HP: Transmigrating as an Obscurial

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I did some overhauls to the lore about the Lovegood since I finally found the cannon material the translation was referring to. The main changes are in the 2nd half of Chapter 17

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Lovegood House, Ottery St. Catchpole

On a bright morning, the pink-blue curtains swayed gently with the breeze.

Golden sunlight filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over the bedroom floor like a dusting of golden sand.

"Hmm..." A soft murmur, barely louder than a whisper, escaped the girl's lips as she stirred awake.

Luna slowly sat up, her long, light-golden hair cascading down like a waterfall. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, stretched lazily, and gazed at the sky outside her window.

"What a lovely day," she mused, her voice light as the morning air.

Descending the spiral staircase, her eyes drifted toward the closed door down the hall. The soft smile on her lips faded.

That door had remained shut since yesterday.

Yesterday was the first day of school at Hogwarts. She reminded herself, as if repeating it would help her accept it. Next year, it'll be my turn.

In the dining room, Xenophilius Lovegood was already seated. His usually wild, silvery hair was even more unkempt than usual, a charcoal pencil tucked behind his ear, and a writing board in his hands as he sketched out ideas for the next issue of The Quibbler.

"Luna, today is a perfect day for painting," he remarked, bringing over a plate of breakfast.

Luna took her seat and picked up her fork, nodding. "Yes, the sky looks just like a stretched-out blue curtain."

The only sounds in the room were the soft scratching of charcoal on parchment and the occasional clink of silverware against plates. A peaceful, quiet morning.

After a while, Xenophilius set down his writing board and studied his daughter carefully. "Luna, are you feeling alright? You've barely touched your breakfast."

"I'm fine, Dad," Luna answered softly. Meeting his worried gaze, she gave a small shake of her head.

She didn't want him to worry. So, in her usual way, she changed the subject effortlessly.

"Is the new issue ready yet?" she asked, her voice light and curious. "I can't wait to see it."

Xenophilius perked up instantly. "Oh, the last issue got a great response! That boy Vizet has some real creativity!" he said excitedly. "We've been getting even more article submissions lately."

"Especially for the 'Hometown Specialties' section — people seem to love it! Some readers even sent in samples of their local finds. I mixed a little into the bread for breakfast." He gestured toward the plate.

Luna tilted her head slightly. "What kind of samples?"

"A contributor sent us a special honey made by bees that gather nectar from laurel trees. Supposedly, eating it brings good luck," Xenophilius explained with enthusiasm. "You should try it! What do you think?"

Luna forked a small piece of bread, placed it in her mouth, and let the taste settle on her tongue.

"So this was Vizet's idea?" she murmured to herself before offering a small, knowing smile.

"I think it tastes wonderful."

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Luna's days passed as they always had, flowing like the steady rhythm of a honeybee tending to a vast garden.

The owl, Diana, fluttered nearby, chirping a cheerful tune.

She moved through her daily tasks with ease — collecting dew, loosening the soil, watering the flowers, feeding the creatures around her. There was still joy in these moments, but it felt... different. As if something was missing.

"Mistletoe and dirigible plums are growing well. No sign of nymph hooks," Luna murmured as she carefully plucked a ripe plum from the vine.

"Vizet, do you know about nymph hooks?" she asked, more out of habit than anything else. "Dad told me they're tiny creatures, a bit like maggots. When they're young, they have 3,000 teeth, and as they grow older, they get even more."

"They also have three eyes and little sickle-shaped hooks on their tails — hence the name. Isn't that interesting, Vizet?"

She paused, waiting for the soft, thoughtful response she had grown used to.

Only silence answered.

The wind rustled the leaves around her, but it wasn't the voice she was hoping for.

Luna lowered her hand, gazing at the plums in her palm.

Ah. That's right.

"He's at Hogwarts now."

Her voice was barely a whisper as she turned toward the distant stream.

She wandered to the riverbank and sat down, watching the water flow over smooth stones. The sunlight shimmered across its surface, flickering and shifting, much like her thoughts.

It's only been a day, yet it feels... empty.

She stared at her reflection in the water, her pale blue eyes lost in thought.

"There are more Wrackspurts today," she murmured to herself.

It was a familiar feeling — one she had known before. Time would smooth it out. Give her a few days, and she would adjust.

