excused himself from his customer. He turned to the newcomers his face beamed.

“Harry and Ginny Potter,” he said as he slowly walked around the counter to shake their hands. “It seems like only yesterday, that the perfect wands found the two of you. Only yesterday and yet a world away,” he said absent-mindedly.

Ollivander looked down at the taller of the two boys looking him in the eye. James Potter reflexively pulled back from the stranger and glanced at his mother looking for reassurance without seeming that he was looking for reassurance. Ginny made a little motion with her eyes going from her eldest son toward the older man. James stepped forward and made a little show of taking the old wandmaker’s hand and shaking it.

Harry used the time to look around the shop. He remembered the excitement of getting his own wand and the story of its brother that made his only other trip into this place such a vivid memory.

Ollivander looked at the parcel-laden arms of the Potter family and back to his other customers. “I’m rather busy right now. If you don’t mind, my daughter can help you.”

”Daughter?” asked Ginny, “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

The five Potters turned looking up the narrow aisle in between the floor-to-ceiling shelves that were full of small wand boxes. As they watched, a female figure stepped out of the shadow into the half light toward her beckoning father. A shaft of light from the skylight showed the form of a thirty-something year old blonde, pregnant woman.

Ginny gasped as she came fully into the light. “Luna, how can you be Ollivander’s daughter?” she asked.

“It’s a secret which I can’t tell without father’s permission,” Luna answered in a distracted tone.

While answering Ginny, Luna had turned her gaze from her old friends and down to the taller of the two boys. “I know you. You are James Sirius Potter. I changed you nappy once,” Luna said eying the boy for his reaction.

“And I know you too. I saw your and your husband’s picture on the back of the Care of Magical Creatures textbook at the store we bought my school books. You’re Loony Loony Luna Lovegood,” he defiantly answered.

“James, you apologize to Luna! She’s one my oldest and dearest friends,” Ginny spoke, aghast at her son’s cheek.

“You’re wrong. I was only ever Loony Luna Lovegood. Now, I’m Loony Luna Lovegood Ollivander Scamander. You may call me Luna or Miss Ollivander,” she answered, her eyes fixed on the small boy face sizing his personality up. He seemed to her to be a bit closer to Fred-and-George than Harry.

Luna’s response to his obvious challenge caused a large grin to appear upon James’ face. James seemed to warm to her openness and her lack of the usual adult judgments. “I’m here to choose a wand,” he said proudly, obviously showing off for his younger brother and sister.

“Oh no, you’re not! You are here to be chosen not to choose. The wand is the one who chooses not the wizard,” she corrected him as she walked behind the counter. As she looked up, it was obvious that her old friends were full of questions. However, today was James’ time not hers.

“James, turn your head to the left and stick out you left arm,” Luna instructed.

James started to protest, but thought better of it. He turned his head and extended his arm.

“Now, turn you head back to the right,” she added, “and stick you tongue out at your brother.” James eagerly obeyed this set of instructions sticking his tongue so far out it was a wonder it didn’t fall onto the floor.

Luna crouched and looked into James’ eyes. They were Ginny’s eyes. Luna nodded and disappeared back into the stacks. Ten minutes later, she returned with just two little wand boxes. She opened up the first box, placed it on the counter in front of the boy and said, “Yew and Norwegian Ridgeback heart string.” She motioned for James to remove the wand from its box and without any prompting he wildly waved the wand causing a flower-filled vase on the shelf behind Luna to explode. Daises, water and shattered ceramics crashed to the wooden floor.

James looked to his left to see the dreadlocked girl, whose own wand was being wrapped, giggling at the explosion. James’ face was growing redder by the second when Luna said, “Almost, but not quite.” The startled boy gladly placed the stick back into its box and stepped away from it.

Luna opened the lid of the second box and announced, “Yew and Hungarian Horntail heart string.” The boy looked at the wand, at Luna and finally at his mother. With care he lifted the wand out of its padded home and gripped it tightly. He seemed afraid to move his now wary hand.

