Written for The Houses Competition
House: Hufflepuff
Class: Transfiguration
Category: Standard
Prompts:
[Character] Luna Lovegood
[Object] Fireplace
Bonus Prompts:
[Quote] Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away - Maya Angelou
[Prompt] Alternative Outcome
Word count: 1157
AU
Light and Dark
Luna sat atop a cardboard box in the near-empty living room of hers and Harry's new apartment.
She was studying the fireplace. It was ornate and decorative, made from solid white marble with pitch-black veins.
"That's what life feels like, isn't it?" she said.
Harry looked up. He was rummaging through his trunk, and he pulled out an old photo album.
"What?"
"The white marble. You'd think because we'd won, the light would overpower the dark, but those dark veins demand our attention because of everyone we lost."
Harry slammed the trunk down. "Can we not do this?"
Luna flinched, her hands reaching to cover her ears as she trembled.
"Sorry… I didn't mean to frighten you." He walked over and pulled a trembling Luna into a hug. "I'm sorry."
"I can't avoid loud noises forever, Harry. And you can't avoid talking about Ron and Hermione either."
"And Remus, Tonks, Ginny, Neville, Molly, Arthur, Dobby…" Harry turned away, his hands coming together as he began tugging and pulling on his fingers, his eyes clenched shut. "I just wasn't good enough. I was too late, and I was no match for him once it was just him and me. It was a bloodbath, and I only won by the skin of my teeth."
"Hurting yourself won't solve anything," she said. "I see you, you know. You punch yourself, pull your hair, dig your fingers into your hands. You do it anytime they're mentioned. You could be living in Grim—"
"—Luna, you're the only person that survived that I'm close to. Don't ruin it by being yourself."
Harry marched to his bedroom. Luna looked back at the fireplace, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.
"You can't keep blaming yourself, Harry," she whispered, but the bedroom door slammed with a resounding boom.
Their flat was a grotty mess above a dodgy shop in Knockturn Alley, but Luna grew to love it. She couldn't change the location, so she cleaned and painted the flat until it was pristine.
Everything was colourful, including a unique plaid sofa, which sat in front of her favourite feature. The fireplace.
"Have you decided if you're going back?" she asked one evening.
"Hogwarts?" Harry asked.
He was stacking wood in a tepee shape around a small pile of kindling. There was a box of matches at his side and a box of firelighters if it didn't take.
"Yeah, Professor Slughorn is allowing students to Floo to the castle daily rather than staying. You know, if they can't cope."
Harry struck a match, holding it steady as he watched the shredded Daily Prophet bloom with fire.
He shrugged.
"Have you thought about Kingsley's offer?"
Harry stood and walked over to the couch, matches in hand. "If I'm unwilling to pick up my wand to light a fire, what good am I as an Auror?"
"I honestly thought you just liked them," she pointed to the matches. "They are fascinating, and I love the smell!"
Harry sniggered. "Not to me. Magic fascinated me…"
"What changed?"
Harry turned and looked at Luna, lips pursed and eyes narrowed.
"I know you're not going to leave because I keep asking, Harry. We're all each other's got, so you may as well talk."
"Magic was responsible for every bad thing that ever happened to me. Magic—magic took everyth-one that I ever loved. It just took the death of everyone else for the penny to drop."
Luna reached over and placed her hand in his. "Not me." She leaned her head on his shoulder as they sat in front of the fireplace.
Luna saw the white marble and the hope that was so clear after the darkness. Harry fixated on the dark veins running through it and everything he had lost.
Harry and Luna had grown closer over the months that they lived together. They were each other's only support and comfort after the war ended, and as such, they leant on each other heavily. The more Luna tried to help Harry, the more depressed he had become, the more he held back whatever caused the guilt that was so clear to Luna.
They sat in front of the fireplace, homework open on their laps. Harry stared intently at the book open on his lap. Ron's book.
RW & HG 4 Eva
"Essays are due next week, and we've got a practical next lesson. You're going to have to take your wand to school for that."
"I'm not ready yet."
Harry grabbed her hand, his fingernails digging into her skin. Luna's thumb traced circles on Harry's hand until the grip eased. She looked at him, and his eyes were swimming with tears.
"You'll get there," she whispered.
Harry watched the flames flicker. The strange orange glow had a way of illuminating the black in the fireplace, highlighting the darkness. He squinted at the bright light, and the veins appeared to transform into spell blasts shooting through the light of the world, destroying everyone he held dear.
"I don't think I can. All I see is the wasted lives of those I love." Harry's finger traced the initials that Ron had graffitied in his textbook. "Ron and Hermione should have had more time, time to be together."
Luna frowned. "You're measuring the quality of their love by the amount of time they had to experience it. Life isn't about the number of breaths you take but by the moments that take your breath away. Hermione took Ron's breath away daily, and they lived extraordinary lives together, with you."
Harry stood and walked over to the fire, his hands resting on the mantlepiece. He could feel the intense heat of the flames, and he closed his eyes.
Suddenly, he found himself under his invisibility cloak, but he was smaller. Ron stood on his left and Hermione at his right. They huddled together, walking through the dark corridors of Hogwarts. Hermione had a sack full of knitted hats, and Ron had an empty satchel. It was Christmas, and they were making their way to the kitchens.
Hermione tried to encourage the Elves to accept freedom when they arrived, and Ron gracefully accepted all the sweet things on offer. Harry saw the light in Hermione's eyes as she spoke about wages and holiday pay, and he watched Ron stuff a pumpkin pasty into his mouth while watching Hermione surreptitiously. Harry had always seen how he looked at her.
When he opened his eyes, he was back at the fireplace, and suddenly the black veins seemed to diminish. The white was overpowering the dark. The light had been turned on.
Harry hurried out of the room, and Luna followed. She found him rummaging through his trunk, and he pulled out the small moleskin pouch that Hagrid had given him.
"What are you doing?" Luna asked.
Harry pulled Draco's old wand from the pouch and rolled it between his fingers. "I think it's time I used this again."
