CW: Blood

He'd almost forgotten about Friday night. Then there was a click as Ginny locked their bedroom door, and he remembered. He'd put it off for months. He was injured. He was recovering. He was still weak.

The excuses ran out.

He sat on the side of the bed as Ginny slid under their blanket. There was a soft plop as she pushed her robes onto the floor. A two lighter plops as her bra and underwear followed.

Harry undressed standing. The advantage of wizard robes was they were easy to take off. Unbutton the front, slip off your underwear, and you were done. He got under the covers, searching through the cold sheets for his wife's warm body. Wordlessly, he climbed on top.

Nothing.

She kissed him. Nothing.

He closed his eyes, trying to think of something sexy: one of the lovelier doctors at St. Mungos, the time he kissed Cho, the first time he'd been intimate with Ginny.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

"I'm going to need a moment," he said, dropping to his side.

Ginny was silent as usual. She turned on her side to face him then reached out and began stroking him. Her hands were cold, but it worked. He closed his eyes again; this time it was easier to think sexy thoughts. He imagined taking Ginny to work and having her beneath his desk.

"There's a job opening at Hogwarts," she said.

Harry's eyes sprung open. His wife stared at him blandly, her hand still moving beneath the covers.

"What?"

"They're looking for a new defense against the dark arts professor," she said. "Morgan's retiring."

"Why are you bringing this up now?" he said.

"I was just thinking you should quit being an auror. It's dangerous. Besides, you're perfect for the job. The job isn't cursed any more, thanks to you. You trained Dumbledore's Army, so you know how to teach. And you love Hogwarts."

"I mean, why are you bringing this up now?" he said, pushing her hand away.

"Oh! Sorry." She blushed a little.

Ginny never understood the difference between sexy and unsexy talk. In bed, she'd describe sexual fantasies and then suddenly move on to what they'd had for dinner. When the kids were little, she'd even bring up toilet training. He'd asked her to stop, and she'd tried, but she still tended to spout whatever was on her mind when they were intimate.

"Did you pick Ginny, then?" a girl's voice said behind him.

He winced, forcing himself to ignore it. Since he'd first heard the voice in the hospital, it had become clearer, stronger. He knew it was a lost memory, one of those bits of his past trying to come back. Usually, there'd be a voice, followed by a flash of memory.

Most of the time, he felt relief in having his past returned. However, this voice scared him, and he wasn't sure why. He found himself suppressing it, mentally shying away. Even so, the voice became clearer, more insistent, the longer he fought.

"What would you like me to do?" Ginny said, drawing Harry's attention back to her.

There were a dozen things he wanted, but he'd never felt comfortable asking. Early on in their relationship, she'd made clear what was off limits in bed. He respected that, but it frustrated him sometimes.

"Just let me touch you," he said.

She turned to lay on her back. He warmed his hands on his chest, then slid his fingertips over her body. She winced a little – she was ticklish – but calmed down as he touched her more firmly. He cupped her left breast, squeezing, and she leaned forward to kiss him.

And the memory he'd been fighting came crashing back.

He walked though the hallways of Hogwarts holding a stack of parchment posters. His hands were smoother, softer, and less scarred than he was used to. Harry was a student again.

He paused at a notice board and pinned up one of the posters. It was a list of missing items: socks, hats, quills. Underneath was a request that they be returned to Luna Lovegood in Ravenclaw tower.

Luna stood by his side, talking. He glanced over at her for a moment, taking in her blue eyes and waist-length, dirty blonde hair. He realized, not for the first time, she was quite pretty. A shame she was so strange.

"I mean," she was saying, "have you ever really looked at the ceiling of the Great Hall?"

She'd been babbling cheerfully about all her various conspiracy theories as they roamed the hallways together. Often, he glazed over when she talked, which seemed to be fine with her. She mostly just liked someone to listen. This time she seemed to want his participation.

"What?" he said.

She sighed and repeated herself. "Have you ever looked at the ceiling of the Great Hall?"

He had, of course. It wasn't easy to see, most of the time. The view was obscured by the bottoms of dozens of floating candles. Still, he must have seen it at least a million times.

"Yeah," he said. "It's enchanted to look like the sky outside."

"But it isn't, you know," she said, stopping to pin up a poster.

"It's not what?"

"It's not really an enchanted ceiling! You honestly think they could maintain a complex enchantment like that for a thousand years? And just to make it do what a window does?"

He didn't have an answer to that. "You're saying the ceiling is a window?"

"No, of course not," she said, continuing on down the hallway. "I'm saying there is no ceiling."

He stopped for a moment. "What?"

"Open your eyes, Harry! The contractors probably were behind schedule when they built the school. Instead of making a roof, they just put some anti-weather charms up and told everyone the ceiling was magic."

