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The rain pelting against the window was soothing. If he focuses enough, it sounds like a melody. The noise almost distracted him from the storm of dark emotions swirling inside of him. The heat of it crept up, threatening to choke him. Harry Potter hadn’t felt a visceral rage this consuming in a long time. He could feel his magic pulsing, begging to be let go. He takes deep breaths, trying to control his temper, his heart, and more importantly, his magic.
Harry Potter had practiced the art of containing one’s emotions. Well, just long enough to run a department of Aurors. Harry snorted at the thought.
If you were to ask public opinion, Harry Potter was “the most talented and skilled Auror DMLE has seen in decades, perhaps the last century.” The praise often felt undeserved. His wins were mainly due to his friends and mentors rather than himself. Nonetheless, the skills in dueling against dark wizards were renowned across Europe, as Head Italian Auror Caino Federici testifies, “his dueling is between a fight and a dance.” The international team of Aurors laughed. It elicited a wry grin from Harry, who sipped on his whiskey to hide his discomfort at the compliment. They were celebrating their success in a Lithuanian tavern. The team of Aurors had successfully raided and dismantled a camp where dark wizards attempted to forcefully breed pureblood wizards using pureblood women as their “partners”, a case which involved 37 pureblood women missing over 4 countries. It took a team of 16 highly skilled Aurors to dismantle the emerging cult, Harry being one of them. It made headlines and kept Harry at the center of the Daily Prophet for a long while.
But that case had been a cakewalk compared to the case he’s covering now. His hands fidget, wanting to do something. He can’t remember the last time he feels this untethered, this unhinged.
Perhaps, fifth year. Harry recalls dryly, remembering his teenage angst and anger: driven by, at the time, an unknown piece of Tom Riddle’s soul. The memories of one of his darkest years at Hogwarts bombard him, and he finishes his whiskey, slamming the glass down a little too hard. He closes his eyes, attempting to banish the darkness and calm his nerves.
He tries an exercise that one of the DMLE-mandated mind healers taught him: replacing the bad memories of the time with the good that came of it.
The scar on his hand, formed by the blood quill, I had my first kiss.
Umbridge becoming headmaster, teaching the DA to protect themselves.
Seeing thestrals. Becoming friends with Luna.
At the name, he feels his mouth twitch: a small grin forms, and he opens his eyes. For the first time that night, he felt the tightness in his chest ease a little, thinking of his dear friend. Thinking of her accomplishments in the years following the war, with discovering new creatures and becoming a mom of twin boys, Lorcan and Lysander, he felt a sense of admiration for her. His mouth dips when he realizes that he hadn’t heard or seen her in months, since their kids were dropped off on the Hogwarts platform. It was her twins and Lily Luna’s first year at Hogwarts. To assuage the guilt, he made a mental note to write to her, asking after her well-being and how her boys were handling Hogwarts. He wants to know how she was handling being home without the boys. He should probably write down some advice or two to ease the pain. I mean, it’s Luna. She’s probably fine and degnoming her garden or wandering in the forest. Still, I should probably write to her.
Leaning back against the booth, Harry heaves a deep sigh as his suffocating weight came back, heavier this time. Lately, he seems to be failing at every aspect of his life.
A few hours earlier, 9:07 pm
Harry rubs his neck as he steps up to his house. The slight drizzle of rain cooling his helplessness and anger. The case with the singular missing Muggleborn witch turned into 4 witches missing in a week. Harry and Ron are no closer to a lead than when the case hit their desk last week. Having this career for over 2 decades now, has led Harry to believe that the cases get easier to solve. But, wizards finding new ways to commit heinous crimes never ends.
It angers him. This was what he thought he was good at. Why does he keep failing? The look on the mother’s face as she recalled the last time she saw her daughter shows up in his mind. The complete and utter despair seared into his brain, making his chest burn with guilt.
