Nargles

By Brando


Dedicated to Katie

Disclaimer: I'm still not J.K. Rowling or any kind of Publishing or Warner Brothers executive. I'm not involved with the movies or books and I'm begging you not to sue.

Corrections: Last chapter when it spoke of Ron seeing Hermione this angry, it was supposed to say Harry.

Also when referring to the Rocky joke it should have read (except for Jack Sloper who was also a muggle-born). Plus I know one of Dean and Seamus is a muggle-born, I just forgot who. –Dies-

And Ron said McGonnigal gave them their jobs, but I later said it was the Head Boy and Girl. So all of those should have been corrected.

Also, not sure if I made this clear or not; but it is not Christmas Break yet. It's a little before.

Parts of the conversation on the grounds were taken from a RPG. Credit for the wonderfully angst-filled death of Loony's mom goes to Kate.

----

Ron had told Harry they were going to have a party for him and Hermione. However as soon as they had arrived in the Common Room Harry had put his foot down on the idea. Everyone had been truly hurt that Harry didn't want to partake in the party but he reminded them all of the impending Quidditch game and told them that he mustn't be hangover while looking for the stitch. They had shared a laugh and Jack Sloper had announced they would have the party tomorrow night instead so they could celebrate Malfoy's beating in life and in Quidditch.

So they had postponed the Party and Harry had retreated to the world of sleep. It was rather strange because that night he didn't dream about Bellatrix and Voldemort and death and self-depression. He didn't dream about anything; really. Instead he only drifted into a dreamless slumber. It was a great change from the usual and he wondered why it had happened the way it did. Whatever the reason, Harry was awakened the next morning in a pleasant mood instead of his normal brooding melancholy.

After changing and chatting with Ron for a few moments (the redhead was still in awe of Hermione) Harry exited the dormitory and headed down for the common room. In the morning hours no one was usually around; since they were either sleeping or going to breakfast. However today a single soul, Ginny Weasley, was sitting in the common room and reading a book as she lay on the couch by the fireplace. Harry gave her a hello and took a seat down at the edge of the couch after she sat up.

"Something wrong?" Ginny asked him skeptically.

"Why do you ask?" Harry replied, confused.

"Because normally you get to the pitch early and try to think of a strategy for the game instead of sitting here and talking to me." Ginny reminded him.

"Ah." Harry said rather lamely. "Well I actually did want to ask you something."

"Well then ask me." Ginny responded. "Because you're kinda creeping me out with the mystery thing."

Harry rolled his almond-shaped eyes and began to think of a way to ask her. He was still curious about Luna's behavior yesterday afternoon when she had presented him with the bottle cap. He happened to know that Ginny was close friends with Luna and wondered if she would be able to shed some light on it. However as soon as he did explain this (he decided just to tell her what happened) Ginny did something he didn't expect. Her lips curved into an amused smile and her eyes lit up like Doctor Filibuster Fireworks.

"Someone has a crush on Harry." She laughed.

Harry blinked. "What? No!"

Ginny nodded. "Oh yes she does. Luna's very protective of those bottle caps. If she gave you one then she likes you."

Harry slumped back into the couch with an odd look on his face. Someone liked him? That was . . . different. He'd never really had someone like him before; at least not to his knowledge. Well, Ginny herself had had a large crush on him a few years ago but nothing had even happened. Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood? Thinking about it Harry would actually have to admit the school would say it made sense. After all; Luna was the crazy girl in the castle and Harry was the attention-seeking celebrity. (Even if they knew he was now telling the truth about Voldemort; Harry was still considered nutty)

"Well I'll leave you to ponder this." Ginny said clapping him on the back. "But don't forget that we have Quidditch in an hour."

And an hour did pass. An hour that Harry spent thinking about the possibility of someone having a crush on him. Finally, Harry set off towards the Quidditch pitch, Firebolt in hand and a grin on his face as he arrived and ran off to reach the locker rooms.

