The Moon in the Arms of Night

6

Sweet Sorrow

He couldn't do this, he just couldn't. She was the love of his life, and he was going to say goodbye today. The sensation of slowly dying was overwhelming. His lungs refused to work, his heart hammered in his chest wanting to break free of the traitorous shell that contained it, and he was alternately sweating and freezing. He couldn't do this.

He had to do this. His mother needed him, and he couldn't abandon her. Alzheimer's, the doctor had said, and his world had crashed around him. She'd need constant care in a few years, national health would help, but it would require someone there, someone to mind her like a child, someone unencumbered with other concerns. It required him, alone. He stopped, sat on the step of a house he was passing, and wept. He was almost to their flat. He would see her in the doorway, she would throw her arms around him and kiss him and make him want to forget the world, but he couldn't. He was dying.

====#~~~~~~*

Ginny had seen her friend in every state she though she possessed, giddy, sad, mad, and most often, contemplative and serene, but she had never see Luna like this. Distraught, was the closest, but it was a pale, shallow word for the waves of grief and sorrow that were coursing off her. Ginny was thankful that Luna hadn't tried to Apparate in her condition, that she had managed to get out "the Potters" before collapsing out of their flue was a miracle in itself.

Ginny had dashed into the room, wand at the ready, only to discover her best friend lying in a heap on their sitting room floor, sobbing uncontrollably. She'd heard the words "Dean," and "leaving," amid the anguish but that was all. She had briefly thought about finding Dean right then and making him regret being conceived, but Luna wouldn't let go of her. They sat on the couch, she held Luna, and they wept together. Only in the midst of it did Ginny finally realize that this woman that the Sisters called "formidable, powerful," and "their rock," was in fact a delicate creature with a fragile heart, and her heart had been crushed. She felt so small and frail in her arms, almost like sick a child.

After nearly half an hour, Luna was starting to slow. Her breath came on great wracking heaves but the uncontrolled sobbing had stopped. Ginny could feel, though the special connection that the sisters shared, that Luna was regaining some of her composure. When she felt that she could ask a question without sending her off into despair again she stroked Luna's hair and took a calming breath.

"Can you tell me?"

"I'll try,' and she dissolved into tears again.

"He is going to regret this," Ginny said through clenched teeth.

"He already does, maybe more than me, it's not his fault," and she cried a little harder, pounding a sofa cushion with her fist.

"How could this not be his fault? He's leaving you. I know you didn't do anything wrong."

"Neither did he," Luna said with a half hearted smile. "He's actually being noble and brave and FUCKING GRYFFINDOR! And she threw herself against Ginny in a renewed burst of anguish. After she had calmed a bit, Ginny tried again.

"Okay, what noble crusade has him giving up the woman of his dreams, and I know you are. He's told anyone who'll listen."

"His mother," Luna said. "She has a Muggle illness, Alzheimer's disease it's called. Do you know about it?"

"No."

"I didn't either, but Dean told me all about it before…" and she took several hitching breaths.

"It's alright; you don't have to talk about that part."

A fresh wave of sadness ran through Ginny. There wasn't going to be a villain in this. She wasn't going to be able to mass the Sisters and go to the foe to exact retribution. There was no one to curse, no one to blame, just an illness.

"Can you tell me about this illness?"

"It's a brain wasting disease. They slowly forget… everything. They become angry and confused, and they fade away and die. It can take years.

"And he doesn't want your help?"

"He thinks it would be bad for me to be around her. He said watching me watch her die, watching me feel her die, was something he couldn't take, or put me through. He's afraid it would damage me because of my 'sensitivity'." She lowered her head. "He's probably right, but I wish I could try. He just won't let me." She wasn't sobbing now, but the tears had not stopped flowing once since she had arrived.

"There's nothing to be done then? The Muggles can't cure it?"

"No, nor can the healers. They just don't know what causes it. If the healers at St. Mungos knew what it was they could probably do something, but they don't regularly treat Muggles, we don't get this disease, and they have never had a case to study. They don't really want to; it'd be a huge undertaking for something that doesn't afflict us." Luna was almost speaking normally now, and Ginny risked a touchy question.