This should’ve been solved ages ago, Harry thought bitterly as he hung up his damp coat. He could apparate in the house, but he needed to cool himself down in the rain before coming home. He refuses to let this wave of darkness enter his home; it’s supposed to be his reprieve from his failure as someone who’s supposed to protect the innocent.
“Ginny?” Harry steps into the cozy living room, scourifying his shoes before stepping onto the carpet. Normally, his house soothed him. The books littering the floor, the fireplace, and the ever-growing portraits hung around the room, but not today. Today, the house felt suffocating, constraining, accusing. He rubs his chest to calm the burn building inside it and walks around looking for Ginny.
“In here, Harry!” Ginny calls from the kitchen. Moving through the living room to the kitchen, he was greeted by Ginny’s smile. His chest loosens a little at it, and he gives Ginny a lingering hello kiss, wrapping one hand around her waist and the other on the counter, boxing her in.
“Easy there, love. Plenty of time for that after dinner. How was work?” Ginny pulls his wandering hand from her and threads her fingers through his. She gazes at him, her eyes darting like she normally does when he returns home from work. Satisfied with her inspection, she meets his eyes, probing his mind.
“Terrible, we’re nowhere near where we should be. We’re haven’t made even a little bit of headway.” Harry shares, sighing frustratedly. Ginny nods in sympathy, rubbing his hand with thumb, quiet and discerning. She understands his need to save everyone, but more so to spare the victims any pain that these horrific situations often subject them to.
“Well, letters from the kids finally came in today. You would’ve thought we asked them to create a new spell with how awful they been at writing us,” Ginny steps away to sit down on the stool, grabbing the letters to open. Harry follows her and takes the spot next to her, “I thought we’d open them together.”
Ginny opens the first letter from Lily Luna and holds it between them. She was enjoying her first year at Hogwarts and asked why she couldn’t go to Hogsmeade, “All the boys are going, it isn’t like I wouldn’t be protected. I’ve tried explaining that to Headmaster McGonagall, but she absolutely refuses. It’s rubbish.” Her brothers bring her sweets and lollipops from Zonko’s, but she wanted to experience it for herself.
“You would think she’d be grateful she gets anything at all, seeing as she has family getting her sweets.” Ginny snorts sarcastically.
Harry smiles, his chest swelling with pride at how well adjusted she seemed to be. One of his worst fears is that his children would feel lonely in school, but reading her letter, he felt a knot loosen in his body. She’s faring much better than he did, and he was proud of her for it.
The next letter from James was short and sweet, straight to the point. The kids were fine, and classes were going smoothly. More importantly, he wasn’t getting into too much trouble. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to study just as hard as I play,” was his attempt at reassuring his parents. Harry laughs, and Ginny shakes her head, a smile fighting to break through.
“Harry, he’s gonna be the reason I have complete grey hairs by 40.” Harry laughs again, this time his head thrown back, and rubs his wife’s back reassuringly.
“I’ll still love you, old ma’am,” Harry teases, ducking from the swing coming his way. His smile abruptly ends as Ginny grabs the last letter. His heart pounds, and he wipes his hands on his thighs to hold the letter Ginny passes to him.
Albus’ letter.
The tension between Albus and Harry dissipated a little over winter break, but he still hasn’t addressed his father directly in the letters. He steels himself and opens the letter, reading it as fast as he can. He slumps against the table, dropping his head on his hand, and rubbing his eyes so hard that stars burst out of the dark sight.
“Harry, I’m sorry, but it’s some progress. He asked about your well-being.” Ginny attempts to comfort a hurting father, rubbing his back while slowly removing the letter held loosely in his hand. Albus hadn’t addressed him, but asked “if he’s okay. Is he making headway with the missing Muggleborns? The news just reached us here in Hogwarts. It was all anyone was talking about in Hogsmeade.”
Harry gets up clumsily, knocking over the stool, and rubs his chest, the suffocating tightness returning with a vengeance. This time, worse than before. He doesn’t feel Ginny’s hand on his shoulder until she tightens it to get his attention. He flinches instinctively, moving away from her. Ginny’s hand freezes mid-air where his shoulder had been, and her worry intensifies to distress.
