Ch: 71-80
Chapter 71: Let the Fall Begin
Luna stood there, her pale blonde hair dancing wildly without wind, her pale silvery-gray eyes losing focus, swirling with pure, pitch-black despair and rage.
With her as the center, a "field" invisible to the naked eye but clearly perceptible to all Wizards present spread out.
That "field" was cold, viscous, and filled with a non-human sense of oppression.
It wasn't warm or fiery like ordinary magic, but rather like the chill at the bottom of a midnight tomb, or like the whispers of a collective of countless fragmented, mad consciousnesses.
Wherever it swept, the speed of the flying silver ring fragments slowed, and the dissipating energy flows became sluggish.
This was an ability that belonged only to Luna.
"Luna... you..."
Xenophilius was stunned.
He looked at his daughter in disbelief, watching the soul-shuddering fluctuations emanating from her that he had never felt before.
Beside them, Caesar's pupils contracted slightly.
It worked.
Under the combined effect of extreme emotions, the powder catalyst of the Dark Resonance Stone, and the "understanding darkness through darkness" command he had deliberately guided.
The primitive talent hidden within Luna's body and her taming magic produced a powerful force.
This was an entirely new, magical domain!
A domain belonging only to Luna's talent!
This kind of talent was something even Caesar did not currently possess.
Under Luna's pressure, those Moon Jellyfish let out silent, sharp wails and suddenly fled from Pandora.
They then collapsed and evaporated as if losing support, leaving behind a mess and a pungent burnt smell.
The magic riot began to subside quickly. The defensive silver rings fell to the ground with a clatter, their light extinguished.
Pandora's body stopped becoming transparent.
But she lay there motionless, her face as gray as plaster, her breathing so faint it was almost imperceptible, her life signs like a candle in the wind.
"Mom!" The terrifying "field" on Luna dissipated instantly.
Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the ground, crawling toward Her mother, her trembling fingers wanting to touch Pandora's face but not daring to.
Xenophilius also rushed over, his wand trembling as he pointed it at his wife, chanting the most powerful healing spells he could think of, but the light vanished into Pandora's body like a stone dropped into the ocean.
Caesar stood in the shadows of the doorway, his gaze finally sweeping over Luna.
Due to excessive exhaustion and emotional collapse, she was sobbing quietly beside Her mother, her right hand spread out weakly, her palm still stained with the ashes of the stone.
His gaze accurately captured something.
On the inner side of Luna's right wrist, in a place usually covered by her sleeve, several faint, thin dark patterns like black blood vessels or cracks emerged beneath the skin.
The patterns of these dark markings resembled Moon Jellyfish.
They appeared for less than two seconds before slowly fading away like an illusion, as if they had never existed.
But Caesar knew it wasn't an illusion.
That was the initial brand left on the soul and body when primitive dark magic erupted.
It was the first mark of the possibility of "falling."
Fragile, but already planted.
From today on, everything would "get better"!
He quietly took a step back.
Blending himself deeper into the corridor's shadows, his face bore no expression, only a glint of satisfaction deep in his eyes that the plan was progressing as scheduled.
Pandora wasn't dead.
But all her vital signs had dropped to their lowest point, her magic core was severely damaged, and the connection between her soul and body was incredibly fragile.
After a consultation by the best healers at St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, they gave a cold conclusion:
A permanent deep magical coma, with a recovery chance of less than one percent, and she could die at any moment from her magic completely draining while she slept.
And Luna's childhood was also torn apart forever on this night.
There was no funeral.
Because Pandora was still alive—in the weakest form defined by medicine and magic.
She was placed in a private care room deep within the "Spell Damage" ward on the fifth floor of St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
Dozens of tubes and rune lines were connected to her body to maintain her life and stabilize her residual magic.
The way she lay there was as quiet as an overly realistic doll.
Only the occasional slight fluctuations on the monitoring equipment proved that the soul, once full of whimsical ideas and laughter like wind chimes,
had not yet completely left this withering shell.
But this was crueler than death.
Death has an end, a ritual, a tombstone where grief can be placed, and words of farewell.
But this "unfinished death" held only day after day of waiting, slim hope, and the dull pain of watching a loved one be eaten away by time while being powerless to stop it.
Xenophilius Lovegood almost collapsed.
He lost the ethereal and curious spirit that was the hallmark of The Quibbler's editor-in-chief.
The eyes behind his thick lenses became cloudy and hollow; most of the time, he just sat blankly on a corridor bench outside his wife's ward.
Or at home, facing those unfinished experimental devices and manuscripts full of wild fantasies left by Pandora, sitting for days and nights on end.
The magic in the house, losing its mistress's maintenance, began to turn strange and sorrowful:
Cold water droplets would sometimes seep from the walls, as if they were weeping. The steps that moved on their own became sluggish and silent.
The kitchen teapot would occasionally boil itself and then emit a whistle like a sob, as if waiting for the mistress who would never come to pour tea again.
The house and its master sank together into a silent, desperate ruin.
Only Luna seemed to continue her daily routine calmly.
She ate on time, went to school, silently finished her homework after returning home, and then sat at the door of Her mother's workshop for hours.
Looking at the mess inside frozen at the moment of disaster, her pale silvery-gray eyes were empty; no one knew what she was thinking.
Caesar became the only figure besides Luna who still appeared regularly in this deathly silent house.
He no longer needed excuses.
He would bring simple food and help organize the piles of mail and reader letters for The Quibbler.
Then, most of the time,
he would sit quietly beside Luna without saying anything.
Until a dusk a week later, when the setting sun was like blood, staining the messy garden of the Lovegood Family Home with an ominous layer of orange-red.
Luna sat on the somewhat rusty swing in the garden, looking at the horizon.
"They say Mom might never wake up again," she suddenly spoke, her voice dry, without a sob, frighteningly calm.
Caesar stood a few paces away from her side and only gave an "mm" in response.
"It's because the experiment went wrong, right?" Luna continued to ask, her gaze still fixed on the distance.
"Exploring the unknown always comes with a price," Caesar's voice was steady and emotionless. "Especially the path your mother chose. It was a lonely path, without a map, and full of invisible traps."
Chapter 72: For Her mother, Starting from Understanding the Darkness
"Is it worth it?"
Luna finally turned her head to look at Caesar.
Her movements were slow, as if every slight shift required resisting some invisible weight.
The setting sun etched deep shadows onto her pale face; the twilight, like gradually cooling embers, clung to her slender shoulders.
Those pale silver-grey eyes appeared exceptionally deep in the darkness, the edges of the irises seemingly condensed with a luster from the distant deep sea.
"To see the Moon Jellyfish, to draw a 'Danger Prediction Map'... to become like this, is it worth it?"
Her voice was very light, drifting like a feather, yet hiding sharp fragments in every syllable.
Caesar approached and crouched down in front of Luna, his gaze level with hers as she sat on the swing:
"It has no meaning; in the eyes of other Wizards, this is the most foolish behavior, because they simply don't believe there are such things as Moon Jellyfish in this world.
And the results Her mother obtained because of the Moon Jellyfish experiments will become fodder for other Wizards' tea-time conversations and a joke in the Wizarding World."
Then, Caesar changed the subject:
"However, I believe the question of whether it's worth it is one only Her mother can answer."
He paused, his sharp gaze piercing deep into Luna's eyes, as if to brush aside that layer of silver-grey mist and look directly at the trembling soul behind it.
"Perhaps now, we can ask ourselves another question: Luna, do you want Her mother to become a joke in the Wizarding World?"
Luna's breath hitched for a moment. The iron chains of the swing made a slight, jarring friction sound.
She looked at Caesar, something deep in her pupils slowly coming into focus, as if she were truly understanding the weight carried by his words for the first time, rather than just hearing the sound.
"I, I don't know what I can do. I couldn't even protect her..."
"That night, you did."
Caesar's voice was low and penetrating, "Although you couldn't prevent the entire disaster from happening.
But in your own way, using your ability and magic and the way those Moon Jellyfish exist, you dispelled the final and most lethal threat.
Her mother is still alive now, even if only in this form.
Every beat on the monitor, a part of it is because of you. Because you stood there and didn't run away."
