"Morning of the full moon, five forty-five a.m. Potion resembles a cup of strong loose-leaf tea. Faint floral odor.

Other effects: there are no birds singing in range of our house. The silence is eerie. Luna hates the potion, says the smell turns her stomach. I'm afraid. What if this is poison? I could kill Luna on the strength of a gut feeling.

I've prepared an emetic dose. If Luna has a bad effect, I will give her the dose, she'll vomit the potion, and we'll go to St. Mungo's as fast as possible.

What if they put me on trial for child abuse?

Maybe I will deserve it. But I want to see this through. If I can save Luna, it will be worthwhile. Someday she'll be an old woman, with a rich life behind her, and she'll smile at the memory of the twenty-seven months when she was a werewolf. Just a memory.

Noon. I'll explain to Luna the goal of my experiment. If she doesn't agree, I'll dilute the magic away with cloudweed and salt until it's just a messy tea, and dispose of it safely.

One thirty p.m. We just had lunch. Luna agreed to try the potion. She insisted on using the cellar, for safety. I have the emetic ready. I'm so proud of her, my brave girl.

Three-thirty p.m. We'll have tea. Weather remains cold and overcast; still no birdsong. Check the notes from Godric's Hollow again. Luna's dusting the nice jasperware. Xeno's upstairs. We're going to the cellar.

The words stopped. Luna Lovegood took a breath and closed the notebook in her hands. "My mother's notes end there," she said.

She was talking to Ginny Weasley; they were sitting close together, knee to knee, in a westward alcove in Hogwarts Castle.

Let's back up.

It was the morning of July 2nd, 1997. Less than three days ago, Hogwarts had been attacked by Death Eaters, and Headmaster Dumbledore had been murdered. Today the Hogwarts Express would take the students home, or at least back to London. Neither girl had been able to sleep, and the secure, safe routines of Hogwarts had been reduced to shambles. So, around midnight, Ginny had found Luna—or rather, Luna waited in the Portrait Hall until Ginny left the Gryffindor common room. Luna had one blanket around her shoulders, another folded on her knees. As she handed that second blanket to Ginny, a weathered, overstuffed little notebook came into sight in Luna's other hand.

Ginny didn't ask how Luna knew to wait for her—Luna had her ways of knowing these things. Instead, Ginny asked, "What's that notebook?"

"It was my mother's," Luna replied. In response to Ginny's confused look, Luna added, "It's a long story, but I think you'll be interested. Let's go to the garden window."

Equidistant between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw common rooms was a window alcove that looked west, with a hanging lamp. This little spot was Ginny and Luna's particular retreat during school days, when things were normal.

As she clambered into her spot, Ginny said to Luna, "It's weird, being here in the middle of the night. Can't see the garden at all." The stained glass showed a symmetrical garden, and it gleamed in afternoon light. The fountain seemed to bubble, the hares seemed ready to leap, the flowers appeared more than alive. But now it was utterly black.

Luna still looked at the window as if she could see through it, to the forest and mountains beyond.

"You alright?" Ginny asked her. "You're awful quiet."

A sigh, and Luna turned to her. "I'm just thinking a lot. And I'm afraid. Afraid of what I'm going to tell you."

Ginny stared at her a moment, then put a hand on hers. "Luna, you can tell me anything. Or, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"It's important," Luna said. "It has to do with your brother…"

"Which one?" Ginny asked, half-automatically.

"Bill."

Ginny took a breath. "You don't have to worry. After Greyback's attack he mostly slept it off… he's been transferred to St. Mungo's. The Healers say he's doing well. I got an owl just a few hours ago."

"He's not going to be the same," Luna said. "I don't know what's going to happen to him—"

"No one does."

"But I might be able to help." Ginny turned to her in surprise. "There are things my dad and I know, and I've never told anyone in my life, but you're my best friend. I want you to know. I don't even know how to say…" Luna looked down at the notebook in her lap, and ran a hand over its cover, "… so I thought my mum could help." She closed her eyes. "Please don't interrupt me because I'm really scared to say this, so I'll just start now and then I'll answer any questions you have. When I'm finished."

Ginny agreed, now confused but determined—she would honor Luna's courage.

Luna opened the notebook fourteen pages from the last entry, and began to read. Pandora Lovegood had started these entries by describing her daughter's curse, how she had been taken by Fenrir Greyback and recovered, but was now a werewolf. A summary of the visit to Godric's Hollow, the notes from Ms. Bagshot's interview, and Pandora's idea that she could heal Luna by a maternal sacrifice. The days ticked down to the full moon and the potion developed, until the last entry.