Upon reaching the locker rooms, Harry quickly made his way past the other members of the Quidditch team and he ignored them for a moment. The team seemed odd without the Weasley Twins or their usual three chasers. Still, the new beaters, Jack and Andrew, were doing very well, and the new chasers, one of them Ginny Weasley, were also up to part for this year. Katie Bell, the only remaining person on the team older than Harry, had been made the new captain. Although being Captain didn't matter to Harry. He was happy just being allowed to play Quidditch again. The Education Decrees of Dolores Jane Umbridge were all void now. Fudge was trying to make amends for not believing Harry about Voldemort.

Harry made his way to his locker and quickly exchanged his ink black robes for the scarlet ones and then added his gloves and boots. Harry sighed and moved back from the locker, broom in hand, and looking at himself in the mirror for a second. It felt good to be back in his uniform, since he hadn't worn it at all during his fourth year, and only once in his fifth year. Shaking his head, Harry closed and locked his locker before turning to the team. With Angelina and Oliver things of the past, he had been delighted to find Katie Bell wasn't nearly as insane as the two of them when it came to pep talks. When she'd finished with it the team all went into their normal morning preps.

Harry sat on the bench for the entire time. Ron was much too busy reading a book called Tips for Keepers: 101 ways to stop the Quaffle or die trying to engage him in conversation and the chases were all huddled going over their next strategies, while the beaters were taking turns throwing things at each other and practicing smacking them away. Harry yawned at all of this and watched the beaters play for a while before returning his gaze to the path that would lead them to the Quidditch Pitch. He could smell the excitement in the air and he knew that it was almost time to play his favorite sport on earth.

Finally he heard the whistle of Madam Hooch outside and he stood quickly, almost running towards the entrance, unable to contain his excitement for the current moment. When he entered the stands and heard the roar of the crowd, he felt like he was home.

He cast his eyes around the stands. He could see the large hulking form of Hagrid. The figures in front of Hagrid he could only assume were Hermione, Neville and Luna. He could tell Luna because of her giant lion hat from a year ago that really roared and even at this distance he could make out the shapes of the short Neville and the bushy-haired Hermione.

Harry then returned his gaze to the game at hand and kicked off the ground into the air. He soared up into the sky and enjoyed the breeze on his face like he had enjoyed nothing before. Flying through the air, Harry zoomed up and up for a moment, before taking a final seat just above the Gryffindor Goal Hoops.

He nodded down at Ron, but doubted the redhead saw him because Ron was much too busy flying around the hoops. Harry let his eyes travel across the field to Malfoy, who was leaning on his broom smugly and saying something to the beater, Crabbe, to the side of him. Harry had no chance of making out what it was that Malfoy was saying, but he didn't really need to hear it to guess it had something to do with either him or Ron. Goyle was absent from the game.

Harry watched as the twin bludgers were let into the air, but he ignored them completely. He watched as she tosses the Quaffle and Ginny was able to steal it away before the Slytherin chaser could. Still, he ignored this too. He kept his eyes on Madam Hooch's hand which held the tiny, golden snitch. The single most important ball in all of Quidditch. And the sweetest salvation to Harry. While he had to work so hard to find and to catch that tiny ball, he couldn't spend time thinking about his dead parents or his equally deceased Godfather. All he could think about was Quidditch.

"And it Ginny Weasley with the Quaffle, she's going for a goal at the Slytherin in – going – going – almost there – Ouch, and it's blocked! Bad shot Gryffindor."

The new commentator was a change since Harry had become accustom to Lee Jordan's amusing chit chat, but Lee was a graduate now and he was currently working in Diagon Alley with the Weasley Twins. Shrugging off the bad comments on the game, Harry looked around until he caught a tiny glimmer of gold. It was zooming around near Ron and Harry threw all of his weight into launching towards it. Flying at a speed that could match any of previous games, Harry readied himself for an early catch. Malfoy was on his tail in a second and struggling to catch ahead of him.

"Shove off Malfoy!" Harry warned him as he swerved and cut Malfoy off. Draco had to pull up and go through a violent spin to keep from hitting Harry. Malfoy replied to him with a slew of curse words. Harry returned his attention to the stitch but found it was gone. Malfoy wouldn't know that.

