Despite the fact that the other horses were no match for Nimbus, Harry couldn't bring himself to slow down on his journey home. At times, when he had ridden so far ahead that he could not see his troop, he would double back until they were alongside him, and then he would shoot off again. He could not leave his party behind, even if there was no danger in being caught alone. That night his sleep was restless, filled with dreams of vivid colours; sunny yellow, deep red, fiery orange, and dark green. Twice he woke in the dark and fought hard to fall back to sleep.
On the second day he was much less eager to return home. Harry's traveling partners could not understand his sudden shift in mood or why he claimed that Nimbus needed to break so frequently. "I rode him too hard yesterday," he lied, avoiding their eyes. It was sundown by the time they took their horses to the stable.
His mother and father were already at the dinner table with tense expressions on their faces. As soon as Harry strode in James stood and walked toward him.
"What news do you bring, son? Why were you thus summoned?"
Harry passed his father with only a quick glance in apology. On the blank space of table where Snape usually ate, he carefully laid down a scroll and yanked off the ribbon. His hands trembled as he backed away and left room for his parents to read on their own. Lily put a hand to her mouth and James smiled. It was a declaration of marriage with the seal of King Arthur stamped into the bottom.
The next morning every able bodied person was gathered in the courtyard directly below the balcony of the castle. Whispers and shouts traveled back and forth across the crowd: some eager, others confused. Criers had carried the message through the streets and pastures: everyone was to stop their activities immediately and congregate before the castle. Women clung to their children and men cast wary glances at one another.
High above them all, waiting for the appointed time, were the Potters. Lord James approached the bannister that ringed the balcony, Harry at his right. The Lady stood on his other side and one step back. The noise that had been rising from the streets was silenced by their appearance. The eyes of every member of each family looked up in wonder.
"People of Godric's Hollow," James shouted, opening his arms in welcome, "today is a day of celebration." An almost unison sigh escaped the lips of those that had feared the worst. "My son, Sir Harry, has visited His Majesty, King Arthur. In a mere fortnight, he shall be married to the king's only daughter, princess Ginevra." A deeper silence than before, one of awe and disbelief, was the audience's response. "Harry Potter shall be Prince of Weasley."
Thunderous cheers erupted from below. James smiled at their excitement, but Harry knew there was more to it. Ginevra wasn't just the king's only daughter, she was the king's only child, a miracle after six boys that had not made it past infancy. Upon her twelfth birthday, the king had announced that his only living child would be heir to the throne, making her husband the monarch after her father passed. It was neither polite nor a good idea to mention King Arthur's eventual death, but it was certainly playing on the minds of all the citizens gathered in the courtyard.
Harry waved and smiled as best he could. The prospect of being Prince, or King, shook him more than he had been willing to admit to either the king or his father. He thought the princess very beautiful, with skin so pale, hair so radiant, and eyes that he could remember perfectly when he closed his own. However, he knew nothing of her, not of her likes, her passions, and certainly not her heart. There must have been a reason that she had rejected all of her past suitors, especially those that approached her offering more than the title of Knight. And he hadn't had more than a few seconds to himself to think of what her logic could be.
Lord James rested a hand on Harry's shoulder, knocking him out of his stupor. The crowd was still bubbling with the news, but the peasants were exiting through the gates quickly, hoping to make up for lost time at the beginning of their work day. Through the mottled gray and brown, Harry noticed a distinct streak of sunny blonde hair darting through the crowd. She pushed past the others as fast as she could and turned west when she made it out of the walls, away from the fields and toward the forest. Without thinking, Harry turned and ran.
Harry stuck to the stairs he knew in the corner of the castle, ones that were only used by servants that wished to stay out of the way. He skipped two or three steps at a time, passing two shocked ladies that pressed themselves against the wall as he passed. Before the courtyard had even cleared, he was amid the crowd of bodies, trying to force himself through the entrance gate that seemed too tiny for everyone. With some effort and apology, he slinked through the workers and ran toward the tree line.
Once Harry was inside the forest, he felt lost. Luna could have gone in any direction from here; she knew the forest as well as Harry and was unafraid. His feet led him straight and he strained his eyes to catch another glimpse of her shimmering hair. For half an hour he searched, calling out her name every few steps. His voice echoed through the trees, but there was never a response. Fear gripped him as he considered the possibility that she had been found by someone else. His pace quickened.