Caesar reached out, gently grasping Luna's cold, thin wrist, and then hugged the poor little girl:
"Luna, you are the most outstanding successor of that magic, and perhaps the only successor of that magic."
Caesar's voice carried a certain hypnotic allure.
"You can see a world that others cannot. Her mother has fallen, but her path remains.
That path leading to the unknown, filled with danger yet hiding the truth, now extends beneath your feet."
Luna's eyes widened. A violent surge of fear, confusion, and a flicker of excitement—ignited suddenly by these words, which even she hadn't noticed—welled up in her eyes.
"Inherit... mother's path?" she murmured, repeating.
"Not repeating her experiments,"
Caesar corrected, his tone solemn and certain, "but inheriting her exploration, completing the understanding she left unfinished.
Using your own way, with those unique eyes of yours. Make her sacrifice meaningful.
Let the name Pandora Lovegood no longer just be a madwoman who had an experimental accident, but the starting point of a great discovery.
And you will be the one who continues to sail, crossing through the mist."
Caesar released her wrist, but the weight of his words pressed heavily upon her pulse.
"This is hard. Very hard."
Caesar stood up, his back to the last line of sky light, his face sinking into shadow, only his eyes remaining clear, "You will be lonely, you will be misunderstood, and you will encounter dangers even more terrifying than that night."
He paused slightly: "But if you choose to step onto this path, you won't be alone. I understand what you see.
I understand the dangers of that path. I also have some spells that can help you walk more steadily and avoid repeating the same mistakes."
Silence fell. In the distance, returning crows let out hoarse cries.
Luna lowered her head, looking at her empty hands.
Her palms seemed to still retain the sensation of stone turning to ash; her ears echoed with the shriek of Her mother's failed experiment and the cold whispers from her dreams.
A massive wave of sorrow surged again like a tide. But at the bottom of that sorrow, something was ignited.
Not hope—that was too warm, too luxurious.
But a kind of determination. Heavy as iron, cold as stone.
She slowly raised her head, her face still devoid of tear tracks.
There was only a near-transparent paleness and a heart-wrenching calmness that transcended her age.
She reached out, her fingers trembling as she grasped Caesar's hand hanging at his side. Her hand was very cold, and his was equally devoid of warmth.
"Caesar."
Her voice was very light, yet exceptionally clear: "I don't want to lose anyone else."
She gripped his hand tightly, her nails almost sinking into his skin.
"Tell me what to do. Tell me how to become strong, how to understand those things in the darkness.
How to not let everything mother saw go to waste."
The setting sun sank completely. Night fell.
Caesar gripped Luna's cold fingers in return, his strength steady.
He looked down, gazing into the girl's eyes, which appeared exceptionally deep in the night.
"I will teach you, Luna."
He promised, his voice steady in the evening breeze as if reading out a fate:
"From understanding the darkness to mastering it. For Her mother, and for everyone you don't want to lose again."
The night was like ink. Two lonely souls stood in the center of the dim garden.
One sank into a deliberately woven sorrow and guidance.
The other fell into a carefully induced dark obsession in the name of love.
They held hands, standing on the dividing line between the ruins of the known world and the unknown abyss.
And in the distance, in that ward on the Fifth Floor of St. Mungos Hospital, the monitoring equipmentmade rhythmic and faint ticking sounds, like the beat of a long dream that could never be completed and from which one could never wake.
The Witch on the bed breathed shallowly, her consciousness drifting to places unknown.
Outside the window, the city lights flickered on one by one; no one heard the gears of fate here, meshing and turning in the shadows, making a slight yet clear sound pointing toward the future.
In the third month after Pandora fell into her slumber, autumn rain began to frequently beat against the windowpanes of the Lovegood Family Home.
Caesar's lessons officially began on a damp afternoon.
He led Luna into the small sunroom on the shady side, brushing the dust off the old wicker chairs.
"Next, I will systematically teach you a whole set of magic I learned at the Top of the World.
I'll teach you how to use this magic, combined with your own talent, to find, discover, and communicate with more Magical Creatures."
Luna curled up in the wicker chair and nodded.
Caesar took out a small earthenware jar wrapped in black cloth.
"Inside this small jar is a rather unhappy tenant. A small Grindylow, driven out by its own kind for being interested in the patterns of algae."
He lifted a corner of the black cloth. Among the moss and pebbles in the jar, a fist-sized pale green silhouette rose and fell slightly."
Chapter 73: Taming the First Dark Creature
"Neither I nor anyone else has this ability."
Caesar turned his gaze to Luna and asked, "Can you try to communicate with it?"
"Not with your ears, but with the perception you use to see Wrackspurts."
"It is very chaotic, faint, and confused—perhaps even lonely, longing to be noticed."
Luna closed her eyes, recalling that cold, hidden sense of connection.
This time, she let it out even softer and lighter, like a strand of spider silk touching the water's surface.
Her finger slowly traced a circle in the empty air.
A few seconds later, the pale green silhouette in the jar moved. A small, transparent tentacle tentatively reached out, gently pressing against the glass wall in the direction she had drawn the circle.
"It felt it." Caesar's voice carried a hint of satisfaction and surprise. "Luna, this talent of yours is truly one of a kind in the world."
Even a Genius Scholar like Caesar could only detect the presence of the small Grindylow through various complex magical tools.
Furthermore, it was merely detection, not seeing it directly with the naked eye and communicating like Luna could.
With satisfaction, Caesar walked toward the window.
"From today on, this will be our curriculum. Getting to know many creatures, learning safe observation, and understanding their unique languages."
Turning around, he stood against the light. "This requires patience, keen perception, and a heart that does not easily fear nor indulge in excessive sympathy. Can you do it?"
Luna looked at the small tentacle pressed against the inner wall of the jar, then at Caesar in the Shadows, and nodded.
"I can."
In the months that followed, the small sunroom became a secret classroom. The lessons were wrapped in the dark fairy tales woven by Caesar.
Luna absorbed it all at an astonishing speed.
Her talent lay not in powerful spells, but in the keen capture and empathetic understanding of the emotions and magical fluctuations of magical creatures.
Faced with dangerous, rejected, or dark creatures, she displayed a near-instinctive affinity.
Caesar's teachings always skirted the edge of danger.
The communication methods he taught drew on the principles of Dark Arts creature taming, but were cleverly wrapped in understanding, empathy, and ancient natural contracts.
He emphasized safe distance, mental protection, and the equivalence of cost, making everything seem like a rigorous and well-intentioned academic exploration.
Xenophilius would occasionally wake up and notice his daughter often staying in the sunroom or recording things late into the night.
But he was too exhausted to look deeply into the strange symbols in her notes, failing to notice the change in his daughter's aura—an intertwining of coldness and ethereality.
Every time Luna established a faint connection with a magical creature, she felt a brief, fulfilling peace.
It was as if by understanding the existences in the dark corners, she was getting a little closer to her sleeping mother.
And a little closer to Caesar, the only one who understood and guided her... On a morning in early winter, with thin frost covering the forest, Caesar took Luna deep into the old coniferous woods.
Today was a practical taming lesson he had arranged.
"It's near here." Caesar crouched down and brushed away pine needles, revealing several paw prints with charred marks.
"A Swallowtail Dog, very young. The footprints are unsteady; it's either injured or has been driven out."
They tracked it for half an hour and found it at the base of a dead spruce tree.
It was curled deep in the Shadows, skin and bones, its forked tail drooping limply. One front paw was bent unnaturally, and its ear had a small notch missing.
Its eyes were a weary, grayish-amber color, staring at them with alert desperation while letting out a faint low growl.
Caesar analyzed calmly, "The fur around its eyes is light, and its paw pads are a dark blue. Rare atavistic traits, mixed with the bloodline of the extinct Nightshadow Wolf."
"In a Swallowtail Dog pack that prizes pure strength, an 'outlier' like this wouldn't live to adulthood."
Luna's heart tightened. She could feel that intense loneliness and pain, a sense of alienation that was out of step with the surrounding world.
"It's dying."
"Can we save it?" Luna's eyes were full of pleading.
Caesar was silent for a few seconds. "Swallowtail Dogs are dark creatures and are difficult to tame; conventional beast-taming magic will only enrage them. But you are different; you can feel its uniqueness."
