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OotP: A Terrible Weight Lessened

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Harry & Luna grownup by flying_tunafish

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WIt Beyond Measure by Lady Aeryn

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Off the Record, by Ladyknyght. Harry finds Luna's not one to kiss and tell...

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(in)sanely connected: the harry & luna fanlisting

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"People expect you to have cooler friends than us," said Luna, once again displaying her knack for embarrassing honesty. "You are cool," said Harry shortly. "None of them was at the Ministry. They didn't fight with me." "That's a very nice thing to say," beamed Luna. --Half-Blood Prince

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FAN FICTION                                                                                                                          

Flights of Fancy
by Goldy

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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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Luna’s hair blows over her shoulders and back as she crouches, setting down the bouquet of roses with concentration. Her hands linger for a moment on the stems, her chin rising slightly so her eyes cut across the name on the tombstone.

She rises without speaking, taking a step back to stand by Harry’s side.

Together they leave the graveyard, their footsteps loud in the silence of the dead. He can hear the hum of bees and the dull whir of traffic from the highway ahead.

“What was she like?”

Luna waits a moment before answering. “It’s difficult to tell sometimes. When you go for a long time without seeing someone, you begin to wonder what is true and what is your own imagination.” She looks thoughtful. “She had long blonde hair, you know, quite a lot like mine. She and Father sometimes had a terrible time of it. She always thought his snorkacks and nargles were silly or flights of fancy and the like.”

He chuckles. “People are strange that way.”

“Oh, yes, everyone is strange. It’s what makes us different. It would be terrible, you see, if we were all the same.”

Harry thinks of how Voldemort molded his Death Eater’s to be a kind of perfect organization of wizards. He shivers.

“Yeah.”

As they leave the graveyard, they join hands. Luna’s hand is warm in his own, and soft, always soft.

It is funny that such a mundane thing—visiting the graves of their dead parents—can bring them so close together.

“You took her out to a cemetery for your first date?” Ron had demanded. “Are you mental?”

“You don’t understand,” he said. “There are things that Luna and I… you know, it’s… never mind.”

He even ignored Hermione’s “how-could-you-accuse-me-of-not-understanding” look.

The problem is, he can’t explain why this ritual is so comforting for them. Maybe because it’s theirs. Maybe because he finds a peace in her tranquility. Maybe there are one hundred little reasons he can never pinpoint.

“Did you remember to feed Pookey before leaving?”

“Yes.”

“You did remember to give him fresh water, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“He is so sensitive, Harry. You shouldn’t think it’s funny.”

“I don’t think it’s funny. I just… I…” he shrugs. “You amaze me. That’s all.”

And that isn’t all because he honestly can’t believe she’s so worried about whether or not Pookey’s bloody water dish has been changed, but that’s Luna—Luna who cares about everyone and everything, and he can’t possibly fault her for that.

She beams at him, flushing at his compliment, and he’s amazed by that too. He tells her so and she laughs, tugging on his hand and bouncing and it’s wonderful that they can be this way, even with a graveyard behind them.

“Grief is important,” she once said. “But we must never forget that to properly honor the dead, we must keep living.”

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