Chapter Three - All Hallow's Eve
The next thing Harry knew, the entire world was sunlit, cool, but not as cold as the night had been, and he was uncomfortably pressed upon slabs of wood, his arm numb. Wood. Bench. Arm numb, he thought, slowly coming to his senses. "Luna," he murmured, wiping the sleep from his emerald green eyes.
And there she was, her shimmering grey eyes opened wide as usual. She was smiling. Harry noticed that she seemed to be watching him wake up as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
"Good morning, Harry Potter," she said blissfully.
"Luna, what time is it? How long have we been here?"
"It's approximately nine o'clock in the morning. It's the eighth of October in the year 2000. Rather a lovely Sunday morning, if you ask me. I like autumn quite a bit. The nights are cold, but the days are warmer. The leaves change colors marvelously. I wonder what it's like for the leaves… Slowly but beautifully dying," she mused.
"D'you think we should go back?" he asked cautiously. He loved hearing all of Luna's ideas and theories, but he felt it impolite to leave Ron and Hermione without so much as a goodbye. He wondered if he'd be welcomed to stay there again after last night's fiasco. And on top of it all, he was utterly astonished that he had fallen asleep with his arm around Luna. He couldn't think straight. Wrackspurts, he muttered to himself instinctively. He needed to be alone, or with someone like Hermione; she could always help him sort his thoughts out.
"It's going to start raining soon," she noted, looking up at the sky, as if she hadn't heard Harry at all. He stared at her, pondering what went on in her head - what did her ears take in, and what did she actually hear? What was going on in the world of Luna Lovegood? His brain was swimming with questions about her, but he couldn't come to any conclusions. She wasn't like any girl he had ever known. It seemed, he thought, too demeaning to call her just a woman. She had to be something more, Harry just had no idea what. "Daddy's probably worried about me… We were going to go fishing together today," she told Harry.
"You can still go with him if we return quickly," Harry informed her. "The day's just begun."
"Oh, no, if you want to catch freshwater plimpies, you must go before the sun rises. They're afraid of light, you see," she said very matter-of-factly. "I'll take you sometime!" After glancing at the sky one more time, she held out her hand. "You're right. We should go back. Now." Harry took her hand, and as if on cue, it began to pour as they disapparated with a crack that Harry was sure would wake all the Muggles in the village.
Before Harry could really register the feeling of being sucked down a thin, rigid pipe, Luna and Harry landed in front of Ron and Hermione's cottage. "I think you need to be with them alone. I'm going to walk home from here. I don't like apparating. If I walk, I can see all the creatures that only come out in the rain," she said firmly after seeing the look on Harry's face. What kind of gentleman, what kind of friend, would he be to let Luna walk home alone while it was raining? She lived a good two or three miles away. "It's only drizzling," she added. "You can't be seen, remember? You aren't here." And with that, she turned away from him and strolled slowly in the direction of her home.
Harry still couldn't decide what to think of her, but his confusion was interrupted by a growling stomach. He quickly knocked on the door of the cottage. Within seconds, the door opened, and there Hermione stood, a sudden look of relief emerged on her face. "Harry! You're back! Ron and I were worried sick - and then Luna went to find you! I wonder where she is! Oh, Harry, come inside and eat! You're all wet," she said, quickly casting a water-repellant charm on the lenses of his glasses. The two of them walked inside, and as she swiftly waved her wand, a chair pulled out so Harry could sit, and plates of bacon, eggs, toast, and marmalade flew in front of Harry on the table.
"Luna found me. She's safe now. Going home," Harry said in between mouthfuls of the delicious food. "Where's Ron?" he added as he saw Hermione suspiciously raise an eyebrow.
"He's helping out George at the joke shop today. He should be back before supper, but that's not important. Did you spend the night with Luna?"
"Yes-" he began, "- but not like that!" he exclaimed after seeing the look on Hermione's face. "She found me in Godric's Hollow-"
"Oh! I'm so stupid! I should've known that's where you went! Seamus had mentioned it right before… It's where you were born, where your parents died-"
"That's how Luna knew I'd be there. Anyways, she calmed me down, and the next thing I know I'd fallen asleep, and then it was morning. It started to rain, so we came back," Harry concluded. "That was all."
"You don't fancy her, do you, Harry?"
"She - she gets me, y'know? I've always thought that, though, and never fancied her. She's a great friend…" Harry trailed off, thinking of how after the Battle of Hogwarts, where she fought valiantly and helped him discover a Horcrux, she had been the only one to know exactly what he had wanted - some peace and quiet. How in his fifth year, she was in his mind even when he was kissing Cho. She had also loyally and fearlessly fought with him and the others at the Ministry that same year, and in Harry's sixth year, at the Battle in the Astronomy Tower. How she'd never doubted his story of Voldemort's return when nearly everyone else did. How she'd been a loyal member of Dumbledore's Army since it was established.
"You're blushing, Harry," Hermione said, grinning. "You can just tell me-"
"Look, Hermione, I don't know!" he snapped. "It's been less than three weeks since - and I'm sort of confused - and I thought you could help me-"
"Harry, these things take time. If there was a spell that could really, honestly help you, you know I wouldn't hesitate. But this isn't a thing that can be cured by magic."
"Well, what should I do, then?"
"Spend some time with her, as friends. Or spend some time alone to figure out if you're ready to close the Ginny Weasley chapter of your life. I don't know how exactly you'd do that, but I feel as though you're getting there, Harry, I know you are," she insisted. "I have faith in you."
"I just wish I knew why she cheated, y'know?" He sighed. A bit of his appetite had been lost since the mention of her name, but he didn't get that urge to vomit anymore.
