acidpop25: "Laughing," PG-13 (Luna/Padma)
Title: Laughing
Author: acidpop25
Rating: PG-13
Prompt Set: 100.1
Prompt: #18, "Laugh"
Word Count: 289
Summary: "She was laughing."
Warnings: character death
Notes: Luna/Padma
She was laughing in the sun.
“Padma, Padma, look!” she squealed, and I followed her (I always followed her) out into the field. Running, running through the tall grass (“A prarie, Padma!”), pollen tickling at my nose and earth warm beneath my feet.
“What is it?”
“Shh!” she admonished, as if she herself hadn’t been shouting not a moment before. “A Humdinger!” Luna said in a stage whisper, and pointed at the stalk of a bright red flower. There was something there, miniscule and greenish-brown, the same colour as the half-dead plants in the field, with too-large ears and eyes (eyes not so different from hers, if hers were brown).
“How did you spot that?”
“Silly Padma,” she giggled, “he hummed my name.” (Humdingers do that, if you listen.)
Laughter, floating down the hall to my dormitory.
“Who is that laughing?” Mandy whispered, green eyes wide and fearful. You didn’t make noise, not if you wanted to live. Even the castle wasn’t safe, not anymore.
“I don’t know,” I lied, because I did, and I left my dorm (“Padma, be careful!”).
Luna was lying on her bed, a comic open in front of her, laughing like anything, and for a moment I wondered if maybe she wasn’t more than just eccentric, after all. If maybe she really was loony (Loony Luna Lovegood; alliteration; repetition of consonants).
“Luna?”
“Padma, hello!”
“Why are you laughing?”
She looked at me, then, like... like I was the one out of my mind. “They hate laughter like they hate everything else. If we don’t laugh, we’re letting them have what they want.” (Take away my humanity, will you? I think not!)
She was laughing, she was laughing…
She was laughing as she died.
(Goodbye.)
Author: acidpop25
Rating: PG-13
Prompt Set: 100.1
Prompt: #18, "Laugh"
Word Count: 289
Summary: "She was laughing."
Warnings: character death
Notes: Luna/Padma
She was laughing in the sun.
“Padma, Padma, look!” she squealed, and I followed her (I always followed her) out into the field. Running, running through the tall grass (“A prarie, Padma!”), pollen tickling at my nose and earth warm beneath my feet.
“What is it?”
“Shh!” she admonished, as if she herself hadn’t been shouting not a moment before. “A Humdinger!” Luna said in a stage whisper, and pointed at the stalk of a bright red flower. There was something there, miniscule and greenish-brown, the same colour as the half-dead plants in the field, with too-large ears and eyes (eyes not so different from hers, if hers were brown).
“How did you spot that?”
“Silly Padma,” she giggled, “he hummed my name.” (Humdingers do that, if you listen.)
Laughter, floating down the hall to my dormitory.
“Who is that laughing?” Mandy whispered, green eyes wide and fearful. You didn’t make noise, not if you wanted to live. Even the castle wasn’t safe, not anymore.
“I don’t know,” I lied, because I did, and I left my dorm (“Padma, be careful!”).
Luna was lying on her bed, a comic open in front of her, laughing like anything, and for a moment I wondered if maybe she wasn’t more than just eccentric, after all. If maybe she really was loony (Loony Luna Lovegood; alliteration; repetition of consonants).
“Luna?”
“Padma, hello!”
“Why are you laughing?”
She looked at me, then, like... like I was the one out of my mind. “They hate laughter like they hate everything else. If we don’t laugh, we’re letting them have what they want.” (Take away my humanity, will you? I think not!)
She was laughing, she was laughing…
She was laughing as she died.
(Goodbye.)