Aw hell yeah, new chapter!
Man, parts of this have been written for months- and I'm talking, like since June/July. Others were finished about ten minutes ago. I really like this chapter, but God were some parts really hard to get out!
humm, I don't really have anything else to say here- check out the end of the chapter for a few more notes.
Thank-you everyone who left a review for the last chapter/s!
Read on, and Happy Australia Day!
Part Three: In Which
Chapter Three: The Lunar Cycle is Found
He runs.
He runs, and vines and trees bow out of his way; springing back into place behind him.
He runs, and in the distance he hears the savage howls of wolves and darker things. Their piercing cries spur him on. He should fight them. He knows this. But they dodge and spark and shatter and reform every time he tries; shivering in and out of existence a million times a second.
A root trips him; twists around his ankles like the spindly fingers of a grindylow. He feels the snap and crunch of bones breaking, but there's no pain. Only pulsating fear.
The howls grow closer; transform into wails. He sobs.
"Harry Potter." A woman says from above. The roots disappear, and he rolls onto his back. A young woman hangs upside down from the heavy, drooping branches of a weeping willow. Her generous yellow skirt remains around her feet, untouched by gravity though her blonde hair falls beneath her head like a veil.
The world twists, and suddenly he is falling- arms pin wheeling in the disorientation. He lands with a solid whump on the branch beside the woman. Above his head, the shadow wolves gather about the foot of the willow; snapping and snarling, but they cannot reach them. Comforted for the moment, he stands; the branch makes a far more stable perch than he'd thought it would have. He gathers his thoughts beside the Woman. Their numbers grow with each passing second.
She watches the monsters with a sad expression, "They were once people, Harry Potter."
"Why are they chasing me?"
She shrugs, "Why is the sky blue?"
The woman sighs, "Everyone always worries about the Wolves… They forget that there are darker things in this world than Wolves." Her eyes slide over to him, speculative, "Spiders that lie in webs of silk. The Praying Mantis that eats her mate; children already growing in her belly. The Termites, that eat and eat and eat, working away 'til there's nothing left; 'til all you have is a house crumbling down around your ears." Her head twitches, looking for a sound he can't hear, "And they're silent; so quiet. Like Death itself."
"Who are you?"
The Woman turns to him, and her hair falls about her shoulders in the same movement, "A friend. Who are you, Harry Potter?"
A shiver runs down his spine at the address. He cannot pin down the reason why, "I'm the Master of Death."
She huffs a laugh from her nose; lips twitching upwards in a wry smile, "Good answer." Her gaze returns to the shadow wolves and in the next moment is gone.
"What-" He has a chance to say before the tree begins to crumble around him- as if it were made of sawdust- golden dust rising like snow. And then the world realigns itself and he's falling once again. The wolves howl in victory as he lands heavily in the middle of the swarm and they pounce on him, gaping maws opening on his-
He wakes with a start, and for one horrifying moment he still feels the sensation of claws digging at his stomach. His hands fly to the bottom of his sleeping shirt, desperately seeking any evidence of damage, but there's none. His heart hammers away in his chest as though he's run a marathon, and he can feel the effects of adrenalin driving him wide awake. He sighs up at the featureless ceiling above, fully aware that he is unlikely to get back to sleep tonight. This is the third nightmare in as many days.
"Fuck." He says eloquently to the plasterboard and paint.
It says nothing in reply.
He waits for Hermione in the kitchen commune. She arrives sometime after six; he's halfway through his third cup of tea.
"I want to find Luna."
Hermione blinks at him over the makings of her breakfast, surprised, "Why?"
He shrugs helplessly, "I don't know. I just feel like we need to."
His friend frowns; eyes him warily, "Harry, these people aren't ours, and we're not theirs. Luna has her own life; her own friends and family. We're complete strangers to her- we've no right to go barging into their business."
He makes a troubled noise at the back of his throat, "I get that. I don't know why- I just think we need to go find her. In particular."
Her gaze turns thoughtful; wary, "Is this a magic thing? Is something telling you we need to see her?"
