A/N: This is a gift for Cheeky Slytherin, and I hope that she likes it all right. I've never written for either of these characters, let alone this pairing, so I hope that it came out alright. I hope that she doesn't mind it being an AU either, but this is the plot-bunny that bit me and wouldn't let go. xD
She is ice; pale and white and distant.
He is fire; bright and loud and very, very there.
That is what Hogwarts Highschool makes of their two newest students. That they are opposites, completely and utterly, with nothing in common. Not fear, not doubt, not love.
They are different in every way but one -
"No! No! Please, don't take her away from me!" cries the boy, and he is young and lanky. Only ten at the time but born into a world so cruel, too cruel, no child should have to see their mother slain before them.
Yet here, in this world, in this time, it is normal. Normal for anyone that dares to defile the purity of their blood.
So, when Dean pleads and begs and falls to his knees, the Death Eaters do not even glance in his direction. He will be given a chance, they decide, to fall into line and be a good influence.
If he doesn't, then they will kill him too.
The first week passes, and views change very little.
She is frost; light and white and easy, so very easy, to brush aside.
He is heat; dark and smooth and prominant.
They meet up once, in the hallway, for just a moment. She runs into him and he laughs and helps her up, as though it was his fault. He gathered up their papers and she commented on the Gnarkspurck sitting on his shoulder and he laughed again.
The school decided that it was a fluke, and they would certainly never get along.
Too many differences -
"Mother?" questions the young girl, no older than ten, as she peers into the building reserved for her mother's research.
A loud scream, telling her to go away, to run, to hide, that is her only answer. Luna has never been good at listening though, and pushes the door open the rest of the way. She is greeted with the sight of three men, in black cloaks and white masks, one with a pistol pointed at her mother's head. The other two look at her and she swears, even though she cannot see, that they sneer at her.
"Luna, baby, Mommy's fine." coos the woman, and her voice is trembling. She holds a piece of paper in her hand and Luna knows that paper. It's her mother's research document, that she has spent so many long hours working on.
"Mother? What's going on?" asks Luna, because she is young and sheltered but not scared, never scared, not the brave Lovegood child.
Silence for a moment, and then Luna's mother cracks a smile.
"I'm not giving in Luna, and you shouldn't either. Know that I love you, that I've always loved you, and don't ever break for them!"insists the older Lovegood, whom Luna is a mere echo of in looks, and then she tears the paper in two and the trigger is pulled and there is red, so much red, but Luna doesn't scream.
Two months pass by, and the students of Hogwarts Highschool begin to change their minds.
She is snow now; cold yet soft, white yet tainted, unheard yet never forgotten.
He is the sun now; dark yet needed, wild yet controlled, wanted yet never given.
Every evening, they eat lunch together, the boy and the girl. They share a table, share a tray, share a talk. Ideas pass between them, fluid and unhinged, but they never touch. Never brush on their pasts, on their families, on their homes.
So the other students, who have not suffered the same fate as these two, decide that they can be nothing more than friends.
There is still too much between them that isn't the same -
When his mother passes away, Dean's father leaves him and his remaining family. So they pack up and head out, moving halfway across the world to live with an aunt and an uncle. All five of them, with Dean being the oldest and Milo, only two and a half, being the youngest.
It's fine at first, because Dean isn't alone and they aren't on the streets.
Things change quickly though. His aunt and uncle are old and cannot take care of the younger children, so that task falls to him. He is forgotten and brushed aside and tries hard not to resent that fact.
Tries, but cannot help it.
It's been almost a complete semester, and the boy and the girl are clearly more than what they originally seemed.
She is the mist; ever-changing, ever-trying, ever-different.
He is the fog; always dense, always trying, always there.
They are cut from the same cloth -
Luna's father changes after her mother's death and she does not like it. Doesn't like the way he looks around, eyes wide and vapid, seeing but doing nothing. Doesn't like how he putters through the house but never cleans, or cooks, or even truly lives. Doesn't like how he withdrawls into a fantasy world that is of his own creation.
Doesn't like it, but deals with it and obliges him. Around her, she spins her own web of lies and reasons for her mother's death. Witches, wizards, wrackspurts, they are all a part of this made-up world of hers. Of his. Of theirs.
Soon, the lies are too thick to see through.
Soon, she cannot decipher reality from fantasy.
She knows that he is real though; the heavy hand on her shoulder, the warmth in his smile, the deep velvetine that serves as his laugh. They are things that, no matter how great her imagination, she could never make up.
He knows that she will never forget him though; the way she shows up at his soccer games, the hugs that they share, the light chiming of her laughter. They let him know that someone still cares for him as his own person. That, to her, he is still important.
So the students of Hogwarts Highschool watch on in wonder, trying to figure out how two students so very different from each other can have grown so close.
Luna and Dean just smile at each other and get lost in a world all of their own.