She was like sunshine, a brightness found in the dark.


Sunshine

Ginny Weasley was like fire; she was passionate and quick to temper. At times she was calm and docile, like a candle flame, at others she was warm and cozy, like a campfire. Sometime she was wild and raging, much like a forest fire. Dean had loved her, or at least he thought he had.

But Ginny Weasley was like fire, and Dean Thomas had gotten burnt.

Deep down he'd known that it was always Harry; it was always going to be Harry freaking Potter who'd win. He didn't know it when he asked her out and when he realised that might be something more than friendship between them, he held on hoping that if Dean was kind enough, and helpful enough, she'd love him more and she'd choose him. He didn't mean to stifle her independence or make her feel weak; it was her strength that he fell in love with. He just wanted to look after her, show that he loved her. He wanted to give her a reason to love him.

The break happened so fast, he didn't even understand what had caused it to be over. He insisted he didn't do what she said, he insisted that someone had bumped into him, but he lost. He couldn't prove it, and in the end Dean Thomas got burnt.

Next thing he knew she was snogging Harry Potter in the Gryffindor Common Room. He expected it to happen sooner or later, but Merlin; they could have done somewhere private. And he was really hoping it would be later.

He didn't bother with love after that; he didn't really have the time. Dumbledore's death had made the War so much worse, and he couldn't prove he was magical, so he had to go on the run. It made it hard to find love.

He'd never been so scared, on the day he was captured. He honestly thought that maybe that would be it; he was going to die in that cellar at Malfoy Manor. And there she was.

Luna Lovegood was like sunshine, her essence a radiant glow in the dark that was the Malfoy cellar.

Or should that be moonlight?

Even though he was artist by nature, he sometimes felt like a poet. The way he thought about things, the way the words just came. Perhaps all artists, whether they are painters, writers or actors, thought in the same beautiful artistic language. And artistic language was something that Luna Lovegood understood.

After they were rescued by Harry, they started to bond. They both loved to draw and paint. Dean was surprised in himself, because even though he'd never bullied her, he also had never given her much time of day. He found something blissful in their time together at Shell Cottage, sometimes they would talk but mostly they would draw together and compare art. He was fascinated by her quirks, and found her theories endearing. She was sweet, kind and understanding. He also understood that behind all that was a strong girl, he saw just how strong and just how talented she was during the Final Battle. She'd have to be strong with all the taunting she'd gotten at Hogwarts. Looney Lovegood; she wasn't a lunatic, she was unique. She was Luna.

He remembers the first time he corrected Seamus on her name, after the battle, when they returned to Hogwarts because they'd missed out on so much in their seventh year. It's Luna; not Looney. It was at the point when he realised he'd fallen for her. Those few months they'd been alone at Shell Cottage, they'd been the best for a long time, and that thought of losing made him realise that she was the sunshine he needed to light up his life.

He didn't tell her though. Part of him was afraid he'd be rejected, or he'd do something to ruin it. That he'd get burnt again. The sun really was just a giant gassy ball of fire, and that's were sunlight came from, wasn't it? He didn't really talk to her again for a while after that, until she approached him shortly before the end of the school year, with graduation just around the corner. She demanded to know why he'd been avoiding her, something that startled him because it was so out of character. Luna didn't demand anything. She was patient, she waited, and she was genuine about finding her own way of getting what she wanted. She didn't need to demand. He kissed her. She kissed back. He stopped avoiding her.

Over the years Dean had noticed that Luna was certainly not a traditionalist. So it was to no surprise that as she walked down the aisle towards him, that she was not wearing a white dress, but instead a yellow and gold one. He smiled to himself as he thought about her the dress was really Luna.

Her name may have meant the moon, but to Dean, Luna Lovegood was pure sunshine.


While I am a huge Neville/Luna shipper, I have a soft spot for Dean/Luna, even if its just friendship after their ordeal at Malfoy Manor. And so, I decided to write something. It didn't turn out exactly as I imagined at the time, like, I didn't intend for them to get married but hey, that's how it happened.

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