She smiled at him as if proud of her own genius. Harry was about argue, to point out he'd seen the roof of the Great Hall from his broom and it looked like tile, but the door to Professor Binns's classroom suddenly opened. A dozen students rushed out, interrupting his chain of thought. On seeing Harry and Luna, several students whispered to each other and laughed. Luna stiffened, looking pointedly down the hallway as they continued on.

Harry looked down at the posters again. She had to put them up every year because people hid her things as a mean prank. She was an easy target. Most of the school thought she was a weirdo who spouted bizarre myths and conspiracies.

The words tumbled out before he could stop them. "Have you ever thought of keeping these ideas to yourself?"

She said nothing but jumped a little as if he'd hit her. He immediately felt guilty.

"I'm just saying your stories are a little off-putting," he said, stammering a little, hoping to undo the damage he'd just done. "Maybe people would be friendlier if you didn't say them out loud."

"I have a lot of silly ideas," she said after a moment. "I guess I get them from my father."

They walked in silence for a moment.

"He had this one idea… He figured it would help me do well in school if he held me back a year. Something about excelling in classes if I had a head start. So, he homeschooled me for a year."

Harry thought about Luna learning about blimpies and nargles and bicorns and whatever nonsense her father believed. Then he realized how awful it would have been if the Dursleys had decided to homeschool him. Aunt Petunia would have had him studying what the best floor polish was. Uncle Vernon would have tested him on the parts of a drill.

"You're my age?" Harry said.

She nodded. "I don't know if he was right. I mean, I am in Ravenclaw. School comes easy. But I went through a growth spurt that year I was at home. When I finally got here, I was half a foot taller than everyone else in my class. Nobody wanted to talk to me. Nobody even wanted to stand near me."

She looked at him. "It doesn't matter what I say. Everyone always thought I was weird."

"Luna, I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling terrible. "I didn't-"

"Did you pick Ginny, then?" Luna said, cutting his apology off.

"What?"

"I saw you kissing Ginny," Luna said.

Harry flushed a little and looked away, pretending he didn't hear. Luna didn't fall for it.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

He shrugged. "I guess."

Luna paused to put a poster by the second floor charms classroom, tapping the corners of the page with her wand so it stuck to the wall.

"Are you gay, Harry?"

He snorted. "What? You saw me kiss Ginny."

"Yes. I've been thinking about that, and it doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?"

"Why you'd pick her."

"I mean, I didn't pick her. We sort of picked each other."

She sighed like he was deliberately missing the point. "What is it you like about her?"

"I love her."

"Yes, but what do you love about her?"

"I don't know. I mean, she's pretty."

"Parvati Patil is the prettiest girl in school, but you ignored her at the Yule Ball. She was your date, but you spent all your time with Ron."

He fought the urge to be defensive, to say he'd been having a bad night. "Okay, but Ginny and I have a lot of experiences in common. We were in the DA together. We fought Voldemort together."

Luna didn't flinch at the name. She just serenely handed a page to a passing first-year. "Then why didn't you pick Hermione?"

"I don't know. I just don't fancy her."

"Do you think she's ugly?"

He clenched his jaw, feeling the defensiveness rise again. "No, of course not. I just don't feel that way about her."

Luna laughed, her voice echoing down the stone hallway. "Harry, you're a 16 year-old boy. You're 90% hormones. If there's a girl you like and think is pretty, you should be at least a little interested. Unless you're into boys."

"I'm not gay!" he said too loud, and several people turned to stare.

He stalked off. She hurried to keep up.

"Then why Ginny? She's not smart like Hermione. She's not good at quidditch like Cho. She's not rich like Romilda Vane. She's not really anything. She doesn't tell jokes. She doesn't fight for causes. She doesn't excel at any classes."

He knew she was just getting back at him for his comment about her talking too much, but her words were getting under his skin.

Why did he like Ginny, anyway? Was it because of how she looked at him when they first met at the Burrow? Did they form a bond when he saved her in the Chamber of Secrets? Was it just because she'd adored him before they'd even met? Maybe it was because she was a Weasley, the people he wanted to be his family.

He didn't like where these thoughts were taking him. He didn't like what they said about him.

"The only thing I can think of is that she looks like Ron," Luna said. "You really want him, but don't want to admit you're queer, so you picked his sister. It's okay, you know. Even Dumbledore is gay. There's nothing wrong with it."

"I'm not gay," he lowered his voice to a growl as the students passed them. "It's just… Cho wanted Cedric. Hermione has a thing for Ron. Parvati and Romilda want 'the Chosen One.' Only Ginny wants me. Nobody else is attracted to me."

"Oh, Harry," she quirked a smile at him. "You're so blind. Half the girls in this school get wet when you glance at them."

