My mother went through surgery and she's already back home. Thank you for the people that reached out in Instagram. She's completely fine and thanking all of you that were concerned.

This chapter is a bit sad and pretty much my trauma dump. I hope you all like it, but there's a little fluffly and happy moment at the end to balance it out. It's not long, but it's a nice break from all the political plot points. There's a beautiful song that helped me write Luna's letter here, so there you have it!

LEAVE COMMENTS!

TW: Implied addiction and suicidal thoughts (I mean, it is Lyall, after all)

To my dearest daughter and light of my life,

I'm not good with words and I have always thought writing was a waste of time, but now I wish I had paid more attention to when my father would read to me in the sitting room before going to sleep in the winter. Perhaps then I would've known more words to tell you how sorry I am besides the ones that I already written here.

Baby, please, forgive me. I don't remember much, but I remember that I scared you and I'll never forgive myself for that.

Whatever it was that happened, it was never meant for your eyes or your mind. My failings are not your fault. I could've been in a much worse situation, I could've been in the rock bottom, but I was barely falling apart yet. I'm still holding on – even then I scared you. Daddy will never forgive himself for that.

I love you. I love you, baby, and people that love you shouldn't scare you. I'm sorry. Please, baby, come home during Christmas so we can talk. Mummy will be here and Nain as well, wouldn't that be nice? Just us again, like the old times.

Lady, this isn't your fault. None of this was caused by you, you can't cure me. Only I can cure myself, but it's hard and it's lonely. I want you back here, baby. That's all I want.

I'm doing better. I'll get even better when I see you again.

I love you.

I'm sorry.

Please, come home.

Daddy.

Luna stared at the letter with the feeling that her lunch was back in her throat, and she couldn't seem to swallow it down. She tried her best not to throw it up, but her fever didn't make the situation any better, but the full moon was too close. Her stomach seemed to be churning and tugging at any movement she made, so she lied in the Hospital Wing bed without moving an inch.

"I told you that you shouldn't have read it, I could've read it out loud for you," Regulus said, closing his book slowly and putting it on his legs.

The Hospital Wing was mostly empty if not for a first-year Slytherin that had a panic attack half-an-hour before, he had been told to sleep a bit before going back to classes since they didn't know what had triggered it. It was cold, even though the fireplace was lit and burning without stop, but perhaps it was just Luna's health declining again.

"I think I'll get a migraine," she admitted in a low voice, but it came hoarse and weak.

"Try to sleep a bit, Luna," he said, reaching forward to push her hair away from her face. "Slughorn won't mind me missing classes to stay with you. You know how much he loves me."

"You should go to class," she whispered, folding the letter and giving it to him. He took it and put it on the table beside the bed. "Slughorn might love me as well, but he does grimace when I make you late."

Regulus rolled his eyes slightly.

She closed her eyes, feeling the light of the sun coming through the Hospital Wing's windows was making the pain behind her eyes grow. She also pulled the covers closer to her body, covering herself up to her neck.

"He'll invite you to be part of the Slughorn Club," he said, voice lowering to not make her pain worse.

"Just because he invited you, it doesn't mean that he'll invite me, too, Reggie," Luna said, opening her eyes to look at him. "I might be your girlfriend, but that doesn't make us the same person. You're well aware that we don't go around the same social circles." She sighed.

"I don't see why he wouldn't invite you, seeing that you're one of the best Potion students in our year, and the best in your House," Regulus said, frowning at her clear uncomfortableness. It was more than just pain – it was the letter from her father, which she clearly didn't want to talk about. "I'm sorry about whatever you read; it seems that it made you very upset."

"Da –," she stopped, pressing her lips together. "My father wants me to go home during the Holidays, but I don't want to see him, but if I go home at all, my mother will make me go, if not my father, for my grandmother. I love Nain, I really do, but this is... too much for me right now." She gave a bitter chuckle to continue. "Besides, a cousin that I really don't like is spending some time with my mother, so either house will be shit to stay at."

Regulus raised his eyebrows.

