Ah, the ficlet. So much can be hinted at with such a short bit of fiction. I like writing long stories, but at the same time, some of the best stories I've read are ficlets of small moments in a characters' life. I prefer the ones that are intense, random, life-turning moments. Thus, that's what this is, along with being one of my favorite obscure fic-ships. Stand alone and one-time. You and I might not be privy to the tension that built up between these two since the presumed 'final showdown between good and evil', but it quite obviously was there. And yes, I was listening to the Great Expectations soundtrack when this came to me. Mmm, Kissing In The Rain...
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It was raining in London. A not so very surprising event, and yet it seemed ever so fitting to the girl who had apparated to St. Mungo's in the downpour on the night of Ginny Weasley's birthday party. The sky was still in mourning. Even with as few moments spent in the open air as possible, Luna was drenched through to the skin that hot August night, catching her breath in the familiar halls of the hospital. The night nurse didn't even look up as she rushed past, white sundress dress, tights and rainbow knit scarf clinging and leaving droplets and puddles in her wake, smelling of irises.
She swung into a hospital room that was filled with roses, Wizarding photographs waving from the grounds of Hogwarts and a Ginger cat that could be trusted to stay in that holy room, curled up at the feet of The Boy Who Lived. Luna let out a relieved breath, resting her head against the doorframe. Sitting at Harry's bedside, watching the boy who'd been silent and still for months, was her quarry.
"Remus," She said softly, under ashy hair that clung to her brow and shoulders, stepping into the room quietly. Remus Lupin looked up with a start, chin rising from its place resting on his crossed fingers, "Everyone was so worried…"
"I didn't think anyone would notice," He murmured back in a dreamy tone that was not unlike Luna's usual. The Moon Child gave him a ghost of a smile as she reached out, scratching Crookshanks behind the ears.
"You left quite abruptly," The girl who was Ginny's best friend reminded him.
"They sent you to look for me?" His voice was only mildly curious, but far away in himself, he did wonder. Luna shook her head,
"I volunteered," She said simply, through a shudder of her teeth as her body became aware of the hospital's cooling charms. Remus stared at her for a long moment, as the rain and white linen left almost nothing to the imagination. The girl really did need to work on that, her habit of being so oblivious to the fact that she often drove him to distraction. He swallowed, tearing his eyes away from her and handing over the rain jacket he'd worn outside. Luna slipped it over her shoulders without a word.
"I couldn't stay," Remus said softly, biting his lip as he stared off into some unknown place on the wall above Harry's bed, "He should be there today,"
"Yes," Luna nodded, hugging her arms across her stomach, after pushing lank hair out of her face.
"I began thinking of…others," He went on distantly, the scars on his face quite dim in the low light. Luna had always thought them distinguished, "Who missed birthdays. Everything is over now though, things were supposed to be different," His voice faltered for a moment, "And yet Ginny Weasley is still turning seventeen with her fiancé in a damn coma."
"He will return to us," Luna whispered, repeating what she'd said so often to Ginny it was getting stale in her mouth, "One is gone forever, the other lives, he cannot stay this way forever," Remus shook his head,
"It is still too long," He let out an agitated sigh, running a hand roughly through faded hair, "And then it was no longer about Miss Weasley, it was about my selfish old pains and memories," And the last bit of a childhood friend slipping away, "And so I left before Molly could notice,"
"She noticed," Was all Luna said aloud, though her eyes fixed themselves on his face. Remus looked back at her, breathing in her gaze. Luna sucked in a breath, looking away, down at the ginger cat, "I think you should let him rest," She whispered. Remus stood, slowly, looking at Harry one last time.
"I can't go back to the party," He replied, when he'd reached her side, facing her shoulder. Luna became transfixed with the collar of his shirt, crisp blue cotton undone at the neck, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. She licked her bottom lip in a pensive manner,
"The party was winding down when I left the Burrow," She whispered, "Ginny went to bed early," And oh how Luna knew what the morning would be like. There would be tears and cursing fate all over again in the muggy heat, and then more of this pretending that everything was wonderful and safe and secure, when all they really wanted to do was drown. Everyone in their world was enjoying freedom. They were enjoying the merciless sweetness of memories of those they'd lost, and the one they were still clinging to. Remus reached over suddenly, grasping her hand, his breath a muggy warmth by her ear, her wet hair,
"We don't have to go back yet," He whispered, and Luna's eyes slid shut against the room, against the weariness of weeks and weeks of waiting for so many things. The tension of wanting that one perfect moment to return, when one was supposed to enjoy this freedom they'd all won. It hadn't come. She had waited and waited and it hadn't come. Turning her head, opening her eyes, she realized it hadn't come for him either.