Suddenly, Luna saw a smile on James face turn into a grin and finally a look of contentment. James Potter made the smallest wave of the wand and the vase and the flowers were back on the shelf whole.

“I think you’ve been chosen,” Luna said, smiling at the youth who had already turned to proudly show the wand off to his siblings.

Luna looked toward her adopted father. After he said goodbye to his other customers, he joined her and the Potters. Harry pulled out his purse to pay; Ollivander waved his hand in front of the money pouch. “Your money is not good here, Harry Potter,” he said. “As long as I or my daughter is alive, your descendants will not have to pay for our services.”

Harry started to argue, but Ginny took his hand and asked the old man, “Mr. Ollivander, how can Luna be your daughter?”

Ollivander smiled and said, “Sorry, family secret. A family secret that goes back twenty three hundred years.”

Ginny started to ask again, but she thought better.

Luna smiled. She had agreed to the ‘adoption’ a year after the final battle. Father Ollivander was certain that his days were numbered and he needed someone to pass his wand lore to. The two of them had travelled the world off and on for almost four years. During their travels, she made three great discoveries: an actual Blibbering Humdinger, an previously undiscovered type of Bowtruckle, and her future husband. In the intervening years, Ollivander had found a former Hufflepuff student named Wallace MacKenzie. Although her father would never admit it, it was now obvious to Luna that MacKenzie would be the next Ollivander. However, Mr. Ollivander insisted she run the store as Wallace perfects his wand crafting. And with her pregnancy, she was content as the clerk. Luna cleared her mind as it was oblivious Ginny wanted some explanation.

“Please come back at noon. With father’s approval, you will see something special here,” Luna looked at Mr. Ollivander who nodded his approval.

At Eleven fifty-five, the little Potter clan, now with a caged barn owl in a tow, joined George Weasley in Ollivanders store by the front window. At noon, Mr. Ollivander waved his wand and a bell tolled one clear low tone that resonated throughout the wand shop.

Luna took the black silken cover off of a large book that sat on an ornately carved oak pedestal. She solemnly folded the cover by hand and placed it on a small cherry wood table that stood next to the pedestal. As Luna was folding the cover, Mr. Ollivander turned the heavy parchment page and moved the red silk book mark into the middle of the page. The old man took a deep breathe and read aloud to the assembled, “Reginald Catermole, son of Alruss and Sian Cattermole of St. Agnes’ Watch near Blackpool.”

Luna saw Harry stiffen at the reading of the name. She knew the role that Harry had played in the escape of Mary Cattermole from the Ministry. She was suddenly worried that he might not see that he was a hero in this story. If he had just slunk out of the Ministry a whole family might be registered on these pages not just one man. Luna mentally followed along with the familiar story of how Reg and Mary had met. Harry, Hermione, and Ron’s brave and nearly unsuccessful escape attempt from the Ministry of Magic with all of the Muggle-born in tow. The story ended with Mary’s telling of her husband’s love and bravery. She had heard the stories a hundred times and yet every time she heard it Luna could still feel Reg’s hand gripping hers in the dark room awaiting their doom.

Ollivander finished reading Reg’s two pages and the sad bell tolled.

Luna stepped forward to the book. She pulled the wand from behind her left ear and waved it over the book. Its pages magically flipped toward the back of the book. When the movement stopped she took a deep breath and spoke aloud, “Fred Weasley, son of Arthur and Molly Weasley of The Burrow near Ottery St. Catchpole. Fred was a beater on the Gryffindor Championship Quidditch team, a founding member of Dumbledore’s Army and a hero of the battle of Hogwarts. Fred had a quick mind and a wit to match. Fred’s smile and daring spirit were infectious. No one could ever met Fred Weasley and not be affected by his adventurous spirit.” Luna stopped for a beat looking at George and Ginny.

George was looking over Luna’s shoulder at the picture of his brother and himself in their Quidditch gear light-heartedly shoving each other to the side of the photo. George had a look of hurt in his eyes and yet a quivering smile showed on his face. Ginny was dabbing her eyes with the same expression her brother was wearing.

