Luna Lovegood

I like Dean's idea! Ask me a question, and I'll tell you no lies!

It was a slow afternoon in the wand shop today, but that's only to be expected in March. Despite the name, I've always thought March was a slow month, especially at the end.

I had a lot of time to sit and think, and when I got tired of thinking I looked through the wands and tried to imagine who would buy them. Some of them are quite old, you know. They must be quite longing for owners. I simply couldn't resist, I did a few spells with the very oldest ones, just so they wouldn't feel too lonely or cross or neglected. I think they appreciated it, at least some of them. Unfortunately, I'm quite certain some of them disliked me very much -- those are the ones that are surely waiting for a gruff old man with a large black beard. Actually, I thought I saw him walk by, but when I ran outside to find him he'd already got lost in the crowd.

If I ever made a wand, I don't think I could put it in a box to wait. I'd have to rush out and find its owner immediately, and give it away if they wouldn't buy it. Pretty soon I'd go out of business and have to sell flowers on the street corner, until I'd scrimped and saved enough to buy the material to make my greatest wand ever. I'd give it to a world famous duelist. Then I'd probably marry her brother and have quintuplets, two boys and three girls, and one of them would grow up to discover the best way to cook scrambled eggs, or perhaps she'd have to settle for curing the common cold because my father makes pretty good scrambled eggs now that I think about it.

That's what I thought about.

I wonder if I could make a wand.

Today I attended an underwater funeral. Jonathan's mother was killed in a feud, that's why she never came back for Jonathan. And after a great deal of negotiation (it seemed much more complicated than it needed to be, but I suppose that's far better than less, because then you don't know exactly what's missing until the herd of giant lemmings run over you and mess up all your careful but uncomplicated plans -- it can happen!) but as I was saying, after negotiation, I was asked to bring him to see his mother released into the deep. It was very sad. We both wore black but it didn't seem to be mandatory, quite the opposite in fact. I cried, but you couldn't tell underwater. And then I gave Jonathan to his father, who said something incomprehensible and gave me a very large pink pearl.

I sang a song of farewell that Jonathan and his father both seemed to like, and then I left. I only wish I'd thought to bring my harmonica. Then I could have played accompaniment as well, between the verses.

I suppose going to the ministry was the right thing to do after all.

I'll miss him.

I've never been this confused about the right thing to do in my life. Usually it's so much easier to tell, but when you find a baby, even if it's a merbaby, and he's crying, it's natural to pick him up and comfort him, isn't it?

And if no one seems to be taking care of him, it's natural to take him along and try to find his parents, isn't it?

I talked to a kelpie of my acquaintance, who's been very helpful in the past, and a couple of hippocampi who didn't have much to say, but when I finally found a merman, he seemed hostile and not very communicative, unless you count a spear pointed at one's heart as communicative.

It does count, doesn't it? It's just not very helpful.

But to return to the subject at hand, I don't think any of that was the wrong thing to do. But I can't stop thinking that perhaps after I failed to find his parents I should have put him back where I found him instead of bringing him home with me. I don't think living in a fish tank is very good for him. Especially since I had to put salt in to make it salt water. That's not very natural, even if it was labelled sea salt. And after all, he's not really mine. It would be wrong to keep him.

But then I start thinking about human babies that are abandoned on the hillside to die or be raised by wolves, and how merpeople can be so violent. I wouldn't want poor Jonathan (I named him Jonathan, just for now) to die. He laughs when I tickle him!

I just don't know what to do.

I thought the advertisement for Terror Tours was well placed in the Daily Prophet today. I'm pleased.

Also, Ron, I did make them myself.

Also, who is doctor who is doctor who?

I've been thinking about wolfsbane a lot, because I knew Professor Lupin too, and he was the only Defence professor I had who really listened to me some of the time. I'm sorry that I didn't notice he was a werewolf earlier, but he probably couldn't have done that at all without wolfsbane.

But that's not what I wanted to talk about, except in passing, because I've been thinking about something else, something that no one else has mentioned: there's something that the ministry could give away that would be almost as important as wolfsbane. Full length mirrors!

Not a lot of people know about the grumpygows, but they can be a real threat. They sit on your shoulder and make you look grumpy, and since grumpiness is contagious, this makes everyone around you grumpier. And you too, once all that grumpiness gets reflected back at you. Just one grumpygow can lower the mood in an entire building.

And full length mirrors are the easiest way to get rid of them. Grumpygows don't like to be looked at in mirrors, but if you just look at your face, they'll wrap themselves around your stomach and grumble, but they won't go away. A full length mirror is the only way to get rid of them. All you have to do is look at your whole self and make sure you don't look grumpy anywhere. Just a small investment in full length mirrors could be a giant boon to the emotional health of the entire wizarding world!

And full length mirrors placed correctly are good for feng shui as well.

I can't give away mirrors to everyone, but if anyone needs a full length mirror I do have one extra one that I could give away to a good home.


Speaking of giving things away, my father gave me two tickets to a muggle art exhibition. He got them because everyone said the eyes in the painting follow you all around the room, but it wasn't magic (or even technology) at all. Still, I'm going to go to see what it is. Would anyone like the other one?

What's black and white and sweet, and very noisy?

I see dragons almost every day, sometimes twice. I find it quite pleasant, actually; they certainly keep me on my toes!