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The first time Harry came across Luna while, unconsciously, searching for a place to be alone, he turned around and left before she noticed him.
A week later, she was the one who found him.
Harry was sitting beneath a tree facing the Whomping Willow, lost in thought, yet he noticed her presence almost immediately. Luna walked silently, but she wore earrings shaped like moth wings. The sound they made was nearly imperceptible, but he had become conditioned to notice every noise.
His fingers tightened around the wand resting across his leg, but he forced them to relax as soon as he recognized who it was. Harry had no idea how Luna had found him there, though he didn't bother asking.
She stopped a few steps away, without coming any closer. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed that she wasn't even looking at him; she was only watching the Willow. He wasn't sure whether he should say something. The discomfort twisted in his stomach and stiffened his shoulders.
The silence didn't last long, though. After a few moments, without saying a single word, Luna simply turned around and walked away the same way she had come.
It would have been strange, if it hadn't been Luna Lovegood.
The thought almost made him smile.
Two days later, Harry made his way to the Owlery after spending a long time listening to his dormmates snore. He only realized he'd left his cloak behind when he started climbing the stairs. Curfew had long since passed, but he kept going anyway. Honestly, he couldn't bring himself to care.
As he stepped inside, he was surprised to find someone already there.
His first instinct was to draw his wand and take a step back, but the almost-white blonde hair drifting in the night breeze made his mind relax.
It wasn't a threat.
— It's only me.
Luna's soft, melodic voice reached him, though she hadn't moved from the window where she sat, looking out over the Hogwarts grounds.
Harry wasn't sure whether she knew it was him.
— I know.
He finally answered once his body had accepted there was no danger.
Even so, he remained standing in the doorway.
He wasn't entirely sure why he'd come to the Owlery in the first place. He didn't even have an owl. Hedwig's absence was still far too great for him to imagine replacing her. He only knew he'd been looking for a place where he could be alone—and that place was already occupied.
Luna remained seated, without looking at him, as though his presence didn't bother her in the slightest.
Even so, Harry didn't go in.
He simply stood there, watching the ends of her hair brush against the stone ledge and the large pom-pom on her purple hat sway gently in the breeze. He couldn't have said whether he stayed there for one minute or ten, but when an owl let out a loud screech, making him flinch, he turned around and headed back to the dormitory.
The next time Luna found him, Harry was sitting on the windowsill in a fifth-floor corridor. She stopped in front of the next window over and remained there, looking out at the gardens.
He felt quietly relieved when she didn't sit beside him. He still hadn't completely rid himself of the tension he felt whenever people got too close.
— It's going to rain.
She said it after a while.
— The sky is blue.
Harry replied, watching the only two white clouds scattered across the horizon.
— The sky is always blue.
— Not when it's about to rain.
— Especially when it's raining.
Harry wondered whether he should keep arguing, but Luna continued before he had the chance.
— Above the rain clouds, the sky is still blue. We're just the ones who can't see it.
For a moment, he wondered whether, above the dark clouds that had seemed to cover his life for so long, that blue sky was still there too.
He didn't answer.
He simply kept looking at the sky.
Hours later, as he returned to the dormitory after the last class of the day, he heard rain drumming against the stained-glass windows in the corridor.
It was raining.
Two weeks passed before Luna found him again.
Not that Harry had been hiding.
After dinner, he'd wandered aimlessly to the fountain in the inner courtyard, ignoring the biting cold, and sat there watching the castle's shadows stretch across the stone.
The place was almost silent. Every now and then, distant laughter drifted through the corridors into the courtyard, disappearing as quickly as it had come.
Harry held his wand between his fingers, trying not to tighten his grip every time a sound broke the silence. It was an exercise he'd been failing ever since returning to Hogwarts.
Then he heard soft footsteps approaching.
Before he even looked up, Luna's voice reached him.
— It's only me.
— I know.
— You don't have to grip your wand.
She had stopped on the other side of the fountain and was watching him with her usual calmness.
— I'm not.
He lied.
— You always are.
Harry felt the heat of embarrassment creep across his face.
— Why are you here?
He asked, changing the subject before she could press any further.
Luna gave a small shrug.
