"I want to go," murmurs Luna into Harry's ear. He turns toward her and props his head on his hand.

"I want you to go," he answers, and it's the truth—she can see the desire masking the pain in his eyes.

"But wanting isn't enough," sighs Luna.

Harry sighs in agreement and lays on his back. She drapes an arm over his chest, wishing it would be enough to keep him with her. She places her chin on his chest.

"I'll miss you," she mutters, and she kisses his lips.

Tonight they're closer than ever.

Tomorrow's a new day.

I'm miles from where you are

He misses her more than he thought was possible, which is saying something, as he thought he'd miss her more than he'd ever missed anyone.

Ron remains ignorant of this; Harry can depend on him to miss feelings altogether.

Hermione, however, notices.

"Harry," her voice whispers one night, after Ron has fallen asleep. "What's wrong?"

"I miss Luna," he mutters back. "I love her."

He expects a shocked gasp or a giggle, but it never comes. "I understand," she says instead. She stands, crosses to his bed, and takes his hand silently.

It's more than he could have asked for.

I lay down on the cold ground, and I

Comfort isn't found in the cold, dark basement of Malfoy Manor, where Luna has spent sixteen—seventeen? she's lost count—days huddled beside Mr. Ollivander.

She tries her best to make him feel safe, but she has trouble when even she can't stop thinking of Harry.

Still.

A map resides in the basement, which Luna didn't know until a group of Death Eaters consulted it one day and were trying to decide upon someone's—her guess was Harry's—whereabouts.

She traces a line from where she is to him once they've left, over and over until her hand is numb.

I pray that something picks me up, and

Her heart actually stops beating, and his does, too.

What would have been a moment of bliss and reunion is interrupted by harsh shouts, alerting the unknowing to an intruder.

He meets her eyes, saying everything he can't in words, and, while undoing the rope binding her hands, presses his lips to hers briefly, but it's enough to bridge the chasm between them.

Between Hermione's screams, Harry whispers he loves her, and he doesn't know she's heard until she repeats it back to him, meeting his eyes, smiling timidly.

He kisses her again, and Dobby takes her away, to safety.

Sets me down in your warm arms

If only everything had worked out so simply.

Harry stands in silence at Luna's grave, trying to make sense of it all. A million guilty phrases fall halfway out of his mouth, only to be stopped upon hearing her voice, over and over.

It wasn't your fault.

He runs his fingers along the top of her gravestone and reads it again, hoping he'll find meaning.

Luna Lovegood, 1982-1998. Loving daughter and friend. Love never dies a natural death.

He doesn't; it didn't.

The tears are falling and he doesn't care to stop them, doesn't want to.

He still loves her.

A/N: I started loving this idea, and then I got to the middle and I was like eh, and then I got to the end and I was like chyeah! So I ended up liking it =) The quote on her stone is Anais Nin. I found it online.