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Chapter Text

Ginny had always known she was different, not in the way of scraped knees or muddy shoes, but in a way that sat heavy beneath her skin.

Something ancient. Something wrong. She was twelve the first time it surfaced.

Her brothers had dared her to sleep in the barn during the full moon. She remembered the buzzing in her teeth, the way the wind suddenly sounded like a language she almost understood. Her dreams had twisted into violent shapes, and she woke hours later in shredded pyjamas, straw clinging to her arms, blood on her tongue. There'd been a dead rabbit nearby.

Her parents scolded her siblings, told them to leave her alone, and they never mentioned anything to them. With Ginny, they simply told her to go and sleep in her room.

Her mother threw away the clothes without asking questions. Her father hugged her too tightly for too long. She knew then her parents always suspected something.

By the time she was sixteen, they'd stopped trying to pretend. Her father quietly reinforced the shed out back. Silver locks. Thick doors. Food and water, just in case. Her mother cried sometimes, when she thought Ginny couldn't hear.

She left Hogwarts after the second year. Her parents wrote to the Headmaster. Once again, no one asked questions. Her siblings found it odd, but their parents told them to stop asking.

She received tuition at home. The tutor said she was brilliant and could go far, but didn't understand why she wasn't sent to Hogwarts like everyone else. Ginny's parents changed tutors often, telling each one they couldn't afford to keep them—maybe because of the cost, or maybe because the tutors asked too many questions. They were keeping secrets from everyone, and Ginny felt a muted relief each time a tutor left. Even though her parents were scared—maybe scared of her—they still showed their love in the only way they knew how.

Ginny tried to stay away from people. She'd only dated once. A kind, soft-spoken girl named Clara. It ended after one disastrous full moon and a panicked retreat. Ginny told her it was chronic migraines, that she needed space, that it wasn't her.

Clara didn't believe her. But she didn't try to stay either.

Ginny learned to build her life in cycles. She took a job at a bookshop with flexible hours. She moved into a small cottage at the edge of the woods, far enough from town that she could scream if she had to—without anyone hearing. She set up silencing charms around the property, careful wards to keep her secrets safe far enough that no one saw the strange light in her eyes when she got angry. Or hungry.

And then Luna arrived.

She'd walked into the bookshop one windy afternoon, clutching a rain-damp copy of Supernatural Sightings of Sussex and asking where she could find more books about cryptids that weren't just making fun of them. Ginny, against her better judgment, liked her immediately.

Luna was eccentric. She wore earrings made of beetle wings and spoke as if she were halfway in another world. But she listened, really listened, and she never flinched at Ginny's intensity. They started seeing each other casually, then frequently, then almost every day.

Ginny tried to keep her distance when the moon grew. She'd cancel plans, say she was sick, and avoid physical contact. But Luna wasn't like other people. She didn't chase, but she didn't back off either. She simply… waited. Observed. Accepted. It was like Luna understood that Ginny needed space and didn't ask questions. Maybe she trusted Ginny enough to know she wasn't being unfaithful—just dealing with her own things in her own way.

And Ginny, for all her fear, found herself drawn in.

Each time she watched Luna chatter about ghosts or sketch wild maps of local "sightings," Ginny felt the tightness in her chest ease just a little. Like maybe, in all her wildness, she wasn't as alone as she thought.

Still, she had planned never to tell her. Never to risk it. Because how could Luna, bright, weird, fragile Luna, survive the monster Ginny became under the moonlight?

Except, Luna was the one who had figured it out on her own. And she'd stayed.

Ginny wasn't sure what that meant yet. But for the first time in years, she hoped it meant she didn't have to run anymore.

Ginny sat by the window of her small cottage. Outside, the trees moved gently in the evening breeze. The sky was turning soft pink and purple. She watched the colours change, but her mind was far away.

She felt tired. Not just tired in her body but tired in her heart. Being a werewolf was hard. It was a secret she had carried for years, like a heavy stone in her chest. Every month, when the full moon came, she changed. She lost control. She became wild and dangerous. It scared her. It made her feel alone.

Sometimes Ginny wished she could be normal. She wanted to live like other people, to have simple days without fear. She wanted to walk in the sun without hiding, to smile without feeling guilty. She wanted to love and be loved without secrets. But she knew that was not her life.

"I wish I could be free," she whispered to the empty room. "Free to be myself without running."

Ginny often wondered if she was a mistake. Why had this happened to her? Was she cursed? Sometimes she felt angry at herself for what she was. She hated the way her body betrayed her every month. She hated the loneliness that came with it. But deep down, she also knew there was a part of her that was strong. The wolf inside was not just a curse. It was part of who she was. It was wild and free, full of power and fire. She had learned to live with it, to protect herself and others.

Still, she longed for something more than just safety. She wanted to find someone who could see all of her, the human and the wolf, and still care for her. Someone who would understand her fear and her strength. Someone who would not run away.