— Sometimes I'm afraid of the dark.
She said it so casually, as though it weren't a confession at all.
Harry watched her for a moment. Her robes rippled gently in the wind, and her posture remained calm, almost unshakable. It was strange to imagine Luna being afraid of anything. She always seemed so certain. So whole.
Realizing that the war had left scars on her too filled him with an unexpected sadness.
Without another word, Luna sat down on the opposite side of the fountain, leaving only her profile turned toward Harry. She watched the castle's shadows for a while before lifting her eyes to the sky.
It seemed the conversation was over.
Even so, Harry kept looking at her.
When he realized it, he quickly looked away, searching for anything else to focus on. Luna's presence no longer unsettled him the way it once had, but it still didn't allow him to relax completely.
After a while, she stood, brushed the dust from her robes, and walked away without saying goodbye.
As though it were the most natural thing in the world.
It wasn't until much later, back in the dormitory, that Harry realized he couldn't relax even when he was alone.
A few days later, Harry found Luna in the clearing where the Thestrals usually gathered. She was alone, sitting on a colorful blanket with a notebook resting on her lap, yet completely still.
It was the first time Harry had entered the Forbidden Forest since the end of the war. It had taken him months to gather the courage, and now he could feel his hands trembling while a familiar nausea churned in his stomach.
Finding Luna there brought him a sense of comfort he wouldn't fully recognize until days later.
Instead of turning around, he stepped into the clearing and walked toward her.
Luna looked up from her notebook and watched him approach with quiet curiosity.
— Hello, Harry Potter.
— Hi, Luna.
— Would you like to sit down? — she asked, gesturing to the blanket spread across the grass.
— Thanks.
Harry sat down before he even had the chance to wonder why he was staying.
— I'm waiting for the Thestrals. What about you?
— Just wandering around.
Luna nodded, as though that were a perfectly good answer.
Harry wasn't entirely sure why he had decided to enter the forest that morning either. He only knew he felt strangely relieved that he hadn't walked to the clearing where Voldemort had killed him.
After a few moments, Luna broke the silence.
— You're very brave to come here.
— I don't feel brave.
The answer escaped before he had time to think.
— That's usually how it feels when we're trying to be brave.
She said it with such certainty that Harry found himself believing she had to be right.
— Here.
She opened the bag next to her and took out a small package of pudding. She held it out to Harry with a slight smile on her lips, and even though Harry still felt a little queasy, he accepted it.
His fingers trembled as he tried to peel back the lid, but Luna didn't comment. She simply turned her attention back to her notebook and began to draw.
Harry ate the pudding slowly while watching the sketch take shape. The scratching of her quill against the paper, mixed with the rustling leaves stirred by the wind, gradually eased the trembling in his hands.
Little by little, his body relaxed.
Luna kept drawing, filling one page after another, completely absorbed in what she was doing.
For a moment, Harry wondered whether she was doing it because she'd realized the silence helped him relax.
Or whether that was simply how she existed in the world.
By the time they left the forest, Harry realized coming back hadn't been nearly as terrible as he'd imagined.
On a Sunday morning, Luna found him again, this time in one of the gardens east of the castle.
As he watched her approach, Harry found himself thinking about all of their encounters.
It felt as though an invisible thread kept leading one of them to the other.
Or perhaps Hogwarts had simply become too small.
He sat on a stone bench, clutching his coat tighter around himself in a futile attempt to keep out the autumn cold.
The moment he heard footsteps approaching, he knew it was Luna without even looking.
No one walked like she did.
There was a gentleness to her footsteps, as though she took care not to hurt the ground.
— It's quite cold here.
She commented without bothering to greet him.
Harry watched as she sat on the bench beside his, even though there was still plenty of room on the one he occupied.
At that moment, he realized Luna was very good at respecting other people's space.
— It's warmer inside the castle.
The moment the words left his mouth, he wondered whether they might sound like he was telling her to leave.
But Luna simply replied:
— There are too many people in there.
— There usually are.
— There are more on Sundays.
— I think that's unlikely.
— Probability is overrated.
Harry barely managed to hold back a smile.
Luna blew warm air into her gloves while studying a rosebush withered by the cold.