Zooming ahead Harry went flying straight at the ground near the goal hoops. Ron was watching Harry the whole time and he let the Quaffle in the goals behind him. Harry didn't have time to lecture Ron, though. Instead he threw all of the speed the Firebolt could handle into his dive. Malfoy was behind him doing the same on his old Nimbus. Then Harry pulled up in a move that would have been insane if he didn't have such an agile broom. Malfoy saw this but it was too late for him. He smashed into the ground with a sickening crunch and the Slytherin end of the crowd booed and hissed. Harry zoomed away and flew by Ginny Weasley; who was scoring a goal from the outraged Slytherin Keeper, before he settled back into the sky and looked around for the real stitch.

Harry didn't find the stitch, though. He continued to circle the stadium for a long time but never once found it. He could see that Malfoy was lagging in his tracks. Then again he had been beaten yesterday and thrown into the grounds today and so it was no surprise that he was sore and flying slower. Harry watched Malfoy for a second as he flew slowly towards the large Hufflepuff-colored stands. His eyes fell on a tiny glimmer of gold near the stands and suddenly he realized that Malfoy was not lagging; he was trying to catch the snitch without attracting Harry's attention.

He had failed.

Harry shot towards the golden glimmer like a stampeding hippogriff; but as soon as he did Malfoy sped up. Harry could never have reached the stitch in time and since the score was only 40 to 20 (Gryffindor in the lead) they would lose the game. He could never have reached it if not for Vincent Crabbe, that is. Crabbe smacked a large black bludger at Harry and attempted to knock him off his broom, but Harry rolled and watched in satisfaction as the bludger hit Malfoy's broom in the back and cut him down. Malfoy's broom; which had been snapped like a twig, gave out and sent the blonde boy plummeting to the ground with an angry thud. Harry grinned and swooped down to grab the stitch a second before Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Gryffindor had won and Draco Malfoy had been humiliated. How could life get sweeter?

----

Several hours and a few bottle of butterbeer later; Harry was sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor common room laughing like there was no tomorrow. Ron was standing in the middle of the room retelling the tale of the fight from yesterday and the audience was clapping and applauding in all the right places. Music was playing and a bottle of firewhiskey (which had been owled in from Fred and George after they heard about the fight) had been opened and Harry was sure he was a little drunk. He was also sure that Dean Thomas was very drunk because he was dancing on the table in the corner with a waste-bin on his head.

Growing a tad tired from the feats of drinking, story-telling and laughing; Harry decided to go for a walk. Standing up and brushing his scarlet robes off (he hadn't had time to change from his Quidditch uniform after the game and had instead kept the grass-stained robes on) Harry set off. Ginny watched him leave for a second before she pulled Hermione aside.

"Hey; where does Harry keep his cloak?" She asked.

Hermione quirked a brow. "In his trunk, why?"

Ginny flashed the older girl a sly smile. "Just go get it and follow me."

Hermione shook her head. "Why do you want to follow Harry?"

Ginny shrugged. "Because he didn't throw away any of those butterbeer bottle caps. Now just trust me and get the cloak."

If Hermione was confused she made no move of showing it. She hurried up to the Boy's Dorm and appeared a few minutes later with an old square of parchment and a silvery cloak. Ginny grinned and quickly led Hermione to the fat lady's portrait but Hermione stopped.

"Shouldn't we tell Ron?" She asked; but Ginny shook her head.

"You of all people should know Ron's not good with matters of the heart."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Ginny simply laughed before disappearing behind the invisibly cloak. Hermione frowned and followed her quickly; unable to pry the answer she wanted from the redhead.

----

It was almost sunset and now Harry was very quiet. He looked at the orange hue of the sky for a minute before setting himself down beneath a large lake-side tree. Perhaps he would have been better off inside but Harry was growing tired of the party. Something was nagging at his mind and it wouldn't go away. Luna. Something about Luna's words the other day was causing Harry to think about her much more than he should. And the idea that Ginny claimed she had a crush on Harry was causing Harry to think about what that would be like . . .

And whenever Harry did think about something happening between Luna and him, he didn't really mind what he thought of. The things he pictured in his mind were all very happy and someone Harry had found himself intrigued with the idea. It hadn't taken him long to realize he was developing a crush on her and now he was becoming worried about things. It wasn't so much the fact that he was too shy to date someone; that wasn't the problem. It was the pure and simple fact that people close to Harry die. His parents, Sirius Black, they all died. Ron and Hermione had both been injured many times and many members of the order had been harmed severely, Tonks had even been hospitalized. If Voldemort found out Harry had a girlfriend –

Then again that was jumping ahead a bit. He wasn't even sure Luna would want to date him. He wasn't even sure if he really had a crush on her. He couldn't be sure about any of these things because he had only done the crush thing once before and that hadn't worked out so well at all.