"Do you want me to tame it?" Luna asked.
Caesar nodded. "The process of communication is mutual, and it carries risks. This is a practical lesson."
He took Luna's hand, guiding her fingertip toward the center of the symbol.
"Imagine your silk threads extending to envelop it, providing shelter."
"Tell it that within your threads, being 'different' is not a flaw, but a mark."
"It will be very cold, and it might sting."
"But if you succeed, you will establish a connection far deeper than an ordinary bond. It will become your true 'first companion'."
Luna closed her eyes, blocking out everything. Her entire mind was focused on the trembling, grayish-white figure.
She thought of the stains on her shoes that wouldn't wash out, the harsh laughter in the hallways, the endless ticking in the hospital room, and the unfillable void in her father's eyes.
She thought of how she always saw things others couldn't—that transparent, cold membrane.
Loneliness.
The loneliness of being misunderstood. The loneliness of longing to be truly'seen'.
She took these feelings as a cold 'cognition' and transmitted them through the symbol toward the Swallowtail Dog pup.
She imagined the Shadows of the realm in her soul that 'could see the darkness', spreading like the softest black veil to cover the trembling little body.
At first, there was no reaction.
Then the pup twitched violently, its grayish-white eyes widening, a flash of terror followed by an even deeper confusion.
Luna felt a cold, rough, wild, and pain-filled mental touch crash into her consciousness.
It was like stepping barefoot on crushed ice or being wrapped in rusty iron wire.
It was very painful, and very cold.
She didn't flinch, steadily maintaining the'seeing' and the 'invitation'.
The cold touch began to soften, circling and testing cautiously.
The alert desperation in the pup's eyes was slowly replaced by an incredulous, ignorant stirring. It struggled to lift its head and look at Luna.
Caesar observed quietly. Luna's face was pale, sweat beaded at her temples, yet her breathing was steady and her fingertips did not tremble.
The air above the symbol twisted slightly, as two faint silk threads—one deep gray and one silver-gray—slowly attempted to intertwine.
An unknown amount of time passed.
The pup under the tree roots stopped trembling.
It laboriously moved its body to press closer to the depths of the Shadows, but its grayish-white eyes remained fixed on Luna.
The hostility had vanished, replaced by a weary, dazed dependence and a faint, newborn curiosity.
Luna opened her eyes and exhaled a long breath, her body swaying as she nearly lost her strength.
Caesar steadied her by the shoulders.
"Did it work?"
The pup looked at her and blinked its eyes extremely slowly.
"The preliminary bond has been established."
Caesar's voice was devoid of emotion.
"It has accepted your taming. But this is only the beginning. It needs healing and food, and the bond requires continuous maintenance."
He stepped forward to check its injuries, using simple healing charms to treat the severe wounds and fractures, and feeding it a nutritional potion.
Throughout the entire process, the pup only flinched slightly and did not resist, its eyes watching Lunamost of the time.
"Give it a name. A name can strengthen the bond."
Luna crouched in front of the pup.
The little fellow struggled to tilt its head up, its throat letting out a tiny purring sound.
She held her hand suspended above its head.
The pup sniffed her fingertips and lightly touched the pads of her fingers with its cold, damp nose.
"Shadow," Luna said softly. "Your name will be 'Shadow'. Because we both... have a part of us that belongs to the Shadows."
The pup, Shadow, let out a slightly louder purr from its throat, as if in response.
Chapter 74: Illustrated Guide and Manual for Dark Magic Creatures
Smuggling it home was delicate work.
Caesar used magic to put it into a deep sleep, shrunk it, and hid it inside the inner pocket of Luna's cloak, taking a long detour to avoid any acquaintances.
While they were setting up a temporary little nest by the fireplace in Luna's room, Xenophiliusdiscovered them.
He stood at the door holding a cup of cold tea. Seeing the scarred, strangely colored little beast, he looked blank for a moment before his eyes widened.
"What is that?" His voice was dry and raspy.
"This is Shadow, Daddy." Luna stood in front of the nest, shielding it. "It was injured and driven out. Caesar and I saved it."
"A Swallowtail Dog..."
Xenophilius recognized the forked tail, and his face turned grim. "Luna! A dark creature like a Swallowtail Dog is dangerous and impossible to tame. Send it away immediately or notify the Disposal Department!"
"It won't hurt me; it's different. It's lonely and needs help. Mama wouldn't drive it away!"
At the mention of Pandora, Xenophilius's body stiffened, and a look of deeper pain and irritation flashed across his face.
"Your mother isn't here! And she wouldn't allow such a dangerous thing to be kept either! It's common sense!"
Seeing her father about to step forward, Luna spread her arms wide to protect the nest.
Shadow struggled to stand up and let out a low, threatening growl, but Luna gently pressed it down.
"Daddy, please..."
Tears welled in Luna's eyes. "It only has me... just like... just like I only have you now..."
The last sentence was very soft, yet it felt like a dull knife stabbing into Xenophilius's heart.
He froze in place, looking at the stubborn tears on his daughter's pale little face.
He looked at the clearly abnormal little beast, whose eyes held nothing but dependence, and remembered his wife's empty chair and the cold equipment at the hospital.
A massive sense of exhaustion and powerlessness overwhelmed him.
His lips twitched a few times, but in the end, he turned and left dejectedly.
That night, Caesar stayed to help Luna take care of Shadow.
Once Shadow had fallen into an exhausted sleep, Caesar whispered by the fireplace:
"Your father doesn't love you any less; he's just too sad. He can't see beyond the Shadows, and he can't see what you truly need."
He paused, his voice dropping even lower. "Sometimes, to protect the people and things we care about, we need to make choices."
"Like not telling your father everything, so as not to add more worry and fear to his heart already filled with grief."
"This isn't lying; it's a considerate form of protection. Do you understand?"
Luna hugged her knees, watching the firelight flicker across Shadow's fur.
She remembered her father's hunched back as he left, and the unshakeable mist in his eyes.
After a long silence, she gave a soft but firm nod.
"I understand. Shadow is our secret. I'll take good care of it and won't let Daddy worry."
Caesar reached out and gently ruffled her hair.
"Good girl."
The firelight cast their Shadows onto the wall, stretching and intertwining until they were indistinguishable.
In the Shadows of the corner, the little beast stirred in its sleep, curling itself deeper into Luna's blanket and that promised dark refuge... On Caesar's tenth birthday, London was shrouded in autumn mist.
After breakfast, he said to Luna, "I'm taking you somewhere. A birthday adventure, and also materials for the next stage of your studies."
After the complex sequence of knocks on the back door of the Leaky Cauldron, the scent of the air changed.
The alley was narrow, flanked by towering, crooked black buildings.
Passersby hurried along, faces obscured by hoods and scarves, their gazes wary.
Knockturn Alley.
Luna instinctively moved closer to Caesar.
After walking along the damp flagstone path for a few minutes, they stopped in front of a shop whose sign was nearly falling off.
Caesar pushed open the creaking door.
The shop was crowded and dim, floating with the smell of old parchment and mold.
An old man, as thin as a skeleton, sat behind the counter, slowly carving a white object that looked suspiciously like a human finger bone.
The old man glanced up at them, gave a grunt, and continued carving his "bone."
Caesar walked straight to the deepest corner swallowed by Shadows, skillfully rummaging through the tattered pamphlets on a low shelf.
Luna stood quietly behind him, looking around curiously.
Her gaze fell on a worn picture book tossed onto a pile of waste paper. It had a dark red hardback cover with mottled gold-leaf lettering:
"Bedtime Stories: For Special Children."
The cover illustration looked like a winged sprite with a smile that was far too bright, and two hollow black dots where the eyes should be.
Caesar found what he was looking for.
It was an unremarkable little book of rough, dark green leather. The cover had no writing or patterns, only signs of wear.
He blew off the dust, flipped through a few pages, and nodded.
He took the book back to the counter and placed it down along with a few Silver Sickles.
The withered old man glanced at the book and the money, swept the silver coins into a drawer with a skeletal hand, and mumbled something incoherent in his throat.
Leaving Knockturn Alley and returning to the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron, Caesar handed the dark green little book to Luna.
"For you."
Luna took the book. It was very light, and the leather cover had a delicate texture similar to the skin of a cold-blooded animal.