She always did.

The sky remained the same brilliant blue. The stream still carried its gentle ripples downstream. Everything around her was unchanged — yet she felt as though she had drifted just a little further from it all.

Luna sat there for a long while, staring into the water, until the sudden sound of flapping wings broke her thoughts.

A hoarse, familiar hoot.

She turned quickly.

Above her, an owl with a large cloth bag clutched in its talons swooped in like a rickety propeller plane, wings wobbling as it lost altitude.

"Sol!"

She leaped to her feet just as the exhausted owl nearly tumbled into the stream.

With quick hands, she caught him mid-fall, cradling his feathery body against her chest.

"I've got you," she whispered, brushing her fingers gently over his drooping crest.

Sol let out a weak "Coo," then immediately buried his face in her sleeve, his body heavy with exhaustion.

"You must be so tired," Luna murmured. "Carrying all these things from Hogwarts to here... Thank you, Sol."

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Back home, the rich aroma of stew filled the air as Xenophilius Lovegood placed a steaming pot on the table. He had just taken off his apron when he spotted Luna walking in.

"I was just about to come looking for you! Why were you out so late?" he asked, tilting his head.

Luna carefully set the cloth bag down before lifting Sol in her arms. Her voice was light with excitement.

"I met Sol!"

"That boy actually remembered to send a letter back?" Xenophilius raised an eyebrow as he reached over, taking the weary owl from Luna's hands. "Poor thing looks like he flew halfway across the world."

"I'll find him something to perk him up. You open the letter and see what he wrote."

Luna nodded and turned to the heavy cloth bag.

The moment she opened it, she understood why Sol was so exhausted.

Two large boxes of snacks sat at the top, their weight alone enough to tire any bird. Beneath them lay an envelope — thick parchment sealed with wax.

Her fingers traced the handwriting across the front:

To Luna and Mr. Lovegood

She noticed something curious. The words "and Mr. Lovegood" were spaced farther apart, as if they had been added in afterward.

A soft warmth spread in her chest.

She placed her hand over her heart, feeling its quiet rhythm.

Then, gently, she broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

Dear Luna and Mr. Lovegood,

Sol brought me a bag of Chocolate Frogs. They taste wonderful, so I wanted to share them with you and Mr. Lovegood.

Hogwarts is beautiful and full of magic. There are so many fascinating things here that I can hardly put them into words.

But I suppose it doesn't matter, since you'll be coming to Hogwarts next year. We'll be able to explore together then.

How are the mistletoe and dirigible plums back home? They should be ripening soon.

I remember when we were fertilizing the garden last time, you mentioned something about nymph hooks. What exactly are they? You wouldn't tell me then, and I'm still curious.

There's so much to tell you about Hogwarts. I hope you won't find me too long-winded if I write to you often.

P.S.

Say hello to Mr. Lovegood for me.

I hope everything is well with you.

— Vizet Lovegood

The letter was plain and simple.

And yet, perhaps because of that simplicity, it felt warm. Close.

In Luna's mind, Vizet was not someone who shone like the sun — bright and dazzling for all to see.

He was like the wind. Quiet. Gentle. Always there, silently accompanying her.

With him, she never needed to hold anything back. She could speak her thoughts freely, and he would listen — accepting it all as naturally as breathing.

Luna reached into the bag and unwrapped a Chocolate Frog. The silky, rich chocolate melted over her tongue, filling her mouth with warmth and sweetness.

She held the letter close, letting the words settle inside her heart.

"Well? Well? What did he say?"

Xenophilius' voice broke the moment. He had returned, Sol now perched drowsily on his shoulder. The owl had recovered enough energy to clutch onto his sleeve and take a nap.

"Luna, are you going to write him back?" Xenophilius asked, after quickly reading the letter, then huffed. "And while you're at it, tell that boy next time not to put 'and' in front of my name like an afterthought!"

Luna giggled. "Okay, Dad."

She carefully folded the letter, tucking it away safely, then reached for her art supplies from the nearby cabinet.

Xenophilius frowned. "What are you doing? Lunch is ready!"

Luna was already halfway up the stairs.

"You said it yourself, Dad!" she called back with a smile. "Today is a perfect day for drawing!"