After wandering in circles and coming up with nothing, Harry turned toward the river. His throat was hoarse from shouting and his mouth was parched. The trees curved around an open meadow right next to the river. It wasn't until Harry stepped on a blooming purple wildflower that he realized where he was. How could he have forgotten the space where they had spent so many Sunday afternoons together?
Harry swiveled his head from left to right and then ran to the bank of the river. She wasn't anywhere. With a heavy heart, he sank to his knees. How could he have allowed his father to make the announcement without telling Luna first himself? He knew the reason; he was a coward. He hadn't wanted to see her reaction. He didn't want her to smile the way she would and tell him that she was happy for him, that it was wonderful. It certainly didn't feel wonderful. And worse, he let himself briefly think, what if she had burst out crying, telling him she didn't want him to go or be with another woman?
A heavy sigh escaped him, and Harry bent forward to take a drink. It was only in the rippled reflection of the gently moving water that he saw it. He stared at the water, wondering if it was a mere trick of light, then he turned his head, searching the tree branches until he saw it, saw her. Curled into a ball on one of the highest branches of a nearby maple, half hidden by the colourful leaves, was the girl he had been searching for.
"Luna!" Harry exclaimed, racing to the base of the tree. She didn't seem to hear him. "Luna, what are you doing up there? Haven't you heard me calling your name?" Again she didn't reply. He took a step back and appraised the tree. Three men holding hands would have barely encircled it. The limbs were frequent, but the bark was rough. He stared down at his attire, it was a special outfit meant for days when important announcements were made. It would be ruined before he made it half way up, and that was if his shoes didn't cause him to slip.
"I'm coming up there," he warned, immediately bending over to undo the buckle that held his shoe in place. "Excuse my impropriety."
It took a few minutes to remove the garments himself. He hadn't paid any attention when they were being put on, and the strings in the back were hard to reach with the poufs encasing his arms. By the time he was ready to climb, he had on only a layer of undergarments and short trousers. He supposed his mother would appreciate the kindness he was paying to the special clothes that were left forgotten on the ground.
For the entire trip up the tree, Harry cast nervous glances at Luna's stiff form, wondering if she would move at all, either to meet or to evade him. Yet she held her perch and, when he finally reached the branch that was at the same level as hers, Harry noticed that she wasn't even looking at him. Her eyes, glassy and surrounded by red, puffy lids, were gazing through the nearby trees into the distance.
"Why are you up here, Luna?" Harry eventually asked when she continued to act as though he wasn't there.
There wasn't an immediate answer, yet Harry had resolved to sit in that tree half-dressed until he garnered some response. Thankfully Luna gave in after only a minute of contemplation. "I find the world more forgiving up here."
It wasn't the answer he had been expecting, thus Harry had no reply.
"Congratulations on your impending wedding." There was no cheer in her voice. For the first time in his life, Harry didn't believe her words.
"Is that why you're up here? Because I am to be married? This isn't a very good spot to watch from." His humor didn't improve her mood any, at least not enough to show on her face. "What is it, Luna? You can tell me." He reached a hand out and placed it on her shoulder. "If it's about the wedding, I'll make sure you're there. You can sit wherever you'd like." Surely it wasn't too great of a request, to have a peasant girl at a royal wedding.
Luna looked down at her knees, shook her head and, to Harry's horror, began to cry. He kept his hand on her trembling shoulder.
"How can you not understand, Harry? Why would I want to be there to witness my worst nightmare?" He stared at her with sincere confusion. Luna shook her head again and looked up. "I've been so blessed thus far to grow up with you, to live in your castle, to see you up through your twenty second year without another woman even though you are so admired. How foolish I have been to know that this day was coming and yet hope that it would wait just one day more."
Finally she looked back at him, her eyes pleading. "I have no claim to you, no right to want you, nor any hold over you, but you captured my affection when I was mere child and I have since had no control over my own heart." She bit her lower lip and gave Harry the impression she had more to say. He guessed at what it could be, what she would ask if she thought she had any right to say so. Harry answered for her.
"I don't have a choice, Luna," he said quietly, looking down to the ground below him. Her eyes, formerly something he enjoyed gazing into, seemed to clench the very heart that beat in his chest. "But," it took every bit of self-control he had to look her in those beautiful eyes, "if I did, I would choose you." It wasn't enough, not for either of them, but that was the way of the world.
Tears clouded Luna's eyes, and before she could turn away Harry cupped the side of her face and brushed away the one droplet that had escaped. Then, unthinking, he leaned his face forward and gently pressed his lips to hers.