London Rain (Harry/Luna)

Sep 06, 2004 21:34

Title: London Rain
Author: Tonya (_fullofgrace)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry/Luna
Disclaimer: No own. No sue.
Summary: All Luna wanted was for the storm to roll over.


*********

And when somebody knows you well
Well there's no comfort like that
And when somebody needs you
Well there's no drug like that
So keep me, keep me
In your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
--London Rain by Heather Nova

********

Luna laid in bed, listening to the sound of thunder rumbling somewhere off in the distance. Curled up under her warm sheets, her eyes trained on her window across the way, she tried to remember the way her father had taught her to calculate how far away the storm was. It involved something with the lightning and the amount of time before you heard the crack of thunder, but tonight she was too tired to think of such things.

Tonight, she simply wanted the storm to roll over her.

The weather had been unpleasant for more days than she could count, which she found ironically appropriate given the events that had been occurring.

It had only been a week since the second war had come to an end. For a while, she had been quite certain that the end would never come. The second war had come to Hogwarts’ doorstep during her fifth year, during Harry Potter’s sixth. And four years and many deaths later, it had finally ended with a victory for the side of light.

A hollow victory, Luna had always believed. They’d lost many through those four years. Professors. Friends. Family. There was not one person remaining who could say that they hadn’t been touched by death during it all. Everyone had lost someone. Luna had lost her first real best friend-- Ginny Weasley. The vibrant redhead never even made it to her own graduation, dying just months prior during the final trip to Hogsmeade of the year. The last trip to Hogsmeade Headmaster Dumbledore would ever allow for the safety of his students.

Not only had Ronald lost his sister during the war, but he had lost his father as well. Mr. Weasley had died the third year into the war as he and a handful of the Order members were ambushed by Death Eaters. Tonks, who Luna had only had the pleasure of meeting once during a holiday dinner, had perished as well.

Hermione had also lost parents to violence. Both, in fact. She had been spending more time away from her muggle world in order to help Harry fight his battle, and her parents, lovely people that they were, wanted to be where their daughter was. Luna remembered hearing Hermione tell her parents that things were getting quite volatile and that it probably wasn’t the best idea to be in the wizarding world for the time being, but they would not hear of it. They died the summer after Hermione’s seventh year as they were in Diagon Alley, looking for a belated graduation gift for their daughter. Luna was quite certain that they never saw the faces of the people who claimed their lives. The Death Eaters had a tendency to enjoy killing you when you least expected it, when your guard was down or your back was turned.

Through it all, Luna couldn’t help but think that Harry had lost the most. He’d always felt that this was his battle, that his friends shouldn’t be involved. But there had been no way he could have stopped any of them from marching onto the battleground with him. His friends would die for him, for his cause, and that had always been a overwhelming burden for him to carry.

She always wondered about him, how he was doing, but she knew that to ask him if he were okay would be a silly question. He wasn’t okay. He was far from okay. They all were. So she never asked the question that haunted her mind. She simply stayed by his side. Offering her ear when he needed someone to listen. Offering her arms when he needed to be consoled. Offering her presence when he just needed someone to be.

Her friendship with Harry had grown since her fourth year at Hogwarts, when she had helped him and his friends on their botched attempt to save his godfather. Grown into what, she had never been quite sure. She supposed she would call it a relationship though neither of them had actually thought to use the word. They had crossed paths, had found a kindred spirit, during dark times, and those dark times had had a tendency to overshadow everything. Even the status of a relationship.

The past four years of Luna’s life had been filled with blood and loss and hurt and pain. And him.

The only light in the darkness.

And she knew she was his. He had told her so during the previous holidays when things had seemed at their worse for everyone.

A soft knocking sound echoed through Luna’s flat, pulling her from her thoughts. She stayed curled up under her blankets for a moment longer, watching a sharp flash of lightning illuminate her room for a split second. When the knocking came again, she tossed back the covers and made her way to the door.

If Luna could ever believe that a person could actually feel their heart shatter into jagged pieces, she would have felt it in the moment she opened her door to greet her visitor.

Harry stood on her doorstep, drenched by the summer rain. His clothes were soaked through, clinging to him like a second skin. His normally unruly, wild hair slicked down from the onslaught from the downpour, water dripping from his bangs and onto his glasses.

He looked on the verge of breaking down on her doorstep, and he opened his mouth to say what had happened to bring him to her in such a fashion. But Luna shook her head, already knowing what he would say. In response, his mouth closed and his head lowered.

She gently took hold of his arm and pulled him into the flat, shutting and locking the door securely (like she had learned to do methodically after hearing that Neville Longbottom had been killed in his own flat the previous year). Not caring that he was dripping all over her nicely-kept carpet, she led him towards her bedroom. She left him standing at the foot of her bed as she went to retrieve a towel from her bathroom. Once she returned, she helped him to peel off all his wet clothing.

They stood in silence as she helped him undress, and only when she had finally gotten him down to his boxers and socks, did he finally try to speak again. “Luna…I….”

Luna shook her head softly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Harry.”

Harry replied with a nod, and Luna smiled sadly at him. He took the towel from her hands and began to roughly dry his hair, trying to rid himself of the last remnants of rain. When he finished, Luna took the towel from his hands and carried it to her hamper in her closet as Harry removed his damp socks and boxers and climbed into the warmth of her bed.

With a heavy sigh, she climbed in behind him. She pulled her body as close to his that she could, wrapping a protective arm around him as they laid spooned together. He was shivering more than she thought one person could, and she hoped that between her own body warmth and her blankets, he would warm up soon.

Luna lost track of how long they laid together in silence, the storm still rumbling outside her window. For a moment she thought he had drifted into a much needed slumber but then he spoke, his voice as shaky as his body had been when they had first climbed into bed.

“I need to tell Hermione that he--”

He censored himself. He did that often, Luna had learned, when he didn’t want to believe something could actually be true. As if that by not saying it, it would make it all a horrible nightmare. Normally it was times like these, times when he was faced with another death of someone close to him.

Tonight, she knew exactly for whom he censored himself.

Tonight, he censored himself for Ronald.

Ronald had not been an instant casualty like all the others. Injured badly during the final moments of battle, he had been sent to St. Mungo’s with the other wounded and dying. They had tried everything they could to bring him back around, to at least bring him back to a conscious state, but it had seemed that nothing would work. But even as the healers warned of odds and statistics, they had all held to the hope that he would pull through. That he would wake up, offer his trademark goofy grin, and ask for all the meals he had missed while unconscious.

Tonight, the last of the hope had finally disappeared into the stormy night.

Her chin buried in the crook of Harry’s shoulder, Luna spoke gently into his ear. “I can tell her.”

Harry nodded against her pillow, intertwining his fingers with hers. After a moment, he brought their mingled hands up to his face and gently kissed her fingers. “You’re always my light,” he said, his breath warm against her fingers.

Luna smiled sadly, laying a tender kiss on his shoulder. “And you’re mine.”

He gave her hand a soft squeeze, sighing deeply. Luna laid silently behind him, listening to his breathing. Only when she heard the familiar sound of his quiet, rhythmic snoring did she finally allow herself to cry for him.

Entangled with the body of the man she’d loved, her light, since her Hogwarts days, she cried for them and everything and everyone they had lost to the darkness.

The thunder continued to rumble loudly outside her window, and tonight, Luna would have given anything to simply have the storm roll over her.

--end
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