"I hate to say it, Harry, but Ginny's never really stayed with one man for two long. I've noticed that ever since she's been playing for the Holyhead Harpies, she's been a bit snobbish, and I s'pose, Neville being rather famous and all, that the fame got to both their heads. I hate to say this, Harry, but she's been with quite a few men… Maybe she likes the chase; maybe she just likes the man of the moment. Neville did get a lot of attention after killing Nagini." Harry frowned for a moment, wondering how life might've been different if Ron or Hermione had managed to kill Nagini. "Perhaps he never really got over his massive crush on her from year four," she speculated. "Who knows? But the thing is, Harry, if you're ever really over her, I think that you just might not want to know anymore. You just might not care at all. Then, I think, you're ready to shut the chapter. Just my opinion, if it's worth anything."
"Hermione, you're brilliant. I think I'm getting there," he declared proudly. "Yeah, I definitely am. I won't let her keep me from being happy!"
"I'm proud of you, Harry!" she squealed, clasping him in a bear hug. Harry blushed even more. He finally felt as though his life was slowly but surely falling back into place.
The rain didn't cease at all during the afternoon and continued into the chilly and turbulent night. The windows of the cottage rattled and the walls shook so violently as though the structure of the house was threatening to collapse.
"Don't worry!" Hermione yelled over the deafening rainstorm. "It's protected by spells! Ron should be home any second!" She was looking at a clock directly over the oven. Harry noticed it was exactly like Mrs. Weasley's clock - instead of numbers, there were different places written down, like "working," "travelling," "home," and "in danger!" and one hand on the clock had a picture of Hermione at the end, whilst the other had a picture of Ron. Mrs. Weasley must have shown Hermione how to make one. Following Hermione's precise prediction, there was a deafening noise over the sound of rain beating down on the roof and thunder and wind shaking the earth, and Ron appeared in the kitchen where Harry and Hermione were sitting at the table, waiting for Ron's arrival to begin eating the mouth-watering supper of roast lamb.
"Harry. You're back," Ron said immediately. Harry could tell by the tone in his voice that he'd been worried and upset. He wasn't usually so serious.
"Sorry," he muttered.
Hermione cut in. "He was in Godric's Hollow."
"That's a bit random. Why'd you go there?" Ron asked, sitting down in the chair next to Harry.
"I dunno. First place to pop into my head, I suppose."
"Why'd you come back?"
"Luna said we should." The words popped out of his mouth before he could think. Listening to Luna seemed like the most natural thing for him to do.
"Luna?" Ron said, dumbstruck. "You don't mean to tell me-"
"Ron," Hermione interjected. "The food's getting cold. You can catch up with Harry later." Harry knew that Hermione understood that Harry would want a man-to-man talk with Ron without Hermione there, and Harry quickly shot her a look that read, "Thank you."
Ron was still eyeing Harry suspiciously, but never one to turn down food, he began inhaling the contents of his plate. Harry followed suit, and Hermione smiled, shook her head, and chortled, "Boys…"
After dinner, Hermione continued on her now nearly 70-page-long Ministry proposal, and Ron and Harry went into the guest bedroom to talk. The storm had died down a bit, so it was no longer necessary to scream over the tumultuous gusts of wind. Harry conjured two squashy velvet armchairs to squeeze into the relatively small bedroom, and he and Ron sat.
"So," began Ron, obviously trying to be nonchalant, "it's you and Loony Lovegood now, is it?"
"Way to be subtle, Ron!" Hermione called from the kitchen.
"Muffliato!" Harry whispered, pointing his wand at the door.
"Thanks, mate," Ron said, laughing.
"What happened?" Harry asked, remembering Luna's words that learning the whole truth, no matter how ugly, could bring closure.
"When?"
"After I-"
"After you split? Well, she - Ginny - and Longbottom came in, and everything was really silent for a bit, and then-"
"Aspro flew in."
"How'd you know that?"
"Luna."
"Ah. Well, everyone just sat there, y'know, kind of unable to speak, 'cause everyone knew what had happened but no one wanted to say it, of course. Dean and Seamus disapparated without so much as a second look, those prats, and then Luna followed suit - that's when she found you, I 'spect," he recounted. Harry nodded, and Ron continued, "George told Angelina to meet him back at his place, the little room over the Joke Shop, that this was a family matter, so she took some Floo powder and was gone before you could say Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and Lee took the hint and got on that broomstick of his and left. Hermione was crying, and I was comforting her…" Harry noticed a slight grin at this part. "And you wouldn't believe this, Harry, but Ginny and George got into a bit of a shouting match…"
"Blimey, I haven't seen George angry at Ginny since I've known him," Harry exclaimed, feeling guilty for causing an argument amongst two Weasleys - the Weasleys had always been like family to Harry, and were extremely tight knit.
"It's not your fault, mate, he's been angry at her ever since it happened. You're like a brother to him… You're like a brother to me. I'd choose to be on good terms with you rather than on good terms with Ginny any day, trust me. She's always been a bit of a pain, really."
"What did they say to each other?"
"He told her she was an inconsiderate little scrubber, and that if there was a Dumbledore's Army reunion at our house, even a troll could figure out that Harry would be there," Ron said, half-smiling. "It gets better," he added, glancing at Harry's awed expression. "She said that she'd been a loyal member of Dumbledore's Army from the moment it was founded, so she should've been welcome. And George says, 'Yeah, we all know how loyal you've been to its founder,' so she pulls out her wand. You should've seen Longbottom, he was backed into a corner, Hermione had just pulled her wand on him. Ginny lost it and started yelling some curse at Hermione, which of course, the most brilliant witch of our time quickly blocked. So she turned on George and started muttering something. He was quicker, though, and let's just say that Ginny had to've learned her Bat-Bogey hexes from someone."
