Sleep Well

Luna was sitting in the grass, letting her face soak in the last fierce rays of the evening sun, and watching bright lights dance under her eyelids. The coarse stems were tickling her bare feet, and the sea breeze played with her softly curling hair, which was getting lighter each day she spent in the Shell Cottage.

She liked this place - secluded and isolated, and yet every day she woke up to find a wide, open space around her, with endless skies and an ever-talkative sea. Inexplicably, it reminded her of home, and of Daddy. How is he coping without me, she wondered vaguely. But then, Daddy is thougher than many think, he will be all right. Only, he is probably finding it hard not knowing what happened to her, Luna. She sighed at the thought.

"It will be okay, Daddy. Harry will defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and we will be together again. Don't worry too much, and don't forget to beat off those annoying Nargles..."

Luna smiled to the sun and adjusted her position. Her hand touched a warm flat rock, and she knew it was Dobby's tombstone. She stroked it lightly with her palm, without opening her eyes. Thanks to Dobby, they all were alive, and they were safe here, for the time being. By his death the Elf bought them all more time, aiding Harry to thwart him again. He did not have to do it, and yet the love and devotion he felt towards Harry Potter brought him to the rescue. Brave, faithful little Dobby... His tiny body was now lying under a rock, she knew it, but she could just see a little bat-eared shadow silhouetted against the blazing sky, gazing at the waves below...

A rustle of grass behind her and a delicate cough made her drift away from the thoughts about Dobby's after life ( why do we not call it after death though, she wondered vaguely). Luna opened her eyes and turned, still sitting, to find the mistress of the house looking at her in a friendly, but slightly tense, wary manner. Luna knew that look well - it didn't leave Harry's, Ron's, Hermione's and Neville's faces during the first year of their friendship. These days, she only glimpsed it a few times in their eyes, where it flickered and died, replaced by amusement or sympathy, or acceptance.

Fleur smiled down at her and, tucking her robes neatly, went to her knees and sat back on her heels.

"Ze dinair iz readee, Luna. Evereeone iz waiting for you now."

Luna smiled back. The funny accent made her name sound like something very exoctic: "lioo-nah". She liked Fleur. Her long blonde hair, when it glinted in the candlelight, reminded her of Mummy.

"I'm coming. I just wanted to say good night to Dobby. I feel he might be a bit lonely here, at first."

Fleur looked at her solemnly, and nodded.

"Of course 'ee iz. But 'ee iz resting wiz' friends now. Wee will take good care of 'im."

They both looked at the stone, their eyes tracing the roughly cut inscription. Here lies Dobby, a free Elf. Then Fleur stood up in one fluid motion and offered Luna a hand up.

"Allez, viens. Wee are 'aving Bouillabaisse tonight."

Luna stood too, and followed Fleur into the house, humming.

"Bouillabaisse, that sounds rather nice. Are there Plimpies in the recipe? I think I saw a colony down in the shallows..."

Fleur was taken aback momentarily. "Euh, pardon? ... plimp'ees? What are 'zoze plimp'ees, a fish of some kind?"

"Oh, you never saw Plimpies, Fleur? I will show you tomorrow, if they wouldn't have migrated by then. remember to keep off the water's edge though - they like to jump out at bystanders and bite their ears."

"Oh ... I weel remember zat, thank you.."

Fleur nodded her head, looking slightly bewildered, and went inside.

Luna looked back, at the swiftly darkening sky, and whispered: "Goodnight, brave little Dobby. Sleep well ", - and closed the door gently behind her.

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