Harry shuffled slowly down the corridor, hardly aware of his surroundings. He felt like he was being drawn into a black hole, the happiness and hope steadily draining out of him, leaving a vacuum in his soul. This is what someone who's been Kissed must feel like, he thought dully. For a brief moment he wondered whether it might be better had he been Kissed….at least then he could escape the pain, the awful guilt that had consumed him over the past week….

Suddenly, movement ahead caught his eye. The sway of a sheet of blonde hair, a rustle of paper. Luna was there, pinning something up on the notice board. Harry didn't feel much like talking to anyone, but he couldn't muster the energy to try and avoid Luna. The sound of his footsteps must have alerted her to his presence, for she looked round and smiled slightly in greeting.

"Hello, Harry."

"Hi, Luna," he said, trying to keep the sullenness in his tone to a minimum. Despite his recent aversion to conversation in the wake of Sirius's death, he simply could not brush Luna off. She had been at the Ministry. She had fought alongside him, withstood the attacks of the Death Eaters. Although he had not wanted her there in the first place, he could not deny that she had been a valuable asset, and for that respect was due.

"Why aren't you at the feast?" Harry asked.

"Several of my things have gone missing," she replied as she finished affixing the sign to the board. "Since tomorrow is the end of term, I'd really like to have them back."

Harry glanced at the sign Luna had put up. Sure enough, it had a long list of missing items. Gurdyroot earrings, The Snorkack Lover's Companion by Xenophilius Lovegood, butterbeer cork necklace…. "That's quite a bit of stuff. How'd it all go missing?"

"People steal it. For fun, you know," she said frankly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. "People think I'm odd. They call me Loony Lovegood, actually, did you know?"

Harry did know. A molten wave of guilt suddenly washed over him. He himself had been that way at the beginning of the year; he too had dismissed her as some oddball, someone that couldn't be taken seriously. Yet, Luna had been a prominent member in the DA. She believed Harry's assertion that Voldemort had indeed returned. She had stoutly refused to be sent away when Harry had told her he didn't want her at the Ministry. She had shown bravery worthy of a Gryffindor. He suddenly felt angry with those who had stolen her belongings. If they knew the real Luna…. Accompanying his anger was another feeling, one that burrowed a pit in his stomach. He realized that he was feeling sorry for Luna.

"They shouldn't do that," he said vehemently. "I'll help you look for it."

"Oh, that's okay," Luna said serenely. She appeared completely unfazed by the situation. "It'll show up in the end. It always does."

"Oh….right."

"So," she said, surveying him with her misty eyes. For a fleeting moment, Harry felt something he had only felt under Dumbledore's gaze, the sensation that she was not just seeing him but seeing through him, accessing a part of him that he didn't even know existed. "Why aren't you at the feast?"

Feast. The emotions that his pity for Luna had driven away returned with a painful suddenness. He thought of the students in the Great Hall below, laughing, joking, reveling in the high spirits that only the end of term can bring, not knowing or caring that Sirius was gone. He thought of the delicious food they must be eating, and with a sharp pang, he remembered how he, Ron, and Hermione had nicked some chicken wings for Sirius just last year. Sirius had risked everything to help Harry out, hiding in a cave mere minutes from an entire village of people who would have been more than willing to hand him over to the dementors. He had lived off rats just so he was able to stay near Harry, to offer him advice and keep him safe.

"I….just didn't feel like it," he muttered.

"No," said Luna, "I suppose you wouldn't. That man that the Death Eaters killed….he was your godfather, wasn't he? Ginny told me."

He nodded slowly. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about talking to Luna was different than talking to anyone else about Sirius. Suddenly a memory came rushing back to him: a skeletal, winged horse, bony and pitch black, reflected in Luna's eyes. A slight smile tracing the curve of Luna's mouth. Don't worry, I can see them too. You're just as sane as I am.

She could see thestrals too.

"Has anyone you've known….that is, have you ever had anyone in your family….?"