"So Dean has to take care of his Mum?"

"Yes, and he has to start soon. The reason they found out was because she started leaving the burners on, and forgetting what day it was, little things, and she is getting a bit testy. She even got snippy with Dean last time we were over. Never with me though, she likes me." A fresh wave of tears came. "I'd hoped to call her Mum uhum m" and she was weeping again.

====#~~~~~~*

"Hermione, come to my place."

The end of Ginny's wand was pressed to the galleon on the charm bracelet she always wore. After more than an hour Luna had asked for the loo, and Ginny took advantage of her momentary absence to call for help. She needed her older sister, now. While she waited for Hermione she went to the kitchen and got two glasses of water and put on a kettle. Hermione stepped from the flue, wand in hand, as Ginny was coming back into the sitting room.

"What happened?"

"I have to make this quick. Luna's in the bathroom, Dean's leaving her."

"What!"

"Ssh! His mum has some sort of Muggle illness, allminers or something."

"Alzheimer's," Hermione said in a low, stunned voice. "It's a death sentence."

"Hermione, she's been crying uncontrollably for most of the last hour. I'm worried, I've never see her anything like this. I want to go over to their place and see Dean. Can you watch her while I'm gone? I really don't think she should be alone, and well, she really is a sister to you and me."

"I ran from a ministry meeting," Hermione said looking serious, "and I would again for her. Go, I'll be here as long as she needs me."

====#~~~~~~*

"Dean Thomas!" Ginny's voice echoed through the flat, "where the fuck are you."

He let out a heavy sigh. Packing all his possessions had reminded him of how interwoven his and Luna's life had become after the war. From the moment they had wound up at Shell Cottage they hadn't parted, ever. They had spent the days immediately following the Battle of Hogwarts at the school, burying the dead, helping rebuild, and reveling in their freedom. She had blossomed. Dean had found that, much to his amazement, Luna had never had anyone but her parents love her. He was dumbfounded by this, as he couldn't imagine loving anyone else. At the midsummer break they had gone to her home to help her father rebuild. Dean was stunned when Mr. Lovegood had insisted that he share Luna's bed. Mr. Lovegood had then told Dean a rather reveling story about him and Luna's mother that still made Dean uncomfortable to think about, but the lesson was clear; don't stand in true love's way. Mr. Lovegood had pointed out to Dean that he knew true love on sight, and he was overjoyed his daughter had found it on the first go.

They had gone to his home, and his mother was a little less enthusiastic about their sleeping arrangements, but she had conceded in the face of Luna's formidable debating abilities. That was one of Dean's proudest moments, his mother and the woman he loved recognizing each others intellect and love for him. They had slept in Dean's room that night. A fresh wave of tears flowed down his cheeks. Now both of them would forget him, one because her mind would betray her, and the other because she had to.

He had been packing the last of his clothes from the mess that was their bedroom, and committing the smell of the room to his memory. It was their smell, the scent of Luna and him, and it would die today along with a good portion of Deans soul. He wiped his face with the shirt he held in his hands, and strode from the room to face Ginny.

He found her in the little sitting room of their flat. Ginny was quaking with fury, and little sparks of copper magic danced at the ends of her hair. "This had better be the best explanation of your life, Dean Thomas. I want to kill you Dean, I really do. You… She's…" and Ginny was momentarily speechless in her anger.

"You know the last thing I want to do… I would rather die…Make her cry."

He was on his knees weeping before her.

"CRY? Cry is an understatement of historic magnitude. Dean she's… I don't know what she is, broken, shattered, devastated." With each word he crumbled a little more. The tall, muscled, ebony Adonis that Ginny was used to seeing was a fetal wreck on the floor of the sitting room, and he was howling in grief.

"Do it! Ginny please! PLEASE!" he grabbed the end of her wand and pressed it to his chest. "Reducto, as hard as you can, it's not unforgivable. I asked for it, I'm begging! Please take this away. Make it stop!" He sobbed.

