Written for: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

House: Gryffindor

- Hogwarts Gym, Madam Pomfrey's Fun Fitness: (Theme)Guilt

- 72 Hours Speed Comp, Truth: (Emotion) Empathetic

Thanks so much to NinjaDevil2000 for beta-reading! When you finished this story, go check her out, she's a fabulous writer.

Warning: mentions of self-harm

Luna was worried about Harry. Ever since the incident at the Ministry of Magic, he had acted completely differently from how she knew him. He was barely eating, and if he was even with them in the Great Hall, he didn't talk much, and unless she didn't run into him in the corridors, she didn't see him at all. There also hadn't been a single meeting with the DA; of course, they weren't necessary any more in light of Dumbledore's return and Umbridge's sacking, but Luna still wished they had continued to meet. She missed the meetings and her new friends already.

And she cared for Harry. She didn't think being alone was good for him at the moment. But she also didn't know what to do about it; if the boy chose to be alone, she couldn't change that.

She hoped to run into Hermione or Ron, who both were so close to Harry, but she didn't see them much either. Ginny, in spite of being in the same house with Harry and being his best friend's sister, didn't seem to be able to figure out his feelings.

"I guess he just needs time," she said, "but I'm worrying too. Especially with the summer holidays approaching and him going back to live with those Muggles... I don't like it."

Luna's eyes grew wider. "I hadn't thought about that!" she exclaimed, "he'll be alone all summer. That can't be good for him..."

"No, it won't," Ginny said, "and I've already asked my mother whether he could stay at our place."

"And? What did she say?"

"She said Ron had asked the same thing, and that she would have to give the same answer as him," Ginny said, sounding furious, "that Harry has to go back to his aunt's and uncle's house and can maybe visit us the last couple of weeks."

Luna frowned. "Why?"

Ginny shrugged. "I dunno, but it has got something to do with Dumbledore, Mum mentioned him as well." She sighed. "I guess he'll have to cope with his grief alone."

A crease appeared between Luna's eyes. She knew how it felt to deal with your sorrow all by yourself, and she didn't want Harry going through the same thing she went through.

It was the week before summer holidays when Luna spotted Harry while he was just walking down the corridor. He carried something under his arm that looked like it had to be his Invisibility Cloak. Without hesitation, she ran after him.

"Harry!" He turned around and she was a bit startled when she saw his face. His eyes were red and swollen and he looked very tired.

Without saying a word, he turned around and wanted to walk away, but Luna grabbed his arm and said, "Wait, please, I want to talk to you."

Harry bit his lip. "I don't want to talk," he mumbled and turned away again, but Luna didn't let go of him. "Harry, please. You have been hiding in your room, or under this cloak, or whenever you've been all these weeks. Now let us talk."

He hesitated.

"It'll be good for you, I promise," she said.

Harry shook his head. "I wanna be alone," he said.

"You can be alone. After we have talked," she said firmly.

Luna relaxed her grip around his arm and started stroking his hand softly. "Just a couple of minutes, okay?"

"Why do you wanna talk?"

"I care about you, and I'm worried!" Luna said. "We are all worried!"

"What? About me? You don't need to be. I'm alive."

"Please, Harry, let's go outside, sit down, and have a little conversation. Just you and I, without anyone interrupting."

Harry looked around and didn't move. "Anything you wanna say to me you can say right here," he said.

"It'll be much more comfortable outside. And less people."

Just at that moment, two Ravenclaws came around the corner who eyed the pair of them curiously. Luna turned to Harry and waited.

He sighed. "Fine," he said finally, "five minutes, okay?"

They sat down under the tree. You could see the sunset that seemed to colour everything red and orange. Luna turned to Harry.

"Harry, you're not fine, are you?"

"What d'you imagine? I just lost ..." He didn't say it.

"I know. I'm sorry."
Harry stared down at his hands. "You don't understand," he mumbled.

"I do," Luna said simply.

He looked up. "No, you don't," he said more definite.

"Yes, I do."

"No!" He jumped up and looked at her furiously. "No, you don't! You see, you think you get me just because your mother died, but that's not true, no one can understand what I'm going through, not you, just because you lost someone, not Dumbledore, just because he thinks he's a wise man, not anyone else because their families are still alive!"

"Calm down," Luna said, "I -"
"You're thick and stupid if you think you know what I'm going through. So your mum died, big deal! You were a little child back then; it wasn't your fault; you weren't the reason she is dead now!"

Luna realized how her eyes were growing teary and she had to muster up all her courage to not simply get up and leave.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, Harry with a furious look on his face and Luna, feeling hurt.

He hesitated. "I'm sorry," he said in a more quiet voice, "I didn't want to hurt you."

He sat down again. "Sorry, Luna. That was -"

"It's okay," Luna said quickly, relieved he had calmed down.

Harry shook his head. "It actually wasn't." He took a deep breath.
"It's just," he said after a moment, "all those people keep telling me they're sorry, and but none of them understand. And it sucks that they pretend like they know how it feels, if they don't. No one can know that kind of pain unless they've experienced it."