"If I say yes, will you go with me?"
She rolls her eyes, "I'd go with you regardless, you know that."
"It was just a dream. Or three. Nothing special."
She purses her lips, "Special enough to make you want to find her immediately upon waking."
"Okay, a nightmare. And she was in it; Luna, but not Luna. I think it's this universe's Luna. She knew me Hermione."
She frowns in concern, but there's still a doubtful cast to her expression, "Harry, it could just be your subconscious, doing its thing. There are any number of explanations for this."
He sighs heavily, "My gut tells me we should find her."
Hermione smiles wryly, "Harry, need I recount the number of times your gut has been wrong? Because it's quite the list."
He grimaces, "It's gotten better! I was an Auror for over a decade- still not dead." She stares at him, unimpressed, "Please, Hermione. Come with me."
She sighs heavily, as though resigning herself to going through with an obnoxious child's request, "Fine. But let it be known that if things go awry, I maintain the right to say 'I told you so.'"
He pulls her into a grateful hug; he is relieved, "You can get Tony to buy me an 'I told you' cake, if the need takes you. Thank-you."
She grins wickedly, "Don't thank me yet. You haven't seen the cake Tony will definitely have get for you."
It doesn't take much to convince their housemates that they needed to go to Britain.
Magic, as it turns out, is a reasonable excuse for many things; including looking for the doppelgänger of a woman they knew in their universe on little more motivation than some dreams Harry had had. Luna is easy to find- Hermione's search for people they knew back in their early days here had found her name registered in Winders Place; a hospice known for its care of those with mental health issues. According to her records- which Harry is very sure they aren't actually allowed to look at- she was admitted there with undifferentiated schizophrenia by her husband three years ago. Terms like frequent psychosis; positive symptoms; olfactory and auditory hallucinations; confabulated future events and mild delusions of grandeur litter her mental history, along with other terms he can't even begin to comprehend.
Knowing of her uncanny ability to pinpoint truths and future events in their world, Harry knows Hermione was right not to write her off as mad. With mutants in this world, there was every chance her 'visions' were truly that.
With that said, finding themselves a companion to accompany them proves harder. Natasha and Clint are on a covert mission in who-knows-where; Steve is meant to be going to the children's ward in some hospital somewhere and Harry is reluctant to allow him to back down from the event on their behalf. Thor was… Thor, and was God knows where at the moment- knowing his amour for Jane Foster, Harry thinks it prudent not to ask. Tony was in Paris, as he'd been the last three days for some SI trade agreement; leaving only Bruce as their travel companion. Harry thinks it says a lot about how much the Avengers trust them, that no one even bats an eyelash at the idea of sending the scientist off with them. Bruce, who isn't exactly much of a threat to two capable magic users, outside of turning into a giant green rage monster.
They take a portkey sometime after nine. Bruce is only slightly reluctant after the last time, but confident of his capabilities. Harry's grateful- whilst he and Hermione did have their own admittedly illicit travel documents, portkey was a million times faster, and after three bad dreams with Luna, getting to her has gained a sense of urgency in his mind. He's not sure if he should be worried or not, and the reasonable warnings from Hermione war with his desire to find her.
They land in an empty field just south of Winders Place, hidden behind the gnarled line of a sickly looking yew hedge. Bruce lands with vaguely more aplomb than he had the last time, stumbling across the damp grass and looking a little green around the gills (the good kind of green thankfully… if there was any). Hermione gives the older man a commiserating smile.
"Okay?"
He nods tightly, "Enough. How do you ever get used to that?"
Harry shrugs, "Just desensitised. Used 'em so much you just know what to expect."
"Like a rollercoaster."
"Yeah, I guess."
Bruce sniffs and cautiously adjusts his skewed glasses. He peers through the hedge curiously, "So it's through here?"
Harry casts a sidelong glance at Hermione, who shrugs, "Unless I'm wrong, yes." He snorts in amusement- she makes it sound so unlikely.