“Harry, Albus’ll come around,” Ginny treads cautiously. She knew how internal Harry can get when he feels any overwhelming emotion, “You know how he gets with his grudges. He’s gonna find a new girl to crush on, and everything will be rainbows and sunshine for him.” Ginny finishes with a wry grin, taking a step towards him cautiously. Harry sees her effort and closes the gap. He cups her face with his hand, feeling complete guilt at worrying her.
“I’m sorry, I just feel so useless with this case and now with Albus…” Harry drifts off before continuing, “I need some air. Save me a plate of dinner, and I’ll have it when I get home. I’ll be back by 11.” Harry kisses Ginny. It was an apology for his behavior and his avoidance.
He leaves the house, grabbing the coat he had just taken off, and apparates outside the recently opened tavern in Knockturn Alley.
That letter from Albus had been the final straw. He feels this intense and irrational anger at his youngest son. It’s immature and wrong, and the guilt is what led to his now 3rd glass of firewhiskey. That fuels the ever-growing irrational anger until his anger is pulsing.
Why did he say that? Why did I respond that way? Why can’t I just give my kids the affection that they deserve?
Harry puts his head in his hands and pulls as his thoughts grow darker and darker still: self-inflicting hatred for his lack of ability to show love to his kids. He wants to be more than what he was, but every time he tries to convey a sense of love, it comes out awkward and stilted.
James rolls it off his back, understanding his emotionally stunted father. Lily-Luna intuitively feels her father’s love and hugs him to cut off his stammering, but Albus. Albus, his boy. His sweet and sensitive boy is perhaps too much like him.
He inherits Harry’s ability to internalize everything his father does and says as a critique of him. It angers Harry, frustrates him; the day they had their worst fight, Harry slammed the door and apparated to the Forest of Dean. Depulsoing a couple of dozen logs made the heat in his throat lessen. He thought he had contained his guilt and fury that day. But that day, not one Auror besides Ron seemed to interact with him.
Leaning back against the bench, Harry groans and rubs his eyes shut.
“Are you trying to imitate a Qilin, Harry Potter?” A soothing, lilting voice interrupts his pity party. Harry’s eyes flew open, and he smiled instinctively at the welcome sight.
“Luna! I was just thinking of writing to you sometime.” Harry gestures for her to sit and calls for the barkeep to give another glass of firewhiskey and a butterbeer.
“Thank you, Harry. I shouldn’t drink or eat anything buttery today while the full moon is out. The smell often irritates the werewolves,” Luna starts, sitting down next to him, “And I would love to receive a letter from you, not today, I hope, as the full moon often brings out a certain truth that many people avoid about themselves.” Harry snorts and taps his finger on the table while his other hand is over the bench behind her shoulder. The anxious movement betrays his cool stance. Luna can speak absolute nonsense yet hit the bullseye every time.
“Well, ah, I was just gonna ask about the twins: to see how they were faring at Hogwarts. Lily-Luna seems to take everything in stride, thank Merlin.” Harry muttered, finishing off his glass.
“That probably makes you feel a great sense of relief, doesn’t it?” Luna gazes at him, her eyes unassuming and her voice utterly soothing. He shakes his head, smiling wryly. Only Luna can say what I can’t bring myself to.
“I do. She’s faring much better than I’d hoped for.” Maybe because she’s his only daughter, or maybe she looks just like her mother did in her first year when she got possessed by a malevolent maniac, but his worry for her exceeded that of his worry for her brothers tenfold.
“Well, Harry Potter, my twins are in Ravenclaw, and they love the columns and walls of the school. They whisper to them the way they used to whisper to me, which is nice considering sometimes those whispers were all the friends that I had.” Luna’s tone was matter-of-fact. Luna always has a way of dropping a heartbreaking fact about herself with absolute ease, but Harry knew Luna much better now to hear the undertone of sorrow. Harry’s body tightens, thinking of little Luna: all alone, isolated from students, and he had been one of them.