He blinked, confused. As group of students passed by, and he stopped to make eye contact with the girls. One smiled back. One tensed quickly and looked away. One bit her lower lip. He caught up to Luna who was heading to the astronomy tower.

"No, they don't," he said.

"They don't what?"

"Girls don't get sweaty when I look at them."

"Sweaty?" she said, confused.

"You said they get wet when I—"

Then she did something he'd never seen her do before. She laughed. It started as a strange titter and then became a full-blown guffaw. She leaned against a wall to keep from doubling over. Finally, she gasped to a stop. "Harry, don't you know how girls work?"

"Of course I do!" Harry said.

His mind whirled, though, realizing he didn't know what she meant. He'd seen women doing jobs. Selling candy. Teaching classes. Had she meant traditional feminine roles around the house, like Mrs. Weasely and Aunt Petunia?

"Come on, Harry," Luna said, taking him by the arm and leading him to the top of the astronomy tower. "I'm going to show you something."

They climbed up through the trap door and found themselves in the empty air. The top of the tower looked strange in the daytime. The telescopes he was used to had been packed away somewhere, leaving nothing but their stands and a circle of soft benches where students would sit and listen to lectures.

A pair of third-years were on one of those benches, snogging. They jumped up, alert, as Luna marched over to them.

"Don't you know these benches are cursed? They're made from panchto fur. In the daytime, they attract evil spirits. You can't be here."

The third-years, confused but not wanting to challenge an older student, hurried away. Harry muttered apologies to them as they passed and watched them disappear down the trapdoor. It slammed shut with an embarrassed thunk.

When he turned back, Luna was bending over, pulling off white undies. He stared, wide-eyed, as she hiked up her robes.

Harry had never seen a naked girl before. There was nowhere he could have seen one. He left muggle school before they had sex ed classes. He'd never had any interest in Dudley's computer. Any dirty magazines he might have seen were locked in Uncle Vernon's bedside table, and he'd never go near that bedroom. Then he went to Hogwarts, where (at the behest of parents) hundreds of spells cast by dozens of headmasters and headmistresses over the centuries kept pornography out of inquisitive hands.

So, he was completely overwhelmed by what he saw. Her body ended. It just… ended below a triangle of golden fur. Luna was talking, but he couldn't understand anything she said. He just stared and, without realizing what he was doing, he reached out towards it.

"And then you put your thing in there," Luna said.

He stopped, pulling his hand back. "My what?"

"Oh, it's okay. You can touch it," she said. She grabbed his hand, guiding it between her legs. "Do you feel that?"

He did. Down there between her legs she was furry, then soft, then hot, then wet. She leaned into him as he touched her, and he was struck by how strange it was that Hogwarts only taught magic. There were no English classes, no languages of any kind. There were no classes in the arts or philosophy or maths.

In that moment, he keenly missed having a music class because Luna was like a stringed instrument. She was taut and vibrated at his touch. As he explored her, she made noises almost like a lute. He found he could make her voice go up or down, become loud or soft, all by how he moved his fingers, where he put them, how deep in he went.

Then she clenched and, afraid he'd hurt her, he tried to pull away. But she clung to his arm, not letting him go. She bit into his shoulder, and he could feel her breath, hot and moist, seeping through his robes. She let out a scream his shoulder barely muffled and went slack.

She was sweaty and trembling, her face wet and flushed. She smiled and leaned up to kiss him, her hands reaching under his robes where he'd reached under hers.

He wondered if Ginny wanted that from him. They'd kissed, but she'd never asked for anything more. Was she secretly needing this? At the thought of her, he pulled back. This was wrong. He felt dirty.

Luna's hands and lips fell away.

"Oh," she said, quietly, lowering her face.

She turned her back to him and quietly went to get her underwear.

And the memory finished, slotting into place with the rest of his past. He shook his head as he left Hogwarts and returned to the present. He was in bed with his wife, so many years later. He let out a sigh of relief knowing he wouldn't hear the voice anymore. No one asking if he'd picked Ginny. He had picked her. She was in bed with him.

Well, she was sitting on the edge of the bed. He must have lost time when he relived his memory. She was dressed now, her back to him.

"Ginny," he said, "I'm sorry. I had another flashback. Are you okay?" When she spoke, her voice was small, strained, almost alien.

"I think," she said, and coughed into her hand. "I think I need a doctor."

She turned to face him. A long streak of blood ran from her nose and mouth down her front. It pooled in her lap and dribbled on to the floor. Her eyes brimmed with red tears. She tried to say something more, but the words came out as a red gurgle.

"I know a clarity spell," the voice, Luna's voice, said behind him. It followed him as he rushed out of his house to get help.