Harry takes a long moment to appreciate the bitingly crisp, unfiltered air. There's nothing like the smell of the country, and he's missed it fiercely after being cooped up in New York for weeks on end. He copies Bruce and finds a gap in the sickly hedge; from here he can just make out the white walls of some large building, hidden behind its own share of trees on the other side of the road, "Pretty sure that's it." He points (rather meaninglessly) through the thinner section in the direction of the facility. Hermione nods primly, a smug smile on her lips.
He pushes through- uses a bit of magic to ease their way. He doubts it would have made much of an impression if they'd turned up covered in scratches and hair full of leaves.
The road is empty- a narrow, two lane country road that he's sure doesn't receive much traffic. The white lines that divide the road are faded and dirty, but several metres away to their right a clean metal sign states Winders Place, 200m , pointing to a long gravel driveway that crunches underfoot when they reach it. The day is bright and mostly clear (not that it means much in England), and sunlight pours through the gaps between the bare-skinned branches of the trees that line the drive, turning their path into a mosaic of dark tans, umbers and golds.
A stately building can be seen ahead; white, clean angles and messy lines of ivy, growing upwards, curling around barred windows and aged copper drain pipes. It's a remarkably peaceful place, made all the moreso by the general lack of people. It would be disconcerting were it not for the ten or so cars parked around to the left.
Hermione gives him a sideways glance, "It's… nice."
Bruce hums, slightly behind her, "Far better than a lot of the places I've seen."
"Bet it costs a fortune."
Bruce shrugs, "Probably." He frowns a moment, "Did- did you want me to sit out on this? I mean- I'm kind of just here to satisfy SHIELD. If you wanted to see your friend by yourselves, I don't mind finding somewhere to sit."
"She's technically not our friend." Hermione corrects him with a wry smile, "But it's up to you- if you want to sit out or join us, we don't mind either way."
Bruce rolls his eyes, "Do you guys have to work at being so noncommittal?"
Harry grins, "It's a skill."
"One not used nearly enough," Hermione adds, eyes laughing. They draw up to the glass doors of the hospice.
Bruce smiles self-depreciatingly and pulls out a book from his shoulder bag, "I might sit it out then. I wouldn't want to stress her out with too many people, anyway."
Harry presses his lips together to hide his smile at the thought of their Luna stressing about anything. For as long as he'd known her, Luna Lovegood had breezed through everything life had threw at her with that trademark dreamy smile on her face.
Bruce leaves them with an awkward wave; Hermione smiles after the scientist fondly as he wanders around the side of the right wing- the most likely place for a garden with seating. Harry pushes forwards through the glass doors and into the noticeably warmer interior. He takes in the bland cream walls, covered in a mismatch of artworks- professional-grade abstract works mingling oddly with the peeling collages and clumsy watercolours that are obviously made by the residents. It's a funny mix- like the place started out professional and business-like, but gave up part way through. Even the young man sitting behind the flashy reception clashes, in his casual knit sweater and messy blonde hair. His peeling nametag reads Luka.
He smiles broadly at them as they draw closer, "Can I help you?"
"Harry and Hermione Evans. We're looking for Luna?"
The man smiles, and his eyes travel up and down Harry's body appreciatively. He swallows- nervous about the mildly appreciative gleam in his eye. He hasn't garnered looks like that for a long time, "She told me you were coming."
Harry blinks stupidly, "Er, did she?"
An elegantly shaped brow rises. His lips twitch, "Yeah. About a week ago." He tilts his head, "You didn't know?"
Harry smiles bashfully to throw off the man's suspicion, "It was meant to be a surprise. Ma always says not enough people visit Auntie Luna."
The young man leans forwards and twirls a pen around in his hand. His smile turns sad, "Yeah. A lot of people in here don't get many visitors. Miss Lovegood especially. I don't think she's had any visitors since her husband died."
Harry stiffens; he hadn't known Rolf was dead. He fights to hide his surprise, "We're a bunch of lazy sods." He bites out.