She opened the first page to find handwritten cursive in dark brown ink.
The title: "Moonlight Fairy Tales and the Little Guests in the Garden: For Children Who Can See the Stories Behind the Stars."
It looked like an ordinary, somewhat aged book of fairy tales.
It was accompanied by simple, even childish illustrations: mushrooms dancing under the moonlight, sprites hiding behind flower pots, and field mice holding tea parties under tree roots.
But Luna's "eyes" immediately told her this was more than just fairy tales. The lines of the illustrations vaguely formed the outlines of basic, obscure magical symbols.
The metaphors and choice of words in the "fairy tales" aligned with descriptions of the habits, weaknesses, and basic communication methods of low-level dark creatures.
It was an introductory-level illustrated guide and manual for Dark Arts creatures disguised as a book of fairy tales.
"The author of this book is said to be a Witch from a long time ago."
Caesar led Luna to a quiet corner of the pub and ordered two butterbeers:
"She believed that many demonized dark creatures were actually just misunderstood, lonely beings."
"She wrote these stories to teach her equally'special' daughter how to safely recognize them, and even make 'friends' with some of them."
Luna's finger traced the illustration of "A Sprite Stealing the Gardener's Silver Thimble."
The sprite's hiding angle and the use of Shadows in the drawing hinted at the stealth patterns of a certain type of small, invisible creature.
"Have you only taught me, Caesar?"
Caesar took a sip of butterbeer. He suddenly thought of another brown-haired girl, but he did not pick up that topic.
Instead, he changed the subject. "This book is another of our little secrets. Your father probably wouldn't approve of an 'anonymous fairy tale book bought from an old bookstore in Knockturn Alley' as reading material for an eight-year-old girl."
Luna looked up at Caesar.
The firelight from the pub's fireplace danced in his deep grey eyes, giving his usually too-calm gaze a hint of warmth.
Complex emotions intertwined in her heart. She knew Knockturn Alley wasn't a good place, and she knew this book might contain things her father would never like.
But she still hugged the book tightly and nodded vigorously.
"I will read it well. With my 'eyes'."
Caesar smiled—a faint smile, but one that reached his eyes.
"Happy birthday, Caesar," Luna said softly.
"Thank you." Caesar clinked his glass against hers. "The best gift is seeing a good student.
Chapter 75: Assigning Homework, Heading to Hogwarts
Time flowed like water, and a year passed quickly.
It was the summer before her ninth birthday.
Luna spent it in a subtle sense of suspension.
Her anticipation stemmed from Hogwarts.
The Castle her mother had described so dreamily was the place where her father had studied, featuring moving staircases, talking portraits, and owls flying through the night sky.
But her panic also stemmed from this very place.
Caesar was two years older than her, and he would be leaving this September.
On a sweltering July afternoon, that panic became reality.
A tan owl flew through the window of the Lovegood Family Home and dropped a heavy parchment envelope onto Caesar's lap in the shade of the garden.
The envelope was made of thick parchment, with the address written in emerald green ink.
On the back was a wax-sealed shield crest, with a large 'H' in the center, surrounded by a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake.
A letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Caesar's expression didn't change much, though a look of expected realization flickered in his eyes.
He calmly opened the letter, quickly scanning the standard acceptance notice, the list of required items, and the platform information for King's Cross Station on September 1st.
Luna sat on the swing nearby, a book in her hands, but she could no longer focus on the words.
Her gaze was glued to the letter, and to Caesar's calm profile. Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand.
He was leaving.
A cold tide instantly submerged the July heat.
The sunlight was blinding, and the purple daisies her mother had planted before she died looked garish and fake.
After Caesar finished reading the letter, he folded it carefully and tucked it back into the envelope.
He turned to meet Luna's hollow, panicked gaze, which she hadn't had time to hide.
"September 1st, King's Cross Station, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters."
Luna opened her mouth to say congratulations, but her throat was blocked and she couldn't make a sound.
She looked down at the dark green book on her lap, her fingers unconsciously tightening and creating slight creases.
A long silence followed, broken only by the exhausted chirping of cicadas.
Caesar moved. He took two things out of his old leather bag.
The first was a palm-sized mirror with edges encased in dark silver metal.
The back was engraved with intricate vine patterns, and among the vines, Ancient Runes as small as grains of rice were faintly visible.
The mirror's surface was exceptionally bright, reflecting Luna's pale little face and her unfocused eyes.
"A Two-Way Mirror. It's one half of a set of magical communication tools. I have the other half with me.
If you inject a little magic while calling the other person's name, and if the person on the other side is also holding their mirror, you can establish a brief visual and audio connection.
There are distance limitations, but it's enough to cover most of Britain."
Luna stared blankly at the cold mirror in her palm; her own reflection seemed blurry and distant.
"The second item."
Caesar took out a roll of parchment tied with a deep blue ribbon and unfurled it. On it, ten observation tasks were listed in neat, powerful handwriting:
"Your holiday homework. Your learning cannot stop while I am away."
Luna's gaze moved to the parchment.
[Independent Holiday Observation Record (Elementary)]
1. Find and tame at least three types of magical creatures that are only active after sunset; describe their appearance, movement patterns, and the characteristics of any faint magic fluctuations you may sense.
2. On a moonless night near the old oak tree on the west side of the forest, attempt to sense and record the frequency of the mental disturbances released when Shadowbirds cry.
3. Track a Shadow's predatory/patrol route for three consecutive nights; attempt to control the Shadow's targets and methods of attack.
4... Ten tasks in total, each one precisely targeting her current learning progress, involving sensory enhancement, magic micro-manipulation, adaptation to dark environments, and behavioral analysis of dangerous creatures.
They were like sturdy ropes that would keep her firmly on the set path even when he wasn't by her side.
"These tasks will help you consolidate your foundation and prepare you for the next step in your studies."
Caesar's voice pulled her back from the task list.
"If you encounter something you don't understand, or if you complete a task, you can contact me using the mirror. I expect a study report at least once a week. Can you do that?"
Luna nodded vigorously, clutching the mirror and the parchment like a life-saving buoy.
Seeing her struggle to suppress her unease, Caesar suddenly leaned forward, coming very close to her.
So close that Luna could smell the scent on him—a mix of old books, cold air, and a very faint Potion.
So close that his breath brushed against her ear.
He spoke in a low, clear voice that only the two of them could hear:
"Remember, Luna, you are special. You can see things that others close their eyes and pretend don't exist.
You can hear whispers in the silence. You can understand the loneliness in the dark corners.
The Hogwarts Professors might teach you many useful spells in the future, but they might not understand.
They will never fully understand what you truly possess, or how vast and... real the world you can touch actually is."
His words were like magical needles, precisely piercing the soil in the deepest part of Luna's heart, where pride and trepidation were mixed.
"But I will understand." Caesar's voice grew even softer, yet every word struck her eardrums and her heart:
"No matter where I am, no matter who you meet in the future, remember this:
I will always be the first person to'see' your true self, and I will be the one who always understands your value.
Hogwarts is just the beginning of another journey, not the end of our lessons."
Caesar paused, pulling back slightly but still locking his gaze onto her eyes as he continued to comfort her:
"You will go to Hogwarts, Luna.
In two years, that owl will come for you too.
And before then, and after then, our paths will always run parallel. I promise."
Having said that, Caesar straightened up and returned to his normal distance and tone, as if the private whisper from a moment ago had never happened.
But Luna's world had been completely bound by those words.
The panic hadn't disappeared, but it was covered by something larger and weightier.
She looked down at the cold Two-Way Mirror in her palm.
The mirror clearly reflected her current appearance:
Her pale blonde hair was messy, and there were lingering red marks in her pale silver-grey eyes, but deep within them, two faint, stubborn flames had been lit.
She looked at herself in the mirror, as if seeing for the first time the "special" girl Caesar had described.
Then, she performed an action she hadn't even thought through.
She raised her arms and tightly hugged Caesar, who was standing in front of her, burying her face in the front of his crisp, old shirt.
She hugged him very hard, her small body trembling slightly.
Caesar's body stiffened for an imperceptible moment.
This hug reminded him of something else.
It was another figure with brown hair.
While the one before him was silver-white.