“Well, those kids were all assholes and self-centered to ever ignore you, Luna Lovegood,” Harry responds, his voice hoarse from intense feelings of anger at himself and anger at others for ignoring her for her uniqueness; for calling it strange and weird.
The table descends into a quiet contemplation: Luna in complete peace as if the conversation had never happened, looking around the tavern in observant boredom, and Harry lost in his own thoughts again, of self-inflicting hate. Harry feels a hand on his, and he meets Luna’s eyes. They dart to his hand where they are balled up into fists, and uncurled them. He flips his hand and holds Luna’s, squeezing slightly, and meets her eyes again. Her gaze was patient, knowing, and slightly amused. She’s reading him like the open book that he is, and his cheeks burn a little.
“Harry, leave the past in the past. I never cared what people thought of me. It was really only the first year. I had only lost my mom 2 years previously, and Ginny wasn’t Ginny, so I truly had no one. It was better after that.” Luna's lilting voice never falters. Glasses floating over the table catch their eyes, and Luna removes her hand to grab them.
“I think you’re done drinking now, and we should probably leave this tavern. The energy here is feeding your darkness as well as feeding off of it. Come, we’ll go to my printing office for the Quibbler, it has a roof greenhouse with amazing plants, some even poisonous!”
Luna grabs Harry’s hand and pulls him from the booth. He smiles amusedly at her excitement.
“I haven’t seen the Quibblers’ office since you renovated it, so that sounds like a plan.” Harry gestures to the barkeep, who nods at him. They leave the tavern, and Luna grabs his arm more firmly and disapparate.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
The Quibblers’ office is very distinctly Luna. There are overgrown trees in each corner of the office with protective enchantments. Harry was unsure if that was legal to do, but he didn’t voice that. He knew Luna wouldn’t care to hear it. He observes the room carefully, trying to identify the renovations done to the place.
‘Harry, the wrackspurts are working overtime in your head. I’ll tell you what I’ve done with the office. You should give them a break.” Luna interrupts his look-over, almost sounding like she’s scolding him. He snaps his head to her with a hand to his hair and shrugs sheepishly.
“I’ve changed the carpets. Well, I removed them, actually, and installed real wooden floors made from the wood in the Forbidden Forest. Don’t worry, I’ve made sure the logs were entirely useless to the ecosystem before I moved them,” Luna justifies, misinterpreting Harry’s scrunched and concerned look.
“That’s not what I was w—”
“The desks were made more modern because my 2 employees were annoyed with the old wooden desks before.” Luna continues, her arms gesturing to the two sleek modern tables. They look totally out of place. At the mention of the employees, Harry whips his head to her, his eyebrow raises.
“When did you hire 2 more employees, I thought you had that manager Yana and that was it? I thought I told you to tell me who you were hiring so I can check them out and veto them?” He attempts to cool his tone, but his frustration is evident by the way Luna stops and looks to him. She tilts her head in confusion.
“Well, yes you offered but i thought you were being ‘Polite Harry’ rather than sincere. Besides, the new employees are my kids.” Luna supplies, turning away from him to continue the tour, leaving Harry in a whirlwind of emotions. He was upset that Luna thought he was insincere in his offer, and amused at her kids being the new employees. He puts his hands on his hips and looks up at the ceiling trying to conceal a huge smile. He lets out a laugh immediately as paintings of wrackspurts seem to greet him.
Looking at her in front of him, still talking away, he shakes his head exasperatedly.
“What am I going to do with you, Luna Lovegood?”
“You could listen to me explain the renovations instead of standing there being pensive,” Luna replied, turning to stare at him, her gaze intentionally blank. He puts his hands up in surrender, giving her a grin. When her gaze narrows, his grin turns into his signature smile. Luna’s eyes relax, and she stares at him for a few long moments. For the first time, Harry sees something other than boredom and intrigue in her eyes. Before he could decipher, her eyes turned dreamy again, and gestures for him to follow her as she moves towards the stairs on the side of the office.
