The stars faded into the earliest reaches of the dawn and the sun began to appear at the horizon, soft pinks and muted oranges. And that was when Luna finally slipped from Harry Potter's bed and padded, as quietly as she could, around his apartment, collecting her discarded items from the night before. She then returned to the bedroom so that she could dress while watching him, considering him, in all of the glories that sleep afforded him.
Luna pulled the straps of her bra over her shoulder, fitted herself back into the garment, and clasped the hooks behind her back, all the while studying him. There he was - sprawled and bare, innocent in the depths of his peace and Luna could not help but smile at him. In his own way, Harry was truly beautiful and the most brief memories of the night before made Luna reconsider sneaking away. Yes, she would much rather slide back under the sheets, wrap her mouth around him, and rouse him from his sleep.
She shivered, pushed the thoughts away, and pulled her jeans over her hips. Shirt over the head, and hair thrown into the messiest of braids, reaching the small of her back and with a quick swipe beneath her eyes, Luna erased the smudged make up. She grabbed her bag and turned to leave before stopping, reconsidering. Harry sighed softly in his sleep and she crept over, pushing his hair back from his forehead and leaning down, pressing the lightest of kisses to the scar that adorned his head like a jaded crown and then, finally, she left.
The pop instantly woke Harry. His eyes popped open and he turned, reaching for her - who? Ginny? Luna? - instinctively, only to find the bed empty, as always. And for the first time in a year, he felt alone.
