The Other Really Late Mod Post
Title: Charade
Author: Goldy
Prompt: Harry’s having nightmares. What does Luna do to help?
Summary: Only Ginny Weasley would decide to have a wedding at the height of the war.
Other Pairings: Neville/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, strong Harry/Hermione friendship. Yes, I did write Ron/Hermione. Feel free to fall over and die from a heart attack, thx.
Warnings: Character death.
Word Count: 1,006
Rating: PG
Dedication: This is for heron_advocate. Happy birthday, sweetie! I know I’m a week late. *hangs head in shame* I, um, decided to work your request into my prompt-hence, this doesn’t really follow the prompt, like, at all, but I hope you like it.
Only Ginny Weasley would decide to have a wedding at the height of the war.
“Well,” she told Harry, her eyes challenging. “Bill did it, didn’t he? Why can’t I?”
They all tried to tell her that things had been different then. The Ministry and the Order had still been in control and, besides, they needed to boost morale. After Dumbledore…
Ginny scoffed, sticking stubbornly to her resolution. “We need morale now,” she said. “What better way to show Voldemort he can shove his broomstick up his arse?”
Harry grinned, Ron sputtered, and Hermione looked disapproving, but Ginny got her way, as she always seemed to do.
The wedding seemed to go off without a hitch. Ginny looked beautiful-everyone said so. Neville looked like he might vomit, but that was no surprise. Mrs. Weasley sobbed. Mr. Weasley rushed around, dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief, and making sure everyone found their seats.
And Harry didn’t think he’d seen a more depressing event.
The ceremony seemed more like a dream than reality. Every other seat was empty and the guests sat hunched over, their shoulders tense. They were all waiting for the next disaster.
“It’s more like a funeral than a fucking celebration,” Ron mumbled at one point. “We’re all too bloody busy thinking about who’s missing.”
“Ron, hush,” Hermione whispered, watching Harry’s face.
Harry scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to smile. “Yeah, I’m alright.”
Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. Harry ignored them. The soonest chance he got, he disappeared into a corner by himself. He nursed a glass of champagne and watched the wedding guests carry out a charade of happiness.
Ginny’s beaming face was the center of attention and Neville trailed along behind her in a daze. Ron and Hermione were trying to dance, but Ron kept stepping on Hermione’s toes. At least they’re not fighting, Harry thought. Thankfully, the war had mellowed them, turning their sometimes-relationship into something less tumultuous.
He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, glad that everyone was giving him a wide birth. Tomorrow-tomorrow he would go back to Grimmauld Place, meet with Lupin, and head out to the Azure Coast of France. Another chance for a Horcrux. Another chance to get closer to finishing Voldemort.
“How are you doing?”
Hermione’s voice was gentle. When Harry glanced up, he could tell that she knew what was on his mind. He shrugged and stared blankly ahead.
“You’re having nightmares again, aren’t you?”
“Don’t I always?”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
Harry reached into his pocket and drew out the wedding invitation. The edges were trimmed with gold. We cordially invited you to the wedding of Neville Longbottom and Ginevra Weasley…
He tossed it on to the table before looking back at Hermione. “We were supposed to come here together, me and Luna. Out in the open and all. She said I oughtn’t hide her.”
“She was right,” Hermione said softly.
Harry snorted. “Yeah, right. That worked out brilliantly.”
“That wasn’t your fault, Harry.”
Harry swallowed. “Go back to dancing, Hermione.”
“Oh!” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Do you honestly believe that sitting here feeling sorry for yourself is what she’d have wanted for you?”
“Dunno,” he said. “But I reckon I either sit here and feel sorry for myself or go mad. Don’t much fancy the second one. Besides, I have an early start tomorrow, remember?”
Hermione’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Harry. I just wanted…”
“I know.”
She bit her lip, looking anxious. “Can I…?”
“No.”
Hermione didn’t look like she was going to leave, so Harry tipped his chair back and gestured to Ginny and Neville. “They look happy together, don’t they? It’s good. He can give her something I never could.”
“Oh, Harry, that’s not-”
“It is too true. Ginny always wanted to see me as something I wasn’t. Luna never did, you know? I don’t-I don’t know many people who can make that kind of distinction. She always seemed to know what to say when the nightmares got the worst of-”
His voice caught. He took the invitation and shoved it back in his pocket. “I’m going to go home. Tell Ginny congratulations for me, will you?”
Hermione looked startled. “You’re leaving? But-oh, Harry-do you think you should be alone right now?”
“I think it’s what I need, honestly.”
“Do you want Ron and I to-”
“No, stay. You two deserve it. Feed each other cake and look adoringly into each other’s eyes.”
Hermione humphed and muttered something that sounded like “hardly.”
“You’d think I’d be used to it by now, wouldn’t you? Losing people, I mean.” Harry brooded over that for a moment. “Funny thing is, seems to get worse each time.”
“Maybe it’s who you’re losing, Harry.”
He stood. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Hermione wrung her hands together and took a step towards him before jerking back. “You won’t do anything reckless, will you?”
“You mean like go after the Dark Lord by myself?” Harry said bitterly. “Not now, at any rate.” He paused. “But one day, it’ll happen. He keeps giving me more reasons, the more people he takes.”
Hermione gave a rather loud sniff and covered her mouth with her hands. Harry gave her an exasperated look, so she gave him a quick hug and hurried away.
The party was beginning to mellow. On the dance floor, Harry could see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Fleur, and Hermione gripping Ron tightly about the neck. Ginny looked radiant as Neville swung her around.
A large feeling of sadness welled in his chest and he hurried away, ducking out of sight. He could still remember what Luna's lips tasted like on that last night they spent together. A kiss would help him sleep better, she said. She'd read about it.
The pain threatened to burst then, so he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Luna’s voice sprang to life in his head and he could almost see her, with her head cocked to the side and her corkscrew earrings swinging back and forth.
In that room with the archway. They were just lurking out of sight, that’s all. You heard them.
She always did know what to say to make him feel better.
End
A/N: Yes, heron_advocate's request was to kill Harry and/or Luna. *sniffs*