"So she and Neville, they left right then?" Harry asked, unsuccessfully attempting to stifle a snicker.
"Yeah. It was in their best interest. Hermione yelled that she'd taken Ginny and Neville off the Christmas card list. I think she was really upset about that," Ron said wryly.
"Sorry for destroying the reunion, mate," Harry laughed.
"Wouldn't've been one without you. Anyhow, it's your turn. Loony - er - Luna found you in Godric's Hollow. Was there snogging?"
"No," said Harry, much to Ron's disappointment. "She calmed me down a bit, got me seeing clear again, and then we… kind of… fell asleep. On a bench."
Ron sniggered. "Very classy, Harry. You know exactly how to charm witches, that's for sure."
"She didn't mind!" Harry insisted. "She gets me, you know? Better than Ginny ever has," he added without thinking. He didn't mean to compare Ginny to Luna… Right? he asked himself.
"Do you fancy her, then? I don't see why you wouldn't, if she gets you," he replied, mocking Harry, yet his words had underlying seriousness, and Harry could tell he was curious.
"I dunno."
"How do you 'xpect to ever know?"
"What do you mean?"
"It's obvious, isn't it? Ask her to go someplace with you!"
"I'd never take her somewhere she'd enjoy - she's too-"
"Loony?"
"Unique."
"There's got to be something. Go hunting for blimpies, or plimbles, or whatever they're called."
"Freshwater plimpies?"
"I'm starting to think you really are hung up on her, mate," Ron said. "But it might be a good thing, y'know? You two are both a bit off your rockers."
"Me?" Harry sputtered. "You've had too much firewhiskey."
"No, I'm serious! You said it yourself. Not many people understand you well. And no one really understands Luna, she just doesn't say anything about it. Take my advice. Ask her out, as friends, maybe. And after a while, see if you think you can handle more," he finished with a smirk, prompting Harry to punch him on the arm.
"Think about it," Ron urged. "I'm off to bed. I'd try to convince Hermione to get some sleep, but she prolly thinks the ten-thousandth page of her proposal is more important than such worldly needs like sleeping." He patted Harry on the back and was gone. Harry crawled into his soft, springy bed, wrapped himself in a warm quilt, and drifted into a dream-filled sleep. He couldn't remember exactly what he'd dreamt about, but it was filled with gargantuan grey eyes and cascades of mint-green cloth…
The next couple of weeks passed smoothly and quickly. Harry began returning to work, where he was welcomed back with a tight hug from none other than the Minister of Magic himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt. There weren't any very powerful or skilled dark wizards to exterminate, so Harry and Ron focused on ways to make the Ministry less corrupt than it had been in the past. The Minister took all of their suggestions to heart, and at the end of each day they felt more and more satisfied. There were some hours when Harry's mind would not wander once to Ginevra Weasley or Neville Longbottom. Ron and Hermione seemed to notice Harry's positive change in attitude and behavior, and more often than not, their nights were spent laughing and joking and talking for hours, as it had been when they were younger and carefree. The only thing that nagged Harry, in the corner of his mind, was that he hadn't seen Luna since that rainy Sunday morning. It had now been exactly two weeks later, and on Sundays especially, he urged himself to hurry up and ask Luna out. As friends, he reminded himself. Just as friends…
As he was lying in his bed, enveloped in blankets to shield him from the ruthless cold, pondering what he should do about Luna, he noticed something flying at his bedroom window, slowly coming closer, flapping its dust-colored wings assiduously but for some reason, not travelling very far.
"Errol?" he mussitated, and indeed, it was Errol, the Weasleys' poor old owl, seemingly on its last leg but still remaining alive after so many years. Harry quickly pushed open the heavy window so Errol wouldn't crash (and probably die, he thought to himself).
Errol flew in and collapsed onto the ground the second Harry seized the letter from him. "Ron!" Harry called into the hallway. "Errol's collapsed!"
"That bloody bird's back?" Ron shouted in disbelief, sprinting into the room, seeing Errol on the ground, shaking his head, and finally seeing Harry holding the letter. "What did mum send a letter for? She usually doesn't mind showing up here, intruding on us whenever she sees fit…"
"The letter's addressed to me…" Harry noticed.
Ron's eyes became wider. "You sure you want to read that, mate?"
Harry nodded. "Go take Errol to Hermione. She'll know what to do. Aspro's gone again, so they can't go hunting together…"
His voice trailed off. Ron quickly pointed his wand at Errol, said, "Wingardium Leviosa!" just the way Hermione taught him, and left the room with the owl floating behind him, as he obviously didn't want to touch the mangled bird's unconscious body.
Harry quickly tore the envelope, unfolded the letter, and began to read.
Dearest Harry,
I'd love to catch up over a cup of tea. As soon as you read this, would you be so kind as to come to the Burrow so we can talk? Use the Floo Network. Arthur and I are in the kitchen.
Lots of love,
Molly
Harry's stomach seemed to shake with the speedy beating of his heart. What could she possibly want to talk about? Harry wondered. He ran into the kitchen, where Hermione had somehow revived Errol and was feeding her, and Ron was standing about a yard away with a disgusted look on his face. He gestured to Ron and showed him the letter.
"Don't go, mate!" Ron whispered.
"Don't go where?" Hermione said, suspiciously glaring at Harry and Ron.
"Oh - don't worry about it-" Harry replied, trying to sound inconspicuous, but Hermione was never fooled.
"Accio Harry's letter!" she shouted, pointing her wand at Harry, before he could even realize what was going on.
"How'd you get so quick?" Ron said in awe.
"Practice," she muttered, and read the letter. A shocked expression appeared on her face in no more than two seconds. "Harry, you've got to go!"
"I knew you'd say that," Harry grumbled.