"A lot of people are, mate." The blonde drawls, dismissive. He points to an open book on Harry's side of the glass, "Just enter your details in there, and stick them in these badges," He slides through a pair of plastic sleeve badges, hands lingering as though waiting for Harry to touch them. He swallow uncomfortably again. "Miss Lovegood is down the south wing, room 206."
"Thanks."
"Anytime."
He and Hermione leave. His friend has a shit-eating grin on his face that can mean nothing good, "Don't say it."
"He seemed keen on you."
"Stop it."
"Nice looking, too."
"Don't care."
She makes a noncommittal noise. The kind that means she's unlikely to be noncommittal at all, "If you say so."
"I do say so." He finds the signs for the south wing and marches forwards, effectively cutting off anything more the witch had to say. Hermione huffs indignantly.
"I was only teasing, Harry!"
His lips twitch, "I know."
She huffs again as they turn a corner, taking the stairs up to the second level. She hits him lightly across the shoulders, "You arse!"
"You're the one hooking up with Tony. I'd have thought you'd have been used to it by now. Not to mention you're the one making nice with Malfoy. And he's the biggest arse that ever did arse."
She hums, "He's in the same boat as we are, Harry. Only he has no sunscreen."
"I don't know- you'd at least count for a SPF fifteen."
She hits him again, "You are such a prat!" A young nurse walking past them bites her lips to hide a smile. He winks at her and she grins, ducking her head shyly as they pass each other.
They forego the lift for the stairs. The two of them racing each other up like they're twelve again, and when they reach the second floor (though technically it's the third) both pretend that they haven't just run up three flights of stairs, restraining their gasps into heavy breathing through the nose. Both of them are grinning as they walk at a far more sedate pace down the short-ish corridor, counting down the numbers on the rooms, with their hand-written name plates.
206: Luna Lovegood
The door is open- pushed back as far as it will go, and a soft singing emanates from inside; a high-pitched hum that Harry immediately associates with their old friend. He stands on the threshold and looks inside. A woman stands at her window, looking down at something below. She sings a string of nonsensical lyrics to herself, tilting her head to each side. Her long blonde hair catches on her clothes.
He clears his throat, "Luna? Luna Lovegood?" The singing stops and the woman turns around, a bright smile on her face.
"Harry. Hermione. It's about time."
He stares at the woman- familiar, but different. Her clothes were remarkably normal- comfortable tan slacks and a billowy blouse underneath a thick, white-knit cardigan, but she wore her characteristic eccentricities in other ways; flowers in her dirty blonde hair- silk and real; a necklace made of small black zip-ties; feet clad in brightly coloured, mismatched socks. She seems younger than he'd imagined a woman with no magical preservation to be- he wonders if her mutant gene was to thank for that.
She watches them as intently as they regard her, "Huh." She remarks, eyeing him thoughtfully, "You look older than I'd expected."
He blinks; nonplussed, "That's… not something I hear every day, but okay."
She laughs at his bewilderment, "Don't worry Harry," she says lightly and pats his cheek, "You look old to six year olds."
"That doesn't really help, Luna."
She frowns thoughtfully, "Really? I thought it would; six year olds are really very perceptive, you know."
He's interrupted from formulating a reply by the arrival of the medicine trolley. "Meds time Miss Lovegood!" the cheery little nurse says with a sunny smile. She offers Luna a small cup of pills and a plastic cup filled with water. Harry watches the exchange with something that feels very much like guilt settling in his gut; right next to the unpleasantly bland meal he and Hermione had eaten from the convenience store down the road.
"Thank-you Evelyn," Luna says, and swallows the collection of medication with a little grimace. The nurse- whose nametag reads Sally- just smiles at her in thinly veiled confusion.
"Enjoying the company, Ms Lovegood? It must be good to have your children come to visit you."
Harry startles, "We're not-"
"Yes it is rather lovely." Luna cuts him off with a serene smile. "Although they haven't visited me nearly as much as they should, if you ask me." She pats his arm as she speaks, her tone entirely incongruent with her words. He rolls his eyes, "Of course, I'll be leaving soon, so the company won't matter terribly much, I dare say."
