They emerged simultaneously from the pensieve, both blushing wildly.
"Oh my god." His eyes were wide, his face flushed, his lips parted. He wondered whether it was possible to die from embarrassment. "Oh my god."
He couldn't breathe, and he couldn't move, and for an impossible stretch he couldn't pull his eyes away from the floor. Finally, he risked a glance.
She was biting her lip, smirking flirtatiously, as a flush of pink overtook her features. After a moment, her lips softly pursed, longingly parted, and she slowly exhaled. Unashamed, her eyes carefully traced the shape of him, gravitating toward his waist, and the tip of her tongue began tracing her lip.
Without shifting her attention, she whispered in an intimate purr.
"I rather like that one."
Were it possible, Harry turned a deeper shade of crimson.
At this, Luna giggled. "I'm guessing, Harry Potter, that you hadn't intended to submit yourself for inspection?"
Harry broke, reaching his arm behind his head to scratch his neck awkwardly. "Nope." He shook his head. "No. Hadn't really intended for you to see that."
She smirked playfully. "Excellent news. Teaching opportunities rarely come wrapped in such a…" She bit her lip, grinned mischievously. "...perfect package."
At this, they both blushed, and all the tension of the moment broke into contagious laughter.
In time, Luna gathered herself. "Okay. It's important to understand what diverted your attention. Let's explore the sequence."
She sat cross legged again within arm's reach of the suspended column of glass vials, and gestured for him to sit facing her. "Now that you've successfully demonstrated your ability to collect thoughts corresponding to your memories, we can make real progress. I'd like you to reflect carefully on the sequence of events leading up to the collection of your memory. Try to recall every thought that passed through your mind from the moment you whispered the incantation, to the moment you felt final release."
Harry nodded, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and summoned the memories. He found himself beginning to be drawn to the act of recollection , as if his mind were bent toward it, strengthening every moment. He reflected carefully on every thought, every emotion, each in turn. He rehearsed the sequence a half dozen times before whispering "memorare."
Again, he felt a release — pressure lifting slowly, relief building to a pinnacle until a pleasant absence took its place.
As he opened his eyes, she was grinning happily. "Despite the hiccup, Harry Potter, I think you're good at this." She leaned forward to kiss his forehead, stood, and pulled him to his feet.
"Shall we take a look?"
Luna sat before him, smiling kindly. "Perhaps it's best to collect your memory of the same series of events, from your perspective, given your renewed awareness of mine."
Harry nodded. He took the glass vial, feeling a bit nervous.
After a deep breath, he closed his eyes. He willed his mind to reflect slowly on the hope he felt that morning, to summon the relief that had overtaken him when he woke from a dreamless sleep. Step by step he walked through every stage of the morning's activities, marking mentally those thoughts he'd love to share, and refusing to allow the more private scenes from overtaking his awareness. After cycling through the chosen sequence of memories a dozen times, he held the tip of his wand to his temple and whispered, "memorare."
He felt, just then, a release. As if he were freed from a weight or pressure that he hadn't been aware of. This feeling sustained and built for nearly a minute as he somehow felt the memory lift. Just as he felt the relief begin to peak, he heard Luna's sharp intake of breath and for the briefest moment he felt an overwhelming desire to see her and be seen by her, to know her and to be totally and comprehensively known, to share himself fully.
Suddenly the stone handle of his wand warmed.
He shook off the notion, returned to the sequence he'd decided on, and suddenly in place of the release was a pleasant absence.
When he opened her eyes, Luna was watching him carefully, grinning with pride.
They stood together from the pensieve. Harry cast a curious glance at Luna.
"So what do you think?"
Her brow was furrowed in an expression of intense concentration. She stood there, unmoved, for at least three minutes. Harry watched her breathe, fully expecting a sage reflection on the nature of memory, or a prescriptive remedy for his waning and diverted attention.
Instead, she slowly inhaled and let out her breath in a befuddled huff. "Fascinating."
At this, without warning, she shifted into a meditative pose on the floor just beside the pensieve, closed her eyes, and began to slowly breathe. Harry watched, confused, until finally settling a few minutes later, cross legged before her.
He watched her brow furrow at least three times, saw her eyes darting beneath closed eyelids, and noticed with interest that occasionally her lips would part, and move as if in the whispers of a distant dream.
Finally, she drew her wand to her temple and whispered, "memorare".