"Die?" Luna said, her tone as light and conversational as ever. "Yes, my mother. She was quite an extraordinary witch, but she did like to experiment. One day, one of her spells went rather wrong. I was nine."

"I'm….I'm sorry," Harry said. The words felt feeble, inadequate. He had never been adept at anything relating to emotions. What did you say to someone who had suffered a loss like that? Harry couldn't even work out what he wanted from others concerning Sirius's death. His mood seemed to be in constant flux. At times, he desired nothing more than to talk to someone about it; but at others, he felt like he would bleed to death from the pain of it. He wondered whether Luna felt this way. In addition to the fresh loss of Sirius, he too had lost a mother, one he had barely known, and he knew that the effects of losing a parent were as far-reaching as ripples in a pond. Briefly, Harry wondered whether he and Luna had yet another thing in common: were she to have looked in the Mirror of Erised, would she have seen her mother standing there, smiling warmly yet distantly, just as Harry had seen his?

"Yes, it was rather horrible," Luna continued. "I still feel quite sad about it sometimes, but I've still got Dad. And it's not as though I'll never see Mum again, is it?"

"Er...it isn't?" Harry knew there were ways to see loved ones again, but none lasting, none sufficient to heal the wounds their absences had inflicted. He again thought of the Mirror, of the photo album Hagrid had given him back in his first year, of the insubstantial, smoky figures that had erupted out of Voldemort's wand when Harry had dueled him in the graveyard….through these he had gotten to see, even speak to his dead parents, but not really, not actually. These were imitations at best. The fact remained that he would never again have the chance to meet the living, breathing, flesh and blood people that had been Lily and James Potter. What was Luna on about?

"Oh, come on," she said, shaking her head disbelievingly. "You heard them too, didn't you? Just behind the veil."

"Wait," Harry said. "Do you mean…."

"In the room with the archway. They were just lurking out of sight, that's all."

Luna's slight smile had returned, and a tacit understanding passed between the two of them. He recalled standing on the dais, watching the tattered black veil flutter in the ancient archway despite the lack of breeze. Everyone had been there, yet only he and Luna had seemed to be able to hear the faint, inviting whispers issuing from it. Could it really be that those voices…. Luna believed so many extraordinary things, and yet Harry had heard those voices too. Could they really be something more than a hallucination, a delusion? Could they be something auspicious, the only auspicious thing to come of that disastrous trip to the Ministry, a promise that somehow, someday, he might be reunited with the ones he loved?

Possible responses were whirling in an incomprehensible mass in his head. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask…. In lieu of any of it, he found himself saying, "Are you sure you don't want help looking for your stuff?"

"No, that's all right. It'll show up. I know it will. I'm just going to go down to the feast for a little pudding while I wait." She turned slightly as if to begin walking down the corridor, and suddenly Harry realized that he didn't want her to leave. "Well, have a nice holiday, Harry…."

"Yeah….you too…."

As he watched her walk away, he found that the terrible weight in his stomach had lessened slightly. However, another sensation was tugging at him, pulling him irresistibly forward so that before he was aware of it, he found himself running down the passageway after Luna. She looked round at the sound of his footsteps echoing noisily off the walls. He stopped beside her, panting slightly. Luna raised her pale eyebrows quizzically.

"What is it, Harry?"

"Actually," Harry said, "do you….do you mind if I walk down with you? I think I might try to stay for a bit of pudding, too."

Luna beamed. "Not at all!"

Harry smiled in return, and it felt like the first time he had done so in ages. He knew that the pain of the loss of Sirius had not been dispelled indefinitely. He knew that at times it was going to be a persistent dull ache, and at others it would be as fresh as if it had just happened. He knew that it would not be easy to come to terms with what had occurred that night at the Ministry. But, he thought as he walked side-by-side with Luna, listening to her happily describe her summer plans, as long as I have people like her, I'll be okay.