Chapter Text
Harry woke up with a start. Again.
It was still dark outside so he could just barely make out the mess of a room as he settled his breathing. He’d only been back at Privet Drive for three days now and he’d already let it get pretty bad, but even chastising himself for the state of his room could not distract from his dream.
More of the Ministry. The battle played back over and over. As he sat up in his bed, checking the clock to see it was nearly four in the morning, he tried to focus on anything but that awful feeling that had swarmed him as he watched the light leave Sirius’s eyes. Just as cold as Cedric had felt, as cold as Ginny had been.
Luckily his stomach grumbled and broke him from this early morning spiral. He hadn’t been eating much but had been using the pre-dawn hours to replenish on his stockpile of food in the room, Harry was grateful that the Dursley’s had been far more passive than past summers since Moody and the other members of the Order gave them a curt talking to at King’s Cross. Far away was the era of getting fed through the cat flap in the door.
Rummaging through the kitchen for some apples and other snacks, Harry reasoned he could repay the kindness of their newfound indifference by hiding away upstairs, making little noise, and all around pretending he didn’t exist (almost for old times sake).
Because now he almost didn’t want to exist.
The dread of that night playing over in his dreams was bad enough, but so was his last meeting with Dumbledore. The Prophecy that had been dominating Harry’s life finally revealed, and he felt more out of his depths than ever before.
Returning to his room, Harry spent the day ruminating on the letters and wizard’s snacks his friend had sent him as soon as he’d gotten back to Surrey.
Ron and Hermione seemed to be doing everything they could to make up for last summer, which was nice but Harry just saw it as coddling now. Pity and worry. He knew they meant well, but it was all just so …different. Everything was constantly changing and he didn’t feel like putting quill to parchment because it would all just change again, so why bother? He’d probably just say something he’d regret, taking out his frustrations on them like he had all last year.
And lo and behold, today had another change in store for him, but surprisingly, this one was pleasant.
Around an hour or so after dawn, Harry sat at his paper splayed desk trying to read when a dark feathered bird cawed at his window. A crow? No. A raven…with a letter?
Opening the window, he receives a soft caw, the bird then floating in to drop a letter from its beak and a small wooden box from his talons onto his desk before landing next to Hedwig’s cage, staring at her intently. The two lightly stared before ruffling themselves and ignoring each other, Harry thought Hedwig seemed a bit miffed. Tension? Bird rivalry maybe? Wait, who even uses ravens?
The wooden box was fairly thin and just about a foot long, and the posting on the envelope said it was from…Luna Lovegood? He hadn’t heard from her since they spoke outside the Great Hall at the end-of-term feast. She had been looking for her stolen things and they talked about the Veil in the Department of Mysteries that only the two of them had heard voices from, and how she had lost her mother at a young age.
With ample curiosity, Harry opened the letter.
Dear Harry Potter,
I hope it’s okay to write seeing as how I never did ask your permission, but Dumbledore said you’d enjoy the news of who my houseguest is for the summer. He’s a hippogriff called Buckbeak. Apparently you know him quite well. The Headmaster says that he’ll be back on campus this coming year but Professor Hagrid had some family matters to handle so the Order needed a place for him to stay this summer. Professor Lupin suggested me, and my father agreed, as we both have a great love for magical creatures.
Anyway, Buckbeak is here and he was quite sad when he arrived, no doubt mourning as you are. He lost a few feathers from the stress but only a few. I’ve turned one into a quill for you. I may make more quills if the others would appreciate them? But I’ve been considering holding on to make a pillow as his summer coat comes in.
But most importantly, I wanted your permission to tell him how it happened, as I feel he deserves to know how his friend passed, but if you wish to wait and tell him yourself I understand.
He has no want for space here, there’s plenty of rolling hills where I live so he flies often, and he has been keeping busy chasing off garden gnomes and building a nest on top of our house.
D.A. Member,
Luna Lovegood
Harry had a wild grin on his face. Buckbeak back in the sky! His heart twisted a touch at the idea of the hippogriff mourning Sirius’s loss and a pang of jealousy that Harry could not fly with him, but he was just too grateful for Luna taking him in, and to send a gift as well!
