AN: For Grace (WolfWinks)
Written for the Fanfiction Tournament Competition and the Prompt Sweep Challenge: (setting) Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch.
Ministry of Magic (Proven interest): Astronomy
There's Freedom In Her Eyes
Harry was running—flying away from it all. He was high up in the air on his broomstick with the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch fast disappearing beneath him. Even with the snow stinging his face from the speed he was going at, Harry felt like he could truly breathe after the suffocating pity he could see in everyone's eyes.
Well, in the eyes of those who knew.
Sirius had died considered a guilty man and it plagued Harry every time he was anywhere close to forgetting it; he wanted to clear his godfather's name, but it was too late and it felt impossible. Sirius was dead and no one would believe him.
Six months had passed since Sirius' death, and time had not made the loss any easier. It was nearly Christmas, and with everyone in the castle rushing around making arrangements, it only served to accentuate his absence.
Harry blinked back tears as he stopped ascending and looked down. He had planned on surprising Sirius with a visit this Christmas. He couldn't contain the first sob as he remember how he'd stayed up at night imagining how amazing a Christmas with the Order, his friends, and his godfather would be.
Of course, it was too good to be true, he thought bitterly.
Without the slightest bit of caution, Harry took both of his hands off his broomstick—the broomstick Sirius had gifted him for Christmas—to wipe his eyes.
He remained hovering in the air like that for a few moments; his fingers were freezing, but he wasn't too bothered. It was nice to just sit up here and think. There was an unrivalled freedom in being amongst the clouds.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, allowing the air and snow to flow around him before beginning his descent.
Once he was back on the ground, Harry shook the snow from his robes and stuffed his frozen hands into the pockets, fully intending to go right back inside the castle.
However, something caught his eye.
Peering closely, Harry could see a head of blonde hair in the stands. He wondered who would be sat outside in such cold weather...
He got his answer as he moved closer: Luna.
She was looking just past him, and at what, Harry didn't know. She had to be freezing.
"Luna?" he called out; his voice sounded oddly loud in the empty grounds, even with the whistling wind.
Her eyes, usually unfocused, turned to look at him, and Harry felt slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of her gaze. "Yes, Harry?" she asked; her voice was quiet enough to have been drowned in the wind, but it seemed nature cooperated with her, allowing the sound waves to float along to his ears.
Now, making his way up the stands, Harry asked: "Why are you out here in the cold?"
Luna smiled, moving over so he could sit next to her. "It's quieter out here," she answered, and then, without missing a beat, she asked: "Why are you?"
His heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question, but it hadn't been asked snidely. Luna was staring out across the snow-covered grounds, entirely placid. He wished that he could be as peaceful as that.
It seemed she was the smooth surface of a lake, and he was the roiling waves of an ocean.
In that moment, he found he could trust her. "It's nice to sit up in the sky, away from everything."
As the words left his mouth, he looked at her tentatively. She was frowning. Of course, he'd had to make a crease in perfectly smooth paper; he marred everything he came into contact with.
"I don't fly often."
Harry blinked in surprise.
Luna continued, oblivious to Harry's shock. "Is it nice?"
Harry could only nod.
"I should fly more often then," she said with a smile, and tentatively, Harry smiled back.
"You should," he said, and added, "it's a lot of fun."
They sat in silence for a moment, and Harry glanced at Luna, trying to understand how she could be so content. He didn't know how much time passed with him trying to figure out just how she did it, but eventually, he gave up trying to understand, and instead, tried to copy her.
He sat facing forward, staring directly into the swirling mass of snow. Could someone force themselves to be unfocused?
He heard a laugh from beside him, and he turned to find Luna looking at him. "You should just relax," she said with a smile.
She didn't realise that it wasn't that easy for him.
Whenever he tried to let his muscles relax, they would tense up again at the thought of the past, and honestly, he didn't know how to make it stop. Thinking for a moment, he made up his mind. He was going to tell Luna.
"I can't relax," he said, letting the words hang in the icy air.
"Why not?" asked Luna, and Harry could feel her concern, despite finding all the snow in her hair slightly amusing.
