Luna Lovegood's Arc

Chapter 17 of 19

The next morning came, and so did the crowd Luna feared. Not a dozen this time. Wizards spilled across the field in bright robes, more arriving by the minute. They had come without warning, without asking, tramping toward the tree line. Luna stood at the forest edge and watched the grass fill with strangers. If they surged forward now, the mother Snorkack would flee and never return. Worse, the creature had already smelled them once. Luna felt its trust thinning like ice in spring. She knew the signs. Yesterday the mother had come slowly, ears flat, testing the air before every step. One reckless wizard could break the last thread. Luna could not turn crowds away forever by shouting. She needed a system. A way to let people watch without ruining the very thing they came to see. So she built one. Luna led the wizards deep into the trees, away from the open field, to a pavilion beneath a great cherry tree. Pink blossoms drifted over its curved roof. The spot sat far enough from the herd's nesting ground to keep the creatures calm, close enough that they might still come. "Here," Luna said. "You wait here. Not in the field. Here." She set the rules plainly. Only she would carry the sugared gurdyroot. Only she would step past the pavilion pillars. The rest would sit under the blossoms, wands dark, voices low. She placed her father's harp near the edge and taught two witnesses the slow tune that soothed distressed Snorkacks. "If the herd grows nervous, play this," she said. "It buys us time." Then she raised her wand, the one that sensed where the creatures had walked, and traced the fresh path they must not cross. The wizards grumbled at first. One man wanted to move closer. Luna held her ground. "You broke the rule, you leave," she said. He sat down. Then Luna walked out alone, gurdyroot cupped in her palm. She waited. The pavilion held its breath behind her. Minutes passed. At last the mother stepped from the shadow of the tangled trunks, striped coat bright against the dark. It crossed the grass, calm now, unhurried by the distant, seated crowd. It ate from Luna's hand. The wizards watched from beneath the blossoms and did not move. The creature turned and slipped back into the forest, unafraid. It worked. The pavilion had held. The Snorkack's trust survived a crowd because Luna had given the crowd a place and a rule. The mother would come again. But as the wizards filed out, whispering, Luna saw a woman in Ministry robes at the back. She had not come to watch. She held a scroll and studied the pavilion, the harp, the whole quiet system Luna had built. "This cannot stay a private show," the woman said. "The Ministry will want it managed. Officially." Luna's stomach tightened. She had tamed the crowd. Now the Ministry meant to take her field from her.