Happy holidays dichana!
Title: Ring Across the Snow
Author: Anony Mouse
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Luna
Rating: PG
Words: 1138
Summary: It snows in Luna's house on New Year's Eve.
A/N: For dichana, who wanted Harry/Luna and snowflakes. Happy New Year!
Ring Across the Snow
It was close to midnight. The stars were obscured by clouds, and by his wandlight Harry could see snowflakes falling, gently. He'd Apparated into the front garden, right down under the trees hung heavy with mistletoe, and it was luck, not planning - definitely not planning - that had kept him from landing on anything strange or prickly or poisonous.
Every door and window that he could see stood wide open. The last time he'd been to the Lovegoods' house the place had fallen down around him, literally, the day Luna's father had told them about the Deathly Hallows and nearly given them to the Death Eaters in an attempt to get his daughter back. The Erumpent horn had blown out a huge chunk of the wall, but that was fixed, now. Not perfectly, not seamlessly, even though magic could have done it. There was a thick black crack running through the stone, showing the fault line, the place where things had broken once.
Harry liked that about the Lovegoods - they chose to see everything. Good and bad, things they understood, things they didn't. Everything.
Craning his neck, Harry looked all the way up the tower. Luna's room was right at the top and he had a sudden flash of her as Rapunzel, hair flowing down, himself climbing up, up, up to see her. Not that he had any real need to avoid Luna's father; Xenophilius would remember very little from that day thanks to Hermione's memory charm, probably just the fear, the desperation, the destruction. And Harry had forgiven him a long time ago. He knew what it was to want to protect those you loved.
He wondered if Luna knew the old story: Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair. Most witches and wizards wouldn't, they had little time for Muggle fairytales that starred them as the villains, but Luna was always different, Luna was never most.
A pointless little flight of fancy, with the iron-studded front door open in invitation. Harry walked in.
It was snowing inside the house as well, fat thick flakes. Every surface was dusted, the kitchen table, the jelly cupboard, the black iron stove, and under his feet it was at least an inch deep. He glanced up, wondering if they'd gone so far as to not repair the ceiling, but it looked solid, intact - just with snow falling through it.
Luna was suddenly there at his elbow, in a long, flowing ice-blue dress, holding two steaming mugs. "Chocolate marshwater, Harry?"
"Er - yes. Thanks." It smelled like chocolate tinged with sea, and tasted like - well, probably best not to dwell. Harry drank politely, straining the liquid slightly through his teeth.
Luna sipped from her own mug, her eyes never leaving his face. The light in the room came from the fire in the hearth, and candles lit in the strangest places - on the floor near a milk crate, tucked into the lintel of the door, in the well of the sink. Harry stood in shadow, but he knew she saw him clearly.
He lowered his mug, shifting his grip. "So, erm. Happy New Year?"
"Why yes," Luna said. "I do hope so."
"I was at the Weasleys'," Harry said, as if it were an explanation. It could be half of one, maybe. It didn't cover why he'd left because he didn't really know. The family party had been in full swing. Everyone having fun and looking very determined to have fun, urging midnight on, ready to see in a better year than the one on its way out.
"And now you're here," Luna said. Her smile was a warm thing, bright as any candle.
"Yeah." It was much quieter at Luna's, even with the constant rhythmic thump of the Quibbler press overhead, and the old Victrola over against the curved wall of the kitchen, playing a song he'd never heard before.
Was that why he'd come here? Peace, quiet? She had given him those things before, when he'd needed them. He remembered her standing on a chair, causing a distraction just for him, letting him slip away after the fight with Voldemort. He was surprised at how much it bothered him, the thought that he might be using her to get something - peace, quiet, a distraction - now.
Harry looked up at the ceiling again, the snow still falling through it. "Do you let it rain in here as well?"
"No, we never have. Parchment doesn't like water, you know. But it won't mind the snow too badly, and it's just for tonight."
Harry tried to think like Luna, tried to spot the reason. "Tonight. New Year's. You open everything to... make certain the New Year knows it's welcome?"
"Oh, you came so close!" Her eyes danced, proud. "To make the New Year welcome. Just a few words' difference. Although it means a completely different thing, I think. What do you think?"
He considered. "Yeah, I suppose it does." This would be the first true year of Harry's life without Voldemort anywhere in it. The Weasleys had their party, Luna her snow; he had no gestures ready. He would be leaving a lot behind when the clock struck - the horrors would be easy, the people he loved and missed so much harder.
Luna was staring at him again.
"Do you think it's happened yet?" Harry asked. He didn't know if he wanted her to say yes, didn't know if he wanted her to say no.
Luna tilted her head; Harry imagined her listening to the world turn. "Almost."
There were wet splotches on Harry's glasses from the snowflakes that he'd done nothing to dry off. One landed on Luna's cheek now, delicate. And - maybe he'd been waiting to do this, he didn't know, like everything else tonight, he didn't think about it, just acted - Harry pinned it there with a spell.
"There. That's," he struggled, "nice."
Luna was considering this carefully, her brow creasing. "Is it?"
No. It was beautiful, it was perfect, it was fitting, this tiny, unique thing catching the candlelight, glittering on her cheek. He was the one staring now, entranced by what he saw in front of him, new.
And he shook himself, and thought like Luna. It was wrong. Snowflakes weren't meant to last. Like the year, like life, they were supposed to burn away, supposed to melt. Supposed to be perfect for a little while, supposed to change.
Harry brushed a thumb over her cheek, and let it go.
"Luna," Harry said. "I think I know why I came."
"Oh good," Luna said. "I've been looking forward to this bit."
Her mouth was warm, and her tongue tickled his teeth: unexpected but he liked it, a lot.
Author: Anony Mouse
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Luna
Rating: PG
Words: 1138
Summary: It snows in Luna's house on New Year's Eve.
A/N: For dichana, who wanted Harry/Luna and snowflakes. Happy New Year!
Ring Across the Snow
It was close to midnight. The stars were obscured by clouds, and by his wandlight Harry could see snowflakes falling, gently. He'd Apparated into the front garden, right down under the trees hung heavy with mistletoe, and it was luck, not planning - definitely not planning - that had kept him from landing on anything strange or prickly or poisonous.
Every door and window that he could see stood wide open. The last time he'd been to the Lovegoods' house the place had fallen down around him, literally, the day Luna's father had told them about the Deathly Hallows and nearly given them to the Death Eaters in an attempt to get his daughter back. The Erumpent horn had blown out a huge chunk of the wall, but that was fixed, now. Not perfectly, not seamlessly, even though magic could have done it. There was a thick black crack running through the stone, showing the fault line, the place where things had broken once.
Harry liked that about the Lovegoods - they chose to see everything. Good and bad, things they understood, things they didn't. Everything.
Craning his neck, Harry looked all the way up the tower. Luna's room was right at the top and he had a sudden flash of her as Rapunzel, hair flowing down, himself climbing up, up, up to see her. Not that he had any real need to avoid Luna's father; Xenophilius would remember very little from that day thanks to Hermione's memory charm, probably just the fear, the desperation, the destruction. And Harry had forgiven him a long time ago. He knew what it was to want to protect those you loved.
He wondered if Luna knew the old story: Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair. Most witches and wizards wouldn't, they had little time for Muggle fairytales that starred them as the villains, but Luna was always different, Luna was never most.
A pointless little flight of fancy, with the iron-studded front door open in invitation. Harry walked in.
It was snowing inside the house as well, fat thick flakes. Every surface was dusted, the kitchen table, the jelly cupboard, the black iron stove, and under his feet it was at least an inch deep. He glanced up, wondering if they'd gone so far as to not repair the ceiling, but it looked solid, intact - just with snow falling through it.
Luna was suddenly there at his elbow, in a long, flowing ice-blue dress, holding two steaming mugs. "Chocolate marshwater, Harry?"
"Er - yes. Thanks." It smelled like chocolate tinged with sea, and tasted like - well, probably best not to dwell. Harry drank politely, straining the liquid slightly through his teeth.
Luna sipped from her own mug, her eyes never leaving his face. The light in the room came from the fire in the hearth, and candles lit in the strangest places - on the floor near a milk crate, tucked into the lintel of the door, in the well of the sink. Harry stood in shadow, but he knew she saw him clearly.
He lowered his mug, shifting his grip. "So, erm. Happy New Year?"
"Why yes," Luna said. "I do hope so."
"I was at the Weasleys'," Harry said, as if it were an explanation. It could be half of one, maybe. It didn't cover why he'd left because he didn't really know. The family party had been in full swing. Everyone having fun and looking very determined to have fun, urging midnight on, ready to see in a better year than the one on its way out.
"And now you're here," Luna said. Her smile was a warm thing, bright as any candle.
"Yeah." It was much quieter at Luna's, even with the constant rhythmic thump of the Quibbler press overhead, and the old Victrola over against the curved wall of the kitchen, playing a song he'd never heard before.
Was that why he'd come here? Peace, quiet? She had given him those things before, when he'd needed them. He remembered her standing on a chair, causing a distraction just for him, letting him slip away after the fight with Voldemort. He was surprised at how much it bothered him, the thought that he might be using her to get something - peace, quiet, a distraction - now.
Harry looked up at the ceiling again, the snow still falling through it. "Do you let it rain in here as well?"
"No, we never have. Parchment doesn't like water, you know. But it won't mind the snow too badly, and it's just for tonight."
Harry tried to think like Luna, tried to spot the reason. "Tonight. New Year's. You open everything to... make certain the New Year knows it's welcome?"
"Oh, you came so close!" Her eyes danced, proud. "To make the New Year welcome. Just a few words' difference. Although it means a completely different thing, I think. What do you think?"
He considered. "Yeah, I suppose it does." This would be the first true year of Harry's life without Voldemort anywhere in it. The Weasleys had their party, Luna her snow; he had no gestures ready. He would be leaving a lot behind when the clock struck - the horrors would be easy, the people he loved and missed so much harder.
Luna was staring at him again.
"Do you think it's happened yet?" Harry asked. He didn't know if he wanted her to say yes, didn't know if he wanted her to say no.
Luna tilted her head; Harry imagined her listening to the world turn. "Almost."
There were wet splotches on Harry's glasses from the snowflakes that he'd done nothing to dry off. One landed on Luna's cheek now, delicate. And - maybe he'd been waiting to do this, he didn't know, like everything else tonight, he didn't think about it, just acted - Harry pinned it there with a spell.
"There. That's," he struggled, "nice."
Luna was considering this carefully, her brow creasing. "Is it?"
No. It was beautiful, it was perfect, it was fitting, this tiny, unique thing catching the candlelight, glittering on her cheek. He was the one staring now, entranced by what he saw in front of him, new.
And he shook himself, and thought like Luna. It was wrong. Snowflakes weren't meant to last. Like the year, like life, they were supposed to burn away, supposed to melt. Supposed to be perfect for a little while, supposed to change.
Harry brushed a thumb over her cheek, and let it go.
"Luna," Harry said. "I think I know why I came."
"Oh good," Luna said. "I've been looking forward to this bit."
Her mouth was warm, and her tongue tickled his teeth: unexpected but he liked it, a lot.