Harry had fallen into a world of self-depression and brooding as he sat under that tree and began to re-fall into that world for pain when suddenly Harry heard footsteps and he tore his eyes away from his the ground and darted them around the grounds. His fingers shot down to his waistline and gripped the edge of his wand tightly, but as his almond-shaped eyed settled on Luna Lovegood he relaxed his grip and let the adrenalin fall away from his bloodstream. Harry was becoming more and more like Mad-Eye Moody every day, and now at the slightest noise he'd be liable to jump up and hex anything that moved.

"Hello, Harry."

The Quidditch match had been brutal – Luna winced at some points. Frowning slightly at the memory, Luna collapsed gracefully to his side and fiddled with a strand of grass. Sweeping her straggly blonde hair from her view, Luna watched Harry, unblinkingly, observing the pained look in his brilliant green eyes. Her pale eyes focusing on his face, she opened her mouth and offered hopefully consoling words.

"It will get better." She assured him.

Harry snorted. "A lot of people say that to me Luna."

Luna didn't blink once as her large eyes stared at Harry. Her words were said in the same dreamy voice and once again she had the sincerest hope to help him overcome his obvious world of black.

"Harry," she spoke softly, finally blinking her pale cobalt eyes, "you've got to remember not everything always works out. But what you did have, you should appreciate." These wise words did not come from her, but rather from her grandfather. Her twinkling round eyes fixed upon Harry, she rested her hand upon his knee, staring at the ground in deep thought for a moment. Then she looked back up at him.

Her eyes fell upon his tousled, jet-black hair and she found herself wondering if he combed it often. Then again, she had become accustomed to Harry without neat hair, and was unsure she would familiarize herself with him if he flattened his hair. She knew his bangs were screening a thin, lightning-bolt shaped scar from her sight, but wouldn't persist at gaping at this scar: if she were him, she would not appreciate people constantly gawking at her forehead. Her eyes falling upon his, she locked her unblinking pale gaze with his.

Luna was fond of Harry's eyes. A rather uncommon color, vivid green… it was the first thing that caught her eye about him, rather than the great cut slashed across his forehead. Perhaps they would have been more charming if they weren't swimming with heartache that washed out all cheerfulness from them… this troubled Luna. She wished to help him, because she did know the pain that followed loosing someone dear. She knew that shunning the pain would only bring it back, full-fledged and perhaps worse, in time. She had learned this the hard way. She didn't desire to push Harry through this, and would try to assist him in ceasing the anguish that came with the death of his Godfather. Not that she truly understood, however. Luna still cherished times with her father, grandparents, and cousins; Harry merely had Muggles.

Harry briefly let his eyes travel to Luna and noticed that she was staring rather fixedly at his shaggy mass of hair. Harry was used to people gazing at him and scrutinizing everything he did and everything he said and the ways in which he did and said these things. He found that it was one of the worst annoyances in his life these days, aside from Voldemort; Sirius's being dead, and Snape's classes. Being stared at by people who thought of him as insane and a seeker of attention made him mad. It made him mad because every year since he had started Hogwarts he had risked his life for them. Did they not understand that if Voldemort ever won their yearly battles, the world would be covered in darkness? Did they not understand that if Voldemort finally did kill Harry Potter, then they would all be killed next?

"What are you thinking about Harry?" Luna asked him out of the blue.

"Trying to listen to what you said." Harry responded softly. "Wishing I had some good time to remember about Sirius." He paused. "The problem is I never had any. The only time I ever saw him was when I was in danger and in need of help."

Luna tilted her head to the side. "I don't think that is true Harry."

Harry glared at her. "How the hell would you know?"

"Because I watched my mother die!" Luna snapped back, the dreamy quality fallen from her voice like it had done when Hermione had insulted The Quibbler a year earlier. "Harry please don't think you're the only person to have lost a loved one, because you aren't."

