Work Text:
Luna Lovegood had always prided herself on her perceptiveness, despite ridicule amongst her peers. Now, looking around at the scene that is the post-Hogwarts battle site, the dust had begun to settle enough for her to take it in:
Bodies. Tears. Blood.
The battle was won. Harry Potter was alive. Ronald Weasley stood triumphantly by his side. But Hermione Granger was not there.
Hermione Granger had instead limped away towards a broken column on the opposite side of the grounds where a figure sat, alone shrouded in shadows, with their elbows on their knees and spine bowed to the ground.
She gently reached for the shadow with one hand, landing on a cheek. Her expression tender, relieved, worried. Luna had seen this look many times when Hermione faced the shadows over the past year.
And from the shadows, an unsure hand folds over hers. The other lands on her waist, carefully drawing her close. Then, a white-blonde head lifts just enough out of the shadows to bury into her shoulders. She is encapsulated in his possessive embrace, molding perfectly to his protective frame. Luna could almost feel the message on her skin, wordlessly spoken between the two-
I promise.
Luna Lovegood smiles wistfully and turns away. No one had believed her before, and perhaps they still won’t, but perhaps it wasn’t her story to tell.