"Mum..." She whimpered, stepping forward, hand halfway outstretched, confused of whether or not to touch her. "Mum?" She asked again, tilting her head, feeling tears prickle her eyes.

A limp, white body sat in front of her. No movement was made from it; no breath was taken. The eyes were still open, but had a vacant look behind them, not the usual liveliness that she usually saw come from her mother--the liveliness that she had previewed just moments ago. No... they were empty. And staring right at her.

The cold stare that came from the eyes made Luna wonder if her mother was mad at her. It made her seem as though she were mad that, instead of Luna being in the way of the tragic spell, it had been her. Her! The brilliant witch who everybody had adored and looked up to. She had done so much for the wizarding world, had accomplished so much and had many achievements...

It made Luna wonder if now was really her mother's time to go. Or if she was merely snatched away from her, ruthlessly, before it was truly her time.

Falling to her knees, Luna slowly crawled over to her mother's side. Resting a hand on her chest, searching for the heartbeat, she took in three deep breaths. Of course she should find a heartbeat! It was a simple spell that mother had done, and it had just knocked her out, was all. After a few moments of searching, she had felt nothing. Not the vibrating thump of a beating heart that usually came from a living person's chest, not the up-and-down motion that was always made so that one could breathe... none of it.

Tears no longer prickled her eyes; they fell freely, dripping down her cheeks and falling on to her mother's own cheeks. Now more than ever she felt so pathetic, sitting there, clutching her mother's dead body, crying over her, whimpering "Mommy..." over and over again... how people would pity her if they heard of this.

No matter how much she tried, she couldn't raise her voice to the limit she needed to call for help. When she tried, nothing but a scratched croak would come out. A powerless feeling overwhelmed her, and she continued to cry even more at how she was failing to help her mother. "Mum, wake up..." She whispered, the familiar feeling of pity for her own self clouding up her thoughts again.

"Please, Mum..."

A week later, the nine-year-old would pause before an open casket. Her large, gray eyes, filled with confusion and agony, stared at her mother. Her eyes were now closed, and make-up had been placed all over her to make her look lively. But Luna knew that she was dead. People would step forward, a smile on their faces, and touch her hand. They would give a last whisper of farewell to her mother, and then walk away, leaving it at that. Peace filled all of them, knowing that they had said their final good-bye to the famous witch, and had not just ignored her death as many others did.

Luna felt none of this peace. Though she would kneel in front of the casket, take hold of her mother's limp, clammy hand, and whisper soothing words to her mother, she felt no peace enter her soul as she would stand up and back away. She was leaving her mother to rot in the ground, as far as she was concerned. And a mere whisper of good-bye didn't feel good enough; it would take so much more to finally leave her mother, knowing that she was gone forever, and feel tranquility in her soul.

A single red rose was in her hand. It was supposed to be from one of the many flower bouquets that had been sent to them. It had been the single rose in the whole pack of them that had not had its thorns removed—an accident, most likely. Her fingers had clung to it delicately, making sure not to crush its beautiful petals or break its stem, nor to prick her finger on a thorn and draw blood. But now, her hand clenched the stem with all her might, wrapped in a fist.

"Mum..." She whispered, closing her eyes. Tears prickled her eyes once more, and began to drip down her cheeks, just as they had a week ago. Suddenly, a pain ran through her hand. She would open her eyes, look at her hand, and remember how hard she clenched the rose. The thorns punctured her skin, and, as she let out a gasp, she let go of it.

The rose was now dripping with blood. It fell to the floor and stains were left, thanks to the blood that dripped from the thorns. Luna would cradle her hand, and step farther away from the rose and the casket.

"Luna." Came a soft, male voice, along with a large, warm hand on her shoulder. Turning, she saw her father. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, sniffling. Using her wrist, she would wipe away her tears. Looking into her father's eyes, she felt more pain than ever. Both of them were alone now, without mother; the last time either of them would ever see her would be while she was in a casket, pale and weak, no smile on her usual cherry-red lips. The last time either of them would catch a glimpse of mother would be when she was dead.

"Oh, Dad..." She whimpered, stepping forward and hugging him. "I don't want Mum to be gone."

Father would stroke her hair, before kneeling down so that he could come face-to-face with his young daughter. Raising a hand to her cheek, a weak smile spread across his own face. Large, deep blue eyes stared into her gray eyes, and they would water just from looking at her.

"Luna, your mother will never be gone." He began. "She will always be watching over you..."

"From heaven?" Luna asked, tilting her head. Father had never known much about religion, coming from a pureblood family. Mother had come from a half-blood family, so had come to be a slightly religious person. But he understood about Heaven, Hell, and all of that. He nodded.

"Yes, from heaven... and, even if she is..." He struggled with that single word. "...Dead... well, she will always be in Heaven, watching you, and loving you. And if you ever need help, she'll help you. You won't always know it, but she will. And as long as we save our memories, Luna, your mother will never be gone. She'll always be in your heart. And maybe one day we'll see her again."

"In heaven?" She asked again, a smile beginning to form across her lips. He nodded.

"In heaven."

Luna turned away and picked up the rose, the blood now beginning to dry on it. She would walk to her mother's casket, and lean over to get a good look at her. There she was, not breathing, not smiling, and not looking at anyone or anything in the room. The pain of losing her would always remain, for the rest of her life, until the day that she would meet her mother again on what she knew as 'the other side'.

A frown was on her face again as she looked at her mother's face. Wondering exactly how to say good-bye, she thought back on how her mother would usually leave someone. Then, at the mere thought of her mother saying good-bye, Luna would smile.

As her mother had once said, Luna would repeat her, "Until we meet again, Mum." Reaching her fist into the casket, she would loosen her grip and unwrap her fingers, allowing the rose to fall on her mother's chest.

"Yes, it was rather horrible," said Luna conversationally. "I still feel very sad about it sometimes. But I've still got Dad. And anyway, it's not as though I'll never see Mum again, is it?" –Quote from OotP

Rawr! Luna Lovegood is by far the coolest character of Harry Potter, and my favorite character a well! I'm a depressing one-shot writer, aren't I? Heehee. Anyway, Luna said that when she was nine when her mother died, so I decided to write a one-shot about it. Poor Luna. Losing her mother, and at such a young age... -sniffle.- So, here you go, with another one of my one-shots! If you read, please review! And sorry if Luna seems not normal, or, err, normal, if you think about it. I just think that, if you really experience something like this, that a person wouldn't act like they normally would.