"Just go. Please? I feel bad for Molly. After all that's happened to the family in the past couple of years… You were like a son to her, and you haven't talked to her in over a month! It's not her fault Ginny cheated."
Harry felt extremely guilty and instantly knew Hermione was right. He'd have to go visit Mrs. Weasley. Now. He numbly grabbed a handful of Floo powder out of the jar next to the kitchen fireplace, tossed it in, yelled as clearly as he could, "The Burrow!" and stepped into the smaragdine flames, coughing and wheezing.
When he stumbled out of the fireplace in the Burrow, he was covered in atrous soot and coughing harder than ever. He never did like using the Floo Network as means of transportation ever since he was twelve, when he got lost in Knockturn Alley when he meant to go to Diagon Alley. He dusted himself off, patted down his constantly unruly hair, and adjusted his glasses.
"Molly, I heard something near the fireplace. He must be here," Harry heard Arthur Weasley call from the kitchen. He heard a strident noise that could only mean someone had disapparated, and within a split second, Molly Weasley was standing a few feet away from where Harry stood, still dusting himself off and trying to seem more presentable.
"Hullo, Mrs. Weasley. How've you been?" Harry asked politely, managing a slight smile.
Molly made a quiet whimpering noise and sprinted up to Harry, wrapping him in an uncomfortably tight hug. "Harry! I've missed you so much… You've lost weight… You're still so handsome, and polite, and - I'm so sorry!" Her eyes were swimming with tears. She was just as emotional as Harry remembered.
"Why are you sorry?" he mumbled without thinking. Ginny had never apologized for anything she had done, yet her mother was apologizing for showing so much care and affection and support to Harry since he was a little boy.
"I had no idea she would ever-"
"It's fine, Mrs. Weasley, it really is," Harry said sincerely. "We've both moved on." And then the truth hit Harry like the Whomping Willow. He had moved on from Ginny. He didn't want her back, like he had for tear-filled weeks after it had happened. He despised her. He never wanted to speak to her again. He wanted no part of her. Harry had always been loyal to his friends. Loyalty. It was one thing Ginny lacked. Yes, Harry concluded. I've moved on. But have I gotten over it?
And he realized in his head that moving on and getting over someone were two wholly different things. Moving on, was, like Hermione had said, closing the chapter of loving them, and finding someone else. Getting over someone must mean not thinking about them as often anymore. Not hating them; just not caring about them. I'm not quite there, thought Harry. But I will be. It's only a matter of time…
"Moved on?" Mrs. Weasley said, taken aback. Harry finally realized she was still there, and refocused.
"Yeah… I thought you'd've been happy about it. Ginny's happy. I'm happy, or getting there… So what's wrong?"
"Well, we - Arthur and I, I mean - thought that you and Ginny would get back-"
"Get back together?" Harry spat. "She - she broke my heart! She destroyed me. I was gone for weeks, and she hasn't said so much as a 'sorry' to me!"
"She tried, Harry, dear, but you left before-"
"Before she could explain that she loved Neville-"
"It was a mistake-"
"She doesn't think so, parading around town with him attached to her. She's infatuated. Where is she now? Out with him, I 'spect? Well, that's just great. No offense, Mrs. Weasley, but I don't want her anymore," he finished, feeling a twinge of guilt at the look on Molly's face. It was beyond anger, beyond grief...
"You both need to calm down," Arthur Weasley said sternly. He must have apparated in, Harry thought. We were both just so loud we didn't hear him…
Harry nodded in Mr. Weasley's direction, which he thought sufficed as a greeting at the moment. "Sorry."
"Molly, I think you should go sit down in the kitchen," he said in a voice so strict and orderly and stern for Arthur Weasley. It was a voice Harry had never heard before.
Molly didn't dare argue. Harry could tell from the look on her face that she had never heard this voice before, either. She left at once.
"Muffliato!" Mr. Weasley whispered, pointing the wand at the door Mrs. Weasley had just exited from. The spell ensured that no one could overhear their conversation.
"Are - are you going to kill me?" Harry asked, half-joking.
Mr. Weasley laughed and shook his head. "Harry, I really love you. You've been like a son to me for years. Molly sees you as a son, too, and I think that's why she's so hung up on you marrying Ginny; so it can be official. I just wanted to tell you that I'm happy you've moved on. Ginny was - well - a blithering idiot. I'm glad that you're finally content without her. Whatever choices you make, I'll do my best to stand behind them. You're a good man. You saved my life. I haven't forgotten." And without thinking, he, too, gave Harry an uncomfortably snug, fatherly embrace.
Harry smiled. Mr. Weasley was the closest thing Harry had to a father after Sirius had died. "Thanks, Mr. Weasley," Harry responded genuinely.
"Please - call me Arthur. You're a man now," he said, chuckling. "You should go now - Ron's probably worried sick that we're torturing you. D'you need some Floo powder?"
Harry considered for a moment. His eyes landed upon the window in the room, overlooking the quiet village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Then, an idea suddenly sprouted in his head. "No, thank you, Mr. Weas- Arthur… I think I'm going to walk."
Arthur looked at Harry as though he was off his rocker. "Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.
"I'm fine. It's just such a nice day-"
"It's freezing!"
"The view's nice - walking would be a nice change - there's so much to see…"
"Well," said Arthur, not thoroughly convinced that Harry was thinking clearly, "be safe."
