A/n Harry/Luna death-fic. Srry it just kina came to me. Give me your views. REVIEW!

Disclaimer: I own nothing

On the walls of her Mind

He glared at himself in the mirror, gritted teeth, bared, snarling, hair dripping down on to his red face and eyes wild and fierce and...distant?

NO!

this couldn't be normal.

And immediately following that of course her sing-song voice in his mind

what is normal, what is normal? Have to be normal, conform. What is normal? Building walls around your mind? Build the walls then paint them.

And at that moment he wished he could have just been as indifferent to her as everyone else.

-

They said she was insane.

They said her mother used to tell her she could fly every night before she went to sleep, so one day she had tried...

well everyone knew she was insane of course. Had to be. I mean did you see what she used to wear to Hogsmead and stuff?

And the things she used to say...//

I mean really.

She didn't dress specially though, but I mean she though she would fly, right? She didn't think...

Yeah! I mean she like spread her arms and everything like.

Not normal.

Not normal.

-And at that moment he could see clearly why she had jumped.

-

she'd been wearing white, he remembered, they said she hadn't dressed up but she'd been wearing all white. And an ankle chain and no shoes.

White

He remembered the day clearly. Remembered the strong breeze on the astronomy tower. Remembered the paleness of her hair and skin.

What is normal? What is! I built walls for them! And they built walls cause others built walls. Walls for the sake of wall! Stupid! Stupid white normal walls! Build the walls then paint them.

And he remembered her jumping, feet and arms flailing diving, skirts flapping like wings. That what they didn't understand of course, for a moment she was flying. That she didn't want to fly, only wanted to stop falling...

and of course he remembered her landing. running down in a useless attempt to catch her. Flying to fast, no-one could catch her . He remembered the way she lay scattered on the grass, limbs at strange angles, hair twisted her face, eyes closed.

Stupid white. Paint it. Paint it!

The blood seeping into her dress.

And he remembered touching her skin and thinking how soft it was. How easily bruised.

He took the ankle chain.

-

And he wished he could have just been as indifferent to her as everyone else.

Wished he didn't know why she jumped, why she only wanted to stop falling, but ended up flying anyway.

Why she'd painted herself with blood.

It wasn't normal.

what is normal, what is normal? Have to be normal, conform. What is normal? Building walls around your mind? Build the walls then paint them.

Wished he didn't wear her anklet or remember the day and the softness of her skin.

Hear her voice in his head.

It wasn't normal.

What is normal? What is! I built walls for them! And they built walls cause others built walls. Walls for the sake of wall! Stupid! Stupid white normal walls!

But he'd painted the walls of his mind didn't know how to make them white again, didn't want to.

Because what kind of colour was white anyway? What sort of person had white wall around their mind.

That really wasn't normal.

-fin-

waaa I love Luna I can't believe I just killed her off. Ah well, next time I won't. Maybe I'll kill Mione instead. Hmmm... Frankie