Harry didn't know what made him say the words, but he said them. Avada Kadavra. Murderwords.
He said the murderwords and now Draco Malfoy is dead. He's dead like Abraham Lincoln or Anton LaVey.
He's dead.
Taking all that is to be considered into consideration takes a moment. Harry's almost appalled at what he's done, but he isn't really. You know how it goes. You think you should feel bad about something and honestly you really don't give a fuck.
But there it is, a dead body, the result of his actions. Harry sighs deep into his palms. Gotta get rid of this somehow. Gotta make it go away.
He knows what to do. He takes the body with him back to his house. He writes a letter and waits for a response. He snuggles up next to an invisible corpse and he thinks about it. He's a little grossed out.
Harry gets the response he's looking for and he tells the recipient he'll meet her outside her little house hole.
She does as ordained, uncertain what is expected of her or her existence. She absorbs a thought or two and decides them irrelevant.
"Psst."
Oh? What do I hear? Is it the pitter of a Potter what dragged me out of bed, innit?
"Need help."
Need, want, suffer. Gimme your lunches.
"Find, want, devour. Your god will find its lunches, all right. How about you?"
Depends.
"Fortune is not on my side, girl. Eat a god, don't, these are matters of your own destination. Are you not afraid of my demeanor?"
I fear and learn my own, she says, I learn and fear the others.
"Perhaps you shouldn't."
Perhaps, he says! She laughs. Let me under your cloak of secrets, your web of lies. I'm more apt to consume than yourself - you'd be surprised by my angular!
"Surprised indeed," Harry says, revealing himself and his new best friend under scrutiny. "You'd be surprised by my surprise."
A corpse, she says flatly. A thumb to help steady a simple hammer. Are you having a laugh?
"A laugh," he says, he says. A guffaw escapes his gullet like a god birthing justice - hammers a knockin'. "A laugh she says. Prithee, dost thine ears digest such mockery?"
Spareth thine savior your gleeful tricks, her eyes tumble out the back of her head. Gimme your gibs or gimme your sorrows. One or the other. Betrayed or betrothed.
"Aha! You laugh and jest!" he laughs and jests. The clarity of this ghost is but a silly idea to the scarred chump.
Occulus repairo! A joke Harry smiles at. Luna assists the idiot with his dead erection. A sly grin shared like a muggle twinkie.
"Most welcome giblets on your single bean!"
Not without recourse, a scoff to be made sure. I do believe I demanded your lunches, and offered recourse to be sure.
"I do believe I offered an opportunity."
Not without recourse, she winks and spins under the invisibility cloak, causing a rift or a blur, something she could understand in the real world. Dost thou have any recourse.
"Why certainly, my darling," he jests, following her lead.
Bad. Awful. Prithee, let this be not thine only indication?
"Something further," he grins wickedly. "You like spiders?"
Luna licks her lips. Not without recourse, to be sure.
"A servant to man? Pathetic."
"Not all of us have the choices you did."
"It's pathetic, Potter. Groveling to a gaggle of muggles? Fuck. Pathetic."
"I'd leave your dick in your pants, Malfoy," he says, narrowing his eyes, meaning it. "We both know it isn't that big."
"And we both know where the trash belongs, don't we, Potter?"
And the words, the words just escape him.
Avada Kedavra,
I think he knows what he said and did was unforgivable. I also don't think he cares, though.
It's fine, she says, I really don't care.
"Luna," he whispers desperately. "Felch."
Right, you're worried about getting caught, innit, she giggles. With your invisibility and broken ass map of the grounds. Consider me a jellyfish.
"I don't know what that means," he whispers. He never does.
Saw your name in the mirror of want, she says. They take it one step at a time, a hobbled and wretched corpse dangling from their shoulders on a plane nobody but them can currently appreciate. Saw what you wanted.
"Stoppit."
Little Harry Pothead wants his mummy and daddy, and not the corpse of his bully.
"Stop."
What a fortuitous endeavor for one such as myself, though, she sniggers. You're quite the specimen, Harry, endlessly fascinating.
"Keep your goddamn Satanism up your ass," Harry blurts from his heart. "I'll not be privy or savvy."
Jokes and jest, a feeble attempt to reject a delivery. Her chortle echoes throughout the courtyard.
"Mind yourself, will you?"
Advice to be given is advice to be taken. Are you having a laugh?
"Not I," said the simple boy. Many steps doth remain. "Many steps doth remain." See?
A stench the likes of which could choke a god and fist a demon.
Felch, they nod. One small step at a time, in a roundabout way. It's gonna be a long night.
Follow the spiders, Hagrid once said. Follow the spiders. "I don't need to, idiot," Harry mutters under his breath. "I been there, I know where it is."
