Most people reflect on their firsts, but not Luna. She sits in silence, remembering the lasts that she shared with the man she loved.
The Last Time
The War is over, Voldemort is dead.
Life is supposed to go on.
The school year that never really began comes to a close, and everyone heads back home for the summer. As she's done the years before, Luna goes to stay at the Burrow. The Weasleys have been the kindest family she ever met, accommodating her every need.
It's a bitter end, lives were lost.
Harry and Ginny become engaged, they decide to have their wedding a week later. Some people find it strange, a wedding celebration in the middle of so much strife. But perhaps that was their precise intention.
Everyone needed some kind of optimism to heal the wounds that had cut so deep.
They ask if she was okay, she lies and says yes. Everyone was upset, it would make matters worse had she let them see her tears. So she pretends, forces a smile, and covers her face to shove the emotions away. It was futile, because everyone knew the truth. Devastation hadn't hit any individual more than her.
She lives a semblance of the life she once led, going about with her normal eccentricities. Sometimes she leaves andexplains to everyone that she's out to hunt down what had taken what she kept precious away.
They laugh, because they think she's beginning to recover, beginning to heal. They assume she's scouting Nargles, or maybe Wrackspurts, so they let her go. But she isn't looking for magical creatures, she's looking for the only real God she knew.
Death.
It was the one responsible for taking what she held dear. She knew it was pointless, because no one could live forever, everyone had to leave their world eventually. Who could conquer death?
Time kept passing, even though she felt like everything had been shattered. She didn't think anything would continue without him there by her side.
It's time for Ginny's wedding, and everyone's happy. Luna doesn't want to, but she acts like she is happy too. Because if he saw her now, he would be hurting too.
There's music, guests, and glow around the newly wedded couple. It strikes her in a flash, Luna sees the future fate that she once wished for. There was once a time that Ginny had been the one promising to be the bridesmaid, a time when Luna knew she was going to be a bride, a time she knew who was going to be her groom.
The tent is filled with noise.
She watches from her seat.
She avoids the gaze from his brother, because they look so identical. Anytime she looks at his face, she sees the ghost of the boy she grew up with, the man she had fallen in love with. George knows this, so he avoids her too.
Ginny and Harry share their first official dance together, it's beautiful. Molly Weasley cries with joy onto her husband's shirt. Luna looks from afar at the way Harry puts his hand around his new wife's waist, and she remembers.
The last time he embraced her hadn't even been a month ago. She'd been rescued from the empty cellar in Malfoy Manor. He terrified her with his rage, his concern, cursing up a storm to those who had been responsible for her abduction. But then his brown eyes met her pale blue, and he wrapped his arms around her. That day was the first he had cried in front of her, it was also the last.
Her eyes trail to his youngest brother. Ron jokingly warns Harry to keep his hands to himself. That was something he used to threaten.
She looks down into her lap, she hasn't gotten up since the party started. She doesn't think as she fingers a lock of golden hair, but she stops. She remembers.
He told her that he prayed their children would have her hair, light and blonde, not like his playful copper red.
Everything becomes too much for her, she decides she doesn't care what he thinks anymore. She's angry. She didn't care if he didn't like seeing her upset, he deserved it. She slips away from the crowd, no one sees her, so no one follows her.
She's happy, because if they did see, they would stop her. She isn't allowed there anymore, the last time she was in his room, she collapsed in a fit.
She goes to the front door, slowly making her way up the creaky stairs. She looks down the small hallway, and as if by habit, she turns the same way. She goes and turns the knob, opening the door with shaking hands. His familiar scent hits her, it almost knocks the air out of her lungs, she feels like she's suffocating. But she doesn't want to leave, because she's scared she'll never smell him again.
His belongings remain untouched, no one was quite ready to do anything with it. She stumbles further into the quaint room, half of it blanketed with darkness, the rest illuminated by the light from hallway because she never bothered to close the door. She remembers.
The last time she spent a night of darkness with him was in his bed, he hugged her, hushing her to sleep, banishing all of the nightmares that plagued her mind. She looks at the window, and thinks of the last time she saw the sun rise. He had been fast asleep, the rays of sunshine hitting his boyish features.
She reaches up to touch her face, then aware that she had been sobbing. Her legs give out, and she falls onto her knees, caps colliding onto the rug. She hoists her weight up, she holds onto the furniture to support herself as she makes her way to his closet. She opens it, finding it just as disorganized a mess as before.
She recalls when he covered his ears at her nagging, lifting her off her feet and away from the chaos and carrying her away from the evidence.
Her hand raises to feel the cloth drooping off of a hanger. In one motion, she removes it and throws it around her shoulders, tightening it before her frail form. She can't bear the pain anymore, she falls back and her spine hits the wall behind her. She slides down until she's sitting on the ground. She remembers.
They were riding on his broomstick to Hogwarts, everyone was rushing to aid the battle. He felt her shivering behind him. He stopped in the middle of the air to remove his coat and cover her with it.
She can't stop the epiphany anymore, all of the memories come rushing forward. She hears a shrill sound, she realizes it's her own wailing. She recognizes the dryness of her throat as she continues on and cradles her head in her arms.
She remembers the last time she saw him alive.
He nearly knocked her over in one of the corridors, she almost hexed him because she thought he was the enemy. His laugh stopped her, how much she missed his laugh. He dipped his head, tilting her chin, giving her a casual peck on the lips. He shouts something about being right back, and how he would always be the more competent twin.
She didn't even wave goodbye.
She didn't even get the chance to say she loved him.
She never thought there would ever be a last of anything. She never imagined they would have ended.
She wants him back.
She wants him back.
She wants him back.
She rocks back and forth, her loud cries muffled by the sleeve of his clothing. She doesn't want people to hear her, she doesn't want to ruin the wedding.
She hears someone's footsteps, they know she's there. They're coming to take her away from his room, away from what remained of him.
She cries even harder, because she knows there is a worse day waiting for her. The broken day would come when he would fade, and she wouldn't be able to remember all of her lasts. The day would come that she would forget about him.
She can't stand that thought.
So she goes over everything again in her head. She repeats it again until she knows she'll remember all of their lasts.
I love you Fred, don't go.
End.
A/N: I was always devastated by Fred's death, finally found the opportunity to write something about it after I heard the song 'Last Kiss'. Surprisingly, the song was very fitting. I encourage you to listen to it while reading this. Thank you for reading.