Summary: Babies are never "its."
"—crying!" Lorcan was shouting, as he came barrelling out of the woods. "I think it's broken!"
With Rolf at her heels, Luna picked up her skirts and ran, following Lorcan into the woods to where Lysander was kneeling before the low hollow of an old tree. Inside the hollow, there was a screaming goblin babe flailing in a bed of moss and dried leaves.
"I was afraid to touch it, Mum."
Luna knelt down beside him and gently brushed away the debris covering the baby. "Babies are never 'its', Lysander. You were afraid to touch her, see?"
"Get away from my family, goblin!" Rolf demanded, as Luna began Healing the babe's leg.
"But she's nothing to you!"
Luna spelled away the babe's pain and cleansed her with a charm before gathering her up in her arms and turning to face the goblin. "Her mother's dead?"
"Yes, and the unnamed child must follow her to the grave, as is our way."
"No!" Lorcan shouted, as Lysander picked up a stick and brandished it at the goblin.
"What is this 'finders keepers'?"
"Ancient wizarding children's law," Luna told the goblin, glancing questioningly at Rolf.
"Come lay hands upon her, boys," Luna told her family. "That's right." Addressing the goblin, she said, "Sylvia Magnilda Scamander has a name. Hear it. Know it. And leave her to us. She is ours, now."
The goblin's eyes widened. "You claim the child? You're . . . you're mad. You're all mad!"
"And you're not part of this family, so go," Rolf ordered.
Spluttering obscenities, the goblin left them.
In the resultant silence, Luna said, "Well, we've been called worse."
"Yeah, but never anything as bad as Magnilda, I bet."
"Lorcan's right, Mum, said Lysander. "It's a perfectly horrid name."
"Well, it's hers now, and I won't have you teasing her about it, understand?"
Rolf chuckled and sheathed his wand, leaning down to kiss Luna's head. "They wouldn't dare, darling."