Finally my second story! This one is completely different from my other one, more on a sad note. But, ah, inspiration struck and I wasn't satisfied with just writing it down for later in my notebook. So here you go, my first Ron/Luna (and my first serious one!)....

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter because I would be insanely rich if I did.

Yellow.

Her colour. Her butter-yellow hair. The colour that represented her best- bright and cheery, even despite the other dark, gloomy colours of the world. Now whenever I see a yellow flower my daughter's picked, or the shimmering sun, I think of her.

She always wore it someway or another. A lemon yellow head band the first day I say her. Large, bronze earrings that kept changing shape the day we first talked and she insisted they were Blibbering Humdingers. The gold knickers with moving pictures of Crumple-Horned Snorckacks she accidentally left when she had a sleepover with Ginny. Her neon yellow boots she wore on our first date. The flowing, sunny yellow dress she was wearing when I proposed. The tiny, yellow daisy blossoms she wore sprinkled in her hair on our wedding day. The soft yellow cap she replaced the pink one with on our newborn baby girl's head.

But the one I'll remember the most wasn't one she opted for, rather embraced instead- the yellow of her skin. I don't want to know about how it was the bile absorbed in her skin because it was blocked. And I don't want to know how they couldn't save her because of the swollen lymph nodes and other organs now infected with tumors. All I want to know is why. Why she's gone. Why I'm alone now. Why all I have left of her is our daughter that's almost as beautiful and just as quirky as she was. Why my love wasn't enough to save her.

I'll never forget that yellow.