May 1998

Life continues (because it didn't know how to stop). Luna continues to believe and see and look. The Silver continues to dwell and breath and live (it didn't know how to stop either).

Life continues and one day she runs into Harry Potter. He is like he always was (except not how he was supposed to be, but that wasn't his fault).

He jumps when he sees her (like he's seen something frightening or perhaps something frightening had seen him) but he doesn't run (because he's brave, brave, brave and he would have saved them all).

"Lovegood, I heard what you did," he said. He had heard something (about what she had done). She smiled at this (because no one knew what she had done).

She hummed in acknowledgement. She had done something (something, something, something).

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I guess I wanted to thank you for killing him," he said (but he meant so he didn't have to).

Luna laughed bright and amused (and cold). "Harry Potter, I did not kill him." She wasn't a killer (and the Silver was cruel and mean and forever and ever).

She stilled her laughter though, when his face grew more and more terrified (like he thought something evil lurked in the shadows around them, like he thought-) "But don't worry," she told him. (Don't, don't, don't worry, that doesn't do anything.) "He very much wishes he could die."

The boy who had been denied his destiny blanched.

She wasn't sure what he was so scared of (the Silver wasn't either, but she dimly remembered, desperately wanting it to stay deep, deep inside, but it was out, out, out, free, the Silver was-).

"Sorry," she said, but it meant nothing. (Sorry, sorry, sorry, but that's not good enough.) It never did (enough).

Sorry.

Long, long ago a goddess had felt sorry (sorry, sorry, sorry) for the Silver. It was bad and mean and scary, but she remembered what it was supposed to be (she remembered, she had been there, when a goddess delivered justice from the back of a silver dragon). She remembered when the Silver was good (the Silver didn't, not really, words were just words and memories fade).

That goddess she told to the Silver, "I will remake you so you won't ever hurt anyone again." (Not ever, ever.) "The world will forget." (And it had.) "But your darkness will remain as blood and woe to any evil that manages to awaken you." (And it had awakened and consumed and laughed and been joyous.)

"Don't worry about it, Potter." She heard Draco say. She felt his hand wrap around hers and pull her down the hall. "That won't do you any good."

She could feel the Silver sleeping within her, within them both and she thought that maybe it would stay that way. (Maybe, maybe it would rest, close its eyes and be still.)

But then again (and again and again was the way of the world) maybe it would not.