That was why Luna was so important. Luna was quirky and kind. She listened without judging. She asked questions but did not push too hard. Luna was making Ginny feel seen in a way no one else had.

Still, Ginny was afraid. Afraid that if Luna ever knew everything, she would flinch and pull away. That the wildness in her would always push people too far. Even her parents had looked at her like she was something fragile and dangerous. Something they couldn't quite understand.

And Ginny was afraid of that, too. Afraid that she was too much, and that she always would be.

Yet every time Luna stayed, every time she smiled and reached out her hand, Ginny felt a small hope grow inside her. Perhaps she didn't have to be alone. Maybe she could trust someone again.

The sky darkened, and the first stars appeared. Ginny took a deep breath. She felt a quiet courage rise in her.

"I want to try," she said softly. "To be more than just afraid. To be real."

And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to hope.

Chapter Text

Luna loved the woods behind her cottage. She roamed them with a patched-up satchel, a half-broken compass, and three notebooks labelled Ghosts: Verified, Suspected, Debunked. Today, she was after thestrals. Or maybe nargles. Or maybe something new entirely.

Ginny trudged behind her, hands jammed in her jacket pockets, pretending not to be nervous. The moon was full, her teeth already aching.

"You're limping," Luna said lightly, not turning around.

"Old injury," Ginny lied.

"Claw mark?"

Ginny froze.

Luna turned then, dreamy eyes glinting in the silver light. "Just guessing. You seem the type."

Ginny forced a laugh. "I'm the type to get mauled by something, yeah."

They walked in silence for a while. Luna stopped to press her palm to a tree, murmuring something about lingering spirit residue. Ginny's stomach churned. The hairs on her neck were rising. Her skin itched as it always did right before it happened.

"Hey," Ginny said too quickly, "maybe we should go back. You haven't eaten. I can make tea—"

"Do you know what I love about you?" Luna interrupted, without looking at her.

Ginny swallowed. "What?"

"You never ask me to be normal."

Ginny blinked. "Well. I'd be a bit of a hypocrite if I did."

Luna finally turned around, smiling. "Exactly."

But that smile faded as her gaze dropped to the forest floor. Ginny followed it, and her blood turned to ice.

A tuft of fur. Red-gold. Still warm.

Ginny's breath hitched. "Must be, uh, fox… or a coyote."

Luna crouched. Picked it up. "This isn't from any local animal I know." She sniffed it. "Smells like cinnamon and storm."

Ginny nearly bolted.

"Luna." Her voice came out low, guttural. "We need to go."

But Luna stood. "You're not scared of what's out here." Her eyes narrowed, calculating in that way that always unsettled Ginny. "You're scared of me finding it."

Ginny turned away. Her bones were starting to shift. She could feel the pull of the moon on her spine.

"I'll see you back at the cottage," she said roughly, breaking into a run before she could say something worse, like, I'm sorry, or I wish I could tell you, or don't follow me.

She didn't look back.

Ginny woke in her usual spot, half-naked and sore in the cottage shed, covered in dirt and pine needles.

Luna was sitting nearby, cross-legged, notebook in hand.

Ginny groaned. "Did you follow me?"

Luna smiled. "No. I waited. You always end up here."

Ginny sat up. "And?"

"I think I've found something new," Luna chirped. "Definitely supernatural. Probably unique. Very soft fur."

Ginny stared.

Luna shrugged. "You could've told me. But I suppose you were scared."

"I could've hurt you." Ginny's voice cracked. The memory of the night before came rushing back; trees flashing past in a blur, the snap of her bones reshaping, the taste of blood in her mouth even though she hadn't bitten anything. Had she? She couldn't remember everything. What if she had circled back? What if she had howled loud enough for Luna to follow?

Luna leaned in and kissed her forehead. "You didn't."

Ginny flinched, just slightly. How could Luna be so calm? Hadn't she seen it? Ginny as a thing on all fours, snarling at the sky, wild and dangerous and wrong. Ginny looked away, jaw clenched. Her hands were still shaking. "You're really not scared?"

"Don't be silly," Luna said. "You're adorable. Even with claws."

Ginny gaped at her, an odd hollowness blooming in her chest. Could it really be this easy? After all the fear, the years spent hiding, the gut-deep certainty that no one could ever see that side of her and stay, so was Luna just not afraid?

It didn't make sense. It felt like a trick. Like the calm before something broke. Like maybe Ginny was still dreaming, or hadn't shifted back entirely, or maybe Luna didn't understand what she was, what she could do, what she might do, next time.

She wanted to believe Luna. More than anything. But belief felt dangerous, too.

Chapter Text

Luna liked to believe she had excellent instincts. Not always logical, and certainly not always useful, but instinctive nonetheless.

