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He isn’t quite sure how he has landed himself in this situation.
Severus finds himself in a small town nestled in the Irish midlands with his peculiar and enthusiastic wife.
Not only is he unsure how he has found himself amidst a large crowd of Muggles this Halloween, he is still confused at the idea of being married to Luna.
It’s been quite a few years since the Ministry matched them as ‘compatible’ during the early stages of the mandatory marriage law. The rapid decline in the Wizarding population in Britain was cause for serious action to be taken, according to the Ministry.
Severus was none too pleased to find himself standing arm in arm with Miss Lovegood as a ministry official pronounced them husband and wife .
Not three years later the law was revoked and declared a failure.
Yet, here he stands, wet up to his knees in a muddy field in Ireland eighteen years after they had been forced to wed. He’s still not sure at what point in those three years they had fallen for one another, but loath he was to admit it at the time, the eccentric witch burrowed under his skin.
“They really are much more fascinating to look at than pumpkins, aren’t they?” she muses, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket.
Luna had assured him that his robes wouldn’t stand out here, that this particular event attracts all manner of magical and Muggle beings, but it goes against everything he’s learned to dress as a Wizard outside of their world.
“Severus? Don’t you think so?”
“They are horrifying,” he replies, casting an eye over the hollowed out turnips on display.
“I think that’s largely subjective,” says his maddening wife, always looking beyond the exterior and finding beauty where others would fail to, “and they had a purpose, warding off evil spirits was the priority, not looking cute.”
Severus hums his noncommittal answer. Somehow these foolish trips of theirs are bearable with her by his side, tugging excitedly on his arm. It’s the only reason he continues to accompany her.
He reaches into his pocket.
“Here,” he says gruffly, thrusting the gift into her palm. Even after all this time he is still inept in these situations and eternally grateful that his wife does not judge him for it.
Luna holds up the small turnip shaped earrings with a gleeful grin. He had spotted them at a stall earlier that night while she was distracted by ‘Hag Stones’ and spent an enormous amount of time questioning the vendor. Immediately she swaps her usual radishes for the turnips before her hands snake around his midsection tightly for a moment.
“They’re perfect,” she tells him affectionately.
He is taken-aback, almost reaching for his wand when a masked figure in a heavy black robe sweeps past them. The being is closely followed by several others similarly dressed. Momentarily he is transported back in time to when he adorned such items. Intrigued, he grasps his wife’s hand firmly and follows the crowd.
They are not Death Eater masks—of course not— each takes the form of an animal. They are unsettling, each one blank and oversized on its wearer. In stark contrast to his former brethren these folk frolick gleefully, coming to a stop at a large bonfire.
Severus watches curiously as the robed figures throw handfuls of mysterious powder into the blazing fire to create colourful flames which fade instantly. He wonders if this is as close to magic as the gathering might have come.
Luna’s large eyes reflect the ‘enchanted’ flames as Severus focuses on her eager expression.
It’s madness how a witch can find herself enthralled by the traditions of Muggles, she knows true magic and yet, watching this display of party tricks is a wonder to her. He could only hope to feel as she does. To see splendour and mystery where he can only focus on suspicion and fear.
She tugs his hand again, he’s so lost in her eyes that he fails to notice her focus has shifted to him. Warmth seeps through him, coursing through his veins, infecting his very soul as they stare at one another.
Luna lifts onto her toes, closing the distance between them. As her lips graze his cheek Severus is overcome with such affection he feels he might burst. Finally her mouth hovers next to his ear.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Luna whispers to him.
“I thought you might enjoy it,” he replies softly, threading his fingers through her silky hair.