Drabbletag - Owls
Title: Correspondence
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Owls
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ginny/Luna
Rating: G
Word count: 250
The way Fred and George look at her is far too shrewd for Ginny’s liking. But she’s had plenty of practice when it comes to looking nonchalant, lying without words.
She accepts the owl casually, takes the letter and tosses it into her book bag. Goes back to chatting with the others, and after a while the twins turn their attention elsewhere, apparently satisfied there’s no great mystery to their little sister receiving messages in the middle of the afternoon.
And that night, when Ginny’s safely under the covers with the curtains pulled around her bed, she can finally unfold the letter. She can finally sigh over the looping scrawl of Luna’s handwriting, growing lost in the beauty of her words.
Luna writes of autumn leaves and Ginny’s hair, of sunlight and smiles, of the softness of their kisses and the passion of their hearts. She writes fairytales with herself and Ginny as princesses, as knights, as dragons, she writes myths and legends that make Ginny grin and bite her lip, snuggled within the circle of light from her wand.
She rereads the letter over and over until the words blur from tiredness, and she dreams of Luna’s eyes and the touch of her hand.
In the morning she’ll send her response by owl. She’ll never be as eloquent as Luna, but Luna calls Ginny’s writing the purest of poetry in that earnest way she has.
The school owls have learned to recognise her, she visits the Owlery so often.
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Owls
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ginny/Luna
Rating: G
Word count: 250
The way Fred and George look at her is far too shrewd for Ginny’s liking. But she’s had plenty of practice when it comes to looking nonchalant, lying without words.
She accepts the owl casually, takes the letter and tosses it into her book bag. Goes back to chatting with the others, and after a while the twins turn their attention elsewhere, apparently satisfied there’s no great mystery to their little sister receiving messages in the middle of the afternoon.
And that night, when Ginny’s safely under the covers with the curtains pulled around her bed, she can finally unfold the letter. She can finally sigh over the looping scrawl of Luna’s handwriting, growing lost in the beauty of her words.
Luna writes of autumn leaves and Ginny’s hair, of sunlight and smiles, of the softness of their kisses and the passion of their hearts. She writes fairytales with herself and Ginny as princesses, as knights, as dragons, she writes myths and legends that make Ginny grin and bite her lip, snuggled within the circle of light from her wand.
She rereads the letter over and over until the words blur from tiredness, and she dreams of Luna’s eyes and the touch of her hand.
In the morning she’ll send her response by owl. She’ll never be as eloquent as Luna, but Luna calls Ginny’s writing the purest of poetry in that earnest way she has.
The school owls have learned to recognise her, she visits the Owlery so often.