The whisp of silver mist that she pulled from her temple was notably shorter than the last memory she'd collected, but also denser, fuller, and perhaps a darker shade.
She opened her eyes, reached out her hand to collect another glass vial, deposited the memory, and spoke.
"Harry, I need to show you something."
Luna sat before him, smiling kindly. "Perhaps it's best to collect your memory of the same series of events, from your perspective, given your renewed awareness of mine."
He nodded, and she thought she could see apprehension in his eyes as he took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, and she shifted her gaze to his lips. He was breathing slowly, carefully. That was good. She shifted her attention to his eyes. They were flitting about underneath his eyelids. She smiled. He's a natural. She wondered what memories he'd show to her, what memories he'd keep.
After a moment, his expression shifted to one of patient determination, and she supposed he was running through the sequence of memories he'd decided to collect. It didn't surprise her; she'd notice a pattern in Harry. He was an extraordinary wizard — not only because he was naturally powerful, but because he was determined to practice, again and again, until his execution was absolutely perfect.
Suddenly he stilled, drew his wand to his temple, and whispered, "memorare."
A thrill shot through her, a sharp intake of breath, and she fought every impulse to cheer as she noticed a whisp of silver thread. God, he was perfect. On his first attempt, he'd successfully collected a memory.
She wondered whether he'd show it to her. Perhaps she'd be given a glimpse of his perspective, his thoughts, his hopes and fears. Perhaps in a moment she'd know him that much more intimately.
Suddenly she was overcome by an overwhelming desire to see him, and to be seen by him. To fully and comprehensively know him, and to be known by him. She longed for him to share himself fully.
She waited as he slowly pulled the wand away, watching him carefully and grinning with pride.
Harry stood from the pensieve shaken, casting wide eyes at Luna, whose expression carried something of dumbstruck fascination.
"But, how did—" He began to speak, but Luna interrupted.
"I've no idea."
He shook his head. "We were, I mean…just precisely the same thing… we were thinking—"
Luna nodded. "Thinking, perhaps. Or rather feeling. Precisely the same emotion, an overwhelming, powerful impression. Without words exchanged, without spells cast."
She paused. Her gaze, which had been set in the distance, shifted to his. She rested her piercing eyes on him and for a moment only breathed. "Harry, I know you're not fully aware of every dimension of the magical community, and occasionally aspects that those of us who weren't raised by muggles have grown accustomed to occasionally take you by surprise. You need to know, though, that this isn't one of those. What just happened is either a coincidence of startling proportions, or a magical event of striking significance."
She paused, considering, and suddenly her eyes shot wide. "I know of a way to look closer."
Her tone shifted, distant and melodic. "My father and I developed a technique that I think may help. After my mother passed, we discovered a way to layer memories. The notion is fairly simple, though the execution is more complex. The idea is to collect two memories from two individuals experiencing exactly the same moment. We found a way, with a spell we crafted together, to stack memory upon memory in such a way that multiple perspectives can be preserved simultaneously. Executed perfectly, the magic allows a memory to be experienced alongside a concert of thoughts, emotions, sensations, from a variety of perspectives. The nimble witch or wizard could then navigate these perspectives carefully to come to a fuller understanding, or appreciation, of the significance of an event."
She reached out to the column of floating glass vials. Suddenly a vial emerged carrying, Harry supposed, the memory he'd just extracted. She turned, poured it slowly into the pensieve together with hers, closed her eyes, and whispered, "strata memoriae."
He closed his eyes. He willed his mind to reflect slowly on the hope he felt, the relief that had overtaken him. Step by step he marked the memories he'd share, those he'd keep to himself.
She watched him breathe slowly, carefully. That was good. She shifted her attention to his eyes. They were flitting about underneath his eyelids. She smiled. He's a natural, she thought.
He cycled through the chosen sequence of memories a dozen times, held the tip of his wand to his temple and whispered, "memorare."
A thrill shot through her, a sharp intake of breath, and she fought every impulse to cheer as she noticed a whisp of silver thread. God, he was perfect. On his first attempt, he'd successfully collected a memory.
Just as he felt the relief begin to peak, he heard Luna's sharp intake of breath.
Suddenly they were overcome by an overwhelming desire to see and be seen. To fully and comprehensively know, and be known. She longed for him to share himself with her, and he longed to share himself with her.
He felt the stone handle of his wand warm.
He shook off the notion, returning his attention to the sequence of events.
She waited, and when he opened her eyes, she was grinning with pride.