“Let me show you the greenhouse. Most of the poisonous plants sleep during the full moon, so we should be good for the time being.” Luna disappears out the door and harry follows cautiously.
“And the rest that don’t sleep on the full moon?” Harry asks, looking up the stairs, skeptically.
“Don’t worry, they won’t bite,” Luna reassures, confident in her knowledge. Harry relaxes or attempts to relax by rolling his shoulders and taking deep breaths. He would rather duel with dark wizards all day than roam around a greenhouse: wizards are predictable, plants were not.
“They spit their poison rather, but I think it’s a great deal easier to duck from a spit rather than pulling away from a bite.” Harry freezes in his tracks, his body turning cold just as Luna opens the door. She looks back, and a beaming smile lights her face.
“Harry, I was joking. The remaining plants get a calming solution that allows them to be relaxed and docile.” Luna laughs her tinkling laugh and floats away. Harry is dumbfounded by the last 10 seconds of his life.
Did she just make a joke? At my expense? Harry shakes his head, chuckling. Her smile and laugh made it worth the utter fear racing through him at that moment.
Harry follows her as she explains each plant: when they arrived and how long she can keep them before turning them over to a ministry-mandated greenhouse. They stay for a little longer than necessary before making their way back down. Luna immediately walks to the makeshift kitchen, putting a kettle on. The basket of herbs on the counter is in her hands, and she gestures for Harry to sit.
Harry braces himself for whatever wacky concoction she’s going to make this time.
“Don’t worry, Harry. The tea that I’m making is utterly normal. It’s a mix of herbs that people don’t normally pair but Rolf loved this pairing and I’d imagine you too.” Luna’s casual mention of Rolf has Harry watch her intently. She never disclosed why they divorced with anyone. The most she shared was there were different people, but whenever Harry tried to pry, she calmly changed the subject. Even Harry knew that meant the conversation was over.
However, Harry had a feeling. He had a feeling that Rolf hurt her, not physically but emotionally. Luna’s loyalty knows no bounds, and he knew something immense had to happen for her to part ways with anyone, but especially her husband. He theorizes that she was keeping the peace as to not burden her twins. The zip from the palms of his hands jolted him. He relaxes his fists, and looks down to stare at them. They have indents where his nails burrowed in, and the surrounding were pink from the intrusion. He looks up at Luna, seeing her grab tea cups from the cupboard under the mini stove, and relaxes. She didn’t notice.
“How is co-parenting going with Rolf, anyway?” Harry asks as casually as he could.
“It’s going well. He came over for Christmas Eve, and he was very kind and thoughtful. He even gave me a gift. It was dust from a moon-fairy tribe. It was kept in a pretty jar.” Luna was also casual in her recounting of events. Harry’s skin crawled at the thought of Rolf gifting Luna anything. More than that, guilt finds him once again because he never partakes in Luna’s gifts from his house. Ginny just writes “From the Potter family, we love you!” on the gift wrapping somewhere.
“Did you give him anything in return?” Harry asks, almost dreading the answer.
“Yes, an advanced copy of Field Studies from his favorite magizoologist, Archbald Eagleton.”
Luna sets the tea on the circular, wooden table along with a small pot of sugar and a glass of cream. Harry braces himself before tasting the tea. To his immense relief and surprise, the tea was really good. His face must have betrayed his emotions because Luna’s eyes glittered with amusement. He shrugs sheepishly before putting a small teaspoon of sugar into his tea, then placing it back in the sugar. Luna tastes the tea herself and dumps two heaping teaspoons of sugar in her tea before tasting it again. She nods, leaning back against the chair, quiet and pensive.
Harry, taking her lead, leans back taking a sip of the weirdly wonderful tea before placing it on his thigh, the heat of the tea cup oddly soothes him. He stares straight ahead and just lives in the moment.
One thing about Luna, she never needs to fill the silence. He remembers the days when he would stand in the astronomy tower, often alone and always in some kind of mood. He would come out of his head to find Luna standing to him, quiet. She would look to him without judgement. At first, she would just nod and walk off, but then conversations flowed.