The young woman's smile becomes strained; taut. "Is that so?"
"Mhmm." She nods, turning away to face Harry again, "Off you go now Evelyn, if you'd be so kind." Sally backs out of the room, taking with her a strong sense of confusion.
The moment the nurse leaves, Luna spits the two small pills into her hand. There's an air of nonchalance to the action that tells them this is a common occurrence. "They blur things," She offers in explanation, and casually throws them though the slats in her window, "The newer ones are always so trusting."
"Her nametag said Sally." Hermione notes, choosing not to say anything about the other woman's rebellion.
"Evelyn suits her better; I don't think her parents much thought about fitting her to her name. Such a shame."
"You're leaving?"
"Oh yes. I've been stagnant for far too long. I've already contacted some colleagues of mine in America. They'll be picking me up later this week. Charles has a school, last I heard- the children will be a change."
"Er." He offers intelligently. Luna hums as if he makes perfect sense.
"I was really only waiting for you, you know. I've needed a change of scenery for a long time now. The walls here are far too beige." She grimaces as though the word causes her some offence.
"… Sorry?"
"It's okay. I knew you would be late."
She sighs and looks longingly out the second story window. A deep-seated sadness etches itself into the lines of her face. "I miss my Rolf. My sight's never been the same since he went looking for unicorns." She clutches at her elbows and rests her pale forehead against the glass; looks down at the garden below, "I toldhim. I told him he'd find dragons instead, but he didn't listen." She makes a soft sound of frustration or grief, "All the flowers withered and died, you know. But I could never get rid of those damn weeds." He lays a hand on a curled shoulder and squeezes. She tangles her fingers with his. The sadness lingers.
"The world's been dark for a long time, Harry Potter… I worry."
He swallows back the tightness in his throat, "Worry about what, Luna?"
"The Wolves. Little Red. The creatures that hide in forests and eat children whole. There seem to be so many of them these days." Her eyes flicker to where Hermione sits, silent, with that faint, bewildered look she'd often ended up wearing when their Luna spoke. She smiles at the other woman in understanding and Hermione flushes, "I think some tea is in order, don't you?"
Hermione smiles then, the other woman finally speaking her language, "That sound's like a wonderful idea."
Luna nods decisively and busies herself at the tiny kitchenette in the corner of her room. As the electric kettle boils she pulls out three aged teacups. There's a reverence to the way she handles the slightly chipped cups that has Harry swallowing down his sadness. He wonders how much is actually hers in this small but cosy room.
"Teabags only, I'm afraid." She says to the wall, "And I've no milk. Technically I don't think I'm allowed a kettle, but the nurses never say anything about it."
"That's fine."
Luna hums quietly as she pours the water into their cups and carefully passes them over. They thank her, and Luna leans against the kitchenette, holding the teacup delicately in her left hand. Her eyes wander to the darkening sky outside her window. She smiles.
"I saw a triple rainbow once."
Harry raises an eyebrow. He'll never understand how any Luna's mind worked- the sharp twists and turns they took with little provocation, "Really?"
"Mmm. No one ever believed me, but it was as real as you or I. One after the other. Roy-gee-biv. I half thought the world was going to end." She takes a sip of her piping hot tea, a soft look of indignation on her face, "Especially when everyone told me I was imagining things."
Harry hides a smile behind his chipped cup.
Luna insists they take her out into the gardens sometime after their tea. Harry would rather not- the skies have darkened to an all too familiar grey that all-but guarantees rain- but he's not sure when they'll have change to see Luna again; not if she's leaving Winders Place. So they agree, and he and Hermione accompany the woman out into the frigid air. He can already smell the oncoming rain.
Bruce sits with a well-worn book beneath an umbrella and they wave to him as they walk past. In his non-descript clothing he could almost be mistaken for a resident. He gives them a smile and a small wave back, and returns the curious look Luna lands on him with one of his own. The scientist and the seer remain in silent regard of each other for a long moment, before Luna nods minutely and moves along.