"I know," Luna said quietly and took Harry's hand. "It's hard."

"I'm sorry I shouted at you. I shouted at Dumbledore as well, a couple of weeks ago. I'm a nightmare."

"I guess losing your godfather feels like a nightmare, too," Luna said. "It's okay, Harry."

"You're a very kind person, Luna."

Luna smiled. "Oh, thank you," she said. "You are too, Harry."

They remained silent for a couple of minutes.

"I don't expect you to feel well or anything," Luna said after a while, "it would be unnatural if you were. But it's not good for you to shut yourself out like this, Harry."

He didn't reply.

"You should hang out with us while you can," Luna said, "we miss you. And it'll be the summer holidays soon."

"Don't remind me of them," Harry said gloomily.

"Your aunt and uncle don't understand you?"

"They wouldn't understand even if they tried."

"I'm sorry."

"People say that a lot, and don't mean it."
"I mean it and I feel it."

Luna looked down and stroked over Harry's hand. Just now she noticed something she hadn't seen before, and it made her eyes grow wide.

Alarmed, she tried to look at his arm more closely, but when he noticed her glance, he quickly jerked away his arm and hid it behind is back.

Luna looked at him in concern. "Harry, your arm -"

"What?" he asked anxiously.

"There are scars. They look -"

"What about them? I got them when we were fighting in the Ministry."

He had started to sweat.

Incredulously, she stared at him. "Harry, if those were from a fight you wouldn't be hiding them."

She approached him and Harry winced, but all she did was lay her arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry, it's okay," she said, her voice shaking.

He said nothing.

"Can you please just show me them so I know how bad they are?" Luna whispered.

Harry hesitated. "Can we change the subject? Please?" His eyes were red and he looked like he was going to cry.

She moved away from him and pulled up her sleeve to expose her own arm. There were deep scars burnt into her skin, some of them in deep red. They all seemed to have healed partly, but they were still clearly visible.

Harry looked her in the eyes. "W-Why?" he said.

Luna pulled down her sleeve again. "When my mother died," she said, "I felt like I lost everything. Her, my family, my dad, even. He was so sad and he tried to be a good dad, and he really was, but he needed a lot of time for himself and I cried a lot – we both cried a lot – and I started getting the idea it was because of me. Because I was present when she died and he was not, so it had to be my fault. That thought destroyed me; the more I was thinking about it, I started believing I had no right to mourn about her death because it was my fault she died. So I started to hurt myself. In the beginning I just wanted to feel a bit like her, I wanted to have to go through pain, like she did. I took sharp stones or shards and they left small scars on my skin. But then I figured I'd need more pain, more cuts, because it was all my fault. I started being in more control of my magic, and I used magic to cut me; I don't even know how, it was all before I went to school and learnt proper spells. Then I remembered how my mother used to take care of my wounds when I had hurt myself as a kid; there were moments where I thought if I only cut hard enough she'd come back and she'd heal me with her salve."

She touched her sleeve and her face contorted as she remembered those times.

"What made it stop?" Harry asked quietly. As Luna looked up, she noticed there was a tear in his eye.

"Coming here," Luna said. "I don't really know why, to be honest, I just kind of stopped because I felt so comfortable here and with the years, I started realizing that it never was my fault. Although there are still moments..." She stroked her arm and shook her head. "It's funny, you know, I used to feel so strong when I was cutting. Every drop of blood made me feel like I was stronger, or braver, or whatever, but ever since I stopped doing it I feel stronger and prouder than I ever felt when I hurt myself. People were giving me plenty of reasons to start it again, but I didn't let them get to me. That made me proud."

Luna smiled. It had felt odd, in the beginning, not to slice your skin open every day. But she had managed. And now she had to sit next to Harry, realising he was suffering through the exact same thing.

"They have no idea how tough you are, Luna," Harry mumbled and looked down on his own arm.

Luna looked at him. "You're tougher than me," she said quietly, "You're a Gryffindor, Harry, a true lion. You can stop, too."

"But I don't want to stop. I'm not doing it half as deep as you used to do."

Luna closed her eyes. "And now you want to wait until the cuts are really deep? Harry, please, you could seriously injure yourself, and I think -" She took a deep breath, "I think you already are gravely injured."

Harry didn't reply. Luna didn't know what to say any more. She knew she couldn't just tell Harry to stop. It didn't work like that.

She took his hand and couldn't help herself. Tears were streaming down her face. "Take care of yourself, Harry, please!"

Harry just looked at her.

"I'm sorry if it hurts you," he said, "and I thank you for telling me all this, but..." He swallowed. "I... it's all my fault, Luna. It's my fault he's dead."

Luna hesitated. She knew that Harry didn't want to hear what she wanted to tell him, so she said: "I know you think that way, Harry. And I know nothing I say will convince you otherwise."

Harry nodded.

"Can you just promise me that you will keep talking to me? That you won't stay away from us all? That you keep having friends and don't let yourself go? Please, Harry?"

He sighed. "I'll try," he mumbled.

"I'm here if you want to talk," Luna said quietly, "so are Hermione, Ron and Ginny. We are all still here, Harry."