It was often him venting and raging at the injustice of it all.
“Why me, Luna? What do I have that no one does, besides this never-ending anger and pain?”
“Why not you, Harry Potter? Maybe the universe saw something that no one sees, maybe it’s a privilege few are given to have that light shined on you. Who are we in the grand scheme of things?”
Sometimes, rarely, she would bring up her mom. On the anniversary of her death, Harry found her first at the Atronomy Tower. She was sitting down, looking up at the night sky. Her face devastated him, she looked lost for the first time since he’d known her. He remember moving to sit next to her, hoping his presence would alleviate some of the pain she must be feeling.
“Do you believe that the people we love who die turn into stars, Harry?”
“I don’t know what I believe about life after death besides the obvious. But sometimes, when I’m missing my parents or Sirius. I look up and count all the stars in the night sky and imagine that that’s the amount of times they told they loved me that day. It gets tiring once you reach triple digits but it’s the good kind of tire. The one where you wake up feeling better than you did going to sleep.”
Luna held his hand and squeezed in thanks before letting go, and they both watched the dark sky for hours before calling it in for the night. He remembered her sweet “Thank you, Harry Potter, for being my friend.” He remembers feeling really good about himself, for the first time in a long while.
Looking at Luna, who also seems lost in her own thoughts, he realizes a similar expression is on her face: lost. He doesn’t know what to say, so he looks around, trying to find inspiration when his eyes settle on the modern desks in the middle of the room.
“Luna, why did you not hire employees or come to me, or Hermione, or Ginny to help with vetoing candidates?” Luna looks at the desks with a wistful expression.
“Well, my father never really had employees; he didn’t even have a manager, as I do. I was his manager, his editor, and his journalist as well. He only had editors here and there, and he never paid them. He gifted them his homemade concoctions. One was so angry that Daddy had to buy a bottle of firewhiskey to appease him.” Luna smiles at the thought, a pensive look comes on her face, and she turns to Harry with a curious expression on her face.
“Harry, why were you at the tavern today? Were you celebrating something?” Harry straightens and stutters out a half-baked lie while Luna continues to look at him or through him. Stopping his sentence, he sighs and leans forward, placing the empty cup on the table. He puts his head in his hands and takes a deep breath shakily. The feelings of despair, anger, and fury are coming back, making him shake in repressed emotion.
He feels Luna’s hand gently move his from his head, placing her palm on it, and she squeezes his wrist. He meets her eyes to see her glistening with concern and patience.
“Harry, are you okay?” he chuckles darkly. She didn’t ask what happened. Luna never pries. Her patience is never ending. He gets up, removing his hand from under hers and paces. His thoughts raced on what to tell her and how much. He could feel her patient stare as he worked out his disorganized thoughts, turning towards her.
He tells her everything, about the case and the letters from the kids, and more importantly from Albus. He tells her of his rage and guilt and anger. Through it all, Luna never looks at him with disgust or judgement, she just nods along.
“Harry, feel free to complete ignore me as if I were a wrackspurt, but what caused the tension between you and Albus?” Luna asks after 4 minutes of suffocating silence once he finishes.
Harry shakes his head frantically and walks away to the middle of the office floor.
“I can’t. It’s too painful. I feel so guilty. I didn’t mean it. I was so angry at him. I was so angry at what he said. The audacity that he had, and the audacity that I had. Luna, the guilt that I feel chokes me whenever I think of it,” Harry pauses in his frantic speech to look at her. His eyes were wide, making him look like the boy he used to when Hogwarts was his only home.
“I don’t want you to see me differently.” Harry finishes, whispering a fear he never knew he had because Luna can’t judge him, he can’t lose her. Hearing light footsteps, he looks up and a wave of shock passes through him.
Luna’s eyes were filled with tears.
He never saw them filled with tears. Ever.
