Quick A/N: This is my first fic ever. Well, at least the first I release to the public. It is also written in English (English is not my first language), for it both helps me develop my english writing skills as well as expands the so diminished universe of Lunary fics. It was not beta-read, so expect there to be spelling, semantics and/or syntax errors; I humbly ask you to point them out to me, as well as other constructive criticism, in the comments.

Of Emeralds and Pale Moons

Harry arrived at the entrance hall at eight o'clock, sulking inside but not letting it show through his expression. He was in a particular reflexive mood, and was starting to regret deciding to come to the party at all. A group of girls nearby were eyeing him, wearing varying degrees of resentful, envious and pitiful looks. He scowled and returned their glares, causing the group to avert their eyes, slightly abashed. It didn't take long, though, for them to start whispering rapidly, their eyes darting to someone at the top of the staircase, and Harry's eyes widened and his heart jolted involuntarily as he identified his date descending the stairs.

Luna was wearing a stunning, strapless cerulean-blue satin dress that fell all the way to her feet. She'd also refrained from using her Spectrespecs and radish earrings, instead opting for some discreet silver-jewelry earrings. She was using her dirty-blonde hair down, seemingly tidier. The mascara in her eyelashes and the mildly applied eyeliner and shadow framed her pale-moon eyes perfectly. Harry didn't care what the other girls were thinking; he was smiling, honestly surprised at how gorgeous the girl looked.

"Hi," he greeted his date. "You look stunning," he said, before she could greet him back. He tried not to sound too surprised, fearing she could take offense.

"Thank you, Harry. You look dashing, too," she smiled broadingly.

"Shall we go?" asked Harry, politely offering her his arm.

"Definitely. Wrackspurts are lurking around, we should take our leave," she pointed out seriously, before taking his extended arm. "Where is the party?"

"Slughorn's office. Let's get going." He guided her up the stairs, finally getting away from the stares and whispers. After a couple corners, Harry slowed his pace. "I'm sorry about before, uh, they —"

"Harry," she interrupted, giving his hand a soft squeeze. "I'm as used to people talking about me as you are. It's okay."

Harry nodded, saddened that she was right: they've both been the subject of gossip and nasty comments for years now. That thought made him feel strangely closer to his blonde friend. He eyed her in his peripheral vision, smiling (and almost tripping in the process). She was looking forward with a serene expression; from this angle, she looked angelical.

"Did you hear a vampire is supposedly coming to the party?" he asked after a couple moments.

"Oh, Rufus Scrimgeour?" asked Luna.

"I — what?" said Harry, dumbfounded. "As in, the Minister of Magic?"

"Yes, he's a vampire," she said matter-of-factly. "Though few do know it. Father wrote an extensive article…" she went on about how the Ministry was supposedly covering the truth, it being that Scrimgeour was a vampire. Harry doubted it to be true, but he was used to Luna repeating her father's ludicrous views, and honestly was not in the mood to argue, as the sounds of music, laughter and voices indicated that they were approaching Slughorn's Office. Maybe this night wouldn't be so bad at all.

"Look, we're here! It is beautiful!" she exclaimed. And, in fact, it was.

The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light. [...] [Half-Blood Prince, p.315]

"Harry, m'boy!" he cringed at the familiar voice calling for him. A few seconds later, they were dragged by Slughorn into a semi-circle of people Harry had never seen before. So much for his plan of enjoying the night.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine…" but Harry's eyes, instead, darted to the tall, dark-looking figure by the side of whoever the hell Slughorn was eagerly presenting him to. It was most definitely the vampire he'd heard about; his name was apparently Sanguini, and he looked as bored as Harry himself was while being greeted by said Mr. Worple.

"I was saying to Professor Slughorn only the other day, 'Where is the biography of Harry Potter for which we have all been waiting?'" said the small, bespectacled man.

"Er," Harry squinted his eyes in confusion, "were you?"

"Just as modest as Horace described!" cried the man. "But seriously" — the man became all business-like — "I'd be delighted to write it myself — people are craving to know more about you, my dear boy! Craving! Just a few interviews will suffice, we could have the book finished in a matter of months!"