She'd known something was unusual about Ginny from the moment they met. It wasn't the way Ginny looked, though she did look a bit like a storm bottled into a person; it was the way she watched. Always just a little too closely. Like she was cataloguing exits.

But Luna had never minded sharp things. Sharp knives, sharp looks, sharp people. Ginny was all edges, and Luna liked edges. They caught light in interesting ways.

Still, she hadn't expected this.

She hadn't expected fur that shimmered red in the moonlight. Claw marks on tree bark. Blood that smelled like pine sap and copper.

She hadn't expected a werewolf.

Not that she was sure at first. There were other options, after all; shifters, forest spirits, even cursed humans. Luna kept her options open. But the signs were stacking up, and Ginny wasn't exactly trying to deny them anymore.

Luna flipped open her notebook, jotting down her morning observations:

+ Shed door intact.
+ Ginny uninjured. Clothes mostly torn.
+ Still twitchy. But let me sit near her.
+ Definitely wolf, I think. Large. Red-gold fur. Eyes not fully glazed; unusual?

She looked up. Ginny was sitting against the wall of the shed, still tired, still ashamed. That last part bothered Luna the most. The shame. Like she had something to be sorry for.

Luna didn't understand that.

"I hope you're not waiting for me to scream or run or grab a torch," Luna said gently.

Ginny didn't respond. Just pulled a blanket tighter around herself.

Luna put her quill down. "Because I won't. You're not a monster. Just very rare. Very interesting."

Ginny gave her a look that was half exhaustion, half disbelief. "You don't get it."

"I might," Luna said. "More than most."

Ginny looked away. "You think this is exciting. An entry in your creature log."

Luna didn't deny it. But she leaned closer. "I think it's you. That's what makes it exciting."

A long silence. Ginny didn't move, but something in her expression cracked just slightly. Luna saw the fear behind the sharpness. The loneliness behind the growl.

She remembered being called names growing up. Loony Lovegood. Spooky. She'd stopped trying to explain herself a long time ago. It wasn't worth the blank stares.
But Ginny never looked at her like that. Ginny listened. Even when she didn't believe.

And Luna would do the same.

"I've spent years looking for something like this," Luna said, voice soft. "Not just to prove it's real. But to prove that maybe the world is stranger and better than people think. You… you're proof. And I like you. Even when you growl at squirrels."

Ginny gave the smallest snort of a laugh.

Luna smiled. "See? That wasn't so hard."

There was still tension in the air, like a rubber band stretched too tight. But Luna didn't mind. She could wait. Ginny had been alone for a long time.

Luna wasn't going anywhere.

Chapter Text

Ginny invited her siblings and their partners over for tea at Luna's place. Fred and George had gone to a wizarding tournament that was basically a contest of pranks and jokes.

Percy was on holiday with his boyfriend, and Bill was stuck at work.

So Ginny sat on the rug in Luna's living room and began telling the rest of the group that was there… everything.

"I'm sorry, you what?" Ron asked, blinking like he had just been handed a spider wrapped in a blanket.

"I have wanted to tell you the truth," Ginny said, sitting cross-legged on the rug in Luna's living-room. "I know I've never invited you to my house, so I thought before you come to my cottage, see fur everywhere, and think I'm hiding some wild animal."

"Is this why mum and dad always just told us to go spend the night at a friend's house during summer holiday? They never explained why you had to leave Hogwarts, and I thought it was so weird. Mum could never keep a secret, and well, apparently she did keep the biggest one!"

Charlie smiled gently. "Well, it could be worse. At least it's not something truly terrifying. I'm sure our parents were just waiting for the right time for Ginny to tell us her truth, on her own terms."

He nudged Neville, who looked both intrigued and worried.

"I transform," Ginny said simply. "Full moon. Classic lore. Claws, fur, the whole horrifying spa day."

"You're a werewolf," Hermione clarified. "You're saying you've been a werewolf… this whole time?" Her brother Ron had been dating Hermione for ages, so she'd always come around. Ginny could tell that Hermione was disappointed, not because Ginny was a werewolf but because she hadn't figured it out.

It would be comical if it weren't Ginny's life. "I didn't choose it, Hermione."

"No, of course not. I just… when you cancelled plans on full moons, I thought it was anxiety. Or cramps."

Ginny gave her a look. "It was anxiety. And cramps. Also: the urge to eat squirrels."

Neville asked very seriously, "Do you actually eat them?"

Ginny grimaced. "Once. I still feel bad. It was a baby squirrel." Her siblings made a face, and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Aww," Luna murmured. "It probably had annoying siblings."

The silence was thick enough to stir with a spoon.

"Can you tell us how it happened?" Hermione asked.

Ginny looked at Luna, who brought out the book she'd been reading.