“Luna?” Harry whispered, stepping closer to her. His heart breaks as a tear falls down her cheek, she wipes it, composing herself. The tremble on her lips betray her.
“Rolf is an amazing father. He loves his boys, he really does. I don't know if you remember, I had complications early on in the pregnancy. I woke up to Rolf shaking me awake, telling me I needed to go to Saint Mungo’s. I didn’t understand until I felt a puddle of blood and a wave of dizziness when I lifted myself up with my arms.” Luna sees Harry nod his head at the memory.
“I remember Nev’s floo call, rushing to the hospital with Ginny and seeing Rolf beside himself,” Harry supplies. Luna nods hesitantly and continues.
“I don’t think I ever shared this with you guys, but I almost died. My boys were almost certainly dead and I was after them. The healers still don’t understand how we survived considering they had to use almost all of their blood-replenshing potions to get there.”
Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His heart pounded at the implication that he was feet away from a dying Luna and he didn’t know.
Luna could’ve died. I could’ve lost her and I didn't know. I was right outside the door and I didn't know. Harry's breath shudders at what could’ve been. He feels sick to his stomach at the thought of hearing those words from her healer. Shaking his head, he looks at her and nods.
“That was the context, a few months before the divorce, he had a lot to drink and he was rambling. I found it cute until he made a confession. He never really wanted kids at first. He wanted to travel the world and discover creatures. He had planned on a very long expedition to China before he met me and he held them off. He fell in love and had intended for me to go with him on this long expedition but I became pregnant with the twins. He started to feel resentment, not towards me but towards the boys for taking his dream away. That night, he noticed the bleeding earlier than he said and he… he let it happen for some time before waking me up. He told me he regretted waiting as soon as he saw how sick I looked. He regrets everything, but he had these big feelings, this resentment and I didn't know. I swear I didn't. I thought I knew him, but after that I couldn’t stay. We went to mind healers and I just couldn’t see myself with him anymore. I’m their mother and the biggest threat during my pregnanacy wasn’t the bleeding, it was their father. How can I be with him after that? How did I not notice his feelings? I swear I thought I knew I swear I thought I did.”
Luna holds her mouth shut as a whimper comes out of her. Harry pulls her in his arms in an instant. Her whimpers turn into heartbreaking sobs as she slumps against him. He wraps his arms tighter, almost painfully, his own eyes burning from tears threatening to come down. He doesn’t say anything. He couldn’t even think. He just held her as she broke apart and would hold her as she pieces herself together.
If he thought he was feeling rage before, the rage he’s feeling now in indescribable. It has him shaking. He attempts to control it, to be there for her. He closes his eyes and thinks of every good thing he has.
After a long while, Luna pulls back slowly, and Harry loosen his hold reluctantly. She looks up at him, her eyes glistening and as she tries to control her breathing again. Every deep breath that she takes an involuntary string of gasping ones follow it, and Harry’s arms tighten even more. Harry wants to kill Rolf. He wants to Crucio him to insanity and throw every dark spell he knows at him.
“Luna, you are the best mother to those boys. Whenever you drop them off to Grimmauld Place, they ask for you the minute you close the door behind you. You are the strongest person I know and the most intuitive. You know how to solve things outside the box before anyone even figures out what the box is. Luna Lovegood, you are my very best friend and things are quieter with you. Do you know? Do you really know?” Harry is whispering by the end, dropping his head to keep her eye contact so she knows that every word out of his mouth was true and sincere. Luna drops her forehead on his chest, and nods hesitantly. Harry rests his chin on her head, taking deep and long breaths, letting her woody, fresh, and lilac scent calm him. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he starts speaking, his voice muffled by her hair.
“I told Albus that I wished he wasn’t my son.” Harry confesses, letting tears roll down his cheeks into her hair. He never feels so terrified to confess something to a friend. He feels her moving her head up and he pulls back to meet her gaze. This time, her expression was a familiar one: soft, knowing, understanding.