Opening the wooden box to find a familiar large storm-gray feather that had been turned into a quill resting on some cushions. Almost immediately he started writing with it, although it took him a while to work through everything he wanted to say, he eventually had a response ready to send back with the raven.
Dear Luna Lovegood,
Thank you so much for the quill! I’m using it right now! Hearing that Buckbeak is free to fly is fantastic news. He’d been cooped up the last year with Sirius. I’m grateful that you and your dad were able to take him in, truly. Please share with him all that happened, I don’t know if I could bring myself to talk about it in all honesty, even if it is all I think of these days while I’m stuck in the muggle world.
As for the other’s, I know Hermione would appreciate a quill, not sure about Ron or the rest. I’d take as many of his feathers that fall, but a pillow is a pretty good idea.
But didn’t you say your father and you were going on an expedition to Sweden? Searching for the Crumple-Horn Snorlcax was it? Will Buckbeak be joining or was the trip canceled?
Regardless, I look forward to seeing you and Buckbeak again when school finally starts back up, as far away as it feels right now. But please feel free to write as much as you’d like.
Your Friend,
Harry Potter
P.S. What’s your raven’s name?
As Harry sent off the letter, his elation stayed with him for a fair portion of the day. And he had enjoyed Luna signing her letter as D.A Member, but with Umbridge gone the D.A. would be disbanded and with how he had led the group into unnecessary danger he didn’t feel like it would be right to call sign it back D.A. Leader.
He wrote replies to Ron and Hermione as well, but once his correspondences were done there really wasn’t anything for Harry to do but lay around his room and try (and fail) to read.
It wasn’t until the next morning that he got a response as the raven returned.
Dear Harry Potter,
Terpsichore is her name, as she is a phenomenal dancer. Play her some lindy-hop and you’ll be quite dazzled I assure you.
Buckbeak was quite sad when I told him how Sirius passed, and he seemed worried about you when I described the battle, as we all were. I spent the day grooming him in his nest. He would pester me quite a bit if I tried to leave. Even to get us food. I do not think he wants to be alone. Exceptionally odd as hippogriffs are often solitary creatures. I suspect your godfather had an effect on him.
And Buckbeak will be joining the expedition for the Crumpled Horn Snorkack! My father believes his aerial capabilities will be a big help with scouting, when I told Buckbeak he seemed excited. I think it’s so he can keep busy, as after I described the upcoming trip he went back to chasing gnomes. For the rest of the day
I hope you are keeping busy as well Harry. With the Dementor attack last year I assume you’re keeping indoors quite often, and with no magic outside of school I can only imagine your wallowing is quite terrible. Wallowing is most troublesome Harry, as I’m sure you know, as it can attract Oizy’s to nest in your socks. And sometimes the far worse Phobies, so do be on the lookout and check your spine for any bites! I’ve sent along some past Quibbler articles on them so you can ward them off.
But as for your wallowing itself, I know it’s quite pestering for people to instruct you on how to process your grief, so I will provide no suggestions unless asked.
We leave for Sweden in two days, so my letters will be more infrequent but I do hope you will write me again.
Your Friend,
Luna Lovegood
Harry couldn’t help the bemused expression on his face at the strange creatures she mentioned. He remembered the Nargles that Luna had spoken of and how the butterbeer cork necklace she wore was a charm to ward them off.
The few lines about him wallowing had him looking around his mess of a room. And the incredibly forward mentions about how he was ‘processing grief’ unsettled him of course. But not in an entirely unpleasant way. Luna did have a very direct nature, so while it was weird to have someone write about it so simply, it was oddly calming. The casual nature, non-accusatory or expectant as he read the words in her voice, had a normalizing effect, he thought.
Compared to Ron and Hermione dancing around and distracting him in their letters, which he did appreciate to a degree. Ron with Quidditch and Weasley family updates, and Hermione with her family holiday as well as summer studies and upcoming N.E.W.T coursework discussions.