"You never mentioned any cousins," he said.

She gave a little shrug. "There's not much to say. We weren't close at all," she explained. "Her mother and mine are sisters, but they weren't close either, especially after my aunt married a man that my mother doesn't like. But now my sister got pregnant and her boyfriend sort of... ran away."

"He abandoned her?" Regulus asked, eyes widening.

Luna hummed in agreement.

"I might not like Leticia, but I do believe that nobody deserves that," Luna said. She didn't move her head with nodding, but her eyes fluttered closed for a moment. She opened them again, looking more and more exhausted. "There's still a couple of months to go and she has been living my grandparents for a while. Now, Leticia will live with my Mum while we're at school, at least until the baby gets here."

Regulus grumbled something under his breath.

"What an arse, leaving her like that," Regulus complained, turning to Luna.

Her eyes were closed again.

"I think I'll spend the Holidays here this year," she said.

Regulus nodded to himself even though she couldn't see him. "I'll stay over as well, then," he said.

She opened her eyes just a bit.

"Your parents will complain. They'll want you home," she said.

"I don't want to go home," he said simply. "Not if I'm not going to see you. Can't you stay at the Potters?"

"I'm going there without anybody else. The boys will stay here as well, last year and all that," she explained. "I don't want to be a burden and go alone, so I think I'll stay as well. Perhaps next year I can just... not go home either, I could stay with Remus if he moves out."

"Will he?" Regulus asked.

She hummed, closing her eyes again.

"He wants to. Besides, with Leticia there and the baby, the house will be a bit crowded. I'd imagine my brother will run away from that as soon as possible – full moon makes him annoyed at everything and everyone, and he'll need somewhere safe to transform, so he'll probably stay with the Potters around that time of the month." Luna said, frowning a bit. The pain was worsening. "If everything goes well, I'll just run away with him. I'm sure the Potters will help me out."

"They will. They're your Guardians, that's their legal duty until you get a job or get married," Regulus said.

Luna sighed, limp on the bed.

"You should go to class," Luna whispered.

Regulus understood without her having to say that her headache was worsening enough for her to be alone, in silence and – if he was right – in the dark. So, before leaving with a kiss on her forehead, he moved his wand to close the curtains closer to her bed.

"Thank you!" she choked out.

He smiled to himself as he closed the door of the Hospital Wing.

He hoped that when Slughorn's invitation to the Slughorn Club would arrive, Luna would become happier about staying in the school and forget her father's situation even if just for the Christmas Party that he gave every year for the sixth and seventh years he invited into the club. After all, he would need to find her a suitable dress.

But in the while Regulus was out, Luna wrote a response.

Lyall,

We haven't talked since everything happened, even though we both have been keeping tabs on the other. I haven't spoken to you since July, I believe, which breaks my heart. I miss you, too, but I cannot see you yet, because every time that I close my eyes and I think about you, I remember that day. That's not how I want to see you or remember you, but it is engraved in my mind forever, and I want some time to try to remember the good things as well.

The truth is that Mum's letters have been trying to make me write to you for a while now, but I don't understand why. After everything you put us through, I don't understand why she stays on your side – after everything you put her though, she still cares. I don't think I would be able to do so in her stead. I now understand why Remus hates you so ardently, even though I don't hate you too. I just don't want to be near you right now.

I noticed the changes. I noticed the whispers, but I never gave much attention to it. I wonder if they thought I was too much of a child to understand what you had done to us, but I'm hurt. Not only I couldn't put a name to thing that made it hard for you to sleep, or to the real reason you had decided to sell your house and move back with Nain, but you hid something huge from me. We are family, yes – but I thought we were friends. It hurts to find out that I was wrong.

It might be selfish of me to say that I'm quite hurt to also know that even though you lost me, and I made it clear by not talking to you for over a year, you dare to tell me that you didn't hit rock bottom. I don't want your harm, of course, but I expected a bit more of honesty, not reassurance that you were well. Nain told me the truth; she told me that you were in a terrible condition and that you had been put in a hospital before going to the clinic – isn't that hitting rock bottom? Isn't an overdose that almost took your life rock bottom?