By now the window was a bit illuminated again; the sun was coming up on the other side of the castle, the sky was remembering what brightness was. Luna closed the book and finally dared to look at Ginny. Ginny's brown eyes were wide, and her hands were gripping the blanket tightly.

"Ginny, please talk to me, I need to know what you think," Luna said, and her voice cracked a little.

"I'm just… I can't believe… you've talked about your mother, but I didn't realize…" Ginny gave her head a little shake. Then in a firmer voice, she took Luna by the hand. "Luna, you've got nothing to be afraid of. You're my friend, like it or not."

A smile broke over Luna's face, and she even laughed a little. Then she started to shiver uncontrollably, and pulled herself deeper into her blanket. Ginny tried to offer her own blanket, but Luna shook her head. Ginny moved so that she and Luna were sitting shoulder to shoulder. "That's a little warmer," said Ginny.

"I don't know why I started shivering like that," Luna said, "it's a fascinating physiological response."

"It's hard to share secrets. Especially one like… that. I mean, I used to hate werewolves too, until I learned about Professor Lupin, and I'm so ashamed of that now. I had no idea that you were…" she glanced over. "Are…?"

Luna was looking at her knees. "My mother died to cure me. I've never turned into a wolf since. But I can't say that I'm not a werewolf."

She paused. Ginny said, "Observe that I'm not running away, screaming."

That got a smile out of her. Luna went on, "I can't wear silver jewelry. Wolfsbane gives me a rash. When it's a full moon, I can smell, see, and hear better, and I feel too restless to sleep. Sometimes I just sit up and read all night—sometimes I have to get out of the castle and walk around outside, in the night air."

"You've never gotten caught?"

"Not yet." Luna shrugged.

"Do you go to the Forest?"

"Sometimes. It's not like animals hurt me—I think that when the thestrals see me, they see a creature like them."

"You've always been able to see thestrals…" Ginny's voice trailed off. She looked sidelong at Luna, who met her eye evenly. Ginny was aware of a horrible question, the very worst thing to ask, which was exactly why she had an urge to ask it—

How exactly had Pandora Lovegood died?

Ginny swallowed the question down and the moment passed. Luna spoke as if there had been no interruption, "Then again, in the Forest, maybe I naturally avoid the places that are really dangerous. Instinct, you know. All that I meant to say—oh, I could have said this from the start, I could have said it simpler—"

"Don't worry about it," said Ginny, who was used to Luna's digressions.

"There's a gray space between human and werewolf. It's not always so clear-cut as wizards think. I live in that space, and now, your brother Bill does, too. You've been good to me—you and Ron, and I don't know Bill, but I want to help him because he's part of your family."

Haltingly, Ginny asked, "Who else knows about this?"

"My father. Dumbledore knew—Mum wrote to him. Professor Flitwick and Madame Pomfrey. Healer Patil, at St. Mungo's. My grandfather knows… or knew, I guess … and some of my mother's friends."

"Is that all?"

"Well, the records are there for anyone who wants to look it up. I was admitted to St. Mungo's with a werewolf bite. I stopped transforming at age nine, and it's at ten that you're supposed to put your name down for the Werewolf Registry. I didn't. If anyone checked the records, they'd see, but the Ministry's bureaucracy is deliberately meant to make people too tired to look."

Ginny sat back and shook her head. "I just have a hard time getting this square. You always talk about the truth, the truth is sacred, it's the most important thing to find, and once found, we have a duty to share it. But you… you have the cure for lycanthropy. You know. There are wizards and witches who would do anything to learn that, and you're keeping it secret."

"You're an exception," Luna said. "And I ask that you keep it quiet. Can Bill keep a secret?"

"Yes."

A bird began to sing outside, and Luna turned towards the window, as if that birdsong was the most fascinating noise in the world. She didn't speak. After awhile, Ginny felt compelled to break the silence.

"When I was a kid, I worked it all out real carefully, which of my brothers I can trust to do what. I needed to know who can keep a secret. Bill's good with secrets, but Charlie will slip up unless you force him to make a pinky promise. The twins might go either way—depends on what they think will be funny."

If Luna noticed that Ginny had not mentioned her third brother, she didn't bring it up. "And Ron?"

"Yes. He keeps secrets." Ginny rubbed at her eyes. "It was so important to me, keeping track of my brothers and how much each one could be a friend. I used to think about that girl who lived across the field in the rook-shaped house and wonder, we live so close by, why won't she be my friend?"