“You, Harry Potter, are not a bad person or a bad father. Sometimes a person says something so against their beliefs because they want the oppressive darkness to flee before it permanently mars their soul. You understood that Albus and yourself were heading down a dark path together, and you wanted to save him. Sometimes you throw yourself into the fire to keep everyone warm. You wanted to spare Albus that pain. Hopefully, Albus understands and comes to that conclusion on his own.”
Luna’s statement eases his mind somewhat. She rests her head on his chest again and they stand there swaying.
They stood there a long while, allowing the silence to soothe the pain and the guilt. Luna breaks the silence with a murmur, “Besides he’s very bright, he found an infestation of Horklump in my garden before I could. That’s someone who’s very intuitive.”
Harry laughs, feeling better every second he stands there with her. Luna pulls back to say something else, her lips accidentally brushing Harry’s. They both freeze.
Harry’s eyes darts to her lips, and he feels a burn in his chest, this time not from rage or guilt, but from desire. He concentrates on being still as he can be. Then he meets her eyes again, and the desire burns him to his toes: her wide, doe eyes staring back at him. He brushes their lips again and her eyes widen even more.
Their magic was pulsing around them, enticing them to take the plunge. Harry never felt this much desire for one person.
“Harry, Ginny.” Luna murmurs, breaking his trance. He gasps and stumbles away from her. His heart pounds at what almost occurred.
What did I just do? What did I want to do? He’s in complete and utter agony. The guilt nearly chokes him. Looking up, he sees Luna looking much more composed than he did but her eyes betrayed her. Her eyes crinkle and glean with tears.
All of a sudden, he stood up straight, his mind focused on one thing: not losing her.
“Tell me I didn’t lose you.” Harry pleads, taking a step forward. Luna doesn’t move but her foot is behind her, ready. Harry feels as if he had been crucioed by Bellatrix ten times over at the move.
“Luna, please. Please, tell me I didn’t lose you?” He takes a step closer, this time more cautiously, his voice dripping with the desperation he felt.
Luna stares at him in response. Stares at him until he feels his knees ache from his stillness but he doesn't move.
He needs her.
Finding whatever she needed to find in his gaze, she nods slowly. The relief he feels is staggering, almost taking him to the ground from how hard his knees tremble, Luna moves forward but he holds his hand up. Luna steps back and he meets her gaze, this time more composed.
“Luna, you are my very best friend and your quiet eases my mind.” Harry doesn’t lose eye contact with her. She needs to understand, they can’t change. Maybe in another universe or life but they only have this one.
Luna then smiles. A beautiful dreamy smile, one that takes his breath away.
“Of course, Harry. And you are my very best friend and you are my anchor.”
And just like that, they were back to Harry and Luna.
Nodding his head with tears threatening to choke him, he moves to leave. Luna rushes to hug from behind, squeezing before letting go.
“You can apparate. I’ve allowed you, Ginny, Hermione, Ron and Neville permission to apparate in and out of these walls.” Luna said. Harry nods again, this time smiling and turns, apparating back to the front of his house.
The rain soaks him immediately, soothing him. He steps up to his door and pauses a little. He turns and raises his wand, muttering a spell and a blue stag flows from his wand. He says a few words and lowers his wand. He feels much better having done that. He opens the door to his house again, feeling raw with lingering guilt and an underlying peace.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
Luna releases a deep trembling breath once Harry disapparates. She moves robotically to the stairs, reaching the greenhouse. She moves past it to the door that leads to only open space in the roof. She contemplates what occurred this evening.
She felt exposed. No one ever saw this side of her. This side that she tries so hard to overcome, and sometimes ignore.
Looking up at the full moon, she feels the wetness of her eyes. She closes them and takes a deep breath. A few more slip out. The earlier bite of loneliness creeping back.
Opening her eyes, a stag is in front of her. Her heart leaps.
“Luna Lovegood, never forget, you are my peace.”
The stag evaporates and she smiles, the relenting wave of loneliness pouring out of her.
“Harry Potter, you are so weird.” She laughs and stares at the sky until the moon disappears.