June 2004
"Mr. Potter, your cloak Sorry for the delay, sir," said the attendant standing before Harry. Harry's fingers clutched at the fabric of his cloak as the boy handed it over to him but Harry shook his head.
"Change of plans – I'm staying. Sorry for your trouble," he muttered, and pushed the cloak back to the boy and turned on his heel.
"Harry?" Ginny asked, her voice laced with confusion. Harry ignored her and made his way back to the bar and sank back onto the stool that he had occupied all evening. Wordlessly and without the command, the bartender pushed a glass filled with scotch into Harry's outstretched hand. He downed the liquor in a single shot and nodded at the bartender to refill his glass.
Harry could feel the alcohol dull his edgy nerves just slightly. Taking a deep breath, he turned his body to face the crowd of the room and sought out Luna. He watched as she moved further into the crowd and watched as nearly every member of the party did a double take as they realized that this woman was Luna Lovegood. Harry imagined everyone struggling to marry this version of Luna – elegant, poised – with Loony Lovegood, Editor-in-Chief of The Quibbler. He felt his anxiety grow.
For the next hour, Harry watched Luna as if his life depended upon memorizing her every single move. He studied the way that she interacted with each person. He analyzed her reactions to their questions, their conversations. Harry memorized the way that she moved her hands, the way that her brow furrowed, and the way that she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth when pausing to formulate an answer to an asked question. And with each passing interaction, Harry's agitation grew. Where was the awkward Luna who never failed to embarrass herself – and others – at any and every social gathering? Because at least if he found a glimpse of that Luna, Harry could almost begin to justify his actions to himself.
But to his increasing horror, Harry began to realize just how wrong he had been about this entire evening and even about Luna. Despite an initial sense of surprise, everyone who interacted with Luna was clearly charmed by the woman she had grown into. Not a single person smirked or began to gossip when their conversation was over and everyone seemed genuinely intrigued by what Luna had to say. And honestly, what had he expected? Did he truly believe that she would have twirled about the room, chasing imaginary pixies to help cure hangovers? And even if she had, Harry had always connected with Luna despite whatever eccentricities she was exhibiting. He stood proudly beside her at Horace Slughorn's ridiculous elitist party and made no apologies for the person she was. Harry clenched his jaw tightly, teeth grinding, as he fought back the feeling of self-loathing that began creeping through his veins.
Harry nodded to the bartender and held two fingers up; only looking back for Luna after the man placed two tumblers of scotch before him. Now that Harry had realized what a complete asshole he had been to her, he began searching for signs of her current feelings towards him. Harry became keenly aware of how small the room was and felt their distance as though she were the center of the universe and he could not help but be pulled in by the force of her gravity. Luna gave no indication that she had any awareness of Harry's whereabouts in the room. She engaged every single person whom she interacted with and provided them with her undivided attention. She never allowed her eyes to stray and search for Harry, and Harry started to wonder if he had ruined their relationship beyond repair. For the second time that night, he had to bite back the bile as it crept up the back of his throat.
And Rolf. Rolf was beginning to infuriate Harry. As the night progressed and Harry continued his vigil watch on the pair, he felt anger beginning to simmer beneath his skin. Rolf was like a pathetic, love sick puppy. If Luna moved two steps to her right, Rolf was right behind her like a shadow. He lingered awkwardly on the periphery of whatever Luna was engaged in and practically glowed whenever she turned her attention to him, as if he were a dog starved for attention. And though Luna always maintained a respectable distance, Rolf hovered. At one point, Harry had to stop himself from going after the man after seeing Rolf place his hand on the small of Luna's back. "I'll kill him," Harry promised himself.
Harry's head perked up as he noticed Luna detaching herself from Rolf and crossing the room towards his perch at the bar. But just as she reached him, she turned and headed down a small side hallway that held the restrooms. Before he could collect his thoughts, Harry jumped up and rushed after her. The ridiculous amount of scotch he had consumed caught up with him and Harry's head began to swim.
"Luna," he called out, reaching an arm to steady himself against a wall. Luna turned around with a smile that instantly vanished as soon as she realized who said her name. But Luna didn't immediately turn back around and Harry recognized his chance – maybe his only chance to say anything that could possibly make things right.
"Luna, you… I…" Harry stammered and Luna's left eyebrow arched. "You look beautiful," Harry finally said, breathlessly.
"Really, Harry?" Luna asked, rolling her eyes. She turned back towards the ladies' restroom and pushed the door open. Harry immediately straightened and began to walk after her but stopped short as he heard the door's lock snap shut. He banged his fist against the door and said softly, "Luna, open the door."
"Go away," she retorted from within, and Harry heard the sound of running water.
"I have a wand. I'll just unlock the door if you don't let me in. We need to talk," he slurred. The door flew open and Harry stumbled back as Luna pushed a hard finger into his chest. She backed him up against the wall and Harry felt a crack as his head crashed against the stone wall.
"No," Luna said through gritted teeth. "We do not need to talk. Not about this, not about us, and certainly not here. You will respect my wishes and leave me alone for the entire evening. I am here to have a nice time despite the hell you've put me through for the past four days. You will not ruin this for me. Now, leave me the hell alone." Luna pushed past Harry and before he could decide if it was a good decision, he grabbed her arm as she walked past and pulled her back to him, forcefully. Harry was dimly aware that he was being too rough with her but the panic at her coldness and the fuel from the scotch spurred him on. Luna struggled against his grip and consequently, Harry tightened his fingers against her arm.
"Let go of me," Luna pleaded. "For God's sake, you're hurting me. Let go." She pulled against him and with her free arm, pushed back against his chest. Harry did not budge. Harry spun her around, pinning her between his body and the wall that she was now backed up against.
"We need to talk," he repeated himself and struggled to meet her eyes. The liquor had made everything hazy and Luna's figure began to swim in front of him. "I fucked up. I know that. But I love you, Luna. I am in fucking love with you," Harry said, his voice picking up volume. "Why'd you let me go on like that? Why didn't you call me on my shit? And who the fuck is that guy?" Harry blinked as Luna's face came into focus. He was able to briefly register the tears rolling down her face and the look of utter panic in her eyes before a strong hand gripped the back of his neck and ripped him backwards. Harry dropped his hold on Luna's arm as he toppled to the floor.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ron's voice demanded from somewhere above Harry's body. Harry blinked a few times and watched as Luna scurried down the hallway where she met a confused Rolf and a horrified Hermione. From behind Ron, Ginny stared down at Harry as though she had never seen him before. Harry watched as Rolf nodded earnestly and turned, guiding Luna from the room.
"Wait! Luna!" Harry bellowed and began to scramble to his feet. Ron shoved roughly against Harry's shoulder, knocking him to the floor once more.
"Are you a fucking lunatic? She's gone, Harry. Leave her the fuck alone," Ron shouted. "And who the fuck do you think you are? Putting your hands on a woman like that?" Ron stared at Harry in disgust. "I don't know who the hell you are anymore. I don't even recognize you anymore." Ron turned on his heel and walked back to Hermione who was visibly shaking.
Harry looked up at the only person left standing in the tiny hallway. Ginny. Harry shook his head and slowly began to right himself, using the wall as his guide. As soon as he was fully right, Harry looked back to Ginny and came face to face with the end of her wand. He'd seen the current look in her eyes before but never, ever directed towards him. Ginny looked at him with something that came very near to pure hatred. "If you go after her, I will curse you. And I won't hesitate to make it hurt," she said.