Caesar didn't hug her back; he only raised his hand to give her thin back a very light, soothing pat.
"I will finish the homework," Luna's muffled voice came from his chest, sounding nasal but exceptionally determined. "I will study hard.
I will wait for you... and, I will go to Hogwarts to find you."
"I know you will," Caesar said, his voice vibrating slightly through his chest.
It was a long time before Luna let go and took a small step back, her face flushed with embarrassment, but her eyes no longer panicked.
She clutched the Two-Way Mirror and the parchment homework to her chest like they were her most precious treasures.
Caesar gave her one last look, his gaze deep and hard to read.
Then he turned around, took his Hogwarts letter, and walked toward their quiet, orderly house in the setting sun.
His Shadow stretched long behind him, its edges clear and sharp.
Luna stood where she was, watching his back disappear behind the door.
The mirror in her arms was pressed against her heart, its coldness gradually warmed by her body heat.
The evening breeze blew through the garden, and the purple daisies swayed gently.
Chapter 76: He Is the Only Light in Her World
Hogwarts.
This was the first step of Caesar's mission.
Only here could he become Lord Voldemort's spy.
The Sorting Hat stayed on Caesar's head slightly longer than most new students.
The whisper of that tattered, pointed hat echoed directly in his mind:
"Hmm... a rare clarity. Ambition like an underground river, cold and steady. A desire to prove yourself?
No, it's more like... a desire to control a certain narrative.
Exceptional talent, especially in fields requiring precise calculation and emotional detachment.
Ravenclaw would appreciate your mind, but it's too noisy there, too much pointless curiosity.
Gryffindor? No, your courage lacks heat.
Hufflepuff? Honesty and loyalty are not your primary considerations. Then, there's only—"
"Slytherin," Caesar responded calmly in his mind.
The hat seemed to chuckle softly: "As you wish."
The Slytherin common room was located beneath the Black Lake; a ghostly green light seeped through the massive windows, and the air always carried the chill of stone walls and the briny scent of lake water.
Silver and green decorations, furniture carved with serpent patterns, and the cautious, appraising looks in the students' eyes as they whispered.
Everything here was more in line with Caesar's expectations.
He quickly gained a degree of recognition for his calm demeanor and impeccable manners, a result of the Wilkes family's pure-blood upbringing.
As well as the precision and control he displayed in Potion Class and Charms, far exceeding those of his peers.
But his true goal was not a reputation within the house.
The reason Caesar chose the "Master of Illusion" talent was precisely to serve his current role as a double agent.
Illusion was not just about creating phantasms; it was about the fine manipulation of perception, the keen capture of emotional fluctuations, and the effortless control of one's own presence.
Caesar began to notice which upper-year Slytherins appeared exceptionally exhausted or hyperactive after specific dates, with irrational fanaticism lingering deep in their eyes.
He listened to snippets of conversation in the corners of the common room about certain "gatherings" and the increasingly blatant disdain for "mudbloods" and "blood traitors."
About the implicit expectations for the "Dark Lord," who had disappeared but whose name was still mentioned with awe.
The clues pointed to several seventh-year boys with suspicious family backgrounds.
And a gloomy-looking sixth-year girl with outstanding Potion grades, whose father was said to be in Azkaban.
Traces of Lord Voldemort were found.
But contact required an opportunity, and an irrefutable token of loyalty.
Caesar created one.
In an advanced Potion Class, he obtained permission to audit based on his solid foundation.
Then, during this class, he "accidentally" assisted that sixth-year girl, Alicia Travers, in correcting a stirring sequence that could have caused the cauldron to explode slightly.
Afterward, while returning her misplaced notes, he "carelessly" let a piece of parchment with charred edges fall from between the pages.
On the parchment was a notice of a change in gathering location written in cipher; Caesar "happened" to recognize this variation of cipher and unintentionally revealed his knowledge of the historical origins of certain "pure-blood restoration theories."
Alicia stared at him for a long time, her light brown eyes full of scrutiny.
A few days later, an unsigned note appeared by Caesar's bedside, with only a time and place written on it:
Midnight, opposite the tapestry of the trolls on the fifth floor.
It was a small, secret gathering.
There were few participants, and the atmosphere was fanatical yet oppressive.
They discussed how to purify Hogwarts, how to prepare for the Dark Lord's possible return, and how to identify and deal with those unworthy of using magic.
Caesar listened in silence, only supplementing historical developments regarding the rights and obligations of ancient pure-blood families or certain obscure Dark Arts defense spells in a calm, objective, and well-cited manner when asked.
His reservoir of knowledge was striking, and the emotionless rationality of his narration made him stand out particularly among a group of passion-driven teenagers—and particularly dangerous.
He was in no hurry to swear fealty or show blind fanaticism. He simply demonstrated value, showing a colder, more efficient way of thinking.
This instead allowed him to gain the attention of the inner circle more quickly.
Through Alicia and another seventh-year boy, Walton.
Caesar's name, along with the evaluation of him as "young but not to be underestimated, knowledgeable, firm in mind, and perhaps useful," began to pass upward through certain secret channels.
Meanwhile.
Once a week, behind the curtains of the four-poster bed in the Slytherin dormitory, or in the shadows of some secluded corner of the Castle.
Caesar would take out that dark silver Two-Way Mirror. Injecting magic, the surface of the mirror would ripple, and the scene on the other side would emerge.
Usually, it was a corner of that old house on the outskirts of Exeter, Luna's room, the shaded sunroom, or the edge of the forest.
The girl's face gradually became clear in the mirror, always with an expectant, focused expression.
"Is this week's task completed?" Caesar's voice came through the mirror, slightly deepened by the magical transmission, but still steady.
"Yes," Luna nodded and began to report.
Her narrative gradually lost its initial childishness and hesitation, becoming organized and even carrying a hint of Caesar-like calm objectivity.
She described how to simply and efficiently tame insect-type magical creatures.
How to distinguish the subtle magic ripples caused by the wing vibrations of different flying creatures.
How to adjust mental protection charms to more effectively filter out the whispering interference of avian magical creatures.
Caesar listened carefully, occasionally asking questions; his guidance was remote and precise, like carving a complex instrument.
Luna absorbed it hungrily.
Her talent grew rapidly in her lonely and focused practice.
Her perception of magic fluctuations became increasingly keen, and her understanding of the emotions and needs of non-human beings became more intuitive.
She also mastered the magic techniques Caesar called "unconventional but effective" faster and faster.
The old house in Exeter and the surrounding forest became her private, vast laboratory.
As for Luna's father, Xenophilius.
He spent most of his time immersed in his own grief and the increasingly bizarre editorial work of The Quibbler.
He became accustomed to the growing number of handwritten notes, strange specimens, and the occasional low, odd chanting coming from her room.
Or rather, he was powerless to look deeper.
Loneliness was her most faithful companion.
At school, she was still "Loony Lovegood," but now, she had lost even the interest to explain.
Her mother's slumber was like an invisible barrier, completely separating her from the world of her peers.
Her father's silence was another, thicker wall.
She wrote on a page of her diary: [Only the face that appears in the mirror every week, the steady voice of guidance, and the occasional "well done" have become the only stable light source in my world.]
Chapter 77: You'll Always Be by My Side, Right?
Luna began counting on her fingers how many days were left until the next "call."
She would prepare what she needed to report in advance, practicing her wording repeatedly, hoping to receive just a little more validation from him.
When she completed the assignments Caesar set, she would imagine the expression on his face when he saw the results. Not a smile—Caesar rarely smiled—but perhaps a flicker of satisfaction in those deep grey eyes.
Dependence, like a vine winding around the only tree trunk, grew silently and wildly in the quiet soil.
Luna did not know that the heart of the tree trunk had long since been hollowed out, merely waiting for the right moment to guide the vine toward a predetermined, dark cliff.
Meanwhile, in the cold stone chamber beneath the lake at Hogwarts, Caesar set down the two-way mirror, which had returned to its calm state after the call ended, his face devoid of expression.
The girl's growing magic in the mirror, her increasingly clear affinity for darkness, and her almost total trust in him were all according to plan.
He looked out at the murky lake water outside the window, where a massive Shadow occasionally swam slowly past.