Luna takes their elbows and leads them along the gravel path. The yellow stones crunch underfoot. In the cold air there is little else outside but them.
"These gardens are lovely." Hermione remarks when they're out of earshot of anybody. She's right- even in the onset of winter, there are pink and red and white camellias, and lilac-blue butterfly bushes and the stripped down bodies of birch and beech and cherry trees. Most of their leaves are gone- it's late November and winter will be here soon.
Luna hums, "They let some of us tend to them. For many, to watch things grow is a healing process. This garden has helped many a wounded soul find its missing pieces."
"What about you?"
"Oh, I help out sometimes- add a little chaos to the mix to keep them on their toes." She smiles wryly, "But there was never anything broken or bent in me that needed to be fixed."
Hermione makes a sound of discomfort, perplexed, "Then why are you here? Wouldn't you be happier at home?"
Luna shrugs, "I asked Rolf to send me here. The Sight… it's taxing. It comes when it pleases- there was never much I could do to control it. Rolf was forced to take care of me when I had a vision." She stops walking and pulls up the sleeve of her left arm. A thin scar runs down her wrist- so white it almost glows, "I fell down the stairs more than once in the midst of a vision."
She lets go of Harry's arm and bends down beside an empty flowerbed. She picks up a quartz stone and pockets it, for reasons that escape him, "Rolf was always a wandering spirit. It was slowly killing him." She straightens and wanders on, "So I made him let me go."
"Oh Luna," Hermione says in sympathy, "I'm so sorry."
Luna shrugs and pats the witch's hand, "Everything crumbles to dust someday. His someday came and went and the world kept on turning. We had a good decade together."
"But you must miss him terribly."
The Seer looks away. She stares blankly at the thick, waxy leaves of a white flowering camellia, "I do. Very much so."
It begins to rain then- bitingly cold, just as he'd expected. Hermione utters an oath and without a second thought casts a rain-repelling charm on the three of them.
Like a switch has been flipped, Luna laughs in delight at the display of magic and it's so similar to their Luna's laughter that his heart positively aches at the sound.
"Oh, that is glorious!" She exclaims, waving her arms to test the barriers of the spell. Her eyes fall on the wand still in Hermione's hand, "May I?"
They glance around warily, but the rain has sent any possible witnesses inside (excluding Bruce, who remains unperturbed beneath the canopy of the shade- Hermione had cast on him a toasty warming charm a few hours before). His best friend shrugs, "I suppose so."
She hands the wand over with no small degree of caution. Luna accepts the object with reverence, eyes shining in fascination. Her fingers curl around the thin strip of wood, and for the briefest of moments Harry feels the twitch of something; a pull of something in magic of the land. There is a rustling of wind in the shrubs around them, but almost instantly the sensation is replaced by the steady fall of the rain. Luna smiles.
"Worth a try, I suppose." She murmurs, and hands the wand back to Hermione. Harry wonders at the minute reaction, and suspects that whatever magic was in her (for sure that there was some, to garner any reaction at all) was too distorted by time and by blood to be used by something as focussed as a wand.
"It's remarkable," Luna remarks, turning back to the camellia, "To imagine what you could do with a world of people like you."
Harry snorts, "Not very much, I'm afraid."
Luna's eyes are sad again when she turns back to them. She moves back over to where they stand, "I forget, sometimes… I saw the three of you appear- I knew you weren't from this world- you were all too strange- too different. Even the taste of you was off." She cups a cheek with a cold, soft hand. He swallows back the rush of unexpected emotions the contact brings, "And yet I still forget that you're of another world."
"Ca-can we ever go back?"
Luna leans forward and kisses his other cheek tenderly.
"Oh my dear. I don't know.
A nurse appears sometime later; hurrying down the path, huddled beneath a clear-plastic umbrella. She scowls as she catches sight of the three of them, standing beside the empty limbs of a birch tree. Hermione shares her own 'umbrella' (actually a transfigured bundle of sticks) with Luna- halfway through a tale of her travels with Rolf, before her sight became untenable- whilst Harry stands in the shelter of another.