"I'm sorry."

"Well, it's fine now," Her voice was a bit gruff.

Luna pulled her blanket tighter around her. "You said I know the cure for lycanthropy, but that's not precisely true. I'm not cured. I just don't change. And that's enough for me to live in the world, that's what my mum wanted. But it cost her life. As it says in her notes—she didn't want it to come to that. And you may notice, the potion-making was a rather improvised method. Hardly something a laboratory can reproduce."

Despite herself, Ginny smiled.

"I witnessed the spell, I was part of it. The magic lives in me just like the werewolf does. I know, but how can I ask this of anyone else? To even experiment." She leaned her head against the glass of the window. "It's horrible, like a deal you'd make at a crossroads. The good news, you get your wish, you get your future. The bad news, the person who loved you enough to die for you…" she didn't finish.

Ginny didn't know what to say. She leaned her head on Luna's shoulder—it was still too cold to stretch out an arm from the blanket. Now the stained glass window was clearly visible—the sun was up.

"Probably they're setting out breakfast downstairs," said Ginny. "Want to head down?"

"I'll have to put the notebook back first," said Luna. "Just to keep it safe."

"Sure. God, I could murder a cuppa."

"There's no real answer, Ginny."

"Come again?"

"There's no answer I can offer. I'm sort of cured, and Mum's dead, and sometimes I wish things were different. I don't know what it means, and I can't make up a meaning. I still feel very sad about it sometimes. But right now, my experience is a little useful. Your family is entering a gray area, and I can help you." She turned and faced her friend.

Ginny slipped her hand into Luna's. "I'm glad to have your help. I'm glad you're my friend, and I'm honored that you trust me. Let's get breakfast." Then Ginny slid out of the alcove, and Luna was pulled along after her.

"The garden looks nice in the morning," Luna pointed out, lingering a moment.

"Yeah. Different light, different colors," Ginny agreed. Hanging out with Luna for a few years had a funny way of rubbing off on you.

They headed towards Ravenclaw Tower. Ginny said, "When we get around to our world tour, and you conduct your magizoological research, you'll have a bit of an edge, if the Forest is anything to go by."

"I'll only find out once I'm gone," Luna replied absently.

"That sounds like a song lyric," said Ginny as they reached the common room door. "I'll sit out here and compose the rest, and then we'll send an owl to the Weird Sisters and make our fortune." She grinned and gave Luna a wink.

Luna wasn't sure if Ginny was telling the truth—she suspected that Ginny wrote occasional poetry, but the redhead had not yet admitted to it. At any rate, Luna returned the smile before entering her common room.

As she passed through the door, Luna's mind began to spiral into different directions. She had just shared a profound, dangerous secret, and Ginny still seemed to be her friend. No, was—Luna was getting better at trusting the good intentions of people around. Ginny had said she was still Luna's friend, and Ginny's word was as good as gold, as sure as sunlight.

But the future, though. There might be a consequence, a reverberation, a ripple down the line, set into motion by telling the truth. Well, no use worrying about it today.

Another part of Luna's mind observed the state of the Ravenclaw common room, already crowded at this dismal hour. Students were milling about, either talking in threes and fours, or else thumbing through the old books that were in the House collection. Luna knew just what they were after—they were hunting a story, a poem, an aphorism that would help them make sense of this world. Luna was familiar with the feeling, and wished her Housemates well.

Someone had opened a window to let a little freshness into the air. The mountains looked beautiful today, and the moon was visible, just sinking into the west. Years and years ago, Pandora-her-mother had looked at this view, and been comforted by it. Luna pressed the notebook to her heart as she climbed the stairwell. Another part of her mind began to think that strong tea sounded excellent, perhaps with porridge and jam.

Luna's trunk was nearly all packed. She knelt down beside it. Before she put away Pandora's journal, she ran her fingers one last time over the cover. The paper had a marbled pattern on it, faded a little now. Luna tucked it back into its place, away from the sunlight—sunlight had a terrible way of destroying paper.

The sun—the morning—the new day. Luna looked up, so the sunbeam filled her vision. Sunlight reflected on the moon, reflected in her eyes. A new day. A day to go home. A day to be with Ginny. A day to meet with gratitude. Pandora's gift, this day, the present.

"Thanks, Mum," Luna whispered. Then the moment passed and she got to her feet, to meet Ginny and get breakfast.

A/N: Thank you for reading!