He took a deep breath, wincing at the way the biting air travelled down his throat. "Whenever I try, I remember…" he trailed off, and realised this wasn't going to be easy.
"Bad things?" offered Luna, and Harry nodded quickly, noting the snow that fell from his own hair at the movement.
He jumped when something touched his numb hands, but relaxed before realising it was Luna's own hands. He felt her squeeze them gently, and she told him how that happened to her sometimes, and that it was okay.
They spoke for a length of time Harry wasn't able to specify, but when they were done, the snow had turned to rain, and they had covered topics from the good things to the bad things and from giving up to how amazing things could be if he could only just move on.
After they lapsed into another moment of silence, Luna stood, and after his questioning glance she said: "It's time to go inside."
He wondered how she knew, but realised it was Luna, of course she knew; he followed without question.
When they reached the castle, Harry shifted uncomfortably at the sudden noise, and hustle and bustle after the surrealistic serenity of the outside. He was grateful for the warmth though.
He turned to his side to say thank you to Luna, but she had disappeared. It seemed that was her way.
It was later that evening that he found he couldn't stand the noise any longer. Throughout dinner, he had searched the Ravenclaw table, hoping to find Luna. She wasn't there.
He excused himself from the table and went up to the Gryffindor common room, but despite there only being a few people in there, he still felt closed in.
Grabbing a scarf and a pair of gloves from his dormitory, Harry made his way up to the Astronomy Tower. Curfew was fast approaching; going out into the grounds was out of the question.
As he clambered up the last few steps, he felt a cold breeze and heard the sound of the rain hitting the metal flooring. It sounded like a xylophone was playing, and Harry immediately felt at ease.
As he stepped onto the Observatory, Harry cringed at the loud clanging sound his shoes made on the floor. He froze until the echoes subsided, and continued walking, this time more gently, to the other side of the tower.
That's when he saw Luna. She was laying on her back, staring at the stars; her hair looked like she had just gone for a swim and Harry wondered how she didn't get ill if she did this often.
"Would you like to sit with me?" she asked, and Harry jumped. He didn't know why he was surprised; his entrance had been loud enough to wake the dead.
In answer to her question, Harry moved to lay beside her. He whispered, casting a shield to stop the rain soaking Luna further (though it seemed a bit late for that), and to stop it getting on his glasses. However, as he let his back touch the floor, he felt the water soaking through his robes immediately.
He didn't move though.
Overcoming the momentary discomfort of the water on his back, the sound of Luna humming met his ears. It was a gentle tune, matching the sound of the rain hitting his magic-made shield. "What are you humming?" he asked, curious.
"It's a song my father sings when it rains. It was always nice to hear him singing on a stormy night," she answered, and Harry could hear the smile in her voice.
They lay in silence, staring at the sky before Luna spoke again. "The stars are pretty."
"They are," agreed Harry—and they really were.
Colourful constellations swirled above them, shining fiercely through the droplets of rain. It felt as if the skies were trying to rid themselves of clouds so they could witness the display.
"They don't give up," Luna said. "My father says their light has to travel countless distances for us to see them, yet their light always manages to reach us because they always keep going."
Harry smiled gently, remembering their discussion in the stands.
Luna wasn't done yet. "You could be like a star," she said quietly.
Harry frowned, turning his head to find Luna still staring up into the sky. "How?" he asked.
"You think that if you give up on trying to move on, it will be easier," she stated simply.
It was then that Harry understood what she was saying. If he managed to move on and keep going, just like the stars did, then one day, he'd be able to shine as brightly as them.
"Luna?" he said.
"Yes?"
"You're like a star." His face flushed as he spoke; the compliment had sounded much better in his head.
Somehow, Luna didn't laugh. Instead, she said: "Thank you, Harry."
He watched apprehensively as she sat up, and he thought she was going to leave, so he copied her, ready to apologise—but again, Luna surprised him, turning to him and placing cold hands on his face. He was looking directly into silver eyes that held the promise of freedom—a freedom that rivalled that of the clouds.
She kissed him, and he let the shield he had put up drop, allowing the rain to soak him as wrapped his arms around Luna's already drenched form.
They remained as they were for a while, the light of the stars smiling down on them as the pair found a way to get rid of the bad things together.