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Harry found her with the Thestrals.
He wasn't sure why he felt surprise when he saw her standing there in the grass, or what's left of it anyway, stroking a small hand down one of the mighty animals' long faces. He'd gone looking for her himself and when he'd seen the Thestrals overhead converge over one area by the lake, he'd followed them without thinking. He knew he'd find her here, somehow. Harry's just not quite sure why he came to find her in the first place. To make sure she was fine maybe. As fine as anyone could be after today, at least. He'd left Ron with his grieving family and he'd left Hermione with a grieving Ron. He'd seen Neville around and a few other faces he knew by name and suddenly he'd just... left.
And gone to find Luna.
"Hello, Harry," she said. Her voice was still airy and light the way it had been before... all of this, and it made him halt him for a moment. She had always seemed so far removed from everything that plagued him that he had tended to forget that she was, in fact, not oblivious to the more earthly struggles going on around her. When he'd seen her in that dungeon... it had tied her down into the dirt and grind of the war he'd been born into so firmly he'd thought he'd never look at her the same way again. Seeing her here now, calming animals that most people thought of as beasts or ill omens, the way she always had and, a sneaking suspicion told him, probably always would, was jarring.
"Hi," he said, voice croaky and rough. For a moment he worried he'd startle the thestrals, but they paid him no mind.
She smiled at him over her shoulder, dirty and radiant.
He didn't know how to converge those two images of her. She was rooted solidly to the ground and yet he still in some corner of his mind expected her to float off any second. It was something he struggled with, he knew that. He put people in boxes and when they stepped outside of those he didn't know what to do. Ron was his best friend; loyal to a fault and always at Harry's back. Hermione was the closest thing he could imagine to a sister and his voice of reason; he wanted to strangle her half the time, was mad at her for being right the rest and loved her fiercely and protectively through all of it. Neville had turned from a sweet but useless boy to a great friend and ally. Ginny had been Ron's Little sister and was now the girl to whom he was fairly certain he was going to end up married. Those changes were fine. They simply moved from one box to the next.
Luna refused to be boxed. Or stood in however many boxes she pleased.
Luna was sweet and compassionate and strong and wild and soft and sharp and everything that Harry thought worthy of protection in the world. Luna was an ideal. Luna was a person. Luna was untouchable and there was grease and dirt stuck in her hair and blood caked on her skin. Luna was removed from everything and in the thick of it.
"A lot more people are going to be able to see them after today," Luna said, like she was commenting on the weather.
Harry choked on air and let his knees give way, falling down onto the soft grass. The fact that this was it, the war was over and won, kept running through his mind on a loop but in the calm devastation after the storm it all seemed to high a price to have been paid. He should have done something differently. He should have figured out the horcruxes sooner. Dumbledore should have done more, trusted him with more, expected more.
"I keep thinking how sad that is, how many people are suffering. But isn't it also a chance to change how these animals are misrepresented? Isn't it wonderful that through our suffering we might find a way to grow together and learn?" Luna said, back still turned to Harry.
Harry wasn't sure if she was actually talking about the thestrals or had meant to speak in metaphors. Either way he felt hot tears roll down over his cheeks, unable and unwilling to stop them.
Luna turned then, studied him and walked over unhurriedly to sit by his side. She took one of his hands in hers gently, threading their fingers together.
"Crying's good for the soul," she said and, after a moment, dug something out of her pocket.
"But so is chocolate," she said and held a perfectly pristine bar of chocolate out to him.
This time it was a laugh he choked on, even through his tears. He took the chocolate bar and tried not to think about the baby left parentless and, legally, in his care.
"I love you," he said.
"Oh, and I love you, Harry. Of course I do," she said and turned his face towards her with a gentle hand, pressing their lips together in a kiss so light, Harry hardly felt her lips touch his. And yet he knew the memory would stay with him until his last breath.
This time, when she pulled away, his laugh came more freely.
There were still things to have faith in, in the world. There was still love. There was still hope.
He would find a little more courage and continue.