Each glove was a different color, and her coat seemed covered in tiny hand-stitched embroideries. Harry couldn't tell whether they were flies or bees.
Maybe both.
She didn't ask what he was doing there. He didn't ask how she always managed to find him.
The two of them sat in silence, letting nothing but the sound of leaves skittering across the ground in the wind fill the space between them. It was comforting that it wasn't complete silence.
He thought he might have been more uneasy if it had been.
After a long while, Harry stood.
— I think I need a cup of tea.
— It certainly seems that way.
— Seems? — he asked, frowning somewhere between amusement and confusion.
— Yes. You seem very cold on the inside. Maybe tea will help. Or maybe it won't.
The matter-of-fact way she said it left him speechless for a moment.
How did she always manage to notice the things no one else seemed to see?
— Are you coming? — he asked after a moment.
— Not yet.
She offered no explanation.
She remained where she was, watching a small whirlwind of dry leaves dance across the stone path.
Harry stayed a moment longer, quietly taking in the calm expression on her face.
Then he left.
The tea was excellent. But it didn't warm him from the inside. Not in the way Luna seemed to think he needed.
It took another two weeks before they met again. Harry didn't spend every moment alone expecting Luna to appear. Or maybe he did. He wasn't entirely sure.
When he made his way to the Astronomy Tower on a Thursday night, well past midnight, Harry had already accepted that there was no reasonable explanation for his late-night escapes from the dormitory.
Sometimes, he simply needed to breathe.
He stepped through the tower door hoping the memories would hurt a little less this time.
Luna's pale hair greeted him like a flag of peace.
She was sitting on the parapet, gazing up at the bright moon.
— I was wondering when you'd come.
She spoke as soon as he stopped in the doorway.
— I didn't know you were here.
He answered, as though defending himself, even though she hadn't accused him of anything.
— No, of course you didn't. If you had, you wouldn't have come.
Harry remained silent.
Wouldn't he?
Maybe she was right.
Maybe she wasn't.
Without another word, he walked over and sat beside her on the parapet. Carefully leaving the familiar space that always existed between them.
The sky was clear. Thousands of stars surrounded the moon, and despite the cold, there was almost no wind.
Harry took a deep breath.
As though, only in that moment, he had truly taken his first real breath of the entire day.
The two of them remained silent, and somehow that had become natural. He wasn't tense anymore, wondering whether he should come up with something to say. By now, he knew Luna didn't care about that. She never seemed to expect it from him. She was perfectly content saying nothing at all.
After a while, Luna slipped a hand into her robes and pulled out two Chocolate Frogs.
— Want one?
— Isn't it a little late to be eating chocolate?
She tilted her head thoughtfully.
— Is there a proper time to eat chocolate? No one ever told me.
Harry smiled.
— No. I don't think there is.
He took one of the frogs.
— That's a relief. I've eaten lots of them at this hour.
They opened the wrappers almost at the same time.
— Do you have trouble sleeping? — Harry asked.
— No. I like how the world feels a little suspended at this hour.
— Suspended?
— Yes. Most people are asleep, and everything becomes quieter. As though the world were waiting for them to wake up.
Harry frowned slightly.
— But it isn't waiting.
— No. It just moves more gently, as though it's trying not to wake anyone.
Harry spent a few moments chewing his chocolate.
He had never thought about the night that way.
— I think you're right.
Luna smiled faintly.
— What about you?
— Me?
— Do you have trouble sleeping?
— No.
Luna turned her gaze back to the grounds, leaving him room to continue—or not.
— I need to breathe.
He spoke after a pause that had gone on far too long.
She didn't look at him.
— Then breathe.
And that was exactly what Harry did.
He sat there, breathing.
Letting the cold air fill his lungs while his thoughts wandered without clinging to any particular memory.
For the first time in a long while, that felt like enough.
The next time they met, Harry was sitting beneath the same tree, watching the Whomping Willow.
That part of the castle was almost always deserted and, despite everything, it was there that he had first met Sirius.
This time, when he heard soft footsteps approaching, his body didn't react with tension.
He had already learned to recognize Luna before he even saw her. No matter where they were.
She walked over and, without ceremony, sat down beside him, leaving the familiar space between them.