Luna opened the book and began to read aloud, her voice calm but full of curiosity. "Sometimes, it says here, lycanthropy can be a genetic disorder—passed down through families like bad taste in socks. Other times, it's caused by a bite or some other magical mishap. But if you don't know, you don't know.

"When a child comes of age for their magic to fully show, that's when things can start to change. For Ginny, it was at twelve years old that the 'virus' inside her began to transform her. It's quite possible that Mr and Mrs Weasley suspected something but didn’t say anything at first because they weren’t sure when—or if—she’d start to change.

"There’s a trigger, and once it happens, there’s no going back. Unless, of course, you find a way to be at ease with it."

Luna looked up with a small smile. "I’m hoping that with my research—and a few potions—we might find a way to manage it. Not a cure, sadly, but maybe enough to tame it down a bit. Like giving a particularly grumpy Niffler a nice shiny coin to calm it."

She winked at Ginny. "We’ll figure this out. Together."

Then Ron said, "So Luna's dating a werewolf."

Luna perked up. "Yes. She's very soft in that form. Surprisingly affectionate, once she stops growling."

"She's growled at you?" Charlie asked, half laughing, half horrified.

"She warned me! It was quite romantic."

"Anyway," Ginny said, cutting through the conversation where Luna shared more things to embarrass her. "I just wanted you all to know. So if I act weird or disappear sometimes, which I know I already do, it's not because I don't care or don't trust you. It's about control. And safety. For you. For me."

Hermione finally spoke again, voice quieter. "Thank you. For telling us. And for trusting us with it."

Ron nodded. "Yeah. We love you. Werewolf or not."

Charlie lifted his beer. "To fangs and family."

Neville clinked his glass to Charlie's. "And to Luna, who apparently treats supernatural transformation like a field study for Magical Creatures Quarterly."

"I took notes," Luna said brightly. "Do you want to read my 'WereGinny' field guide?"

"I do," said Neville. "Immediately."

Ginny groaned and dropped her head into her hands. "I regret everything."

Luna tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear. "You'll feel better after a nap. Or a steak."

"Are… are we enabling raw carnivorous behaviour now?" Ron asked, looking a little too interested.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, Ron. It's Luna. If anyone can turn a dangerous magical creature into a snuggle partner, it's her."

Ginny looked around the room at her weird, chaotic, fiercely loyal group of people. They weren’t perfect. They were loud, awkward, and sometimes clueless. But they were hers. And they knew now. All of it.

For the first time in years, something in her chest let go. A tightness she was carrying for years finally eased. Her shoulders dropped. Her breath came easier. She wasn't hiding anymore. She wasn't a secret. They had seen the truth, and they stayed.

She felt it deep in her bones, warm and solid and genuine. She was safe.

Chapter Text

For their one-year anniversary, they picked a place by the sea; remote, wind-swept, tucked between cliffs and pine forests where the horizon stretched wide and secret. No hotels. No crowds. Just a rented cottage with creaky floors and windows that let in moonlight like it was meant to live there.

Luna packed first: a jumper patterned with swirling dark grey and blue clouds, streaks of white like lightning flashing through a stormy sky, three books on coastal spirits, and a camera shaped like a teacup. Ginny brought a toothbrush and two extra sets of clothes. Luna added snacks, tea, and a tiny crossbow “just in case” though that was funny, Ginny thought, since Luna would never actually use a crossbow. It was plastic.

They made it one mile from the cottage before Luna made them stop and investigate "singing rocks." Ginny watched her, half-exasperated and entirely in love.

They held hands almost constantly. On trails that wound through the trees. Over cups of hot cider. Under a shared blanket while Luna pointed out constellations and whispered stories about stars who fell in love with the sea.

At night, Ginny let herself relax. She'd taken the potions Luna had brewed for her.

Usually, Ginny stayed human, except during the full moon, when the wolf took over. But this time, even with the moon high and bright, something held the change back. It was love, the steady, grounding love she felt for Luna. Holding her hand, hearing her quiet voice, feeling her warmth beside her — all of it made Ginny feel safe in a way she hadn’t thought possible. The full moon still brought its familiar pull and the fear of losing control, but now there was something more substantial. For the first time, the shift didn’t feel inevitable. Love wrapped around her like a soft shield and quieted the wolf inside her.

It didn’t banish the wolf completely, but it was enough. Ginny stayed human through the full moon, something she had never done before. Maybe it would only happen once. But tonight, she was herself.

She kissed Luna under a sky dusted with stars. Soft. Certain. She held her face like something fragile and then kissed her again like something cherished.

Luna smiled into it, always a little tilted, like she knew something Ginny didn't. "You taste like cinnamon."

Ginny laughed. "You always say that."

They lay on the dunes that night, wrapped together. Ginny would worry about shifting next month, but tonight, Luna's love, care, and her potions had worked. It was perfect, and it would make the future tolerable and also simply amazing.