Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or settings mentioned in this
story.
Spoilers: None.
Rating: G
Pairing: Luna/Ginny
Writer: Sassinak Murray
On with the story...
Anywhere but Here
The coldest day of winter; Virginia Weasley sits alone in the frozen over courtyard. She's smiling, but it's that distant smile I see so often, I've gotten used to the look of it on her face. There's a book in her hand, but she isn't reading it. She's staring at one page. She hasn't changed it in a half an hour. She must be cold.
And the cold is the last thing on Ginny's mind. Instead, I see, over and over again she thinks these words inside her head:
Alone in a roomful of people...
Maybe, but right now Virginia really is alone. All alone in the freezing cold, because she doesn't want to be with them. Tears fell once but don't today. The air is to cold and the girl too tired... Perhaps tomorrow she'll be ready to cry. Far enough away to cry. Cry where he can't see her.
But Ginny isn't really alone, and someone seems to have noticed her absence... Luna Lovegood? A pretty smile on her face – a real smile – she walks toward Virginia, who can't help but smile back...
The tune in Ginny's mind changes.
Luna sits in the snow beside her, "Gin. You must be cold."
Ginny hadn't realized it before but she was cold. She shivers slightly, but she's warmer now. Luna came to see her. Luna came to see if she was all right. Luna cared. "I'm fine, Luna."
The other girl just shakes her head and reaches into her bag. She knew that Ginny would act that way. She pulls out a blue and bronze scarf, "At least wear this. You always forget to wear scarves."
The redhead accepts the scarf and stares at it in her hand for a few moments. She slips it around her snow-white neck, lips slightly parted with confusion; she's wearing a Ravenclaw scarf.
Inside her head another verse plays...
And Ginny says aloud: "Luna, never change the way you are."
And Luna smiles, because she understands more than anybody else. She understands what Ginny wants. She knows that Ginny's hers to keep, and her friend just doesn't know it yet.
It's warmed up; snow falls silently in large, soft flakes. They land, and do not melt, on Ginny's thick red curls. In her dark green dress robes, Ginny looks like a porcelain doll. She isn't wearing any makeup at all, and Luna wouldn't have it any other way.
Inside, the others dance.
Luna has other things on her mind. Catch her best friend's eye.
But it's pointless, really; Ginny's eye's been caught.
Luna's honey hair cascades down her back and puddles in the snow around where she's seated. Even damp, it catches the winter sunset and turns it into bright prisms of red and blond that glint off of her head and almost – almost – blind Ginny to anything else... black robes, made of some shiny fabric. The barest touch of unnatural colour accenting her lips and the thick black liner surrounding her pale eyes.
... Her casual pose, legs crossed, arms resting on her knees. This is what Ginny sees.
And in herself Ginny sees a plain 'sort-of-pretty' that pales in comparison to her close friend's stunning beauty. And oddly, Ginny isn't jealous of Luna, she's in awe of Luna.
She's gone to the world, under Luna's (metaphorical) spell.
And she doesn't care. She's too focused on Luna's perfect collarbones, her perfect hands (long and thin with short, unpainted nails).
Luna has her own things to focus on; Ginny's dark brown eyes, for example. It's impossible to tell what Ginny is thinking by looking into them. She's too closed off.
Luna smells like crushed lilacs. Ginny smells like newly fallen snow – fresh and clean.
They're close enough to tell. Their faces are each right next to the other's. Ginny's eyes are half closed, but Luna's are wide open, like she's trying to see every bit of Ginny's face. Memorize it.
Luna knows now:
Ginny's hers. Ginny will always be hers, no matter who Ginny might crush on, or whom she might date, or even marry... in the end, Ginny will belong to her and no one else.
Ginny just doesn't know it yet...
Their faces are so close together and watching them, I think they might kiss. They don't, though. Instead, Luna stands up and puts her hand out to Ginny.
Ginny raises her eyebrow, "You can't possibly expect me to go inside."
"I do."
Virginia accepts the hand offered to her, and stands, "You know I can't say no to you."
Luna smiles, "I know, Ginny," she says aloud, and finished silently, to herself, And you never will, Gin. I know that you never will.
*
AN: This random piece of fluff was inspired by Hilary Duff's song, Anywhere But Here (hence the title). I had originally intended for the story to end with a kiss, but it didn't seem right. I might write a few other stories that relate to this if I ever get out of my own little world (i.e.: unlikely).
