Work Text:
Though it was a warm, clear day and just past noon, the trees were thick enough that it was almost hard to believe it was still daylight at all. Almost.
In the clearing, the sun shone strong, bright and clear, making the grass look greener, and even the last of the summer's wildflowers looked more colorful than they usually should. The air was crisp, the beginning of autumn not quite starting to creep into the last of the summer's heat, and there was a light breeze that could be felt even from here.
And Millicent sat right at the edge, on a cool, flat rock. There, but not participating.
Other students were there too, maybe a dozen, maybe more, all of whom had been invited for a sort of picnic lunch. They were Seventh Years mostly, and some so-called Eighth Years, a messy cobbling together of those few among her peers who were still alive, still in the country, and still wished to return for an actual graduation from Hogwarts after the war.
Potter hadn't returned, nor Granger, nor either of the Weasleys. There was Turpin but no Goldstein, MacMillan but no Finch-Fletchley. She was the only Slytherin in either her year or the next to return, and the losses to her House were only even close to matched by those to Gryffindor.
Yet among all who had come, all who were drawn to the idea of a last day of lazing about in the sun, her eyes kept getting drawn to the girl who invited her. A mere slip of a thing, with hair that shone golden whenever the sun hit it, just so.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?"
Millicent startled at the voice, upset she didn't notice anyone coming closer until it was too late. She didn't recognize her at first, caught up in how deeply scarred her face was, but then her memory finally supplied the answer.
"Brown, was it?"
"Lavender," Lavender replied, helping herself to a seat on a log beside her rock.
Lavender held out her hand for a shake, and Millicent took it gingerly. "Millicent, then," she said.
Introductions over, Lavender turned her focus back to the clearing, settling back on her hands with a sigh. Millicent followed suit, but couldn't quite tell what those who organized this were up to; the heap of blankets and furniture and other assorted items looked just as much like a riotous mess as it had when last she checked. Luna certainly looked like she was having fun though, gathering for herself a bouquet full of weeds and leaves from fallen branches.
"She's beautiful isn't she?" Lavender repeated, and this time Millicent flushed. It wasn't like she'd been staring all this time, and she certainly wasn't being as obvious about it as Lavender was.
"It's funny, you know," Lavender continued. "To think... I think I used to look like that too. It isn't just about the damned attack, or the scars, or even the war, but I used to be happy like that. Carefree smile, like nothing would ever go wrong. And now look at me."
That last she said with a self-deprecating half smile, and a gesture as though it wasn't clear she was referring to her face.
"She was a prisoner during the war," Millicent said, voice maybe sharper than a sunny picnic warranted. "Had to be rescued from the Malfoy dungeons in one of the raids, by Potter himself, I heard."
Lavender frowned and said, "I didn't know," and blessedly fell silent after that.
The rest finally decided they were done with whatever needed assembling, though Millicent couldn't tell who decided or how. Picnic baskets were opened next, and she accepted a plate of food and a bottle of butterbeer when they were handed to her.
Some sort of game started with a ball flying about, sometimes being tossed and sometimes flying on its own. She slowly finished her first bottle, then a second, watching the field all the while. Her eyes kept being drawn back to the same spot though, to a bright yellow dress, radish earrings, or a handmade necklace.
The sun slipped behind a cloud, thin and wispy, with the barest hint of a shadow cast, and then it started to rain.
It wasn't hard, nor furious. No, it was a gentle trickle, hardly audible but for the rustling of the leaves.
A laugh rung out, clear and high, and then Luna was there, still standing out in the open, hands outstretched. She started dancing, following perhaps the gentle rhythm of the drops falling, perhaps a tune only she could hear.
It didn't matter. Either way, she was shone.
Luna's dress started to soak through and her hair formed together into a sodden sheet, but one by one, the party returned to her. A Hufflepuff, a Ravenclaw, and even Lavender stood to join in, to laugh and dance as well.
And then, Luna turned to her, a soft smile on her lips, hands outstretched, and Millicent melted.
Tentatively, she returned the smile, setting down the bottle and stood. She took Luna's hands, so soft and delicate, and let herself be pulled into the clearing.
And even as she started to sway, let herself be caught up in the motion around her, as the rain started to soak her as well, still her attention was only for Luna. On those bright eyes, those lips stretched now in a wide smile.