Matryoshka Vignettes
Father Forgive Me
By Jeconais
Luna Lovegood - Fri, August 14th 1998, 3:58pm
It was done.
She had done it.
And now she didn’t know what to do. She felt like she had betrayed him, like she had ignored everything he had ever told her. And she hated the feeling.
It was gnawing inside her like a Horklump.
She sat back and raised her knees, hugging herself tightly. She’d never rebelled before, and never wanted to again, but sometimes, you just had to.
She hoped he would understand that she didn’t have a choice. And while she hadn’t believed it earlier, she now knew that there were some things that were more important, that doing what was right, over what was easy or expected sometimes had to be done.
She just hoped that the Quibbler’s name wouldn’t be dragged down because of it. But she wouldn’t have been able to face her… her…
She shuddered, she couldn’t think of what she was going to say. What she had done was tainting her investigative mind on top of filling her with guilt.
She was losing her perspicacity!
It had all started this morning. Like most mornings, she had woken up first and climbed out of bed. Yesterday, she had tried getting out of bed before waking up, to be different, but that had only ended with a sore toe, so today she had gone back to normal.
She’d kissed Daddy good morning on the cheek and sat down for a lovely breakfast.
Everyone knew that breakfast was the most important meal of the day. And the Lovegood house was no different. She started with a prawn cocktail, and followed that up with a plateful of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, and finished with some apple pie and marmalade.
She’d walked to work, mainly because she had yet to find any fairies willing to keep her slim and so needed the exercise.
She’d arrived at her desk, and after checking it for explosive devices, chocolate, and the lead singer from the Weird Sisters, she’d settled down and started to work.
The first article for the day was easy. It was by far the most popular thing in the paper at the moment — her articles on where Harry Potter was at the time.
Over the past few weeks, after her revelations of him performing for the crows in Vegas, he had been scuba diving for pirate treasure in the Atlantic, performing as a Mime Artist in Paris, and working as a Sushi chef in India.
Today, she had decided, he would be wrestling Alligators in China, as part of their regime’s push to ensure the purity of the Chinese language.
And then her life had fallen straight through the ceiling.
Ernie had Floo’d her.
"Hi Ernie," she’d said brightly. "Are you calling to confess that the Ministry is secretly run by a super-intelligent chimp?"
"Well, Rufus might look like a chimp, but he’s not super-intelligent," Ernie replied dryly. "Look, I’ve just heard something I thought you might want to know about."
"That Government is finally going to give a tax break to drunken mongoose handlers?"
"That they have indicted Daphne Greengrass on charges of murder after her confession at Harry’s funeral and asked every country with an extradition treaty to find her for them."
Luna gaped at him, in a way she felt was particularly effective, and stored the look for future use.
"And," Ernie continued, "they are placing a new law in front of Wizengamot to seize the assets of convicted murderers."
Luna gasped and nodded slowly. "Thanks," she said, closing the Floo automatically.
This was terrible; it was obviously a direct attack at Daphne, and an attempt to seize their assets. It was horrible.
Almost in a daze, she sat down and picked up her quill, not even trying it for taste.
Wizengamot Prepares Direct Attack on Harry Potter’s Girlfriend
Scrimgeour goes after grieving partner
Today, the Minster for Magic has gone too far. It is not enough that the Ministry stood in the way of Harry Potter when he was trying to defeat Voldemort, today they have gone a step further and indicted Daphne Greengrass on charges of murder.
Those of us lucky enough to be present at the funeral of the Boy-Who-Lived will remember Daphne Greengrass’ startling revelations of her relationship with Harry Potter, and that during the final battle, where Harry lost his life, she, in an act of pure self-defence, defended herself against three Death Eaters.
The Ministry has now requested international aid in tracking her down, so that she can be tried for their murders.
With their complete disregard for the basic tenets of self-defence, they have instigated an international man-hunt for a heroine.
And if this was not enough of an insult to everything Harry Potter stood for, a new law has been placed in front of the Wizengamot, clearly aimed at reducing Miss Greengrass to a pauper.
The law, which would seize the assets of convicted criminals, is aimed at the combined Greengrass and Potter fortune, of which Daphne is the only living heir.
She paused for a second, and threw some Floo powder into the fire. "Gringotts," she called.
"Oh, it’s you," a goblin sighed. "No, we are not keeping Gnomes enslaved in our dungeons."
"It’s not that," Luna said directly. "Did you know that the Ministry is enacting a new law which will enable them to seize the assets of convicted criminals?"