“Fred and his twin brother George opened Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and threatened to revolutionize Diagon Alley with their unique style and uncommon business sense. However, when the Dark forces toppled the government Fred and George left behind their comfortable lives and business opportunities to become leaders of the opposition. At great personal risk, they used their underground broadcasts to disseminate the truth and gave encouragement to all in the anti-Voldemort forces.” Luna’s voice swelled in volume and emotion with the words she and her two fathers had written. As Luna took a breathe, she heard the soft sniffing sound come from Ginny who now had Harry’s arm wrapped around her shoulder.

Luna continued to read the two pages that summarized Fred’s shortened life. “When rumor of the final battle reached the twin brothers, unlike many others, they picked up their wands so they could be counted for good in the battle to defeat evil. Fred Weasley fought bravely until his untimely death in battle cut short a light and a laugh that should have nourished us all for years to come. Fred was and is mourned not only by his family but by almost everybody who ever knew him. We who have life and hope thank you Fred for you sacrifice,” Luna finished.

As Luna looked toward her adoptive father, he flicked his wand and the bell sadly tolled again. Ginny was now in tears in Harry’s arms. George hugged Luna, picked up his niece Lily squeezed her tightly, and kissed her on the forehead.

James and Albus stood on tiptoes and looked into the book at the picture of the Uncle they’d never meet. The eyes of the two boys moved from their crying mother to their Uncle George, who was regaining control of his emotions, and their sister who, overcome by the emotion of the others, was crying too. The pair looked at each other at a bit at a loss and finally decided to try and console their tearful mom by forming a group hug around her.

After Ginny had hugged her husband, children, and brother, Luna looked at her tearful friend and explained, “Every day at noon, we perform this little ceremony. We open up the book, turn the page and read a story. Each two pages tells the story of one of the people who either died at the Malfoy manor, somewhere else like Dumbledore, Moody, Madame Bones, Snape, Dobby the house-elf, and each of those who fell at Hogwarts. We cannot allow their sacrifice to be forgotten.”

Harry comforted his wife with a kiss on the forehead and a slight hug before he asked, “Where did you get this book from?”

Mr. Ollivander answered, “We wrote it. Luna and I took the stories of those who died at the manor. Mr. Lovegood gathered the life stories of those who had died elsewhere. He, Luna and I wrote up each story. I paid for the printing of four copies of the book.”

“One copy is here, the second copy is at the library in Hogwarts, the third is in the Minister of Magic’s office and the fourth copy is at the Quibbler with my birth father,” Luna explained.

George looked at the two Ollivanders recovering his composure and said “I’d like a copy of the book for my parents and another one for me. Could you arrange it? Send the bill to the shop.”

Harry pulled out his purse again and handed it over to Mr. Ollivander saying, “I also want a copy of the book and I want every family with someone in that book to have a copy of it, if they want one. I spent too much of my life not knowing the sacrifice my parents had made for me. I want their families to know about their sacrifices. Print them up, send the bill to me.”

“Harry, doing what you are asking could be quite expensive,” cautioned Ollivander.

“I inherited a fortune from my parents and another small one from Sirius. I can’t think of any more fitting way to spend it,” he responded.

Ginny kissed Harry; her eyes seemed to be swimming in pools of tears. However, her voice was filled with adoration, “After all of these years, you still can surprise me.” And she finished the sentence with a caress.

“It’s not just any woman who would allow their husband to bankrupt his family on a sentimental whim,” he whispered in response.

“You’re lucky, that I’m not just any woman,” she teased, as she lovingly gazed at him. James rolled his eyes at his parent’s tender moment, Lily put her hand in front of her face to hide her giggles and Albus mimed sticking his finger down his throat over the blatant mushiness of the moment.

A brunette woman with her arms full of packages and the face of a blonde boy appeared in the door of the wand shop. The bell tinkled as the ancient wooden door was opened. Luna turned to greet her new customers and to see which of her wands would chose this boy.