Did you do it on purpose? Were you wishing for death?

I grew up with you telling me how drugs worked and why I should never touch them. You told me everything that could happen to someone if they went that way... and you fell for it regardless of your own warnings. You destroyed your own image to me by grabbing, screaming at me, crying, begging, manipulating me into giving you the very thing that could kill you. Didn't you think how that would affect me? Imagine your own father begging for cocaine and holding you to tightly that you have bruises for weeks.

I thought you were going to break my arm while calling me 'baby'. You tainted the nickname you call me growing up because of my favourite childhood film. You managed to destroy everything you had built in just a few minutes.

I hate how selfish I sound and how self-absorbed it makes me feel.

This letter already has two pages and I'm writing in my smallest handwriting. This is odd. I don't usually write so much to you because I know your letters are short as well, but it seems like I'm proving a point by writing you a long and exhausting letter, so bear with me and don't look away.

I'm not sure I'll receive an answer to this one. I don't know if you'll have words to answer me at all, after all you were always better with your words when spoken rather than written. But in summary, I'm glad you're sorry; it makes everything that I remember about that day feel wrong, because at least I know that you were not yourself and that you regret it happening as much as I do.

I miss you more than I ever thought I would. I never thought I'd have to miss you this way until you were dead, but this whole situation feels a lot like mourning, and yet it hurts even more to know that you are alive. Mourning should be for the dead, not for someone that I can bear looking at. I don't wish for your death, but I know that there was a moment that Remus for his own because of this – he thinks it's his fault. You didn't write as much to him as you did to me, and he'll pretend it doesn't hurt, but it does. He's your son, even if his guts tear him apart whenever he's reminded of the fact.

I'm not stupid. I know that I didn't cause this, you did. I can't control it, but you can. Nobody can cure it, not even yourself, because all you can do it force yourself away from the void that calls your name ever so often. It's a hard and lonely way up, yes, and I know it hurts, but I'm fighting you. I'm fighting an addiction that isn't even mine, but I beg of you to remember how it feels to be a son and fight as hard as you wished your father would've fought in your place for your sake. Think of us.

Fight for me, Daddy. Fight for Remus, because he's so tired.

I'm angry just like Remus is angry. I feel a sense of betrayal that makes me wonder if I'm being childish. I feel like you failed – you were supposed to protect me, but you hurt me, and I know I'm quite grown and quite capable of defending myself, but I'm still your baby, aren't I? Why did hurt me?

I learned from Remus that being angry all the time is exhausting, and I started forgiving people that hurt me a long time ago, but I can't seem to do the same for your just yet. I'm still trying to imagine you in any other way if not half-dead with your drugs in your system sucking the life out of you.

I know that my words are not what you are expecting from me or what you want to hear to feel like you can get better, but they are the truth. I'm want to be honest to you while still wanting you to know that I miss you every second of every minute, of every hour, of every day.

Get better.

Luna.

"I believe it would be... acceptable and even expected if we were to come to the Slughorn Christmas Party with each other, seeing that we are Head Boy and Head Girl," Lily Evans said, raising her chin a bit more in a show of dignity... and because James Potter was quite much taller than her.

James raised his eyebrows, brown eyes widening slightly in surprise and astonishment. Not even in his wildest dreams he had imagined Lily Evans would one day ask him out to a party, even if it was for work purposes. But he knew the truth.

He leaned back against the window of the Head Common Room just under the private dormitories that they had, which he was still trying to get used to sleeping in without his friends. It would feel less lonely if Lily Evans was more willing to talk to him about anything other than duties, but she seemed hesitant to see him as a human being at all, let alone someone that could be her friend.

Though he had feelings (quite obvious and public feelings) for her, he had never crossed the line to making her uncomfortable or touching her at all, even going as far as excusing and apologising several times that one time in a party that his hand brushed against the side of her leg as he sat beside her with his head turned away, too busy talking to Peter to notice her sitting there, drunk and half-asleep.

