There, in that long closet, enclosed by ancient cloth, Luna became the whole world to Harry. Everything became dark around him, and she was the light ahead. He gaped at her, watching her on top of the table, as she opened her robes.
She'd somehow removed her bra. When had she done that? Had she ever worn one? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except for her naked body, the small, perfect breasts gleaming before him.
His mind reeled with chaos. He wasn't supposed to be there. He was supposed to be out in the Forbidden Forest. There was a time limit. So many were dead. And Ginny. They were a couple, meant to be together. He'd betrayed her once before, on the astronomy tower with Luna, he couldn't do that again. It was wrong. It didn't matter. He had to die. Didn't he have to die? Dumbledore said so. Snape's memories of Dumbledore said so. Could those memories be corrupted like Slughorn's were? He had to die. He had to die soon.
Luna slid her underwear to the floor, and the chaos deepened.
His heart beat loudly. Each pulse was a loud thrum in his ears. Each pulse made his vision shake. The only stability was the person ahead of him. Luna practically glowed.
He could barely see her. She was a whirl of colors. Sapphire eyes. Ivory skin. Gold hair. Coral... She was pink in all those ways feminine, and he couldn't draw his eyes anywhere else.
Was this the spell? He'd learned all sorts of wand movements and potions and words. None of them required a change of clothing. Certainly, some of the work done with herbs and creatures needed to be done with protective gear. But a spell? A clarity spell? That made no sense.
He opened his mouth to ask, and she leaned forward. She kissed him, like she had tried once, and this time he kissed her back. Her mouth was hot.
She reached under his robes and touched him, and this time he let her. Her fingers were cold.
Luna pulled him in. He shuddered at the sudden warmth.
And he wasn't scared. He wasn't angry. He wasn't tired. He simply was.
With a sluggish difficulty, a thought broke through. Wasn't he supposed to do more? There was something, surely. He should kiss her or touch her or say something. He knew next to nothing about sex, but he'd heard about foreplay in whispered snatches of conversation over the years. He had to go slowly, or she wouldn't enjoy it.
His body resisted, but he fought the urge to continue. With great effort, he slowed. It was like putting his hands in the gears of a powerful machine.
Luna wrapped her legs around him. She pulled his head to hers and moaned into his ear.
"Yes," she said over and over. "Yes, Harry."
He stopped fighting himself. A moment later, it was over.
He thought there was supposed to be pleasure, but all he noticed was the pain. He felt like an overfilled balloon that someone opened up. There was a painful rush. Then he was empty. He was empty, limp and worn into a weak shape.
But there was peace. His mind was blank. All the months of danger and deprivation in the wilderness were gone. He wasn't starving. He wasn't terrified.
He simply was.
And into that clarity, Luna spoke the words of the spell into his ear.