"I'm definitely not—" Harry started, but the man cut in, already sensing the negative.

"Oh, no need to make your decision in the heat of the moment! Take your time to chew over it!" the man added hastily, hubbing his hands. "I'm just saying, it's better to hear it all from you than someone else's mouth, don't you agree?" he asked, and Harry couldn't tell by his tone if it was advice or a threat. He frowned.

A moment later, the man returned to his business-like manner as if nothing had been said. "Imagine! 'The Magical Life of Harry Potter: Authorized Biography of The Boy Who Lived'! The childhood of the Chosen One! His first challenges in Hogwarts! Blood-chilling adventures! From ostracism to the Ministry's poster-boy! The epic fight against You-Know-Who! Fame, family, future! Love interests…" The man kept going on, saying it all with such enthusiasm that he completely missed Harry's expression darkening exponentially with every sentence he'd say.

The man seemed to realize he'd said something wrong, as he pathetically tried to amend the unamendable. "But there's no need to enter into detail, you see — we'd just throw a bone to satiate the masses, I mean —"

"I'm going to get a drink," cut Harry's ice-cold voice. He abruptly turned his back on them, his expression signaling he had not the tiniest intention of getting back there.

He wandered through the groups of witches and wizards, recognizing some in a glimpse, but paying no attention to anyone in particular. His head was full and he felt nauseated. He took his Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket, not caring if someone could see him, and threw it over his head. He headed to the bar counter, where a sullen looking goblin was cleaning some cups, looking particularly annoyed.

"Butterbeer, Firewhisky, Dragon Scale, Mead?" he asked, not even looking up from his cleansing as Harry sat at the stool by the counter. Harry was not surprised that the goblin could tell he'd sit there, even though he was invisible.

"Maybe later, thank you," Harry muttered back, receiving no answer from the goblin. He sighed heavily.

It was hard to understand what he was feeling. The beauty of the room around him suddenly couldn't reach him anymore; he felt so shallow, and yet, at the same time, the pit was so deep he could get engulfed and drown out in it.

"You look sad. Care if I sit with you?" Luna whispered, surprising him out of his brooding.

"Oh, sure," was all Harry managed to say. He didn't want to talk right now, mostly because he was still too troubled at the words he'd just heard, but somehow he was not annoyed by Luna's presence. She had such a calming aura around her. "I'm sorry I left you alone there."

"Oh, it's okay. The vampire was rather entertaining."

"How did you know I was here?" Harry asked, starting to wonder why he'd even brought the cloak if everybody seemed to know where he was.

"If I told you, would you believe me?," she asked simply.

Harry considered her answer. Luna often said and did things which were difficult to believe; yet, after the thestrals — and after the voices behind the Veil — Harry began to question if this was the truth, after all. Were Luna's views and opinions really that ludicrous? "Of course I would, Luna. You're my friend."

Luna smiled, seemingly relishing on being called his friend, but still didn't elaborate. She simply sat by his side, while the annoyed goblin asked her if she wanted something to drink, and why nobody in the bar counter was actually getting drinks.

"Can I keep this a little? I didn't want anybody to see me. If it's okay with you, I mean — it must be strange talking to no one, isn't it?" Harry offered the girl. He really didn't want to be seen by others right now, but didn't want to be rude with her either.

"Silly, Harry! You aren't no one. You are someone," said the girl, with her usual matter-of-factly tone. Harry sighed. He hadn't meant it in that way, but he loved the way she thought about things. "Yeah, I think you are right," he responded.

But he couldn't stop the stream of sadness from flowing back through his mind. He kept quiet for some long moments. Luna sat by his side, mimicking his posture and looking at the enchanted ceiling of the room. The little part of him aware of the present moment was glad for her patience.

The words 'Magical Life of Harry Potter' were still engraved in his mind. Magical…? Yes, he was glad that there was more to life than his miserable existence prior to the Wizarding world… and yet, now it all felt like it didn't even matter anymore. Wizard or not, famous or not… had him been happier, after all? Surely his present life was better than living in a toxic house with abusive relatives. But, all things considered, he had suffered more in his past couple 'magical' years than in all of his previous years combined.