Ginny wrenched her wand from him, and backed away as he crumbled once again to the hardwood. It was possible he was worse off than Luna. She stowed her wand and grabbed him under one arm. Gently tugging she got him to his feet, and put him on the couch.

"Stay," she told him, and she went to the kitchen to put on a kettle. When she returned to the sitting room Dean was curled in a ball on the couch, and she was struck by the similarities between his and Luna's reaction.

"Dean, you don't have to do this," she said. "She'll help, we'll all help."

"You don't understand, Ginny." He said as he sat up and put his head in his hands. "This disease, it robs you of the person, takes them away piece by piece. Luna likes my mum, and she would grow to love her. I know she would, it's the way she is, and then…" he couldn't say it. "And I can't put her through losing another mum."

So that was it. Ginny shook her head, Gryffindor to the core this one. "She would do it for you. You should let her."

"It's more than that. I've read up on it. I had some suspicions before the doctor visit, so I did a little revision." He chuckled once. "It places an enormous burden on the caretakers. Magic will help me there, but still the emotional toll is huge. The biggest thing though is she would feel mum… fade. She's so sensitive, I think I'm the only one outside the Sisters that knows how much, and she would be dragged down with mum. I won't let that happen. I can't stand by and watch both of then be destroyed."

Ginny sat next to him and put her arm around his shoulders. "She's a lot stronger than you think. She can do this, Dean. Let her."

"This isn't her life, the life she's supposed to lead. Her life is exploring, finding the snorekacks, and humdingers, and all the other creatures she knows exist but no one else does. That's her life, not stuck here with me tending my mother as she slowly dies. I have to let her live that life; it would destroy us both if she stayed."

"And that's different from now how exactly?" Ginny asked.

"Because she's young, she's only twenty three. Her fellowship with the Scarmander foundation came through, did you know that? She'll be free to pursue the rumors, and legends to find them. She'll make a name for herself, a much better one than she had, and she'll find love again. If Neville wasn't already engaged he'd be tripping over my shoes to get to her." Dean smirked. "She'll find happiness again, or it'll find her. It always does."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Your happiness doesn't count?"

"My life just got spoken for this morning." His head was back in his hands. "I had a ring. It's right here, wanna see it? Someone should besides Lavender." He pulled a small velvet covered box from is pocket. "I had planned on asking her next week, it's the sixth anniversary of our first kiss."

Ginny's eyes welled again. The little box contained a ring of surpassing beauty. Gold and silver wove in a wonderful knot work pattern. Where it widened at the top, two carved obsidian hands held a blue diamond. "Oh Dean, it's beautiful."

"I designed it myself. Lavender helped me with the goblins; they're the same ones that did her ring. Guess I won't be needing it now." He said.

Ginny closed the box and handed it back to Dean. It disappeared back into his pocket.

"Did she know?"

"I was keeping it a secret, but you know with her that's pretty imposable. I mean… you know, she promised not to look in my mind unless I said it was okay, but sometimes it just happens. I'm thinking she knew, and that's probably why she reacted the way she did."

"Maybe, that would make some sense, but Dean you were going to ask her to marry you. For better for worse, sickness and health, all that, and she would have."

"Yeah, but it's not me that's sick. Like I said, I can't ask her to bear the burden of my sick mum."

"Your sisters can't help?" She asked.

"They have lives and families of their own. Lobelia has twins, and Shannon is expecting her second. I'm the one; it's got to be me."

"You're committed to this?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm getting Harry, Ron, and Seamus here then. You shouldn't be alone." At his look she added, "Argue with me and you'll regret it."

====#~~~~~~*

Ron held Hermione as she wept. To be honest he had shed more than a few tears himself tonight. She wept for her friend. Luna deserved so much, and Dean had brought her the kind of happiness that eluded so many. When Ginny had told her through her own tears, about the ring, Hermione had almost broken down from the shear sadness of it all. Luna was on the verge of the dream, and it had been snatched away.

She told Ron between the sobs that it was like watching a friend die, that Luna and Dean had become a single noun, just like Harry and Ginny or Ron and Hermione. Now there would just be Luna or there would be just Dean, but that symbiotic person that they were together was gone.

She wept for Dean. He had lost the most today. When he had awoken this morning he had a wonderful woman that he was certain would marry him, a mother whom he loved and loved him, a future with little mocha skinned children. Now the love of his life was moving in with Lavender and Seamus. Luna just couldn't stay at their flat so Lavender had instantly taken her to theirs, and made it plain that she would be staying for the foreseeable future. Now Dean would spend who knew how long watching as his mother slowly drifted away. His own things, as meager as they were, were now at his mothers. Most of the paintings that has filled the flat had been taken by Ron and Harry to Grimmuald, and Kreture had carefully packed them away.

All but one, it was from the first anniversary of the battle. Dean had cornered every one of the surviving DA members, and over the following two months made them sit for the painting. He had even included himself. Harry had insisted that one be hung at Grimmauld Place.

====#~~~~~~*

"What's that, dear?"

"That's a Blibbering Humdinger, Mum."

"And that?"

"Crumple Horned Snorkack."

"Is that a gorilla?"

"Yeti, Mum."

"Who's she?" That question hurt.

"That's Luna, Mum."

"Do I know her?"

"You did, Mum. She's gone now."

"I liked her, didn't I?"

"Yes Mum, you did."

"This is a lovely painting, son. Who's it for?"

"Luna, Mum. It's a wedding present."

"That's so nice of you, Dean. She must be a good friend."

"The best Mum, The best."

The painting was of Luna surrounded by the creatures she sought. It was a large piece two feet wide and three feet tall. Luna sat on a tree stump, with her notebook in her hand, and Pelly the badgewonk in her lap. The creatures, strange and beautiful, surrounded her. He was on the verge of being finished. A few more dabs of paint here and there, and he would be ready for the charm that brought the subjects to life. He was interested to hear what some of them sounded like.

He had gotten the wedding invitation months ago, but watching her marry another man would have been impossible to bear, so he had sent his regrets, and promised a wedding present that they would love. He was nearly finished. Seamus would deliver it for him, and receive the thanks. Dean was still having trouble being near her for any length of time. They had bumped into each other at various functions, and she was always cordial and friendly. He had tried his best to reciprocate, but it was getting harder and harder. He knew someone would come along and find her as imposable not to love as he had, and after a few years Rolf had.

Dean had met him once at a Muggle gallery opening of his non-magical work. Luna had brought him, as a friend, to the gallery to see his paintings. She was present in many of his early works, a nymphet among the trees, a Venus in the waves, a sun goddess in the desert, and always with her Mona Lisa smile. There was only one that he was slightly nervous about. The centerpiece of the exhibit was a full size portrait of Luna nude and reclining against a tree in a forest.

Rolf had been very complimentary, and Dean had found him to be nice, but a bit emotionless. He was a bit taken aback when almost exactly a year later he had received the wedding announcement. Seamus had stayed with him that night, and they had gotten as pissed as possible. As he stood before the finished work preparing to do the charm he broke. Seamus would have to do it. He couldn't bring her to life and then let her go. As he stood there crying his mother came back in the room.

"Why are you crying, son?"

"It's nothing, Mum," he said as he tried to compose himself.

"You miss her, don't you Dean?" He spun to her.

"You remember Luna, mum?" It was one of those rare moments.

"She was lovely. I especially liked her voice, so soft, so kind."

Dean was openly weeping. "I miss that too, Mum."

"Why didn't you marry her?"

"I couldn't, mum, too much to do, and I couldn't take her away from the life she was supposed to lead, the one she is leading."

"You're such a good boy, son," and she fell into silence.

Dean watched her as she studied the painting. As he watched her face changed, and she was gone again.

"Who's that?"

There was a sob, "That's Luna, Mum."

AN/ Dry your eyes and wait for the next chapter, it gets better for Luna and Dean. Granted it's a ways in the future.

A lot of this chapter comes from my personal expieriance, love them while you have them.