The trial for the Death Eater reserves was approaching.
And Luna, his meticulously cultivated and most special "work," was also steadily growing in far-off Exeter, moving toward the form he desired.
"I can't imagine what kind of expression my good student Luna will have when the simulation ends."
"Will she help herself block Hermione, or... regardless, it will be very interesting."
...On the eve of the Christmas holidays, Exeter saw its first proper snowfall of the winter.
Fine powder snow swirled down, covering the crooked roof of the Lovegood Family Home, the desolate garden, and the edge of the forest, softening all sharp silhouettes until the world fell into a soft, silent grey-white.
Caesar's return came without warning.
It was during a twilight that Luna caught a glimpse of that familiar figure through the kitchen window, walking through the fluttering curtain of snow and pushing open their creaking picket gate.
He wore a black Hogwarts traveling cloak, thin snow resting on his shoulders, his deep grey eyes still as calm as a deep pool under the dim winter light.
Two weeks had passed since their last meeting through the two-way mirror.
Inside the house, Xenophilius remained listless, spending most of his time in the study.
As Caesar entered the house, he brought in a gust of outdoor chill.
He first gave a polite greeting to Xenophilius, who was slumped in an armchair with a hollow gaze, receiving a vague nod in response.
Then, his gaze fell upon Luna, lingering for a moment longer.
Luna stood by the stairs, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her sweater.
She looked thinner than she had in the autumn; her chin was pointed, and her pale blonde hair seemed to have lost some of its luster.
Beneath those pale silver-grey eyes, which were always ethereal or focused, were faint dark Shadows.
More importantly, Caesar could clearly feel that the magical field surrounding her was much stronger than before—a reserved, cold growth.
But within this growing flow of magic, there was a faint, unstable tremor. It was a sign of doubt, fear, and a slight conflict in magical control.
"Go upstairs," Caesar signaled to her, his voice steady.
Luna followed him silently back to her room.
The Swallowtail Dog, Shadow, was curled up by the fireplace; upon seeing Caesar, it immediately stood up.
Its grey-white eyes stared at him, and a sound somewhere between a purr and a low growl issued from its throat; its tail did not wag.
Caesar glanced at Shadow and said nothing.
He closed the door, applied a simple Silencing Charm, and then turned to face Luna.
Before he could speak, he heard her.
"Caesar," Luna suddenly spoke, her voice very soft.
"Hmm?"
"You'll always be by my side, right?"
Luna looked up, her pale silver-grey eyes reflecting his image in the firelight.
They were filled with dependence and a trace of imperceptible, fledgling-like fragile pleading.
"Always guiding me, telling me what's right and what's wrong, when I'm afraid, like right now?"
Caesar looked down at her, watching for a long time.
The firelight danced in his eyes but could not illuminate that deep grey base; his face remained expressionless.
Then, he reached out and gently pulled her into his arms.
It was a restrained and dignified embrace, without much warmth, yet solid enough.
"I will, Luna."
Caesar's voice sounded above her head, steady and clear, like a promise: "Until the very last moment."
Luna buried her face in the front of his cloak, which carried the outdoor chill and a faint scent of old books, and closed her eyes, as if she had finally found the only stable floating island in a turbulent ocean.
He had promised.
Until the last moment—that was enough.
But Luna did not see Caesar's gaze as he spoke the words "last moment," looking over her head and out at the snowy night through the window.
That gaze pierced through the cold air, casting into the depths of an invisible future, cold and precise, like a sniper locking onto a target.
Caesar would certainly be by her side until the last moment.
Until she had completely followed the path he had laid out toward that predetermined, dark end.
That, perhaps, was his so-called "last moment."
The snowy night was silent.
The flames in the fireplace burned quietly, casting the Shadows of the two people embracing—
One full of dependence, the other full of calculation—onto the wall, intertwining into a warm and illusory picture.
The last line in Luna's diary tonight:
[He gave me a promise. We are together until the last moment, and that is enough.]
...The turning point occurred on a rainy afternoon in early spring.
The air was damp and sticky, carrying the scent of earth and rotting plants, like a wet towel pressed against one's nose and mouth.
Xenophilius Lovegood was looking for a bottle of ink.
The special iris-blue ink Pandora used to use, which would change color slightly according to the writer's emotions.
He remembered there might still be half a bottle in the back of a drawer in the study. He rummaged through, his fingers brushing over dusty documents, scattered notes, dried quills... Then, at the bottom of a drawer stuffed with old proofs of The Quibbler, his fingertips touched an unfamiliar object.
It wasn't an ink bottle.
He pulled the object out in confusion.
It was a book.
A dark green, rough leather cover with no writing on it, corners worn, exuding a sense of age from years past.
This clearly did not fit the style of the Lovegood family's collection. He frowned and idly flipped it open.
On the first page, a handwritten title in ornate script: "Fairy Tales Under the Moon and the Little Guest in the Garden: For Those Children Who Can See the Stories Behind the Stars."
A fairy tale book?
Xenophilius was stunned for a moment.
Luna's? When did she start reading such an old book?
He continued to flip through.
Chapter 78: Father-in-Law's Alertness Towards the Blonde Boy (Part 2)
At first, the pages were indeed seemingly naive fairy tales and simple illustrations.
But soon, his professional sensitivity as the editor-in-chief of The Quibbler, combined with a father's intuition regarding his daughter's abnormalities, made him sense something was wrong.
The plot progression of those "fairy tales" faintly revealed a strange, excessive familiarity and rationalization of the behavioral logic of "non-human existences."
The lines of those illustrations, in inconspicuous corners, seemed to form variants of simplified runes.
He read faster and faster, his heart sinking further with every page.
When he flipped to a middle page and saw the story about "how to make friends with the weeping 'Soot Sprites' in the corner of the garden," where the illustration lines hinted at a composite structure of a basic Binding Curse and emotional soothing...
A chill crawled up his spine.
This wasn't a fairy tale.
This was a disguised, entry-level introductory manual for Dark Arts creatures.
The writing style was extremely subtle and malicious, specifically targeting children like Luna who possessed special perceptions and were full of curiosity about unconventional existences.
Xenophilius's hands began to tremble.
He slammed the book shut and threw it back into the drawer as if he had been burned.
No, it's impossible.
How could Luna... Was it Caesar?
Caesar must have given it to her!
Anger and a belated, blinded panic instantly overwhelmed him.
He began to rummage through Luna's room like a madman.
Under the mattress, he found several rolls of parchment tied with deep blue ribbons, containing Luna's neat but terrifying observation records:
Disturbance frequencies of "Shadowland Fungus" spores, emotional analysis of "Night-Cry Banshee" hatchling sounds, detailed charts on the territorial awareness and aggression triggers of Swallowtail Dog "Shadows"... In a hidden compartment of the desk drawer, he discovered even more notes.
They contained not only observation records but also drafts of practicing complex rune combinations, with corrections and commentary written by Caesar in a different handwriting.
Xenophilius vaguely recognized those rune combinations.
They belonged to some ancient and obscure variant of ritual magic used to establish mandatory communication channels with dark creatures.
What made his heart stop the most was what he found in an old hatbox on the top shelf of the wardrobe.
It was a crude little doll made of black feathers, some kind of animal's fangs, and dark red silk thread.
There was no name written on the doll, but it emitted an extremely faint, uncomfortable magical fluctuation, like the prototype of some primitive curse or marking medium.
On a note nearby, in Luna's childish handwriting: "Caesar says this can 'mark' potentially hostile existences in advance, letting the Shadows give a warning. For practice."
"Plip."
A drop of warm liquid fell onto the open parchment, smudging the ink.
Xenophilius blankly raised his hand to wipe his face, only to realize he was already covered in tears.
It wasn't sadness; it was a massive, betrayed anger and a belated, heart-eating fear.
His daughter.
His innocent, lonely little Luna, who always saw strange things.
During the time he had indulged in the grief of losing his wife, allowing himself to become a walking corpse, right under his nose...
She had been systematically, step by step, led to the edge of the Dark Arts by that boy he once thought "might make her a bit more cheerful."
Those lessons, those assignments, those instructions that seemed to encourage understanding and communication—they were all paving the way for her dark talent.
They were all twisting her perception.