Having discovered his parent's real cause of death, only for it to be his own death sentence — in the aim of a mass murderer. Having discovered he was famous, only for it to be a curse — turning the media, the government and even friends against him. Having met Sirius, only to have him taken away from him. Having met so many friends, only for them to suffer from constant mortal peril just for being friends with him — being he, Harry, the only one capable of ending this suffering. No one can live while the other survives. At the bitter end, what had magic brought him, if not despair, lost loved ones and the fear of losing even more of them?

"I know you are sad. You can let it out, if you want. Anyway, I'm here" finally said Luna, and she was now ordering them two colorful drinks, swinging her feet back and forth while resting her crossed arms on the bar counter.

"Thank you. For being here," said Harry. He finally took out the Cloak to look her in the eyes. He wondered if he should let out what he was feeling, and what would she think of him. She returned his gaze, and there they stood, looking at one another for an unquantifiable amount of time.

"It's okay. I'm listening," she encouraged him, as she placed a hand on his knee and gave a soft little squeeze. Their drinks arrived, and Harry took a good sip of it while recollecting his thoughts. It was creamy and sweet, but undoubtedly alcoholic, and he could taste pineapple and what seemed like coconut. It was delicious. Harry took a deep breath before addressing Luna.

"I… I feel like nothing makes sense anymore, like there's no meaning to what I do or don't." He paused a little, as he was getting emotional again, but did his best to keep his cool. "You heard him, I'm only famous for horrible, hurtful events. I've been through so many things — terrible things, and now I think I'm broken, you know?" he sighed, stirring his drink, then taking a big gulp, while Luna took one sip of hers, without taking her eyes out of him.

He stared at nothing. "Every time that I've been happy, something or someone would come to steal that happiness away. I had no childhood. No family. My life was never adventurous; I was surviving! Then I lost my only family, and now my future." He glanced at all the people around them, dancing and chattering at the party, and gestured with his hand.

"They are oblivious to all of that. They are just... normal people. They won't understand. I… I don't know if you'll understand, but... I feel… hollow, you know?" But this time his voice cracked, and he couldn't hold back the stream of tears from slowly falling throughout his cheeks. He finished his drink before continuing. "I feel like I have lost something that I don't know what is, and then forgot about it… and now it's absence is a constant reminder of this void. Like a shadow that I can't define," Harry elaborated.

He didn't mean to sound so dramatic; maybe that whole 'alcohol gets you talkative' was true after all, or maybe he needed to get that out of his chest one way or another. Nevertheless, he thought that, if anyone could understand it, it would be Luna. The girl took a deep sigh.

"Well… I feel like that, sometimes," and Harry noticed she had a sad smile on her face. "When I think about the way I lost my mom, or the way that people treat me. It's hard…" she said, and rested her head on his shoulder. She took a long breath before continuing. "But sometimes... sometimes I like the idea of being hollow. It means I can fill the hollowness within me with whatever I want. It is a little scary, but it makes me feel free, too. Like I have a choice about it."

Harry considered her words for a moment. He had never thought about it in that way. It certainly was scary; though it was liberating, too. He was also saddened by her admission of how she felt about the bullying she received from others. How could anyone ever harm and say mean things to the angel who was now resting at his shoulder? He wished he could curse each and everyone of these people. They stood like that for a couple of moments, Harry stroking her hair while she rested her head in him.

"What if you don't know what to fill it with?" asked Harry, after a couple moments. "What if no choice seems right?"

"How can you know if you don't choose?" she retorted slowly.

"But what if I choose wrong?"

"Then choose again" said Luna, simply. She straightened up to finish her drink, then smiled at him and put her hand on his.

"But sometimes… we can't choose again" said Harry, deviating his eyes. "Sometimes our choices change everything. That's what scares me" he confessed, almost in a whisper. He knew he was being contradictory. Even though he felt nothing he did mattered… sometimes he wished the fate of the world would rest on someone else's shoulders.