"I'm feeling lucky," Harry said, and at that moment, all the pieces fit together in his head. "I've got to go!" He quickly thanked Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and dashed out of the house and down the road. He was fairly sure that Arthur and Molly were watching him as if he were a crazy man. Harry was starting to think that he was, but he had to take this chance. He was just so sure that he'd see her-
He couldn't think clearly… He was past the Burrow… He couldn't see clearly… He ran over a hill… His ears felt numb, he couldn't bend his fingers… He was crossing through the outskirts of the forest… His breath was a cloud… He wasn't running anywhere in particularly, really. His feet were ahead of his mind. He was following them, hoping they'd take him to the person he needed to see. He was overcome with a random surge of confidence. He was panting and his heart was thudding, threatening to pop out of his chest… He wasn't sure if it was all from the running or from the possibility that he might see-
THUD.
Harry flew back, his spectacles flying off of his face. After what his rushing adrenaline made him think was an eternity in the brisk autumn air, he landed on his back in a small forest clearing, where chartreuse-colored grass grew sparsely in clumps. The ground was damp and muddy, and he realized he was near a pond. His vision was foggy and blurred, not only because of his glasses being knocked off, but because he was still seeing stars. There was a dull pain in his left-hand thumb - he had landed on it oddly. He struggled to get onto his feet, his jeans weighed down by the moist muck stuck to them.
A pallid arm was outstretched in front of Harry. Before he could think clearly, he held it, and it hoisted him back on his shaking feet.
"Episkey," a calm, dreamy voice said quietly, and Harry felt his thumb tingling, getting very hot and then extremely cold, and finally it was healed.
"Acc - Acci," Harry tried to say, but his head was still spinning.
"Accio Harry Potter's glasses," the voice said, and within a few seconds, Harry felt someone placing his mangled glasses back on his head.
"Reparo," the girl said.
Harry's vision zoomed into focus, his whirling head finally coming to a halt.
Luna Lovegood was standing no more than a foot away from Harry.
"Luna?" Harry uttered in disbelief. It was who he wanted to see, but he didn't want it to be like this.
"Shhh. You're just a bit disoriented. I didn't know who was coming, so I cast a powerful shield charm, and you ran right into it…"
"At least you're okay," Harry said, and he meant it.
"I was fishing for-"
"Freshwater plimpies," he finished for her.
"They're not biting very well today…"
Harry's legs gave out and he collapsed. Luna frowned.
"Come to my house," she demanded. Harry knew firsthand how firm and unyielding she could be when she was concerned for the safety of a friend, or when she wanted to help. "It's right around the bend… Daddy says you've visited before…"
She wrapped her arm around him and he was able to limp his way to the Lovegoods' home. When they arrived at the rook-shaped stone house, it brought back memories of when Xenophilius Lovegood set him up to be captured by Death Eaters… Harry held no ill will towards him, however. Mr. Lovegood was simply very desperate; they had captured Luna and were holding her hostage at Malfoy Manor.
"Daddy!" she called as they entered the house and sat Harry down in a comfortable, weirdly bright purple couch.
"Yes, Luna, what is it? Did you catch any plimpies?" came a man's voice from upstairs.
"No, I'm afraid not, I think an Umgubular Slashkilter got to them before us-"
"Such a shame. I was looking forward to making soup for dinner…"
"Daddy, Harry Potter's here."
Harry heard the noise of something exceptionally large being dropped, and Harry laughed.
"Wh-what d-does he want with us?" Xenophilius stammered, cautiously descending from the staircase.
"He's hurt! He ran into my shield charm!"
Xenophilius came down the steps and finally showed himself. His white-blonde hair had gotten longer, and he no longer looked tired and broken, as he had the last time Harry saw him. He was wearing purple robes so bright that they outshone the tacky sofa. "Harry… Nice to see you again."
Harry nodded in his direction.
"Could you help him, Daddy? He's shaking," Luna said, looking upset.
"Ah, that's just the shock of hitting a shield. Nothing that shouldn't be bettered by a nice cup of afternoon tea. I'll bring it out soon. We've got some nice herbs from Greece," he said quickly, dashing out of the room.
"He's sorry, you know," Luna told Harry after a while.
"I know. I'm not mad at him, really," Harry responded, trying to cover his quavering voice. "He must not be as good as you at reading people."
"I don't read all people so well - just you, mostly…"
Harry was flattered. "I don't understand people at all, 'specially witches," he laughed. "But you aren't like other witches. You - you can't be classified."
"Some would say that's a bad thing… Most people don't seem to take me seriously," she responded in her singsong voice, but Harry heard it droop towards the end of what she said; he pictured her voice as a beautiful flower.
"I take you seriously. You're wonderful," he said without thinking.
"That's nice," she smiled, and Harry pictured the flower blooming. He heard Xenophilius pouring tea into mugs, and he realized that this was his chance.
"Luna, I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere - with me, y'know, maybe on Halloween?"
"That sounds exciting," she replied. Harry began to question whether she was listening - her voice always made her sound a million miles away. "Where?" she added, and Harry regained confidence that she actually did think it sounded exciting. An idea hatched in his mind.
"I was thinking that we could throw a Dumbledore's Army reunion Halloween party. It would be a real reunion this time. No interruptions. More people invited. What do you think?"
"I think it's a splendid idea. I need to start thinking of a costume! We've barely more than a week!"
"I'll send out invitations. Let's have it at the Three Broomsticks, in one of the private rooms. All the butterbeer and firewhiskey on me. How does seven o'clock sound?" Harry was getting more excited by the second.
"I'll be there," she said excitedly.
"Well - about that…" Harry began cautiously. "It's a party. So, I was wondering if you'd want to go with me. Just as friends, of course," he added in quickly.
"Of course! It'll be the second time I go to a party with you as just friends! I'm excited!" she answered.
Harry was grinning from ear to ear when Xenophilius, eyeing Harry warily, came back with the Greek tea. Harry drank the savory tea one gulp, anxious to go tell Ron and Hermione the news. He thanked the Lovegoods and said his goodbyes, then apparated with a crack, feeling better than he had all day.
