Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's note: J.K. Rowling has stated in an interview that Voldemort doesn't have any children. This story is an AU in which he has a child.

Chapter 1 - Stop The Press!

Dearest daughter,

The fact that you are reading this letter means that I have died before I had a chance of telling you something extremely important. I hope that the Fates will have mercy and allow me to be with you as you grow up. However, in case I'm not so fortunate, I'm writing this letter and trusting my beloved husband, Theodosius Lovegood, to keep it safe until your fifteenth birthday.

Please forgive me, dear Luna, for what I'm about to tell you. You will feel angry at first, but I beg you to read the letter to the end before judging me.

What I have to tell you is this: Theodosius Lovegood isn't your real father. That is, he is not your father in the flesh-and-blood meaning of the word, but he is a parent to you in a much more important sense. He is the father of your soul and spirit, the one who took care of you and gave you the love your real father never would have given you. Promise me you will always remember that.

Hesitant footsteps could be heard approaching the door to number four, Privet Drive. There were a few moments of silence, as if the person standing outside was unable to locate the doorbell. The truth was, actually, that the person standing outside the door had no idea how to use a doorbell. After a while he hesitantly knocked on the door.

Petunia Dursley was the one who opened the door. When she saw who was standing outside she just froze, her face pale, with an expression of fear mixed with anger. Her husband, who was watching her from the dining room, saw that something was wrong and rushed to her side.

Seeing who was standing outside, Vernon understood his wife's reaction. One of those four freaks from Potter's world who had had the nerve of threatening them at King's Cross station was now standing before their front door, smiling politely. That was not the first time Vernon and Petunia had met him: he was the one who had destroyed their fireplace two years before, telling them some bloody nonsense about connecting their house to a network.

Vernon's blood began to boil, but he had learned enough about the harm those freaks could do to decent people. Restraining himself, he just asked through gritted teeth:

"Yes?"

"Good afternoon, Mr Dursley," Arthur Weasley said in a pleasant voice. "I would like a word with Harry, if you don't mind."

Vernon did mind, but he knew he had no choice. He had to allow this person to talk to Potter, but he'd be damned if he was going to invite him to come inside. Turning his back to Mr Weasley, Vernon yelled:

"Potter! You have a visitor!"

Harry Potter heard the sound of the doorbell from downstairs, but didn't pay any attention to it. He wasn't taking much notice of what was happening around him since he had returned from Hogwarts to the Dursleys' home. Nothing could make him feel better, but nothing could possibly make him feel worse either.

The Dursleys, scared of Mad Eye Moody and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix who had threatened them at King's Cross station, were more or less leaving Harry alone. That suited him. He would spend almost all the time in his room, holding an open schoolbook in his hands but not really reading it. Ron, Hermione and Hagrid were sending him letters full of concern, begging him to write back. He didn't; he would merely glance at the letters and add them to a pile beside his bed. He pretended not to care about them, though a very small part of him admitted he would be devastated if the letters stopped arriving.

Hearing uncle Vernon calling him, Harry reached for his wand and held it firmly. He didn't exactly believe a Death Eater would just knock on the door and ask to see him, but he didn't want to take any chances. He opened the door and softly, on the tips of his toes, walked to the top of the stairs.

Harry took a cautious look downstairs and was relieved to see Arthur Weasley standing outside. He rushed down the stairs and past his angry-looking uncle, who didn't move away - he obviously wanted to hear what they were going to talk about.

Mr Weasley had a solemn look on his face.

"Hello, Harry. Er... I have to ask you to come to the Ministry with me." He was speaking slowly, carefully choosing his words. "There is a legal matter that has to be solved."

"The Ministry?" Harry said in an irritated voice. "Can't they leave me alone? What are they accusing me of this time?"

"No, Harry, it's not that," Mr Weasley said and sighed. "It's about Sirius's will."

I was nineteen years old when I met your flesh-and-blood father. It happened on a summer day, at the seaside, and it seemed to me at the time to be a chance meeting. Looking back at it now I know it couldn't have been. I'm sure he had chosen me beforehand, probably from after considering many young women from pureblood families. My ancestors are known to be pureblood at least as far as six centuries ago, and I was healthy enough for his purpose, and young enough to be extremely naive.

You see, dear Luna, I was a very pretty girl, and several man had been hopelessly in love with me by that time. I simply assumed, with an arrogance many handsome people have, that that was what my life would always be like and that I deserved it. But He - I will not call him by his name yet - He didn't seem to be so very love-struck. He courted me in a polite way, but seemed to be cold and distant. I felt offended by that, and wanted to conquer him like I did the others. How arrogant and foolish of me!

Luna Lovegood sat at a desk in the part of her home she and her father called "the office". She was surrounded by pieces of parchment containing short notes such as Make appointment for interview with goblin guerrilla leader! and Minister Fudge has a Siamese twin? Investigate! She had a quill in her hand but she wasn't writing - just playing with it absentmindedly. Her large eyes were surrounded by dark circles: she had probably lost a lot of sleep lately, and had possibly been crying, too.

Her hand was resting on a piece of parchment that looked older than the others. The text began with the words Dearest daughter. The ink was a bit smudged at the sides of the parchment, showing that it had been held in someone's hands and read many times.

At the opposite side of the office a small printing-press was turning by itself. Little elves wearing green robes were moving swiftly, feeding pieces of paper into the press and folding the newspaper pages that came out of it.

Suddenly Luna's father rushed into the office and cried:

"Stop the press!"

One of the elves raised his hand and the press stopped turning.

"What is it, Dad?" Luna asked softly, folding the old piece of parchment and putting it away into her robe pocket. The elves looked at Mr Lovegood in expectation.

"I just received a sensational letter," Luna's father said in a very excited voice. "It's from an old lady in Basingstoke. She says Merlin is alive! She saw him buying Brussels sprouts at the market in Basingstoke."

"Wonderful!" Luna said and handed her father an empty piece of parchment and her quill. The elves gathered around the desk, and Luna's father started thinking aloud.

"This needs a good title. Let's see... Merlin Seen Alive In Brussels... Wait, that's not right... Merlin Seen Alive In Basingstoke?"

"Merlin Spotted Shopping At The Market?" Luna suggested.

"Merlin Alive And On A Healthy Diet?" said an elf. Soon they were all deeply immersed in the new article and Luna was able to take the letter she had been reading off her mind. She was grateful for that, especially because she was doing something to help her Dad - the only real Dad for her.