They tore themselves away from the pensieve, overwhelmed by a rush of thoughts.
"The same time," Harry spoke rapidly, stumbling over himself. "It was at exactly the same time."
Luna nodded, eyes wide, reflecting. "At precisely the same moment, with seemingly no explanation, we were both overwhelmed by precisely the same notion — a cognitive and emotional impression that dramatically altered a significant series of events and, you might argue…" She hesitated, a rush of pink coloring her chest. "...shifted aggressively a key dimension of our relationship."
Harry nodded. "I know."
Luna's wide eyes darted in a flurry of ideas. "Harry Potter, I need to see more of your memories. Something recent, with as much detail as possible. Perhaps last night, on the threshold?"
He agreed, and they returned to face one another, cross legged on the floor near the pensieve. She reached out her arm as the column gravitated nearby, and handed Harry an empty vial.
The room stilled as they slowed their breathing, summoning all of their mental faculties. After at least six minutes, they each held a gently flowing silver thread in a glass vial before them.
They stood, and she turned toward him.
"Are you ready, Harry Potter?"
A moment later, after slowly pouring both memories into the pensieve, she closed her eyes and whispered, "strata memoriae."
They were finally alone, and he couldn't be happier. "Hi."
"Hello." Her heart raced. God, he was perfect.
He pulled her closer with his right hand, pressing against her hip with his left hand.
She'd twisted and her lean form fell gently against the door frame.
He drew nearer, drawing a deep breath laced with the scent of lavender. "Something's just occurred to me."
She bit her lip, threaded the index finger of her right hand through a nearby belt loop, and pulled his waist against hers. "Tell me, darling." A shiver ran up her spine, and she was sure she'd never been this happy.
He leaned his forehead against hers, their eyes inches apart. God, she was beautiful. "This home is invisible to nearly everyone in the universe."
She lifted her chin, drawing her lips so close she could feel his breath. "I see."
He drew nearer still, his lips a hair's breadth from her right ear. "Inaudible, as well."
She felt the teasing warmth of his whispers, and she trembled. "Is that so?"
He nodded, and briefly his lips wrapped around her earlobe.
With a sharp intake of breath she pressed her chest into his.
He dragged his lips from just below her ear to the soft slope of her shoulder, playfully biting at building intervals.
She closed her eyes, and the slightest whimper escaped her lips. Sexiest man alive. After a moment, she whispered. "Interesting."
His tongue found her ear.
A warmth, a tension, pulsed through her body, building between her thighs. She bit her lip, and with bated breath fought for control. A moment later, she managed the words, "And if one were to find oneself pressed against a threshold, fighting desperately for composure against overwhelming pleasure?"
He paused, lifted his eyes and set his attention full upon her parted lips. Stunning. He was absolutely taken with her, and she was perfect. "No need for composure."
He kissed her, pressing his lips gently, softly into hers, carefully tracing the swell of her bottom lip with the slow drag of his tongue, inhaling her longing sigh and gripping her hip passionately. Please, Luna. Yes. Luna, more.
She wrapped her right hand around his back, dug her nails into his shoulders, and pressed full against him. Yes. More, Harry. Just like that. Please don't stop.
In time, their chests were moving in rhythm, their bodies shifting with building urgency. She pulled away, and her fingers dug into his chest as he gasped. Take me away, Harry. Take me to your couch. Take me to your bed.
His palm was searching, pressed full against her torso, against her hip, against her right thigh, suddenly wrapped around her, exploring the tight swell of her bottom. Yes, Luna. God, you're so beautiful. I want you, darling. Right now.
Again she pressed into him, and she longed for more, and she felt him hard against her, and she longed for more.
He pulled her near, and he longed for more, and he felt her every shift against his building tension, and he longed for more.
Suddenly they were overcome by an overwhelming desire to protect what they've been given; to patiently discover, fighting compromise at every step, driven by the hope of flesh and spirit finally wed, pressing back the darkness as allies forever.
Suddenly they both hesitated.
He caught her gaze, and he fought every inclination to ask her to stay. "Luna Lovegood, you're incredible."
She blushed, and fought every inclination to ask to stay. "Yeah?"
He smiled, fighting disappointment and yet overwhelmed with hope. "Yeah. And I should really walk you home."
She sighed, fighting disappointment and yet overwhelmed with affection. "Yeah." She lifted her full eyes to his and nodded. "I know."