Harry? Are you all right?
"Luna Lovegood asking a soundminded individual if they're all right. Are you having a laugh?"
Yeah, she laughs, I'm clearly having a laugh.
"You're having a laugh," he sighs in disgust. "You're having a laugh disposing of a corpse. It's funny, innit?"
And what is it to you? You're a right nutcase if askin' needs askin'. "Hewwo Wuna, pwease hewp me get wid of a cowpse." she says, mocking him in her Harry voice. Please, you're a nutter. You're not even good at pretendin'.
"Having a laugh," Harry scoffs. "She's having a laugh!"
And what are you having? C'mon, tell me!
"Crisis," Harry admits, desperately. "Shittin' in me shoes with a pair of white pants if you must milk it out of me."
That so hard?
"It's not very soft, either." His eyes roll like marbles on a poorly crafted table - all over the place.
For what it's worth I'm proud of you Harry.
His eyes narrow like your chances to get to know your parents just before that car crash they get into. A look, a lost cause, a fleeting notion. And it's gone - it's all gone. "Proud, eh? She's havin' a laugh."
I mean it, she says. You're your own special kind of insane, and whether you'd like to admit it or not, you've embraced it, Harry Potter. I admire that.
"Thanks," he says, "we got a long ways to walk, so.."
Luna laughs. This isn't the first time I've seen a corpse.
"Of course it isn't."
I was a kid once, you know.
"Of course I do."
I spent a week with a homeless man. Starving with him. Watching him die. Feeling his pain. Eating his death rattle.
"Of course you did."
You don't believe me?
"Of course I do."
You're an ass, Harry Potter.
"Of course I am."
"You like spiders, right?" he asks, his dry tongue stuttering across his dry lips.
Depends what you mean by like, mate, she says, chewing on her cheek. I've made peace with spiders but I aint lookin' to fuck any of 'em if that's what yer on about.
"How do you feel about offering them a sacrifice? Making some real peace, what have you?"
Sounds like a job for Harry Potter.
"Luna Lovegood, maker of peace amongst the magic world and spiders! Like the one and only Hagrid before her!"
Harry Potter gets his nuggets drained by spiders, trying to ditch the body of some chump who called him scrawny in quidditch practice.
"Stuff it, will ye? At least do me the favor of planting your arse here until I get done."
I'll stay here as long as my well-being isn't at stake sir. You can count on me not to run screaming into the night until you've been murdered by large spiders on your suicide mission.
"Maybe I should just take my invisibility cloak along with me on my suicide mission then eh?"
Fine, bloody hell. Don't die, you idiot.
"Fuck off," Harry says dragging the body along with him on his shoulder into the visible realm. He lazily hurls the body into the hollowed tree trunk entrance to the spider's nest. "You uh. You think that's good?"
Hi, this is Luna Lovegood with the Moron Weekly. Today Harry Potter got nicked during a poor attempt to dispose of a body. He didn't even bother trying to put it in the spider's nest, apparently he thought it'd be fine if he just left it outside and-
"All right, all right," Harry says, chewing on his cheek and nudging the foot of the cadaver with his own in attempts to scoot it through the entrance and only succeeding in bending the dead chump's knee. "Probably fine."
Luna Lovegood here with Bad Criminals Weekly, today we have a particular knob by the name of Ha-
"Fuck off!" Harry says, walking into the tunnel and dragging the body behind him. "HERE ARAGOG I BROUGHT YOU A SNACK PLEASE DON'T KILL ME AND DON'T TELL HAGRID," he says before zipping back through the entrance and groping blindly for the invisibility cloak.
He makes it under and they skitter across the Dark Woods without looking back.
Aragog stares at the boy with more eyes than he could count if he'd bothered to look around for more than two seconds. Honestly, he's more confused than anything, at the boy's shouting.
Cool first date, Potter. Gotta hand it to ya.
"Date? No. I'm promised to Ginny Weasley."
Her? I don't mind her, she seems nice and all but she's a bit of a two dimensional fangirl if you ask me.
"Hey. Is Malfoy even dead?"
How do you mean?
"Did I even kill him? Is this even real?"
It's only as real as you want it to be. Do we kiss now?
"Maybe if this were a different story, Luna. Maybe if this were bad fanfiction."
I'll take that as a yes.
"Yesterday one of our students went missing," Dumbledore says as if he's chewing on a dry walnut. "Draco Malfoy."
"Draco Malfoy," he repeats, chewing absentmindedly on his cheek.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?" he asks, catching Harry's downcast gaze and harnessing it directly into his brainclutches. "Would you...?"
Harry thinks out loud.