There was a pause, and then Harry came up with a lame "I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure if he was apologizing for being rude, or apologizing because she was right and he would get over Sirius, or if he was apologizing for Luna's loss. He suspected it was a little of all of that. Harry tore his almond-shaped eyes away from Luna and towards the sky once more. He began to wish he was on his broom instead of sitting here next to Luna Lovegood, acting like a complete prat. He knew that later on he'd be just as moody and glum as he had been before, but something about Luna's words; both the calm words or advice and the angry words she had shouted at him now, seemed to help. Shaking his head, Harry ruffled a hand through his hair and tried to clear his mind of everything.

Harry then looked over at Luna for a moment. He wasn't quite sure why he asked what he did ask. Maybe it was because of the crush he was developing on her; or maybe it was just from being overly nosey. However he did ask her a question that would be crossing a line he could never uncross.

"How did your mother die, Luna?"

"My mother?" she said thoughtfully. "Oh… well… you do remember that bird that Ginny was looking at in the Department of Mysteries, don't you?" she asked him slowly, avoiding his eyes.

The squirming sensation in her stomach seemed to knot. It wasn't as painful as talking about her mother as it was years ago, and now spoke with a trace of pride in her voice as she conversed with Harry. However, the unfamiliar feeling in her stomach turned to more of an apprehensive feeling as she thought over her mother's death… but Harry deserved to know. He had informed her of the details of his Godfather's death, he had to the whole D.A.: she would feel rude, not explaining everything to him . . . anyway, she felt compelled to tell him about it (which was strange, as she had never provided details to anyone).

Flashback

"Luna, dear, come down here!"

A woman, aged no older than twenty-nine, called down to her nine-year-old daughter. The woman had wavy blonde hair that reached her waist, her hazel eyes glittering with delight as she observed a bird, trapped in a glass jar, that hatched from an egg and attempted to burst into flight, but without escaping the glass, shrunk back into the egg. As the process progressed, the woman watched ecstatically, waving her wand impatiently. As a sweep of sparks sprinkled the table in which the cage sat on, the procedure paused, and the bird collapsed, lifeless, onto the ground of the cage. Whirling around as her daughter clumsily tumbled down the stairs, the young girl beamed up at her mother.

"Yes, mummy?"

She resembled her mother greatly – but she inherited her father's eyes, a charming pale blue, wide and round; her eyebrows flew into her hair, which was frizzing from the wind outside, as she watched the inanimate bird. Gasping, she bent over the table and examined the bird, rotating around to blame her mother. Wailing loudly as her lip trembled; she grasped her mother's arm and shook her vigorously.

"You killed the bird!"

Her mother simply beamed amiably, raising her wand and murmuring the incantation to bring the bird back to life, but Luna had knocked her arm out of the way in fury that her mother had 'murdered' a living creature. Her mother's wrist twisting, the shower of blue sparks coming from her wand drenched her. Her mother's hazel eyes enlarged in astounded panic before Luna watched the procedure that the bird had endured befall upon her mother.

"DADDY!"

Her father had collected the sketches for the spell and hesitantly donated them to the Ministry of Magic, where they had repeated the process her mother had in creating the bird. Her father speculated and Luna merely observed her father's concentration curiously – her mother, now deceased, was an extraordinary witch, working for the Department of Mysteries. Luna and Mr. Lovegood knew little of her labor, for Unspeakables required the quality of being secretive – they could not utter their work . . . as a tribute to her memory, Mr. Lovegood contributed the plans for the strange bird to the Ministry – because he knew she wished he would.

Present

Harry sat in quiet. He didn't know what to say or what to do. The horror of Luna's experience was drilling into him like white hot knives. Harry knew the feeling of knowing you were responsible for the death of a loved one. Or anyone. He had been responsible for the deaths of James and Lily Potter, Cedric Diggory, that old man at Riddle Manor, the Ministry woman that Voldemort killed to learn of the Triwizard tournament, and Sirius Black, his beloved Godfather.

And it had been an accident of Luna's that caused her mother to die. That was horrible. He was convinced that she did know the pain he knew and he had once prayed that no one would ever have to find the same pain he knew. Harry did not quite know what he was doing, but he found himself slipping an arm around Luna's shoulders. He was sure that if there was a right thing to do right now, this was not it. Still he found himself feeling horribly sad after hearing the tale and he let his eyes close once again.