Binding her to those dangerous, forbidden things!
And what had he done?
He had neglected her.
He had wallowed in his own pain, pushing his daughter into the embrace of that seemingly reliable, knowledgeable neighbor boy.
Self-reproach and rage, like two poisonous flames, incinerated what little remained of his sanity.
He grabbed the dark green "fairy tale book," those rolls of parchment notes, and that eerie little doll, stumbling as he rushed out of Luna's room.
Not even stopping to put on shoes, he charged directly into the cold, muddy garden toward the neighboring Wilkes family home.
Caesar was in the living room, practicing non-verbal spells in front of an ancient, mottled mirror embedded in the wall.
The threads of magic flowing from the tip of his wand were precise and stable, sketching complex defensive runes in the air before instantly dissipating.
Hearing the urgent, violent knocking, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He dispersed the unfinished spell and walked to the door.
Opening the door, he found a drenched, disheveled Xenophilius Lovegood with bloodshot eyes, clutching a pile of items, his expression twisted.
"Wilkes!"
Xenophilius's voice was hoarse and broken as he threw the items in his hands directly at Caesar's head and face.
"What have you done to my daughter?! What are these?!"
"What are these malicious, filthy introductory guides to the Dark Arts?! You... you snake hiding beside a child!"
Caesar's gaze swept over the dark green book, the parchment, and the feather doll scattered on the floor.
His expression did not change; he didn't even twitch an eyebrow. He simply leaned down calmly, picked the items up one by one, and brushed off non-existent dust.
Then, holding them in his hand, he stood straight again and looked at the trembling Xenophilius.
"Mr. Lovegood," his voice was chillingly steady.
"Please come in to talk. Standing in the rain shouting won't solve any problems, nor does it befit your status as the editor-in-chief of The Quibbler."
His calmness only served to further enrage Xenophilius.
"Don't give me that! Answer my question!"
"Why did you give Luna these things?! Why did you teach her these... these evil tricks?!"
Caesar stepped away from the doorway, gesturing for him to enter.
Xenophilius was panting heavily, his chest heaving, but he followed him inside anyway, as if eager to conduct this trial in a closed space.
The living room was quiet, with the fireplace burning, dry and warm—a stark contrast to Xenophilius's wet and miserable state.
Caesar placed the items on the coffee table and sat down in an armchair, gesturing for Xenophilius to do the same.
Xenophilius didn't sit; he paced back and forth in the living room like a trapped beast before suddenly turning and pointing at the items on the coffee table.
"Explain!"
Caesar leaned back, hands folded on his knees, his posture relaxed, even carrying a hint of scrutiny.
"Explain what?"
"Explain why, while you were too immersed in grief to care for anything else, and your daughter was being isolated at school and feeling lonely and lost at home because of her innate talent..."
"I gave her some guidance and companionship?"
"Guidance? Companionship?" Xenophilius interrupted shrilly. "You call this guidance and companionship?!"
"Teaching her how to establish dangerous connections with dark creatures? Teaching her to draw these runes that might invite misfortune?"
"Giving her this... this poisonous book disguised as a fairy tale?!"
"That book," Caesar glanced at the dark green-covered book, "is a legacy written by an ancient Witchfor her equally'special' daughter."
"It doesn't teach the Dark Arts; it teaches how to safely recognize, understand, and cautiously deal with existences that are feared and misunderstood by mainstream magical society."
"It teaches children to distinguish danger and set boundaries, rather than being blindly afraid or blindly trusting."
"I believe this is vital survival knowledge for a child like Luna, who can see another world."
Chapter 79: You Need Rest
"Survival knowledge?" Xenophilius laughed in anger. "So you made the decision for me to teach her these things? By what right?!"
"By the right that you didn't teach her," Caesar's voice suddenly turned cold, like a shard of ice scraping across glass. "By the fact that after Madam Pandora fell, you chose to immerse yourself in grief and self-exile."
"Instead of standing up to protect your remaining family and guiding your daughter, who possesses a rare talent yet is more fragile and lost because of it."
These words were like a poisoned dagger, accurately and ruthlessly stabbing into Xenophilius's deepest wound and his most unbearable guilt.
His face instantly turned as pale as paper, his lips trembling, yet he could make no sound.
Caesar pressed his advantage, his tone remaining steady, but every word carried a thousand pounds of weight:
"Luna needs to understand what her'sight' means. She needs to master her talent instead of being consumed by the fear and loneliness it brings."
"She needs power—not to do evil, but to protect herself and the people she cares about."
"Because you, Mr. Lovegood, made her realize one thing in the cruelest way possible:"
"In this world, no one can protect her forever, not even the parents who love her most."
"Wasn't Madam Pandora's accident precisely because of insufficient power, lack of protection, and recklessness in exploring the unknown?"
He leaned forward slightly, his deep gray eyes like a cold pond, reflecting Xenophilius's broken expression.
"I am merely teaching her what you failed to: how to recognize danger, how to build protection, and how to use unconventional methods to protect herself and those she loves when necessary."
"Every rune and every technique I teach her emphasizes safety prerequisites and the equivalence of cost."
"I am giving her tools, giving her choices, instead of leaving her in ignorant darkness as you have."
"Leaving her to be hurt and marginalized because of her 'difference,' or even... to follow in Pandora's footsteps."
The phrase 'follow in Pandora's footsteps' was like a final hammer blow, completely crushing Xenophilius.
He staggered back, hitting the wall, barely managing to stay upright.
He looked at Caesar, at that young face as cold as a stone carving, and at those eyes that didn't waver in the slightest.
His anger vanished, leaving only boundless, cold despair and a sense of self-abasement.
The boy's words were like a cruel mirror, reflecting his dereliction of duty, cowardice, and failure as a father.
Yes, he had failed to protect Pandora. And now, he couldn't protect Luna either.
He hadn't even known his daughter was learning so many dangerous things right under his nose.
Yet the youth before him, with a cold logic he couldn't refute, attributed it all to 'necessary teaching' and 'responsibilities he failed to fulfill.'
A massive sense of powerlessness and self-loathing overwhelmed him.
He slid down to the floor, back against the cold wall, covering his face with his hands as he let out suppressed whimpers like a wounded beast.
Caesar watched him break down quietly, his face devoid of any expression.
After a moment, he spoke again, his voice returning to its previous calm, even carrying a hint of formulaic concern.
"You need rest, Mr. Lovegood. As for Luna, I will temporarily suspend the 'lessons.' You should spend more time with her, in your own way."
"But remember," Caesar paused, his tone turning cold, "prohibition and isolation cannot solve the fundamental problem."
"Luna's talent will not disappear. Forcibly suppressing it will only cause it to explode in a more dangerous way one day."
"How to guide her is a choice you, as a father, must face now."
Having said that, he stood up, walked to the door, and pulled it open.
The intent to see the guest out was unmistakable.
Xenophilius didn't know how he left the Wilkes family home or how he returned to his own cold, damp house.
He slumped onto the old sofa in the living room, like a shell whose soul had been hollowed out.
It wasn't until evening that Luna returned from outside, bringing with her a chill and a small sense of excitement; she had successfully recorded the glowing pattern of a new type of nocturnal fungus today.
"Daddy?" Luna sensed the stagnant atmosphere in the living room. Seeing her father's deathly pale face and swollen eyes, her excitement vanished instantly, replaced by worry and unease.
Xenophilius slowly raised his head and looked at his daughter.
She was wearing that dark blue cloak, her pale blonde hair a bit messy, her small face flushed red from the cold wind, and her eyes clear, yet they seemed to hold something more than before.
A settled calmness that didn't belong to her age, or rather, a sense of detachment.
She was still clutching that Dark Arts book Caesar had given her, disguised as a fairy tale.
A mixture of heartache, anger, and despair surged into Xenophilius's head once more.
"Give me that book," he said hoarsely.
Luna froze, instinctively clutching the book tighter.
"And from today on," Xenophilius said word by word, using every ounce of his strength, "you are not allowed to see Caesar Wilkes again."
"You are not allowed to go to his house, not allowed to use that mirror to contact him, and not allowed to learn anything else he teaches you! Do you hear me?!"
Luna's eyes widened instantly, her pale silver-gray pupils filled with unbelievable shock, followed by a deeper panic and an offended resistance.