"Don't be so harsh on yourself, Harry. Nobody knows how to live," said Luna, moving his head with her hand for him to look back at her eyes. "We have to figure it out as we go. So please, don't put yourself down like that, nor push yourself away," she said, while caressing his jawbone, with a tender touch that made him shiver all the way down his body. "As I'm sure you care for me, I care for you too. We are friends. I may not have your answers, but we can always share our questions."

She smiled warmly at him. Harry was glad he chose her to talk about his feelings. She was right, it was not an answer, but the thought of having someone who really cared for what he was feeling was enough for him to smile again, although he was still a little sad.

"Thank you, Luna… I'm a little sad now, but I won't lock myself away… it will pass. Eventually," he concluded, smiling back at her. He stood from the stool and reached out to her. Holding her by the hand, he then led her across the room, moving slowly. They wandered a little, Harry guiding her through the groups of people.

He was heading to the center of the room, where people were dancing, but then — over the sea of heads and hats — he saw Slughorn approaching them, fast. Griping her hand tightly, he signaled for her. They intensified their pace, changing course and ducking slightly to merge underneath the sea of people. They hastily hid into a far corner, behind a big pillar and flanked by a high cellar.

Spying over the edge, he muttered to her, between gasps. "Phew — we dodged that one!" They laughed, leaning against each other for air, the adrenaline making them breathe faster. He didn't even know why it was so funny, but sharing this moment with her, after what she'd done for him… it filled him with renewed joy. Then, still trying to control his laughter a little and catching his breaths, he instinctively hugged her — surprising the girl and even himself. However, it didn't feel wrong. Not at all. Harry felt calmer, happier. Luna had been such good company.

"It's funny, isn't it?" said him to her ear, recomposing himself after a couple of moments. "I always thought magic could solve anything, but… it were your words that helped me tonight." She smiled at that, although he couldn't see it.

"Well, my dad said my mother would tell him: even though we live in a magical world, with magical words… the real magic is in the ones we love."

He trembled, his heart starting to beat faster. He could get used to this kind of talk. This kind of touch…

'Wait, where did that thought come from?' he asked himself, shivering slightly as Luna was caressing the hair at the back of his neck, while he tightened her against his chest. Her smell hit him like thunder — her perfume was intoxicating, a sweet fragrance with a mix of sunflower, vanilla and something he couldn't identify. It made him feel like he was being transported into an orchard, by the shadow of fruit trees, lying with her on the grass, the light of the sun reflecting in her golden locks… the wind blowing around them…

Hermione chose this precise moment to appear, half-ducking, half-running into their discreet, shadowy corner; she was coming from a direction which only Harry could see. Later on, she'd tell him that she was just running away from McLaggen. She stopped dead on track as she caught a glimpse of the pair's hug, and it was in that moment that Harry came to the realization that he'd been hugging the blonde girl for a full couple of minutes now, in a rather intimate embrace.

Hermione gave him the slightest of smiles, making him blush deeply, then turned back and quickly disappeared from view. Although he was embarrassed, he surprised himself with the realization that he didn't want to let Luna go at all, so they just kept there, swinging a little in the same place while feeling the heat of each other.

In the distance, he could hear some 70's slow music starting to play. His heart started to beat faster, and his throat went suddenly dry. This last hour with Luna had been so… different. A million thoughts started popping in his head, thoughts he'd never expect to mentalize…

'Stop. Don't overthink it.'

It's a little bit funny
This feeling inside
I'm not one of those who can easily hide

"Would you like to dance this one with me?" whispered Harry into her ear, recognizing that the song was, indeed, Your Song by Elton John.

"Oh, I'd love to!" she exclaimed, brightening up. She raised her hands until they were positioned by his shoulders, then took half a step back so that they could look each other in the eyes. He was glad he could still smell her sweet perfume from this distance. They smiled at each other, but just for a moment. She gazed up at him steadily, slowly swaying in response to his movements.

While they danced, Harry was having trouble concentrating on the melody, lyrics or even the rhythm of the song, because Luna's beautiful face had robbed him of all of his thoughts. He'd never seen her from this up-close — had she always had those little flecks of green and ocean in her eyes? What about those puffy, pinky cheeks, clashing against her porcelain skin? 'Merlin, what am I thinking…?'