"You don't mean to tell me that she knocked you out?" Ron asked, laughing hysterically. "Nice one, mate. You've always been great with girls."
"Oh, shut up, Ron! This is great for Harry!" Hermione cut in. "Of course we'll be at the party. I've got to get Ron a new pair of dress robes…"
"I'll go as long as you stick to your promise of paying for all of the firewhiskey and butterbeer a man can drink," Ron said. Harry rolled his eyes. It was no secret that his parents left him more money than he could spend in a lifetime. "Hey, I'm happy for you," Ron said seriously. "Maybe mum'll finally shut up about you and Ginny. I've got to remember to thank Dad." Harry nodded and laughed, and they went to sleep - it took merely seconds for Harry to fall into a deep slumber after such a day.
Harry spent the next week seemingly more with Luna than with Ron and Hermione. Not only did he feel this gave them some privacy, as he despised feeling like an intruder, but he got to know more about Luna minute by minute, day by day. They were closer friends than they had ever been, and Harry found himself thinking about Ginny and Neville less each passing day, much to his enjoyment.
On Tuesday, Luna showed him around the forest, pointing out odd little creatures he never knew existed, or never paid attention to. They took a rest near the calm, clear brook where Luna would fish, and she showed him the different fish that passed by and which ones made good soup and which ones had useful blood or venom and which ones were the smartest. The cerulean sky seemed to reflect onto Luna's eyes, and they looked cesious when she gazed upwards, describing the different shapes of the clouds and predicting the weather that was to come.
On Wednesday, she was describing her expeditions to Sweden with her father; they often went looking for Crumple Horned Snorkacks, but had not found one yet. "It's just a matter of time… We got really close on our last trip, I could feel it…"
On Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, Harry sat in Luna's room and watched her create her costume - she was going as Rowena Ravenclaw. They didn't have to talk the whole time; he just enjoyed watching her work sometimes, waving her wand and watching the dress come together, seeing her shining grey eyes focus, her lips pursed in concentration. One thing he liked about Luna was that she didn't have to be blabbing all the time. Unspoken communication was becoming regular among Harry and Luna. She knew what he meant simply from the look on his face. There was no lying, deceit, or trickery; even if he wanted to, he couldn't. She's simply too brilliant, he thought when his mind wandered to the subject. I wonder if she knows I… But he forced himself to stop there. Did he really fancy her? He wasn't sure himself. Was he supposed to wait until he completely got over Ginny to fancy someone else? He wasn't sure. He made a mental note to ask Hermione later. After all, he did feel a twinge of pure hatred when he thought of her, and once when he thought of Neville, even jealousy. What does he have that I don't? Why is he better than me? Why could he get Ginny and Luna, while the first broke my heart and the latter probably will when she rejects me? But I have to fancy her for her to reject me… We're just friends! He forced his mind to shut up, thinking that Luna would read his mind and thoughts by just looking at him. He'd never seen Luna be truly mean to anyone before, making the fact that she could possibly turn him down bother him infinite times more - would he be the first person Luna Lovegood was ever mean to? After a few minutes of deliberation, like this on Saturday night, he looked up and realized Luna had finished the dress.
She had fashioned radiant midnight blue satin into a beautiful, ruffled, billowing gown dusted with what looked like diamonds. "It's stunning," Harry said in awe and admiration.
"Of course, I have the diadem to complete the look. Not the real one; you destroyed that. But now I know what it really looks like. So Daddy helped me make this one last night," she said, holding out a gorgeous, majestic silver circlet with huge sapphires in the center and diamonds encrusted on the sides. "If you look really closely, it says, 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure' on the bottom," she said softly, her faraway voice full of wonder and pride.
Harry had always been convinced that Luna was more of a Gryffindor than a Ravenclaw. She was unbelievably brave and daring, and extremely loyal and fiercely protective of her friends, albeit she didn't have many. However, she was capable of seeing what most could not, and discovering and analyzing what others would usually miss, which was probably why she was a Ravenclaw. Harry mused about where Luna would fit better for a while, until she finally said, "My mother was a Gryffindor. My father was a Ravenclaw. The Sorting Hat seriously considered Gryffindor, but finally decided I'd learn more as a Ravenclaw. It's a bit odd that the exact opposite happened to Hermione, don't you think, since we're like exact opposites? The Sorting Hat considered both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, but decided on Gryffindor because it believed she would do better in that house. It's funny, isn't it, how a hat can always be right?"
"It wanted to put me in Slytherin. I asked it not to, so it didn't. It takes our choices into consideration if it really means a lot to you. I wonder what I'd be like in Slytherin…"
"Voldemort very well might be alive right now. You'd make an awful Slytherin anyways. You're too… bold and chivalrous. You're the quintessential Gryffindor."
"Thanks, Luna," Harry said happily.
"It's just the truth," she responded in her distinct voice - it constantly made her sound like she was only slightly interested, which put Harry on edge but also rather excited him. She was different than all the other witches who liked Harry and seemed to hang on his every word. He liked it. He pictured a beautiful flower again, soaking up sunlight in its own world, deaf to what others thought. That night, Harry went home flabbergasted, as he always had after spending time with Luna, and received multiple punches from Ron to bring him back into reality, which seemed almost dull without Luna Lovegood.
Finally, it was Halloween, and myriads of witches and wizards filled Hogsmeade, which was apparently the place to go on All Hallow's Eve. The Three Broomsticks was overcrowded, and people spilling out of the front door; pitchers of drink were constantly shattering due to the pushing, shoving, and spell-casting. Decorations included Jack-O-Lanterns bigger than Hermione, skeletons that danced, and tiny toy broomsticks floating around the room, dropping candy on unwary partygoers. When Harry, Luna, Ron, and Hermione finally reached their private party room, Harry gazed around, astounded at how everyone had changed so much in a few years - he also thought it interesting to see who ended up with who, and noted that most couples were from the same house.