— I'd like to sit underneath the Willow.
Harry glanced at the branches swaying lazily overhead.
— Only if you want to be crushed.
— Sitting on her roots without asking permission seems a little rude.
Harry let out a quiet laugh.
— Do you think she'd hear us if we asked?
Luna rested a finger against her lower lip and studied the Willow with deep concentration.
— I think we'd have to become friends with her first.
— How would we do that?
— I'm not entirely sure... but maybe by talking to her.
Harry pictured Luna standing in front of the Whomping Willow, carrying on a conversation with it as though it were an old friend.
He smiled before he even realized it.
It seemed exactly like something she would do.
— I think you might be right.
Luna smiled, satisfied, and leaned back against the tree trunk. She looked perfectly content to be there, and Harry realized he was too. He didn't know how or why they always seemed to find each other, but somehow these encounters had become familiar.
— I like it here. — Luna said.
— Me too. Hardly anyone comes here. I like the silence.
She tilted her head slightly.
— Then I suppose I'm ruining the very thing you like most.
Even though she was smiling, she started to get to her feet.
Harry immediately felt his chest tighten.
— That's not what I meant.
— I know.
Even so, she brushed the dust from her robes.
Harry wished he could take the words back before they had ever left his mouth.
— You don't have to go.
Luna looked at him again.
— Why are you here?
— Here?
— Yes.
— On Earth, at Hogwarts, or underneath this tree?
The corner of her mouth lifted.
So did his.
— I was thinking about the tree... but I think the other options are good too.
Harry turned his gaze back to the Willow.
Maybe he came back because of guilt. Maybe because he missed Sirius. Maybe because this place still made him feel close to him. Or because, despite everything, the Willow still reminded him of a time when flying cars existed and magic had seemed simply... magical.
The words escaped before he could put them in order.
— Guilt. Longing. Hope.
The moment he finished speaking, he felt strangely exposed.
Luna simply nodded.
Harry liked that about her.
She never seemed to ask for explanations greater than the ones he was able to give. Whatever answer he offered was enough for her.
— What about you? — he asked.
Harry studied her face carefully. Its delicate features. Its thoughtful expression.
— Because this is one part of the castle that doesn't seem to hide any scars from the war.
Harry was surprised by her answer.
He looked around. The tree was still standing. The grass was still growing. The wind still moved through the branches. She was right. Only then did he realize that maybe that was exactly why he always ended up coming back.
— You're right.
Luna shifted, as though she were about to leave.
Acting on impulse, Harry reached out and took her hand.
— Stay.
The word came out quietly, almost shyly. He didn't even understand why he'd done it. For weeks, he had searched for places where he could be alone. Somewhere along the way, though, that solitude had come to include Luna.
She lowered her eyes to their joined hands. Harry almost let go. He could feel his ears burning, but his fingers remained where they were.
Luna didn't say anything. She simply sat back down beside him. The same space still existed between them. Only their hands no longer obeyed that rule.
Harry knew he should let go. But he didn't.
They remained there in silence. After a few moments, Luna gently intertwined her fingers with his.
And, for the first time since the war had ended, Harry realized that holding someone's hand no longer filled him with fear.
A few days later, they found each other again, this time at the edge of the forest.
Harry was sitting on a fallen log at a bend in the path where hardly anyone would notice him. The sun was slowly disappearing behind the mountains, painting the sky orange, and it had been a particularly difficult day.
There were days when simply existing hurt a little more.
He had left the castle intending to visit Hagrid, but changed his mind halfway there when he saw smoke rising from the chimney of the hut. He didn't want company. Not even Hagrid's. So he had kept walking without a destination until he found that log.
A little while later, he heard footsteps approaching along the path that led into the forest. He recognized them before he even thought about it.
He stood and walked a few steps between the trees. Farther ahead, a flash of pale blond hair appeared among the trunks.
— Luna!
The footsteps stopped.
— Harry? — she answered, her soft voice reaching him.
He walked toward her voice. Luna was only a few steps away. She wore a heavy winter coat and carried a bucket in one hand.
As he came closer, Harry looked inside.
— Meat for the Thestrals?
— Yes.
Without thinking, he held out a hand.