They swung in an uncoordinated manner, but Harry didn't care. He tried a little spin, and was delighted to see Luna graciously rotate under his hand, her hair glistening in a swift motion, flowing like it was meant for this kind of movement. She spun back into his arms, crashing softly into his chest.

"We're terrible dancers," she commented nonchalantly, smiling peacefully. However, her smile didn't stop Harry from laughing nervously. Luna noticed his sudden stiffness. "Oh, but I'm liking it! I've never danced with someone else! And a friend, at that! I'm so happy!"

"Really? I've never danced with no one, either. I'm really liking it…" Harry said in a low voice. And he was. Luna's petite figure moving against his body was making him sweat for different reasons than what it was supposed to. The words escaped his mouth before he could hold them. "And I'm really happy I got to do it with you."

And with those words, and with the spark he had in his eyes, her smile changed.

I hope you don't mind
That I put down in words
How wonderful life is
While you're in the world…

What was this he was feeling? Time seemed to be slowing into almost stopping, but at the same time, it all felt like it was happening too fast. His eyes darted to her glistening, pinky lips, and he felt his heart jolt at the sight. His mind went oblivious. The sound of the music was a whisper in his ears. How had he come to this? One moment she was comforting him, the next he was having all these funny thoughts about the texture of her mouth and the softness of her skin…

But all of those thoughts were quickly pushed aside as, once again, emeralds focused on pale full moons, both twinkling. Those eyes seemed to search into his very soul, for answers to a question he didn't even know he had asked.

Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

Damn you and your Legilimency, Elton John. In the twilight of distant golden lights, Harry couldn't help but finally admit to himself: he wanted to drown in those eyes.

"Harry?" she whispered, her eyes darting from his eyes to his lips.

"Y-Yeah?" he half-stuttered, half-muttered; his dry throat making it difficult to issue any sound without cracking.

"I keep having these silly thoughts…" she let out, not taking her eyes from his one single moment, and Harry could swear he saw her biting her lip in a glimpse.

"Maybe it's the Wrackspurts?" Harry muttered back, before gulping at their closeness.

"No… I don't think it is," Luna smiled a different kind of smile, one Harry had never seen on her face: one of playful amusement. As if she was trying to decipher the same thing he was. And although the gears of his head had already given up, the ones on his heart had just gone into full motion…

A building mix of desire and anxiety started to make him slowly approach her. Her eyes were like labyrinths, where he searched and searched, until ultimately caughting the glimpse of a mirror — a reflection of the same desire he was feeling himself. His heart could break out through his chest any moment now. He wanted to peek closer. Just a little bit closer…

How wonderful life is while you're in the world…

They were impossibly close. Luna gulped slightly, blinking — while Harry's breath could already caress her nose. He cupped her left cheek on instinct, and her eyes finally left his emeralds to look down at his lips, a couple of centimeters away. He gazed at her, a final wandering look — his last question. She closed the gap until their lips touched slightly.

And then Harry kissed her. Tenderly and slow at first, catching her lower lip into his and massaging it; then demanding entrance into her mouth. She tasted mildly like cherry, with just a hot touch of alcohol. Her taste, her grip on his nape… it enticed him to his core. His brain short-circuited, and suddenly everything that existed in his world were her taste, her smell, her warmth. The sensation of her skin against his.

After an unquantifiable amount of time, he gave her lower lip a soft bite, before pulling a few centimeters away. Her eyes kept darting from his eyes back to his lips, her cheeks flushed, her body trembling.

"How lucky…" she whispered, breathing hastily in between her words. "To have my first dance… and my first kiss… on the same night… with you…" she gazed deeply into his eyes at that last phrase.

Harry's heart jolted. He smiled briefly, but couldn't hold a wondering expression from forming back in his face. "No… I'm the lucky one…" he cupped both of her cheeks with his thumbs, while interlacing his fingers into her golden locks. "Walking alone, in the dark… I've finally found the moonlight I was looking for," he whispered. He didn't care if he was being cheesy. All he cared about was…

He kissed her again, this time putting everything he was feeling into it. She deepened the kiss, massaging his tongue and wandering with her hand around his chest; it took him all of his self-control not to pin her to the wall on the spot. His own hands wandered through her upper body, first her arms, then her back, resting finally with one hand on her waist and another in her cheek.