Among the present were, of course, Harry in tasteful, modern, sable dress robes, with Luna in her Rowena Ravenclaw costume, outshining every other witch in the room who eyed her with jealousy, Ron with Hermione, both not in costume but in matching black and orange dress robes (much to Ron's disgust), Angelina with George, who had wrapped his head with bandages and seemingly had an arrow in his head (where his missing ear was), Alicia Spinnet with Lee Jordan, Dean Thomas with Katie Bell, Seamus Finnigan with Lavender Brown, Dennis Creevey, who was taking pictures of unsuspecting witches and wizards, Romilda Vane, alone and eyeing Harry hungrily, Parvati and Padma Patil, still attached at the hip, with Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein, respectively, Cho Chang with Michael Corner, Ernie Macmillan with Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones.
They took a few minutes to catch up with everyone; Harry endured an awkward conversation with Cho, but couldn't bring himself to speak to Romilda Vane out of fear she'd spike his drink with love potion, and Ron and Hermione ignored Lavender whilst greeting Seamus. Ron and Harry also avoided having a drawn-out conversation with the Patil twins by coming up with the excuse that they were just on their way to get Hermione and Luna drinks, while the fact of the matter was that Ron had already gotten Hermione butterbeer, which was fairly obvious since she was merely a few yards away, and Luna didn't believe in drinking butterbeer or firewhiskey out of fear that the smell of either drink would attract certain obscure magical creatures Harry had never heard of and couldn't remember the names of.
Then, Harry's eyes passed over a couple in the corner of the room, and his mouth dropped open in bewilderment, so much so that he was surprised he didn't feel his jaw hit the floor.
Neville and Ginny were in the corner, his arm around her waist, whispering into each other's ears, laughing, giggling, drinking, and snogging.
His heart filled with instant animosity. They weren't even invited. What are they doing here? Are they purposely trying to make my life miserable? he thought, disgusted.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, seeing his expression. Luna took a glance at him and instantly knew.
"Hermione," she whispered. "You might want to look over there, in the right corner…"
"Where? I can't see, Lee's head is blocking - WHAT IS SHE DOING HERE?" Hermione screamed, spitting out butterbeer, and Ron's face distorting into a mixture of irritation and disbelief. "We sent out invitations," Hermione hissed.
"How many hints did we have to give those prats the last time they crashed a get-together?" Ron groaned, downing his second bottle of firewhiskey.
A few of the guests turned and looked, and Harry saw George slipping away from Angelina after a quick kiss and rushing towards Ginny.
"Luna, what should I-" he began to ask, but noticed that Luna was already gone. All he saw was a wave of sparkling midnight-blue fabric and locks of wavy blonde hair bouncing quickly towards the right corner of the room. "'Luna - don't-"
Before Harry knew what was going on, there was a rift in the crowd - they had stepped aside as Luna pulled her wand, pointing it directly at Ginny, who wore a look of utter disbelief.
"Luna?" Ginny said, inhaling sharply. "After all these years? I thought we were friends!"
"I thought you loved Harry as much as he loved you. You broke his heart without a second thought and never apologized. That wasn't very nice," Luna said seriously. The last time Harry heard her speak like this was when Hermione inadvertently insulted Luna's father and his magazine, but Luna seemed even angrier now. Harry realized he had lived to see the day where Luna was truly angered. She was a great fighter when she wasn't mad - Harry wondered how she'd fight now.
Before Ginny could say anything more, Neville walked next to her and pulled out his wand, pointing it at Luna. Ginny copied him, and Harry instinctively responded by pulling his wand on Neville, his temper roaring. Sparks seemed to fly out of his wand before he could think of a spell - anger clouded his judgment. "No one hurts Luna," spat Harry. Neville sneered at him and Ginny shot a hex from her wand that was easily blocked by Luna's silently conjured shield.
Then, the crowd gasped, as if it were some sort of show, when the unthinkable happened - George and Ron pulled out their wands and pointed them at Ginny and Neville. George had become closer to Luna since the Battle of Hogwarts, and Ron had been friends with her since his fifth year. Still, it shocked Harry that they wouldn't protect their own sister, even if they were upset with her, but he was grateful. Hermione quickly followed suit, pulling her wand on her sister-in-law after a moment of hesitancy. Harry could tell that she wanted to keep the peace for as long as possible, but tempers were rising.
"You'd think after You-Know-Who was killed, there'd be some peace for Harry," Lee shouted. "God knows he deserves it, after what he's been through. Ginny, Longbottom - just leave."
"Yeah, don't be such a git, Neville," Terry Boot cut in.
"Let Harry enjoy his date with Loony - er - Luna," Cho remarked loudly, much to Harry's surprise. He glanced in her direction and their eyes met for an awkward moment.
"Get out, why don'tcha, and stop standing there, you complete arse, Longbottom. And take your scrubber of a girlfriend with you," Seamus yelled. Everyone gasped in shock at his foul language and blunt rudeness except for Lavender, who giggled and kissed him on the cheek.
"That's it!" Neville roared, and before anyone could realize what was happening, jets of various colors were shooting from wands - first just Seamus' to protect himself from Neville's curse and blow him back into a wall, then from Ginny's to Lavender, who ducked quickly and shot one back that missed, then Luna at Ginny to catch her off guard, which worked quite well, as she went flying right into Neville and they both collapsed onto the floor. As they got back up, Ginny shot a series of spells at both Seamus and Luna, one narrowly missing her head, and one hitting Seamus and knocking him unconscious. Lavender screamed, and Harry quickly revived Seamus.