— May I?
She simply handed him the bucket.
The two of them followed the trail to the clearing.
That afternoon, three Thestrals were waiting for them.
Luna picked up a piece of meat and approached the first one. The creature let out a soft, contented snort before accepting the food. She gently stroked its neck before returning for another piece.
Harry simply watched.
The Thestrals were large, gaunt, and frightening to almost everyone. Luna, by contrast, looked small among them. Delicate. And yet, somehow, she seemed to belong there just as much as the creatures themselves.
— Don't you want to pet them?
She looked up at Harry while continuing to stroke one of the black necks.
Harry set the bucket aside and approached one of the Thestrals. The creature remained perfectly still as he reached out. Its skin was warm. Soft. Exactly as he remembered.
The forest was growing darker as the sun disappeared, but Luna didn't seem bothered by it.
Standing there, simply running his hand over the creatures, somehow eased the tightness in his chest. Maybe that was why Luna loved animals so much.
When the last piece of meat was gone, the Thestrals quietly disappeared among the trees, as silently as they had arrived.
Luna walked over to him.
— They like you.
Harry smiled faintly.
— They like the meat we brought.
Luna laughed softly.
— That too.
— Shall we go? We won't be able to see the trail much longer.
— Let's.
They walked side by side through the trees.
The silence was filled only by the wind rustling through the leaves and the occasional snap of a twig beneath their feet.
After a while, Luna asked,
— Where were you before you found me?
— Sitting at the edge of the forest.
She tilted her head.
— That's a new hiding place.
— I have to change things up every now and then.
Luna laughed.
— And yet we still found each other.
Harry smiled too.
— I was already expecting that.
She turned toward him, curiosity in her eyes.
— Were you expecting me?
Harry realized, far too late, the trap he had just walked into.
— No... I mean...
Luna waited.
— Not like that.
— Like what?
— As if... as if I wanted to find you. — he stammered.
— So you expected me to show up, but you didn't want me to?
Harry felt his face grow warm.
— No! I did.
Luna stopped as soon as they reached the edge of the forest.
She looked at him with the same curious expression she always wore.
— You're not being very clear, Harry.
He sighed.
She was right.
He wasn't making any sense.
— I know.
He spent a few moments searching for the right words.
— I just... I guess I already expected our paths to cross. It's been happening for so long...
Luna stayed quiet.
Then she asked, very simply,
— But did you want me to show up?
Harry's heart thudded against his ribs.
For some reason, answering felt important.
— I did. — he replied after a long pause.
A small smile brightened Luna's face.
Then she did something completely unexpected.
She stepped forward and hugged him. Her arms slipped gently around his neck as her head came to rest against his shoulder.
Harry froze. Every muscle in his body tensed on instinct. It had been so long. So long since someone had hugged him. Since someone had simply touched him.
— Luna?
— Hmm?
— You're hugging me.
— I know.
— Why?
She seemed to think about it for a moment.
— Because I want to.
That was it.
She wanted to.
For a second, Harry wondered if that was enough.
It was.
Slowly, still hesitant, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around her waist. He expected his heart to race. He expected the familiar discomfort. But neither came. Instead, the tension slipped from his shoulders.
His breathing slowed.
Luna's warmth seeped through their coats, and for the first time in a very long while, Harry realized he wasn't simply being touched. He was being held.
It felt good.
Very good.
He wondered why he had never done this before.
Why this felt like something he had always wanted, even if he'd never known it.
When Luna finally stepped back, it felt far too soon.
— You're very good at hugs, Harry. — she said with her usual innocent sincerity.
Harry didn't know what to say. He simply smiled, still a little dazed.
They walked back to the castle together and headed toward the Great Hall. They parted only when each turned toward their own House table.
Even lying in bed hours later, Harry could still feel the warmth of Luna's embrace.
Maybe Luna had been right. Hugs really were a good thing.
Harry thought about that hug for days.
Maybe that was why, the next time he saw Luna, it was the only thing he could think about.
— You're very pensive today.
Harry pulled his eyes away from the line between two bricks that he'd been staring at without truly seeing.
They were sitting on the staircase of one of the towers that was still closed off. Luna had found him only a few minutes after he'd settled there. According to her, she'd seen him crossing the corridor and decided to follow him.
