Luna drifted quietly down from the bed. Looking back at the mother and daughter still sleeping soundly on it, she let out a soft breath.
They had no idea they had just taken a turn at the edge of life and death.
Brushing back the golden strands that had fallen before her eyes, Luna gazed out the window. Under the gentle moonlight, the green grass covering the mountainside, washed clean by rain, swayed like aquatic weeds.
The howling wind and rustling grass blanketed the hilltop, yet created an atmosphere of utter stillness.
Luna walked over to the potted plant, dismantled her wand, and changed into jeans and a T-shirt.
"Dad, Dad—"
In the second-floor studio, the strange printer spat out color pages one after another amid the smell of ink. The clacking of its meshing mechanical parts was noisy, but after listening for too long, it became sleep-inducing.
Luna gently shook Mr. Lovegood's shoulder as he lay sprawled over his desk.
"What is it, Luna?"
Mr. Lovegood called his daughter's name before even opening his eyes. When he noticed what Luna was wearing, his silver-white eyes, so much like hers, widened slightly.
"You're going out?"
"I'm going to find Professor Breen," Luna said.
"Really?" Mr. Lovegood glanced at the sky outside. "Can't you write him a letter, Luna? By the time an owl delivers it, he should just be waking up, so he'll see it in time."
Luna said nothing, merely blinked at her father.
"Oh, it's urgent."
Mr. Lovegood immediately understood. He did not even ask what it was about.
With Luna's help, he pressed both hands against the desk and struggled to push himself upright. Staggering a few steps in front of the desk, he scratched at the white hair piled atop his head like weeds.
"Amosta Breen,