"You are scared of going alone because Severus Snape will be there," he said, narrowing his eyes. "And you didn't get any other date to the party that it two days away. You don't need to lie to me to get me to go to a party with you."

Lily tried her best to keep her face blank and devoid of any emotion, but she was far too pale to hide the burning shame colouring her face and ears of bright red. She looked away, shifting her weight from one leg to the other and crossing her arms, refusing to look towards James again. She hated being embarrassed in general, but she hated even more being embarrassed in front of James Potter of all people.

"This isn't –"

"Yes, it is."

She looked at him, glaring at him by the corner of her eyes.

"What if it is?" she asked, confrontational.

"Then you got a date," he said with a shrug. "As I said, you don't need to lie to me to get me to go to a party with you. I'll go just if you ask me."

"Alright, then," she said.

She started turning on her heels, feeling her thundering heart still smashing against her ribs and how hard it was to keep her breathing under control. It was more than just shame; it was also nervousness and anxiety that made it so difficult for her to swallow.

"Ask me, then," he said, watching her back turned towards him.

Lily turned slowly, green eyes widening.

"What?" she asked, quite certain she had heard wrong.

"Ask me to go to the party with you honestly, then," he insisted.

James knew that it was embarrassing her, but he had a bit of pride in him. He wanted the girl that he liked to ask him out without lying, all he wanted was for her to say the truth. Besides, his mother had always taught him that girls would say exactly what they wanted from him, and to never assume anything in their silence.

Lily narrowed her eyes at him, cheeks still flushed.

"Fine," she spat towards him, an indignant toss of her head upwards before looking back into his eyes. "Would you go to the Christmas Party with me, James?"

There it was, just like his mother said. A direct question.

And he couldn't speak.

The girl put her arms behind her back, fingers twisting with each other in nervousness. She thought that he would respond swiftly, maybe throw her a charming and cocky grin, laugh at her face, but accept regardless, but he was just staring at her, a soft smile on his lips as if that a sad scene from a film. Lily looked down, feeling like that was not meant for her eyes.

James crossed his arms before his cleared his throat.

"Of course, Meri Jaan. I will, but you should be careful. Keep this up and people will start thinking you actually like my company," he teased.

Lily bristled, taking a step back in retaliation.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Potter. You know the reason I'm doing this. I don't want him to think that I don't have a date," she said. "He'll mock me," she added in a whisper.

James' stance softened.

"You want to save face, then? But you're good enough on your own, Lily," he said. "You don't need me or anyone else to prove anything to anyone, especially not him. Besides, you can be sure that he'll be alone," he added, disgusted at the mental image of Severus Snape.

He was careful with his words now, even using her first name without fear. He could see how she seemed to be grasping at her dignified and controlled act, but she was too nervous and too fragile, vulnerable for him to think of teasing her. He hoped his eyes could convey how genuine he was being.

And they were.

She stared at him, chest warming and cheeks going back to their normal colour as she absorbed his words. Her guard slipped for a moment and she looked grateful at his words, entranced in the way his cheeks raised to allow an actual smile, not a grin.

"Thank you," she said.

He shrugged. His words had been honest, and it wasn't much more than just words, really, but he truly trying to play it cool, because deep inside his heart was racing just as fast as hers.

He searched for something to say after they stood there in silence and staring at each other. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable again by his presence or make her think that his mind had wandered to a kiss (it had).

"So..." he started, shifting his weight to his other leg. "What colour is your dress? Just so I can colour coordinate or something, you know? 'Head Couple' and all that."

Lily rolled her eyes at him, but she did grin at his sudden playful tone coming back. She was almost fond at how quick he could put on a mask.

"Fine," she said in a false tone of exasperation, but her smile couldn't hide her interest and fondness. "It's maroon. I'll wear maroon."

He put his palms under his face, framing it.

"My skin tone looks great in maroon," he said, fluttering her eyelashes.

Lily laughed at that. James promised to himself to remember the first time that she laughed with him at a joke he made.