Disclaimer: I have an ominous line in this one, and though I do have more shit happening, the war is about to go down, after all, BUT Harry and Luna are not doomed.

Chapter 15 - Full Moon

Remus could not remember a better full moon.

Neither Sirius nor James allowed Remus to pass up taking the wolfbane's potion, paying for it themselves.

Sirius saying he was using Death Eater funds didn't really make him feel better about the charity. But dancing through the night with Prongs and Padfoot?

Sirius nipping at his heels and James tussling Remus around with delicate grace, it was…

It was freedom.

His inner wolf was happier than it had ever been and for the first time in his life, something impossible happened.

His lycan part man and mostly monster form, morphed into something far more natural. He was still oversized, his paws more catlike than canine.

But he lost his human shape completely to that of the animal's and the pain lifted from his bones as the moon sang to his blood as opposed to summoning it outside of his body.

For once, shedding his human form felt like a relief and being home with his pack, he allowed himself hope.

He allowed himself this small happiness and let go of the guilt for being what he was.

He had not chosen this life, but his friends had chosen him.

And he wouldn't trade either Sirius or James for his humanity.

He supposed some curses were like that, something inexplicably awful that brought with it the most unexpected joys and the perspective to value what time you had.

oOo

Harry wasn't able to sleep that night, his scar was burning even as he did his best to tune out Voldemort.

He looked up when the door opened to the joint lounge of the Head Boy and Head Girl room.

"You were out late tonight," Harry remarked, noting that her hair was damp.

She winced, turning away from him.

"Luna," he asked, straightening in his seat. "What's wrong?"

"It doesn't matter," she tried to brush him off.

"You're upset, it matters," he said, tempering down his own disappointment.

Luna was always there for him, but she rarely let him return the favour.

"I was practicing," she said, coming closer without looking. "With the snow and dew."

He tilted his head to the side, "What's wrong with that?"

"I don't want to become my mother," she said, voice lowering.

"Luna," he chided.

She plopped into a seat beside him, "I promised my father I wouldn't be like her.

"I don't think your mother was a bad person," he said. "She just went a little too far."

Luna fidgeted, "She was addicted to magic.

"I couldn't give up magic," he said casually, knowing her relationship with her mother was different than his own because Luna still remembered hers, knew her mother as a person in a way he never would. "And I'm told giving up on magic is another really unfun way to die, so that's not a safe either."

She sighed, "Loving magic and being addicted to it is different."

"How?"

She gave him a slightly annoyed look, "I don't know that I could stop myself from going too far."

"So?" he asked.

"So!?" she exclaimed. "Harry, I could die."

I don't want you to die, but death is inevitable and random. My mom didn't live as long as yours. I grew up thinking my parents died in a random car crash. I got Cedric killed playing a stupid game and I got Sirius killed by trying to save him. Don't stop being who you are because you're afraid of the only certainty in the world."

She caught his hand in hers as she said, "It's wrong of me though. I promised my father—"

"Luna, learning elemental magic is not the same thing as inventing spells and experimenting with potions. I won't say it's safe, but the wizarding world isn't safe in general. "

She shook her head, her silver-gold hair spilling forward over her shoulders, "I should be here for you. I want to protect you and getting addicted to power is not—"

He squeezed her hand. "I love that you care about me but that's not what I want from you, Luna."

"Then what do you want from me, Harry?"

His heart was racing. He swallowed, holding his gaze on hers as he said, "I want you, Luna."

"Want me how?" she challenged.

He looked down at their hands for a moment, turning them over so their fingers were interlaced before meeting her unfalting blue eyes.

He felt bare beneath her luminous gaze. But for once, he wasn't afraid of what she might think or feel ashamed for who he was and who he wasn't.

He was Harry Potter.

The survivor.

The boy who barely survived his Uncle and Aunt's random aggression and unrelenting destain.

The boy who ran away from bullies because he wasn't strong enough to fight.

A wizard who hadn't tried as hard as he might because he was afraid of what his friends might think of him.

A wizard who when he did try, more often than not mucked it and put others in harm.

A wizard who was trying to be better than he was in no small part because of the witch sitting beside him.

Luna saw all of it. Knew him better than he knew himself.

Saw all of who he might have been, had failed to be, and what he really was.

He was a shattered window that she somehow still saw worth in.

He knew he didn't truly understand her as well as that. He couldn't see the world as she did. She saw so much more than a normal person, the good, the bad, and the unseen.

Yet she was like him in so many ways.

There were no words to describe her no more than there were words to describe the complexity of his own life. He was still just Harry.

And she was just Luna.

Just a boy and a girl.

And he had been falling for her for longer than he had realized.

"I want to be in love with you, Luna Lovegood," he said, the words not quite expressing his meaning.

"And are you?" she asked, unwavering. "Are you in love with me, Harry Potter?"

Be brave, he told himself.

"I am," he answered. "I love you, Luna."

Her smile was transformative and she raised her other hand to his cheek, then to his neck, leading him forward with a warm touch.

His eyes fluttered shut as she whispered back, "I love you, too, Harry."

She kissed him.

There were no tears or awkward fumbling.

Luna seemed to know what she wanted from a kiss, gentle but explorative.

Harry was all to happy follow, his skin feeling positively electrified with the giddiness and acceleration of having his feelings returned by such kind-hearted person.

He wanted to live for her, he wanted to try for her, he wanted to be the person she deserved.

And by some miracle, or perhaps fairy dust, she was giving him that chance.

As she leaned into his chest, he had a very hard time remembering that he wasn't the luckiest person.

But perhaps, just maybe, the scales were balancing out a bit.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, fire-fighting goats (real thing), or feedback, pretty please?