Chapter Text
Luna had light blonde hair, so pale it’s almost white. Her features were soft, and her eyes are different colors, and change depending on her mood. A light smattering of freckles were on her cheeks and nose that you don't notice until you are close enough to kiss her (or do your classwork together, but Ginny didn't dwell on that.)
Luna was a true Ravenclaw: inquisitive, creative, always looking to the world with curiosity. She was the most imaginative person you’ll ever meet, and believed in her wrackspurts and nargles the way you believe the sky is blue. It’s always changing, an array of purples and oranges and the darkest blacks; but it always returns to a brilliant azure.
Ginny noticed all this during Divination, ignoring her own tea leaves to watch as Luna inspected her leaves, smiling to herself. A little furrow appeared between her brows that made Ginny’s heart melt. Luna always looked to the world as if it was vibrant, wonderful, even though Ginny knew firsthand the kind of sorrow she had experienced.
“Miss Weasley, would you kindly return from the dreamlands and participate in the lesson,” Trelawney said.
Ginny mumbled an apology and looked into her cup, searching for a similar pattern in the textbook. Luna was one step ahead of her, as always.
"I think that one represents strong emotions, and a change in your romantic life.” The blonde girl smirked. Luna really could be so mischievous, but only the people in her inner circle knew.
“Maybe it’s that Corner boy,” Ginny speculated, ignoring the painful tug in her chest. “Or Dean Thomas, I caught him staring at me across the table two nights ago...”
Luna started to share her own guesses, and the two girls fell into deep conversation, occasionally flipping through the textbook if the professor drifted too close to their table.
That was what it had always been like between them, even after they were separated by house in first year; wonderful friendship filled with lots of laughter. They understood each other, and would listen patiently as the other rambled about Quidditch or obscure magical creatures, or more recently, boys.
Everything between them was perfectly fine until recently, when Ginny started to feel butterflies (more like elephants) when they accidentally brushed hands or when Luna told her she loved her whenever they said goodbye, just like they had done since they were kids. Ginny refused to dwell on them, afraid of what her mother would think or if Luna, ever observant, would notice.
After class, she stalked off to the Quidditch Pitch, quickly plaiting her red hair and mounting her broom. As she rose into the air, her stresses seemed to evaporate, like they were disappearing into the far-off ground. She flew laps around, tossing quaffles into hoops until the mid-December cold became too much.
The students of Hogwarts would be going on home for Christmas tomorrow, but Ron and Harry, along with a small handful of people, would be staying at the school. Ginny was nervous to go home. It would be her first time seeing her parents since she discovered her feelings for Luna, and it would be disaster if they ever found out.
Ginny returned to common room, shivering. She sat down in a corner of the large room, where Gryffindors of all ages were studying, playing gobstones and socializing. The common room had always made Ginny feel safe, with its warm atmosphere and calming color scheme. There was a fire on, and the red cushions looked so comforting...
Just a few minutes. A quick power nap and then she would finish that essay for Snape. Ginny quickly dozed off, mind swimming with distorted images of Luna’s pale hair and her mother’s angry face.
The youngest Weasley blinked awake at the sudden movement of being shaken awake by her twin brothers.
“Ginny!”
“Our loveliest sister.”
“The train is leaving.”
“In twenty minutes!”
Ginny swore, sitting up and looking blearily at her brothers. Then, she fully realized the impact of their words and raced up the stairs to the girls dorm. She shoved homework, clothes and books randomly into her trunk and pulled on Muggle jeans and a hoodie.
The redhead stumbled back down the staircase, only caught by a lazy levitating charm from George.
The rest of the morning was a blur of rushing though the halls, summoning things forgotten in the dorms and stuffing themselves with candy from the trolley witch. When they finally arrived at the Burrow, Molly was waiting at the door, ready to coddle her children.
The teenagers were all kissed and hugged, and Ginny rolled her eyes at Fleur’s accent. Ginny was excited to see Bill, as she had always held a special place in her heart for her eldest brother. The siblings all caught up, and Ginny could forget about Luna and all the feelings that stirred up for a moment. All was well.
Ginny was editing a Charms essay when she heard a sudden commotion. Something crashed in the twins’ bedroom and her mother started screaming. Ginny rushed into the room, all ready grinning and figuring that her mischievous twin brothers had done something hilarious and infuriated her mother. She passed though the doorway and stopped dead in her tracks.
George was no where to be found, and Fred and Lee were holding hands tightly on one of the beds. Both of their hair were messed up and their lips were red. Molly was shouting, her quick temper easily activated.
“-in MY house, this is absolutely ridiculous! You are bringing shame onto the family! Why can’t you be more like Bill? He’s settled down with a nice girl, got good grades in school. Why do you do this to me?”
Fred was shaking, and Ginny ran back into her room, barely missing her mother storming back into the kitchen. It wasn’t that hard to guess what had happened. Her mother had never approved of queer people, and Ginny guessed her desire for grandchildren added to her opinion. And when Molly Weasley has decided something, nothing could change her mind.
Ginny rushed back into the twins’ room, and found that George was already there. Lee had disappeared, and Ginny noted that the fireplace still shone slightly green.
“Fred…,” she started.
“Leave it, Gin,” Fred snapped. “I get it. I’m a shame on the family name, terrible influence for Ron, et cetera.”
“That’s not- I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve all that.” Ginny went over to the bed and sat down, hugging her older brother tightly, choosing to ignore his stunned expression.
George gave her a small smile and they both held onto a crying Fred, a pile of red hair and freckly skin on the twins’ bed.