Ultimately, he did in fact pin her against the wall — though not unkindly —, earning him a low moan against his own mouth which was the hottest sound he'd ever heard. They broke the kiss breathless, only for her to gaze at him under squinted eyes and reddened cheeks, inviting him for more.

The music started again, but he didn't care at all about the world around them. Seeing that expression, he attacked her again, and now his left hand fiddled with the side of her dress, squeezing her just over her waist, touching her naked skin. Her body was burning like fire, and even though it was winter, he could feel himself starting to get sweaty. The bliss, the heat, the taste… it was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. It drove him absolutely crazy. He involuntarily pressed her against the wall with his knee under her dress's skirt.

"He-hem," they heard someone clearing their throats in a mocking tone to their left. An embarrassed Harry let go of a breathless and blushing Luna to see Ginny and Dean staring at them with mischievous grins. He didn't even know they were coming to the party. Actually, Harry hadn't thought about Ginny at all in the last couple hours.

"No need to get a room, I dreamt about this day," remarked Ginny. Harry couldn't tell if she was being sincere or if he could see a shadow of sadness in her expression, or maybe both. "Seriously, though; you two look so cool together, and I'm so happy for you," she added, now smiling broadly.

"Thanks, Ginny," it was Luna who answered, still blushing but with a beautiful smile on her face. Harry couldn't help but smile too.

"'Cool'? I guess 'on fire' would be more precise!" uttered Dean, astonished. Ginny arched an eyebrow before dragging him away, giving the couple one last wink on her way to the middle of the crowded room. Harry's eyes went back to Luna almost instantly.

"Well… that... wow," Harry breathed, gazing back at Luna's lips. "That was—"

"—amazing," Luna breathed back. She was leaning against the wall, one hand fidgeting with the collar of his shirt, the other bristling with the hairs in the back of his head.

"Yeah…" he caught her by her hips with both of his hands, pinning her again. "It was amazing. You are amazing. Luna—" his heart threatened to jump out through his throat. She eyed him half-expectantly, half-eager to go back to what they were doing. "Do you… do you want to go out with me?"

"Go out? Go out like… as friends?" she asked with a suppressed smile, and Harry was surprised to see that the usually airy girl was, in fact, teasing him. It was another new part of her he was suddenly discovering. And he loved it.

"No… not as friends," he answered in a low voice, trying to convey all of his intentions into his gaze. He didn't elaborate, but he knew she'd got the message.

She leaned and whispered into his ear: "I'd love to, Harry," caressing his neck with her long fingers while she leant back, stopping even closer in front of him. They were just a few centimeters away, and she only had eyes for his mouth.

"Then, it's a date," he whispered. He caressed her lower lip downwards with his thumb. "I sorta resent that we had to stop."

"Well, then…" she wrapped both her hands on the back of his head. "Let's get back to it, before the Nargles get—" but she had no time to end her phrase, as Harry crashed his lips back on hers. He had no intention of thinking about Ginny, or Prophecies, or anything else. At that moment, his heart was set — and he only had eyes for those pale moons.

Author Notes:

Hello there! :) Hope you enjoyed reading this Lunary Oneshot! Was it too 'strangely' written? Too short or too long? Too cliché'd? Please let me know! This fic actually was born from a series of drabbles I brainstormed for another project I have, a time travel fic. In one of these drabbles, a depressed Harry would find comfort in his blonde friend while brooding by the lake at Hogwarts. Well, that was before I started to play with the idea of a possible Harry/Luna pairing. The rest of the text came naturally, although I spent a good amount of time editing, rewriting and checking for spelling/phrasing mistakes.

I really enjoyed writing Luna and Harry's dynamic, and I intend to publish more Lunary in 2022. I'm starting with small projects while developing my English skills, but I also hope to come with some long-fics in the future. Any and every feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading!