The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season Ten, Round 6

Team: Tutshill Tornados

Position: Beater 1

Prompt: Brave Danny Flint

Part of the prompt I was inspired by:

Oh Danny Flint you'll never escape

The Fate the Gods have written

And life must seem the cruelest jape

Oh Brave Young Danny Flint.

Additional prompts: (pairing) Ginny/Luna

(dialogue) "You stab them with the pointy end."

(weather) rainy

(food) peach

Word Count: 2,988

Warnings: Mentions of the Death Eaters, particularly the Carrow twins, but no explicit mentions of what they were doing to the students. It's quite heavy, emotionally, at times, but I tried to mix it in with some lighter, happier relationship stuff. It also deals slightly with Ginny's worries and insecurities about her family, which I seem to like doing with her.

Notes: This is slightly canon-divergent, since Ginny and Harry are officially done, they've broken up, and Luna is still at Hogwarts but hasn't been kidnapped, although I alluded that her father has.

Every time they meet, it always seems to be raining. Every time, Ginny can't decide whether to be thankful that the noise of pattering raindrops masks her footsteps as well as any silencing charm, or sad that it blurs everything past the windows into a greying blur; Luna deserves to see something bright, something colourful and beautiful, just like her. Under cover of darkness, she makes her way to the Room of Requirement, unseen, the weight of her magic like a cloak around her shoulders, hiding her from any prying eyes.

She knows she's there before she even opens the door, can almost feel her on some magical, intrinsic level; it feels like coming home, warm fires and warmer laughter and fiery kisses to match fire-red hair. But it doesn't burn her, does spark up a riotous cloud of smoke, doesn't choke her lungs until Ginny feels like she can't prove, worry and panic and Oh, God, is this really it, am I really going to watch him leave me again...?

It's simpler, sweeter. That doesn't make it any less powerful.

Taking out her wand, Ginny dissolves the invisibility spell, shaking out her shoulders as she wraps her jumper more firmly around her. There is a fire going in the grate, amber ribbons of light that spark off the graceful slope of Luna's nose where she sits curled up on the long blue couch, the same perfect shade as her eyes. Ginny crosses the room easily, seeking out her warmth like a moth, letting her head rest inches from hers, so close she can count every one of the other witch's eyelashes, starbursts of brilliant gold against porcelain-pale cheeks.

The magic of the room is fit to the occupant's needs -every Hogwarts student knows that. This room is small, perhaps a little bigger than her bedroom at the Burrow, enough space for this couch and the fireplace and a table and a bed and...their love for each other. It's their secret hideaway, somewhere only they know, where only they go: this room does not exist for anyone else. Just like they'd decided to not exist for anyone else, to not be anything but themselves; it's all they have to hold on to, right now. This room and one enough and what they feel, a friendship that somehow blossomed right under their noses, nurtured by an unseen hand until it was all they could see.

Now, Ginny can't unsee Luna Lovegood, and she knows she never wants to.

"Hi," she murmurs, tucking a moonlight-white strand of hair behind Luna's ear. "I missed you today."

Luna smiles, leaning into her touch. "You saw me at breakfast not twelve hours ago."

"That's nearly half a day," the Weasley points out indignantly. "Far, far too long for my liking."

"Really?" Luna teases her, shifting forward so that their knees brush, a pale forearm sticking out of her overlarge jumper as she rests it along the top of the couch for support. "And what would you prefer?"

The answer comes as easily as breathing, as easy as getting on a broom, as easy as worrying about her brother out in the world with her ex-boyfriend and her best friend on some stupid quest. "Forever. I'd ask for forever, if I could."

"That's not very practical, Gin," Luna chides her, but there's no real heat behind it, a contrasting sparkle in her eyes saying Yes, I want that, too. "Not even witches and wizards live forever, only a vague approximation. And look what happened to poor Nicholas Flamel, and even Dumbledore..." she trails off, the loss of their Headmaster still smarting like a cut, angry like a sting, venomous as a bite. If he were still here, they wouldn't have to resort to sneaking around like this. Ginny wouldn't ache with terror every single day over what might happen to her family, Order members all. Luna wouldn't be scared about her dad, who hasn't answered any of the letters they'd been able to smuggle out, with the help of Aberforth down in Hogsmeade.

Ginny could bring her love out into the light, and let it shine for the whole world to see.

"I know we don't have forever, Luna," Ginny replies, taking her hand in hers, alike and yet so different. Ginny's is rough with years of callouses from broomsticks and brawls with her brothers, from pulling weeds in the garden and chasing after gnomes and climbing every tree she saw, no matter how high, no matter the fall looming before her. Luna's is smooth, speckled with spots of ink, a cascade of charm bracelets and woven ribbon and bells wrapped around her wrist like she's a kite and this is her one string, tethering her to the ground, to the here and now. It's also her way of defying the strict Hogwarts dress code, of standing out and being herself in her own little ways.

Unlike most people Ginny knows, Luna is quiet about her rebellions, doesn't feel the need to rush into every battle with a war cry streaming from her lips like blood, blood that will not doubt only be spilled.

She's with her. She's safe. That's all Ginny wants for her. That, and happiness, and maybe a date, but there is a war on, so she'll take what she can get. And speaking of getting...

Unfolding herself from the couch, Ginny presses a kiss to Luna's forehead before scrambling towards the coffee table, on which rests an old record player, enchanted, an almost exact replica of the one currently residing in her family home. Setting the needle on the record, the quiet beginnings of the Weird Sister's cover of 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' begins to fill the room, encompassing them in a cocoon of aching, bittersweet melancholy, so very appropriate for their current predicament, the stolen moment unfolding before them like a red carpet and they're royalty, royally lucky to have found each other.

"I got some things for you," Ginny grins, bubbling over with excitement, the feeling growing with heartfelt intensity when Luna replies with an airy, "Oh, that's good, since I got presents for you as well. Everyone should have something for Christmas," rather than saying something like No, you shouldn't have or No, we're not like that, we're not even dating -which was true. They hadn't been able to go on a proper date, to hold hands in the hallways, too scared to broadcast their affection and make the other a target, since they were both on the Carrows' radar due to their affiliation with Harry Potter, the fact that they didn't believe in Pureblood superiority, and the fact that they had both been at the Ministry when Harry broke in to steal the prophecy and hexed a few Death Eaters in the process.

Waving her wand, Ginny reverses the shrinking charm she'd put on the presents so that they'd fit in her pockets, suddenly embarrassed over their smallness. She feels even worse when Luna pulls out hers from under the couch cushions, each one neatly wrapped in shining paper, with bows, whilst she'd used copies of last week's Prophet and a shoelace from a pair of trainers that no longer fit. She feels inadequate, unseen, like when she'd been too small to see over the dinner table, when her brothers had to lift her up to sit on the swing.

And then, like a bubble floating on a breeze, Luna blows it away. "Goodness, is that the article on Newt Scamander? I've been wanting to read it for ages. That's so sweet of you."

Ginny chuckles, amazed by Luna's infinite capacity of finding the best out of everything, the good hiding in between the bad. Just like she'd done with her, those first few weeks after Bill and Fleur's wedding, when she'd watched Harry disappear in a crowd of terror and chaos and discarded wedding cake. Luna had been the one to hold her as she cried in their compartment on the Hogwarts Express as the train pulled away from the station, had kept on crying until she made it to tye platform, and Luna had still not let go. She'd brought her breakfast when she didn't eat and sung silly songs at the top of her lungs when Ginny wouldn't smile, and then she's woken up one day and realized...it didn't hurt as much.

Ginny Weasley could get through anything, so long as she knew Luna Lovegood would be right there beside her. With her, and not just within the confines of friendship. So, as the world outside crumbled, they built something new, together. Like the phoenix Dumbledore used to have in his office, rising out of the ashes and setting everything ablaze with it's colour, it's light.

"I know it's not much...but I hoe you like them, anyway."

Ginny watches her girlfriend unwrap her presents, feeling like she's dangling from a cliff whilst simultaneously trying not to wake a sleeping dragon.

"Oh, wow, Ginny. You got me peaches."

"Neville helped me smuggle them in especially, since they're not on the usual list of supplies. But I wanted to get you something special, and I remember you saying how your mother used to make peach pie for you when you were little, and how she always smelled like peaches-"

The young witch's words are cut off when Luna tackles her with a hug, lips meeting hers in a searing kiss. Ginny responds back, hungrily, fingers curling in the ends of Luna's hair, twining it around and around, giving her something to hold on to.

"It's perfect, Ginevra. You're perfect."

She ducks her head, attempting to hide her blush as she urges her, "Open the next one."

Luna's more careful with this one, fingers hesitant, perhaps alerted by the unusual shape that this obviously isn't a book or box of chocolates.

Neither of those are going to save Luna's life in a fight.

The Ravenclaw stares down at the silver dagger for several seconds, at the hilt embedded with tiny sapphires, catching the light of fire and reflecting it back in a flurry of blue sparks.

"Ginny...I don't understand. Why did you get me this? Why would I ever use something like this? Who would I use it on?"

Isn't is obvious? "Anyone who tries to hurt you. In a fight, your opponent is expecting the first thing for you to do is reach for a wand. Now you'll have this, and the element of surprise."

"I don't even know how to use it," Luna murmurs softly, voice barely above a whisper. Ginny takes the blade from her lap, twirling it in between her fingers like a baton. Luna is not a violent person, not be nature, and it's one of the things Ginny loves about her...but she can't stand the thought of her getting hurt, wants Luna to have every advantage possible.

Bravery and sweetness and not always enough to keep you alive.

"It's pretty easy," Ginny says, hoping to break some of the tension that has unexpectedly settled on them like falling snow. "You stab them with the pointy end."

"Them?" Luna echoes confusedly.

"Whoever's idiot enough to think they can hurt you and get away with it, that thinks you won't fight back. It's just a precaution, Luna. I will never, ever let anyone hurt you. But just in case, if there is ever a day or time when I'm nit here...I want to do everything I can to make sure you still are." Ginny moves her attention to the fire, admitting to tye flames, "I, um, sort of have some abandonment issues, apparently."

Immediately, the thought of Harry hangs between them, as sentient as the ghosts that roam these halls, and it appears that the young Weasley isn't the only one thinking of The Boy Who Lived, because Luna sets down the peaches and the dagger, looking her straight in the eye as she says, "Neville told me that there was a sighting, supposedly near Godric's Hollow. A young woman with brown curly hair...and a young man with dark hair that stuck up-"

"Like a porcupine that's just been electrocuted?" Ginny interjects, watching raptly as a slight smile crosses Luna's face.

"Yes, I suppose it does. Must be why the Nargles like him so much. Then again, he is just a generally nice guy."

Ginny can't help but agree. He's hurt her like no one else, but he was, is, only trying to save the Wizarding World. She'd just thought she was a more important part in his.

Taking her hand in hers, Luna asks softly, like she's hesitant of her answer, "Do you still...think about him? Do you miss him?"

"Not like I'd miss you," the redhead responds instantly, which is nothing but the truth. Her feelings for Harry died a long time ago, had been laid to rest beside the body of Harry's greatest hero, the man he'd sacrificed so much for. Yes, a part of her would always love him, but being in love with him...that was a thing of the past. Luna was her present, and hopefully her future, too. If things went well. If they survived what was to come.

Luna nodded sympathetically, her eyes blue pools of understanding. "I'd have to agree. It's just...he's out there, struggling, trying to save us all. And I'm here, eating peaches with you and being happier than I'd ever thought possible...it feels selfish, to the rest of the world. Harry's brave, braver than I'd ever thought he'd be, after years of hearing so many different stories, most of them about him getting into one scrape or another; but he is. He's been cursed to walk such a lonely path, written and decided ever since he was a baby. He spent years living among Muggles, being told he was nothing special...but he is. Then he comes to Hogwarts, learns all about magic, only to find out that that's the very thing that could get him killed. It's a cruel thing, fate. A cruel, cosmic joke orchestrated by the universe that he can't escape. He's just a child, we're all just children, trying to find our way and who we are...why do we have to be responsible for saving the world, too? Or worse, feeling the burden of it?"

Why indeed.

Ginny doesn't have an answer for her. There isn't one, really. This is just the way their world is. It's messy, and brutal and it's cruel just as often as it is magical and wondrous. But there is nothing wondrous about this war. All Ginevra Weasley knows is that she's got on her best green sweater, the only one not covered in ink or mud or holes, and Luna looks so pretty in her lavender dress, and right now, this is where she wants to be, where she'll stay until the morning before sneaking back to her dorm and waiting for whatever fresh hell the day will bring, what news she'll hear, what friend or family she will mourn for while a brave young boy and his friends are out there trying to fix it all, to give them a way to win.

Right now, she wants to kiss her girlfriend, Luna Lovegood, wants to reassure her with her touch if she can't reassure her with her voice and flowery prose about duty and honour and pride, about love and goodness and sacrifice. That she thinks Harry is like a hero from a story, a hero of the Wizarding World, but that also makes him unknowable, untouchable, high up among the buffeted winds of popularity and awe, while Ginny belongs below, holding in to something real, rather than a childhood infatuation that has now gone rotten like spoiled fruit. She wishes him luck, but she doesn't wish he was here, with her.

Ginny would not choose him over Luna, with her in this moment, surrounded by red and blue and walls of echoing rain.

So she doesn't.

She pulls Luna in close and kisses her until her head spins and they're both gasping for breath, and she's never felt more alive. The look in Luna's eyes says she feels the same.

Eventually, Ginny gets round to opening her presents from Luna, touched by the framed photograph of them, together, sitting just like they are now, Ginny flush off a Quidditch victory and Luna wearing her lion headdress with pride. They both only have eyes for each other. Had it started before now, then? Has it always been there, right under the surface?

Had there always been the potential for an 'us' with them?

The idea makes Ginny smile.

At some point after midnight, they end up in the bed, and their whispered words of love and adoration taste like peaches, their kisses, too. Sweet. Fleeting. This could all be gone tomorrow. But Ginny's going to enjoy this time, with her, being herself. Not competing for attention, not feeling overshadowed by her brothers or dragged down by the wait of what's to come.

It's just Ginny, Luna, and the rain.

Author's Note: Hi, everyone! Here's my entry for Round Six of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I've never written Ginny and Luna as a couple before, so I hope I did them justice. I wanted to say thank you to the QLFC judges for the wonderful feedback, I hope you can see I've been taking it to heart, thank you so much for taking the time.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great rest of your weekend!

All my love, Temperance Cain.