-Sass
On with the story...
Anywhere but Here
The coldest day of winter; Virginia Weasley sits alone in the frozen over courtyard. She's smiling, but it's that distant smile I see so often, I've gotten used to the look of it on her face. There's a book in her hand, but she isn't reading it. She's staring at one page. She hasn't changed it in a half an hour. She must be cold.
And the cold is the last thing on Ginny's mind. Instead, I see, over and over again she thinks these words inside her head:
Alone in a roomful of people...
Maybe, but right now Virginia really is alone. All alone in the freezing cold, because she doesn't want to be with them. Tears fell once but don't today. The air is to cold and the girl too tired... Perhaps tomorrow she'll be ready to cry. Far enough away to cry. Cry where he can't see her.
But Ginny isn't really alone, and someone seems to have noticed her absence... Luna Lovegood? A pretty smile on her face – a real smile – she walks toward Virginia, who can't help but smile back...
The tune in Ginny's mind changes.
Luna sits in the snow beside her, "Gin. You must be cold."
Ginny hadn't realized it before but she was cold. She shivers slightly, but she's warmer now. Luna came to see her. Luna came to see if she was all right. Luna cared. "I'm fine, Luna."
The other girl just shakes her head and reaches into her bag. She knew that Ginny would act that way. She pulls out a blue and bronze scarf, "At least wear this. You always forget to wear scarves."
The redhead accepts the scarf and stares at it in her hand for a few moments. She slips it around her snow-white neck, lips slightly parted with confusion; she's wearing a Ravenclaw scarf.
Inside her head another verse plays...
And Ginny says aloud: "Luna, never change the way you are."
And Luna smiles, because she understands more than anybody else. She understands what Ginny wants. She knows that Ginny's hers to keep, and her friend just doesn't know it yet.
It's warmed up; snow falls silently in large, soft flakes. They land, and do not melt, on Ginny's thick red curls. In her dark green dress robes, Ginny looks like a porcelain doll. She isn't wearing any makeup at all, and Luna wouldn't have it any other way.
Inside, the others dance.
Luna has other things on her mind. Catch her best friend's eye.
But it's pointless, really; Ginny's eye's been caught.
Luna's honey hair cascades down her back and puddles in the snow around where she's seated. Even damp, it catches the winter sunset and turns it into bright prisms of red and blond that glint off of her head and almost – almost – blind Ginny to anything else... black robes, made of some shiny fabric. The barest touch of unnatural colour accenting her lips and the thick black liner surrounding her pale eyes.
... Her casual pose, legs crossed, arms resting on her knees. This is what Ginny sees.
And in herself Ginny sees a plain 'sort-of-pretty' that pales in comparison to her close friend's stunning beauty. And oddly, Ginny isn't jealous of Luna, she's in awe of Luna.
She's gone to the world, under Luna's (metaphorical) spell.
And she doesn't care. She's too focused on Luna's perfect collarbones, her perfect hands (long and thin with short, unpainted nails).
Luna has her own things to focus on; Ginny's dark brown eyes, for example. It's impossible to tell what Ginny is thinking by looking into them. She's too closed off.
Luna smells like crushed lilacs. Ginny smells like newly fallen snow – fresh and clean.
They're close enough to tell. Their faces are each right next to the other's. Ginny's eyes are half closed, but Luna's are wide open, like she's trying to see every bit of Ginny's face. Memorize it.
Luna knows now:
Ginny's hers. Ginny will always be hers, no matter who Ginny might crush on, or whom she might date, or even marry... in the end, Ginny will belong to her and no one else.
Ginny just doesn't know it yet...
Their faces are so close together and watching them, I think they might kiss. They don't, though. Instead, Luna stands up and puts her hand out to Ginny.
Ginny raises her eyebrow, "You can't possibly expect me to go inside."
"I do."
Virginia accepts the hand offered to her, and stands, "You know I can't say no to you."
Luna smiles, "I know, Ginny," she says aloud, and finished silently, to herself, And you never will, Gin. I know that you never will.
*
AN: This random piece of fluff was inspired by Hilary Duff's song, Anywhere But Here (hence the title). I had originally intended for the story to end with a kiss, but it didn't seem right. I might write a few other stories that relate to this if I ever get out of my own little world (i.e.: unlikely).
-Sass