"Luna. . . I'm sorry." He said once again, wishing he could find something new to say. Those words were empty and he knew that from first hand experience. "I never meant to bring this up."

Sighing, Luna leaned back on what she thought would be the bark, but instead was Harry's arm. Lifting her head embarrassedly, Luna stared at her feet.

She could not ignore the heavy heat she felt her face burn with, or the beads of sweat that were rolling down her face as she determinedly avoided Harry's eyes. Oh, she loved his eyes, certainly, but she did not know if she could bear to gaze into them right now. Her heart throbbing as a smile threatened to pull onto her face, Luna was tempted to lift her arm and fan herself. Luna's emotions were often exaggerated, especially when she was amused: the laughing fit she had pulled at Ron Weasley's joke on the train was a perfect example. But never before had she experienced this squirming feeling in her stomach – she was sure it was embarrassment, but what was there to be embarrassed about?

So Harry had his arm wrapped around her shoulders . . . he was comforting her. Instinctively she nestled her head against his shoulder, taking in his scent. He smelled like . . . grass. She supposed it was because of all the Quidditch playing. Shutting her eyes, her tense muscles relaxed. Suddenly her pale cobalt eyes shot open. What was she doing? Her face growing hotter as she lifted her head, she stiffened until he let go of her shoulders. During this… strange incident, Luna had forgotten about her mother.

"It's all right," she said hurriedly, her dreamy voice sounding oddly distorted. "I mean… it helped, talking about it, you know." She finished lamely.

By the time Luna had rocketed away from his arm and said something offhanded about talking about her mother, Harry was as red as a Weasley's hair. He began to look around the empty grounds and noticed a short, balding, pudgy man staring straight at them. It was Professor Wiltra, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Gulping Harry clasped his hands together in his lap and became thankful it was only Wiltra and not Snape. Still, he was out after hours and snuggling with Luna on the empty grounds and that didn't look good one way or another.

"Mr. Potter. Miss. Lovegood." The Professor said as he stepped over to them. "After hours?"

Both of them had an obvious blush on their faces and Professor Wiltra seemed a bit nervous. He looked around the grounds for a brief second as if he was looking for more students breaking the rules. Wiltra was constantly looking around for rule breakers. Moving his large gloved hands out of his pockets he looked down at Harry and gave him a smile.

"Why don't the two of you go back to the school? Your own respective common rooms. I believe Professor Snape is on his way out and I don't think he'd be as nice as I."

Harry muttered a goodbye to Luna as he made his way back to the castle, under Wiltra's gaze the entire time. Wiltra yawned and turned back on his own and vanished off into the Forbidden Forest. As soon as all three of them had cleared away, Ginny threw the Invisibility Cloak off herself and kicked a large rock in anger. Hermione shook her head.

"Stupid teachers. What was the point of telling Luna she should go comfort Harry if he's going to ruin everything!?"

Hermione shook her head. "We should have used the map." She confirmed. She had swiped the Marauder's Map from Harry's trunk but since Harry and Luna were supposedly alone on the grounds they didn't see a point of using it. It wasn't really Hermione's style to spy on people, but she hadn't known what they were doing till it was too late. Besides, she wanted to make sure Ginny's matchmaking ideas weren't . . . insane.

Meanwhile Harry wound up back in the boy's dorm within ten minutes. He changed and fell into bed; hoping that tonight he'd get lucky and have a dream about Luna.

---- ---- ---- ----

Current Tunes: -Listening to Kenny Chesney's Keg in the Closet-

Author's Notes: Most of the conversation between Harry and Luna was stolen from a RPG I was in once. It was cut down because it would have been too long to just straight-out copy it. I'm also going to use some of that same RP for later in the story.

Professor Mo Wiltra was introduced today. I think I mentioned him last chapter. Not really much on his personality in this one, but as a little "event" happens in his class later between Harry and Draco; I think we'll see more of him.

Next chapter will include a brief interlude with Voldie.

Also, special thanks to Hiss, who has agreed to be my Beta. She didn't beta this chapter, but will start with Chapter Three.