"Goodness, Ms Lovegood," The woman huffs crossly in a thick Scottish accent, "It's freezing out here- you'll get a cold staying out in the rain." She glares reprovingly at Harry and Hermione, as if they were the ones who'd insisted on staying out in the cold (it wasn't of course, but Luna said the cold helped blow the weeds away).
The other woman hums, "I thought it was quite pleasant out actually, Beatrice." The nurse (whose name is most likely not Beatrice, but Harry can't see a name tag to tell) frowns harder.
"Be that as it may, it's tea time soon. And I'm sorry," She turns to Hermione, looking distinctly un-sorry, "But visiting hours are over."
Hermione nods good naturedly, "We're terribly sorry- we haven't seen Auntie Luna for a long time- we lost track of the time."
Beatrice looks up doubtfully at the sky- it has gotten quite dark over the last half hour, "Right. Well you'll just have to catch up with Ms Lovegood another day." She smiles then- strained, but not entirely unfriendly, "I'm sure it would be good for her to have a few more visitors."
Hermione nods, "Of course."
Luna tugs on Harry's arm as the nurse leads them back to the main building. Bruce is nowhere to be seen, but he's not worried, "I'll find you next time Harry," She murmurs to him, "It's easier."
He nods slowly, giving her a curious look, "Who are they? You do know them, right?"
She suppresses a broad grin, "They're my sort of people. Mutants." He starts at the whispered word and she squeezes his arm, "Charles and I have been friends a long time- before I ever found Rolf. It's been a standing offer for quite some time now. I thought it best to cash in."
"And they'll take care of you?"
She gives him an almost pitying smile, "Harry, dear. The best."
Beatrice allows them to say their goodbyes inside, though her body language speaks of her wanting to kick them out as soon as possible. Harry tries not to take it personally.
"I'll see you soon Hermione, I'm sure." Luna smiles at the witch, pulling her into a tight embrace. Hermione momentarily stiffens- the lines of her body pulling taught- and Harry catches their friend whispering something into her ear. He studies Hermione's face when the pair pull apart- she wears a broad smile, but he's known her long enough to catch the way its falsehood shows in her eyes. Whatever Luna's said has left his best friend troubled.
Luna moves to him and pulls him into a fierce hug. He squeezes her back, wishing for a moment that it was his Luna he was embracing. Luna sighs, and whispers, "Don't forget about those Termites, Harry. They'll eat the world whole if you let them."
She pulls back and he schools his face into something like Hermione's, "I'll keep it mind." He says, fighting to keep his voice level and happy. Luna huffs a laugh through her nose.
"We'll see." She bites her lip and turns away, nodding to Beatrice as she leaves. The nurse nods to them, and follows after her, leaving them alone.
Bruce is waiting for them in the reception, sitting in one of the chairs provided. It's dark outside the glass doors, and his hunched figure is cast in double by its reflection. He looks up when they enter and smiles.
"All good?"
Harry thinks on the question. He's not entirely sure what he'd expected- for her to be in danger? For her to have some kind of message for him? Whatever it was she wanted them for, the sense of urgency he'd felt that morning is gone. He nods to the scientist, "Yeah."
Bruce looks relieved, "Home then?" Hermione laughs, and moves to take the older man's arm in hers.
"Home sounds perfect."
So, I'm not a psych major... and whilst I didn't just pull the terms in reference to Luna's 'mental condition' out of my arse, and did research them, I'm aware that there are very likely errors in them, and some of them are perhaps not applicable to someone who'd be in the same position as Luna. Corrections are welcome, and I'd love to hear psychology talk from people (smart talk is the best talk), but be aware that I'm super crazy busy and may not have a chance to reply/change things right away.
Anyways, other than that, what did you think? Did you like her? Think she was in character? As always I adore reviews. :P
Don't forget you can always check me out on tumblr- username is the same as this one!
Don't know when the next update will be. Hopefully- HOPEFULLY in the next couple of weeks.
Until then, Ciao!
Cinna