— I always am.
— That's true. But today it's different.
— Different how?
— When you're thinking, you usually furrow your brow.
Harry reflexively raised a hand to his face.
The gesture made Luna laugh.
— Today it wasn't your brow. You were gripping your coat with your right hand.
He looked down at his hand.
He hadn't even noticed.
— How do you notice all those things?
The question was also an attempt to avoid the real subject.
Luna gave a small shrug.
— Because I watch you.
She said it with the effortless honesty of someone who saw nothing strange about admitting it.
Harry smiled.
— You're strange, Luna Lovegood.
He couldn't hide the affection in his voice.
She tilted her head.
— Did you figure that out while you were watching me too?
For a moment, Harry thought he caught a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.
— I didn't...
— You were.
She interrupted him with such certainty that there was no point denying it.
It was true.
Over the past few months, watching Luna had quietly become a habit.
He liked the little details that never seemed to change: her right eyebrow, slightly more arched than the left; the almost-white hairs that shaped them both; the delicate upturn of her nose; her small, heart-shaped mouth.
He realized he knew that face better than he had ever imagined.
He sighed.
— All right... I watch you too.
Luna smiled, looking pleased.
She didn't ask what he had been thinking about.
Harry silently thanked her for that.
Because he had been thinking about the hug.
He couldn't tell her that.
Or at least, that's what he believed.
— I was thinking about the hug.
The words escaped before he could stop them.
For a moment, he was certain his heart had stopped.
Luna, however, simply nodded.
— I've been thinking about it a lot too.
— You have?
— I have.
She turned her attention back to the window in front of them, as though that answered everything.
Harry waited.
When he realized she truly wasn't going to add anything else, he asked,
— And what do you think about?
She took a moment before answering.
— That I liked it.
Harry smiled, looking down at the step beneath his feet.
He had liked it too.
— And you?
— I liked it too.
He didn't dare look at her as he answered.
— Good.
She seemed genuinely happy to hear it.
Silence settled between them again.
Then Luna stood up.
— I think we should do it again.
Harry looked up, surprised.
— Now?
— Yes.
She thought for a moment.
— Unless you'd rather wait until it's time to leave.
Harry let out a quiet laugh.
The whole thing was wonderfully strange.
And at the same time, it made perfect sense.
He stood.
— We can do it now.
Luna didn't seem to think it was strange at all. She walked over to him without the slightest hint of embarrassment and wrapped her arms around him.
This time, Harry didn't hesitate. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. It felt just as good as the first time. Better, even. Because this time he noticed more than her warmth. He noticed the way she smelled. Soft. Gentle. Before he could stop himself, he buried his face in her hair.
Harry didn't care that they were standing in the middle of the night on a staircase that was supposed to be off-limits. He held her, and let her hold him, and it was the most real thing he had felt since the war.
He didn't want to let go. So he didn't. And the best part was that Luna held on just as tightly.
Time itself seemed to lose its importance.
They stayed in each other's arms long enough for Harry to become aware of every place where her body rested against his. Long enough for their breathing to fall into the same rhythm. Long enough for the hug to stop feeling like something new. And start feeling like somewhere he belonged. Long enough for it to become too long.
Long enough that they should have let go, even though neither of them wanted to.
Later that night, when they said goodbye and Luna was already walking down the corridor opposite his, she stopped and called his name.
Harry turned around and waited.
Her right foot traced small circles against the stone floor, and Harry realized she was nervous.
— I think we should do this more often.
Harry smiled before he even answered.
— I think so too.
She smiled back and skipped down the corridor.
Harry remained where he was, looking at the place where she had been only seconds earlier, a smile still lingering on his face.
He didn't want to think about what any of it might mean. He only wanted it to mean hugs. Not just any hugs. Hers. But hugs all the same.
After that night, hugs became a constant between them. Every time they met, there was a hug. At first, it happened when they were saying goodbye. But with time, they got past any lingering embarrassment, and they hugged as soon as they saw each other. Sometimes more than once.
Harry wasn't surprised the day Luna hugged him in the corridor between classes. He was surprised, though, the day he was the one who hugged her while they were walking to lunch.