Neither of them would dare be as direct as Luna was. Mostly because Harry had snapped so much at them the past year, so he couldn’t really blame them, and at the same time he wasn’t going to bring it up because he truly did not want to talk about.
Still, Luna’s bluntness was interesting, and from what he does know about her Harry can’t deny his curiosity at how the odd girl handles her own grief.
He lingered over the blank parchment on how to best respond for a while, eventually he decided something short would be best served just so he could get it out.
Dear Luna,
Thank you for the articles, I’ll see what I can do about Phobies and the Oizy’s once I read them.
You’re right about the wallowing, and how I haven’t really got anything to do here. And I do appreciate you reserving your opinions on grief, but I am genuinely curious, how do you handle yours?
I do hope your expedition goes well. I hope to see a picture of a Crumpled-Horn Snorkack in the Quibbler sometime soon!
Your Friend,
Harry Potter
The next response came later the following morn with a few fresh Buckbeak quills, Terpsichore at his window just before he was going to tear through the chocolate frogs and licorice wands Ron had sent. Not the healthiest of breakfasts Harry had to admit.
Dear Harry,
A picture would be quite grand. My father has purchased a new camera just for the trip, as the muggles say ‘fingers twisted’ and the like.
And there are a number of ways I handle my woes. My mother would often advise talking to myself in the mirror. Get things out of my head and into the air, good and bad, and maybe have the odd staring contest to help the body relax and flush out Wrackspurts. Though in recent years painting and drawing has been my favored outlet for just about all emotions.
I’m told talking to oneself can be seen as quite strange, so for you I would ask if you have ever journaled? Not just about your godfather, but all things. From this past year, to snippets I’ve heard about how you saved Buckbeak, and the Tri-Wizard Tournament of course, it seems you have had a number of adventures. Unwillingly as they are lethal.
Harry snorted at the last sentence. Perfectly summarizing basically his entire life.
Writing things down now could help get them out of your head, and make it easier to look back on when troubled later, even the true troubles get easier to read about as time buffers them away.
I know you dislike talking about yourself from the interview you gave (of which my father and I are very grateful), but you seemed lighter after having done it. But journaling wouldn’t be for anyone but you. Tell yourself your own story. Maybe imagine how you would react to reading it if your story was not your own? With all you’ve gone through it will take some time to reach your godfather’s death. Maybe by then it will be farther away and easier to consider.
If it doesn’t work, I’m sorry for wasting your time. Thank you very much for asking. It’s nice to be asked about my opinion. It does not happen often, if at all.
Your Friend,
Luna Lovegood
Harry considered it for a time. As well as the odd ending to the letter, in how Luna so casually mentions something that gives Harry a mix of feelings between pity and embarrassment. In the end, he decided to give journaling a try, and wrote to Luna he would be putting his Buckbeak quill to use.
After that though, Luna’s response did get more infrequent. Mostly about the expedition, and what it was like traveling with the ‘renowned and wanted criminal Buckbeak’ as she put it.
Encouraged by spending time with Buckbeak in his own way, Harry began to journal, making use of his new quills. Not about his current day to day at Privet Drive, but about all he had been through since joining the Wizarding World. Hagrid's arrival, meeting his friends, the Troll, starting Quidditich, even Quirrell.
Thinking about the past and how much has changed helped put off focusing on his more recent struggles, even if they weren’t always pleasant things, they seemed far less terrible in the face of what was currently plaguing him. Oh Fluffy, looking back you were kind of cute.
Even his letters with Ron and Hermione got longer as a result of him asking them to recall their perspectives on their past adventures, even occasionally asking Neville for what he remembered and thought of it all from an outsider’s perspective, adding all of this to his personal recollections.
Harry noted he had stopped himself from writing Ginny, nervous to ask her to relive her First Year for what he considered glaringly obvious reasons.
It took up the next week of his time at Privet Drive and then some. He was barely halfway finished with his ruminations regarding his third year at Hogwarts when he got a letter from Dumbledore that the Headmaster himself would be coming to pick him up!