"No," the goblin said slowly. "I didn’t."
"How will that affect the famed neutrality of Gringotts? Will you follow the law if your clients’ accounts are held in another country?"
The goblin’s expression changed, and he sat up formally. "Until we have seen this law in full, we can not comment on the specifics."
"Can I have a quote for an article decrying this?"
"The goblins are very wary about any law that touches on the neutrality of the goblins, and if the law is found to be illegal by the international community, the goblins would not comply with it."
Luna raised her eyebrows. "That’s far more decisive than I hoped for," she pointed out softly.
The goblin smiled slightly. "I heard about Daphne Greengrass a few minutes ago," he said. "I came to the same conclusion you have."
"Thank you," Luna said, and closed the Floo, returning to her article.
When asked for a quote, Clawbeak, the head of Public Relations for Gringotts, said:
’The goblins are very wary about any law that touches on the neutrality of the goblins, and if the law is found to be illegal by the international community, the goblins would not comply with it.’
A warning that the Wizengamot must take seriously.
This witch hunt for Harry Potter’s love could lead to international isolation, at a time where we are just regaining the trust of our international colleagues.
We have suffered from the abject incompetence and obstructionary decisions from the Ministry of Magic for years, and if it hadn’t been for the supreme sacrifice of Harry Potter, we would still be living in terror from Voldemort.
Thanks to people who stood up for what we believe in, these cowards who now attack the survivor can only do so because of the heroic actions of the people they persecute.
It is time for the people of Britain to stand up, as one, and deliver a rebuke to the Wizengamot and to the Minister of Magic, and demand that the person who lost everything be allowed to live in peace, and that this ridiculous charge be dropped immediately.
The Minister has gone too far and needs to be stopped, now!
Luna Lovegood
She signed the article, and placed it in the filing cabinet, in the front page place, relegating the news of the International Conference of Giants Who Love Fairies to the second page.
She managed to get it in a few minutes before the deadline, and it was only as the cabinet glowed and the paper was created and Owled out that she had realised what she had done.
How she had gone against everything she believed in.
"Luna?"
She couldn’t look up. "Yes, Daddy?" she whispered, tears starting to run down her face.
"What is this?"
"I’m sorry," she cried. "I had to do it, I couldn’t let this go. I know it was factual, that it didn’t mention that Rufus might be a monkey, and everything else you taught me to ignore, but I couldn’t let them do it. I needed to be taken seriously by everyone for a change. Normally when we write, they laugh at us because we tell them the truth, but this time I had to play their games and leave out the truth.
"I’m sorry Daddy, I didn’t mean to drag the Quibbler’s good name through the mud, but I had to do it for Harry and Daphne."
A second later she felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around her. She blinked and looked up.
"I am so proud of you," her father said softly.
"You are?" she sniffed doubtfully.
He nodded, smiling warmly. "It is exactly something your mother would have done."
"Really?"
"Oh yes, if she believed in something, she would fight on their level, and put in a way they could understand."
"But it was logical," she mumbled. "And logic is the tool of Beelzebob."
"Ahh, yes, about that," her father said uncomfortably. "I’ve been doing some research, and the Prophet is not worshipping him."
"They’re not?" she asked, shocked.
He shook his head. "It turns out that people actually like reading their stories."
"But their stories are more fabricated than ours are!"
"I know, I know. But people believe them anyway."
"So you’re not mad?" Luna asked warily.
"Not at all," he replied. "We’ll deal with the fallout together, and we’ll give it a try."
"Give what a try?"
"Writing like they do for a bit. It’s time the Quibbler stood for something, and getting rid of the current Wizengamot is as good a scheme as anything. I was going to suggest we stood for repealing some of the Anti-Werewolf laws, but this is even better."
"Really?"
Her father nodded and hugged her again.
She started to relax as the Horklump left her stomach, when an owl flew in through the window.
"Hedwig," she gasped. She unwrapped the letter quickly, and thanked the owl before she flew off.
Luna,
We need to talk.
Bring your quill.
D.
She looked at her father. "It’s from Daphne," she whispered, picking up the Portkey that was with the letter.
"Then you’d better take your best quill and go do an interview. We’ll scoop the Prophet and increase our circulation!"
She giggled.
"And I’ll start asking the Wizengamot why they are assisting in this persecution!"
"Okay Daddy," she smiled. "Thank you."
He just smiled and hugged her again, and everything was all right. Except the mystery of who kept eating her oranges. Maybe she’d put some dye inside one to see if she could find the culprit.