George had met up with Angelina again and put a shield around her. "I can't let you get hurt! Disapparate! Now!" he ordered, and she obeyed without arguing. Harry hardly ever heard George so serious. Ron and Hermione were now blocking curses from Neville and ordering people to evacuate, and amongst all the screaming and tears and shattering and cracks from people disapparating, and chunks of Jack-O-Lantern and stray bones littering the floor, Luna hit Neville squarely in the chest with a spell so strong it blasted him into the next room, destroying the wall.
"That felt good," she said quietly to herself, and Harry was sure he'd only heard because he was watching her carefully, never moving more than a few feet away. Harry's eyes landed on Ginny, who had been watching Luna stun Neville.
Harry could not believe the words Ginny muttered next.
"Crucio!" she shrieked over the commotion of collapsing wood and screaming witches and wizards. A beam of sanguineous light shot from her wand, and without thinking, Harry lunged for Luna, held her tightly around the waist, launched both of them to the side so that they missed the Cruciatus Curse by a hair, and fell to the ground. From the corner of his eye, Harry could see a revived Neville looking at Ginny, shocked… Then, Ginny aimed her wand at Luna once more and Harry realized that they needed to disapparate. He wasn't sure where they were headed - they just needed to get out. And then Harry and Luna were once more forced through the uncomfortable process of disapparating, and landed with a thud on what seemed like smooth, hard rock, and Harry felt as though his head had split open…
When Harry came to, Luna was, once again, already up. She hadn't hit her head, as she was on top of Harry, but she looked worried.
"Don't try getting up," Luna insisted just as Harry tried standing up. A sharp, stabbing pain engulfed his entire head and neck. "You hit your head hard… Thank you for saving me. That was nice. Can you speak? I'd like to talk to you. Dark cemeteries do tend to scare me a bit…"
"Wh-where are we?" Harry stammered. "I - sorry. Disapparated. First place I could think of, I s'pose-"
"It's okay… I'm thankful you saved me, and sorry you hurt your head. The Wrackspurts are relentless with you, Harry… I don't think the head injury is serious, but I'm not sure what I can do to help, unfortunately… Is it okay if I ask you why you were thinking about your parents' grave?"
"Is that where we landed? Why is it stone? They just have - tombstone…" He was out of breath after only a couple of sentences.
"You were close… You got a grave very close to theirs. Your parents' grave only has a tombstone, but this grave has a slab of stone on the ground with different Bible verses carved into them. They're really quite interesting, but I prefer your parents'. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. There's many ways to interpret that…"
"Neville's parents - insane - Cruciatus curse."
Luna nodded somberly. "That's really very sad. I'd prefer death over being insane…"
Harry almost laughed - nearly everyone already thought that Luna and her father were insane. "It wasn't right for Ginny to use it," he mustered, breathing heavily.
"Is that why you came here? Seeing Ginny try to do to me what Voldemort had ordered be done to Neville's parents made you think of who else Voldemort had killed. Naturally, your parents would come into your head," Luna said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Harry nodded. She understood completely. Harry paused just to take in her presence. Her skin glowed brightly under the stars, outshining all of them combined, in Harry's opinion. Her dress was a bit tattered and stained from the brawl at the Three Broomsticks, but her flawless beauty easily made up for it. She never had to wear any make-up like other girls did. When girls spent hours doing their hair, Luna wore hers without styling it, letting it cascade naturally down past her waist. He never really paid much attention to the features of her face - her slightly upturned nose, faint but perfectly arched eyebrows, the way her jaw line curved into her slightly dimpled chin. Her extraordinarily large, grey eyes seemed to be metallic silver in the moonlight, and Harry's mind came across an odd thought. Her eyes are like the sword of Godric Gryffindor… They only take in that which makes them stronger… Except, instead of stronger, maybe more enchantingly beautiful… He couldn't bear to move his eyes away from hers, and he hated that he had to blink - to take his eyes, for a minute, off of Luna, who seemed to get more stunningly attractive by the second in Harry's eyes -
"You look," Harry began, taking a pause to breathe, his head throbbing, "beautiful." He wasn't sure if his brain was swelling so much he had the inability to hold it in, or he was demented into having the type of confidence he'd have under Felix Felicis. Either way, he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, and they shut. It felt to Harry as though it would be easier to lift Hagrid with his own bare hands than re-open his eyes. He tried to relax, but between the heavy, speedy beating in his heart and the throbbing in his head, he realized that would not be possible.
"Thank you for taking me with you, Harry," Luna replied, and Harry could almost feel her vibrant smile. "But next time we go to a party," she continued, "would you mind not asking me as just a friend?"
Harry was finding it difficult to process the words, but his heart sped up, and joy began blooming inside of him; true bliss. Did I really hear that? Am I hallucinating?
He wished he could open his eyes. He wanted so badly to see her.
He wanted so badly to just gaze upon her once more - or perhaps a million times more-
And before Harry was entirely sure what was happening, he felt something soft press gently against his lips, and he felt his stomach explode with butterflies.
It can't be, he thought to himself. I'm dreaming. I should really go to St. Mungo's about this head injury…
He felt the lips float away from his. See? You're waking up.
"Just in case you weren't sure," an unmistakably dreamy voice whispered, "here's another hint."
Before he could bring himself back to earth after what seemed like eons in heaven and ask what was going on, or muster the strength to open his eyes and see for himself, he sensed Luna's lips once more touching his, and he felt her eyelashes brush his face, and their cheeks seemed to exchange warmth, and he never wanted to part from her. Harry was filled with a burning desire to stand up and hold her tightly and simply protect her from everything harmful in the world, and to call her his own, and for the first time in a long time, he didn't not give a beetle's eye about Ginevra Weasley and felt as though he would give his life for Luna Lovegood.