"We don't…"
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She could not have told herself why they didn't apparate. Perhaps it was the feel of that polluted, cleansing rain on their flesh that made everything seem clean. Clinging to his hand as her pulled her through the streets however, Luna lost track of quite a few thoughts that so often crowded her mind. Perhaps they did apparate whilst running through the streets.
Remus pulled Luna into the relative shelter of his stoop, pressed against the wall. He froze, staring at her for a time, and she at him, eyes wide and wondering and only marginally afraid, watching water droplets fall through his hair. And then his lips were at her throat, scarf pealed away, drinking in the taste of sweat and overly sweet raindrops, hands gripping at the sodden white linen of her hips. He kissed her lips, a fierce attack to which she responded with shaking arms around his neck. Her first kiss, in the torrential downpour of August, a bruising sweet outpouring of tension and grief and want. He pulled away, gasping, "Inside," He breathed, opening the door to his building, and that was the last coherent communication uttered for the night.
White shoes and white stocking were rolled off and left in a heap by his bedroom door, next to a stack of particularly dusty tomes on magical history, books belonging to the man that had not let instincts overtake him in human form for many, many years. Until now, when he had Luna Lovegood in his bed, her bare legs wrapped around him as he pealed the sodden white dress from her slim frame and over her head, leaving her pale and damp and bare to the humid night. He would drown in those large eyes, which regarded him with such fearful trust, and then slid shut in as yet unrealized bliss as he ran his fingers along her spine, pressing kisses to her shoulder, wondering at the sweetness of colored veins crossing under the white skin at her delicate hipbones. She whispered his name when he ran a hand over one small breast, replacing the touch with his lips when he'd pushed her back against the pillows.
Luna had never wanted for a feeling like this more, this succumbing to instinct and want, the thrum of blood in her ears as he kissed her again, tongues greeting, after she'd picked up their natural rhythm. He was dizzying as he kissed and touched and drank in the water on her flesh, but at that crucial point of no return he paused, looking into her eyes for a good long time before he entered her, slowly and with his hand tangled in her long wet hair. Luna winced, before letting out a sigh, hands gripping his shoulders as he moved inside of her. Once again she picked up their pulse, moving in time, senses filled with the sound of the rain beating against the windows, the smell of his skin, his breathing ragged as he found her lips with his own, and the feel of his scars under her fingers, while he breathed her name into her ear…
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It was still raining the next morning. It might have gone quite differently, their morning after, had it not been for the letter. Luna awoke alone, sitting up with the alarm of half-forgotten dreams. When she saw him she blushed, tucking her hair behind her ears and hugging her knees. He was standing by the window, which was open to allow for an Owl to go back to wherever it had come from. He seemed engrossed by what he read; clad only in the trousers she'd once helped him out of with trembling hands. Luna bit her lip, running toes over the sheets, touching one place, a tiny spot of blood. He was not looking at her.
"He woke up," Remus' voice finally broke her from her confused mess of thoughts. Luna let out a belated gasp. Remus turned to look at her, grinning. The grin faltered at her posture, so vulnerable and trembling in the shoulder area. He was no romantic. And until last night, he was not one to be so very rash, and might have regretted things. But in that moment, so very many things were right again, including this. He was standing at her side of the bed swiftly, wrapping an arm around her, kissing the top of her head softly, shutting his eyes, "We'll go to see him," He whispered, a hand running up and down her bare arm, "And then we'll get breakfast,"
"Breakfast would be most agreeable," Luna grinned, after Remus kissed her softly on the lips. Her eyes drifted to the still sopping, crumpled white party dress on the floor. Remus smirked,
"And you can wear one of my shirts,"
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Authors Notes: I love writing kicks!