His friends tried to ask about it, but he always gave the same answer.
— It's just a hug.
--
It had snowed that morning, but Harry brushed the snow off the stone bench in the garden behind the greenhouses.
Unlike every other time, when Luna arrived she didn't sit on the bench beside his.
Instead, she sat next to him on the very same bench.
— Ginny's dating someone. — she remarked as soon as she sat down.
— I know.
He did.
Ron had told him a few days earlier, worried Harry might be hurt.
But he wasn't.
Even though Ginny had been the one to end things, Harry had intended to do the same.
— You seem all right with that.
— I don't mind.
Luna turned to study him.
The tip of her nose and her cheeks were pink from the cold.
She looked beautiful.
— That's good. It would've been rather awkward if you still liked her.
— I don't.
He insisted.
Maybe he had once.
Now it felt like a memory that belonged to someone else.
Harry lowered his eyes to the small space that still separated them on the bench.
It was strange.
For months, that space had always been there.
Even after the hugs.
Even when they walked side by side.
There were always a few inches between them.
— Why is there always this space?
He was speaking more to himself than to her.
Even so, Luna answered.
— To respect your boundaries.
Harry remained silent for a few moments.
Then he asked,
— And yours?
— I've never minded being close to you.
She paused for a moment.
— But you did.
She was right.
All he had to do was look back. For a long time, anyone getting too close made his body tense. Any touch put him on alert. But that had changed. Not all at once. It had changed little by little. Through all those chance meetings. The silences. The strange conversations. The hugs.
Harry looked again at the small space between them. Suddenly, it felt completely unnecessary.
— I don't anymore.
She studied him carefully, as though trying to decipher him. Her attention made his cheeks warm.
He knew exactly what he had just said. Or rather, what he had really meant.
I don't mind being close to you anymore.
I want to be close to you.
A smile slowly spread across Luna's lips, as though she had read his mind. Even so, she didn't move.
She waited.
As she always did.
Harry felt his heart begin to race. Then he shifted a few inches across the bench, closing the distance between them. Luna simply waited, as though she knew he needed time to get used to it.
Time to be brave.
Harry could feel the warmth radiating from her. Their legs touched. So did their shoulders. It was only a little. But it still didn't feel like enough.
Honestly, he didn't know when that longing had begun.
Now, though, it felt as though he had waited far too long.
He slowly raised his right hand toward her face.
Luna watched him with quiet curiosity, doing nothing but waiting.
When the tips of his fingers brushed the side of her face, Harry felt his hand tremble. The warmth of that touch seemed to spread through his entire body. Carefully, he cupped her cheek in his palm and stroked her skin with his thumb. Almost shyly.
Luna closed her eyes for a moment.
She took a slow breath.
As though the gesture had reached her too.
When she opened them again, Harry found himself looking once more into those silver eyes threaded with delicate streaks of gray.
Without realizing it, he leaned closer.
Until their noses brushed.
— Harry... — she whispered.
— Yes.
— What are you doing?
He smiled. Because it was obvious.
— I'm going to kiss you.
— Oh...
Her eyes smiled before her lips did.
— Is that all right with you?
— Yes.
She paused briefly.
— Please.
Harry closed his eyes and crossed the last bit of distance between them.
Luna's lips were exactly as he had imagined.
Soft.
Warm.
The kiss began slowly, almost uncertainly.
Harry let his lips find hers without rushing, discovering their rhythm little by little. Luna answered in the same way, with a gentleness that seemed uniquely hers. When the kiss deepened, there was no urgency. Only discovery. As though they were learning each other.
When they finally pulled away, they were both still smiling.
— You're good at kissing too, Harry.
He laughed softly.
Then he wrapped his arms around her.
Sitting there, surrounded by snow, with Luna in his embrace, Harry realized that some parts of him had survived the war. Something beyond destruction.
All those unplanned encounters had slowly given him back the ability to trust. To relax. To want something beyond solitude.
Without realizing it, he had found someone.
Maybe she didn't know it, but Luna Lovegood—with her silences, her improbable observations, and her strange way of seeing the world—was giving Harry back a part of himself he had believed he'd lost forever.
Hope.