"Why?! Daddy! Caesar, he—"
"There is no why!"
Xenophilius suddenly raised his voice, coughing violently from the agitation. "I am your father!"
"If I say you're not allowed to see him, you're not allowed! The things he's teaching you... are wrong! They're dangerous! You'll ruin yourself!"
"Wrong?" Luna's voice rose too, carrying a sob and stubbornness. "He taught me to recognize the things others are afraid of!"
"He taught me to protect myself! He taught me to understand the world Mama once wanted to understand! He's helping me!"
"And you... you never understand! You just sit there and do nothing!"
His daughter's accusation was like a whip lashing Xenophilius's heart. He stood up abruptly, swaying from weakness, but his gaze was fierce:
"I don't understand? I understand all too well! Look at this!"
He pointed at the several scrolls of parchment and the eerie little doll he had brought back and thrown on the coffee table.
"This is the result of him 'helping' you! What are these?!"
"Luna, look closely! This is the edge of the Dark Arts!"
"He is dragging you into the darkness!"
"That's not the Dark Arts!" Luna retorted shrilly, tears finally falling. "That's knowledge! It's a way of understanding the world!"
"Mama would have done the same! You're just afraid! You're afraid of everything you don't understand, just like those people are afraid of me!"
These words stung Xenophilius to the core.
He raised his hand as if to strike her, but in the end, it only fell back down powerlessly.
Chapter 80: Do You Want Your Mother to Come Back?
He looked at her, seeing the undisguised disappointment and disapproval in his daughter's eyes, and that unwavering defense of Caesar.
He suddenly realized with absolute clarity that in this war for his daughter's heart and future, he had already suffered a crushing defeat.
During the years he had spent wallowing in his own misery, Caesar had long since occupied the position of the 'one who understands,' the 'guide,' and the 'only one who knows her value.'
"Go back to your room," he finally said wearily, his voice hoarse and broken. "Do not come out without my permission. And you are not... to see him again."
Luna stood where she was, tears flowing silently.
She looked at her enraged and desperate father, then at the dark green book in her arms.
Caesar's calm face, his patience when teaching her, that restrained embrace on the snowy night, his words "until the very last moment"... all of these formed a sharp and cruel contrast with her father's current tyranny, breakdown, and those accusations she could not agree with.
A clear and cold choice emerged in her nine-year-old mind like never before.
She did not argue further.
She just gave her father a deep look, one that was complex, containing sadness, disappointment, and a determined sense of detachment.
Then, clutching the book, she turned and walked up the stairs step by step in silence, returning to her room.
In the dead of night, all was silent. Xenophilius fell into a heavy sleep on the living room sofa, tear stains still on his face.
The window of Luna's room was pushed open a crack without a sound. A cold night wind poured in.
She had already changed into her outdoor clothes, her dark blue cloak wrapped tightly around her. the Shadow crouched quietly at her feet.
She stuffed several of her most important notebooks and the dark green book into a small bag and slung it over her shoulder.
Then, she climbed onto the windowsill, her movements a bit clumsy but exceptionally firm.
She looked back at the dim room, at the direction of the door—her father was there.
Then, she turned her head and looked out at the thick night, toward the window of the Wilkes familyhome next door, where a faint light glimmered.
Without hesitation, she grabbed the tangled branches of the old wisteria outside the window and carefully slid down.
the Shadow followed closely, landing lightly on the ground.
Her feet stepped onto the cold, damp grass.
Luna steadied herself, brushed the dust off her hands, and pulled the hood of her cloak tight, hiding her pale blonde hair and pale face.
She took one last look at the dark windows of her own home.
Then, with the Shadow, she walked through the sleeping garden without looking back, climbing over the low fence that had never truly blocked anything.
She walked toward that glimmer of light next door, toward the "one who understands" whom her father had forbidden, but whom her heart had chosen.
Snow began to fall sporadically again in the early spring night, quickly covering her small footprints.
Behind her, in the Lovegood Family Home, Xenophilius stirred uneasily on the sofa.
He let out a blurred, painful mumble in his sleep, still drowning in that broken dream from which he could neither wake nor recover... On a night in late June, the air was heavy and stagnant, without a hint of a breeze.
The crooked roof of the Lovegood Family Home cut a silent silhouette against the deep blue, almost black sky.
Caesar stood by the window in Luna's room, no lamp lit.
The moonlight stretched his tall figure into a sharp shadow that sliced diagonally into the room.
Luna sat on the edge of the bed.
She had just finished the "Perception Expansion" exercise Caesar had assigned; her bangs were damp with light sweat, sticking to her pale forehead.
A lingering hollowness from the magic consumption remained in her pale silver-grey eyes, along with a deep-seated confusion about the visions she had seen during the mirror practice.
Those fragments of whispers belonging to dark entities that had been "guided" out always left her with a faint, lingering palpitation afterward.
"I found something," Caesar said without turning around, his voice exceptionally clear in the silent room, like a stone dropped into a deep pool.
"In one of the oldest handwritten manuscript fragments of the Wilkes family. A very, very ancient ritual record, incomplete, but with a clear core direction."
Luna looked up at his back.
"It doesn't involve resurrection—that violates the laws of nature, and the cost is unimaginable."
Caesar turned slowly, the moonlight condensing into two clusters of cold flames in his deep grey eyes.
"But under specific conditions, it may briefly strengthen the 'dream resonance' between the living and those in a state of deep magical slumber.
The theoretical basis is the magical superposition of bloodline and intense longing, catalyzed by extreme celestial phenomena such as a total lunar eclipse; perhaps a crack can be chiseled open."
He took two steps closer, stopping in front of Luna, leaning down slightly as his gaze captured her eyes.
"Allow the consciousness of the sleeper, even if only a wisp, to briefly 'visit' the one with the deepest bloodline longing through the channel of dreams.
Just like... Her mother might be able to come back and see you in a particularly clear dream. To speak with you. Even if it's just one sentence."
Luna's breath hitched instantly.
The cushion in her arms slipped to the floor, and she didn't even notice.
Her pale silver-grey eyes widened suddenly, churning with unbelievable longing, fear, and a sudden, almost painful hope.
The hollow eyes of Her mother after she fell into slumber, the monotonous ticking of the hospital equipment, the loneliness of whispering to the wall in the dark countless times without receiving any response... all of these were easily shattered by the five words "come back and see you," then reassembled into a burning, desperate expectation.
"Is it... is it really possible?" Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, trembling.
Caesar straightened up, his tone returning to that academic calmness: "Ancient magic is full of 'possibilities' that modern Wizards cannot understand.
Just as Her mother believed Moon Jellyfish could reveal the future.
This ritual originates from a long-extinct ancient tribe that worshipped the 'Serpent of Dreams and Shadows'.
They believed dreams were rivers connecting life and death, waking and sleeping. The ritual itself is more like a strengthened, directional 'dream visitation'."
He walked back to the window, looking toward the moon in the sky that was gradually being eroded by a hint of dark red.
There was a total lunar eclipse tonight.
With his back to Luna, he said, "But any magic that transcends the norm requires a special 'medium' and 'price'.
This ritual requires the blood of a creature that... similarly wanders the edge of reality and dreams as a resonance agent.
The Moonlight Water Snake, a dark magical creature that is theoretically on the brink of extinction, or perhaps even just a legend.
They live in the specific intersection of extremely pure magical waters and moonlight, feeding on the residues of dreams; their blood possesses rare dream-conducting properties."
He turned around, his face expressionless, save for a sharp glint of a progressing plan deep in his eyes.
"I know of a place.
In a secret magical creature sanctuary in Wiltshire, at the edge of the innermost forbidden zone, there is a Moonshadow Marsh that fits the records.
In the sanctuary's records, there were reports of suspected Moonlight Water Snake skin-shedding traces in the middle of the last century. This is the closest lead."
Luna's heart pounded like a drum.
The hope was so immense it was almost terrifying.
Infiltrating a magical creature sanctuary?
Searching for a legendary creature that might not exist? Taking its blood?
The dangers and moral concerns brought by these thoughts were fragile and easily crushed in the face of her longing for even a wisp of Her mother's consciousness.
More chapters available on wtr-lab