InsaneJournal

As the remaining DA members filed slowly and stealthily back to their common rooms and dormitories, Ginny Weasley remained standing, a solitary figure, in a shadowed corner of the Room of Requirement.

“You coming, Gin?” Neville asked as he turned his head.
“Yeah, I’m on my way,” Ginny replied hastily. In truth, she would not be returning to Gryffindor Tower soon: the wearisome worry of the war both inside and out of the Hogwarts castle walls weighed heavily on her mind.

And on her heart.

Satisfied with Ginny’s empty response, Neville departed the room, leaving his fellow Gryffindor to be alone with her tempestuous thoughts. Seemingly contented with her solitary situation, Ginny sunk to the floor. Sitting, she hitched her bony knees up to her chin and clasped them to her chest. Holding herself, Ginny rested her head on her knees and stared blankly ahead as thoughts of the future – or, rather, what would be left of the future – flooded her consciousness.

“Ginny?” an airy, enquiring voice suddenly pierced the darkness of Ginny’s mind. Startled, she jumped.
“Oh! Luna, what…what are you doing still here?”
“You seemed a little…” Luna began, her clear blue eyes gazing upwards, as though searching the ceiling for the right word, “distant,” she concluded with a wave of her hand and a gentle smile in Ginny’s direction.
“Oh,” Ginny answered, somewhat blankly. Looking up at Luna from her seated position on the floor, Ginny found a concerned, kind face staring back into her own freckled features: “And I thought I was hiding it so well,” Ginny concluded, scoffing derisively at herself.

Luna returned Ginny’s self-scorn with the same gentle smile that so frequently graced her soft, pink lips. “It’s alright, Ginny,” she said quietly as she, too, fell to her knees and seated herself beside Ginny on the floor.
Ginny exhaled deeply. “No, it probably isn’t Luna,” she sighed, “That’s why I…I just kind of needed to be alone for a little while tonight, yeah?”
“But I’m here,” Luna replied matter-of-factly.
“Well, yeah, I know. That’s what I’m – don’t take this the wrong way please, Luna just…would you mind maybe leaving me be for a little bit. Just a bit.”
“But we’re in the Room of Requirement.”
Ginny furrowed her brow in confusion, “Yeah, I,” she began, before Luna cut her off.
“Well, if you really needed to be alone, you would be, wouldn’t you? The Room would somehow make it so, wouldn’t it? That’s what it does, isn’t it?” Luna reasoned.
“Well, yeah but I…”
“So if I’m still here, with you, maybe you don’t need to be alone as you think, maybe you just need someone to talk to. At least,” Luna paused momentarily, placing her hand on Ginny’s slim, freckled forearm, “The Room seems to think so.”
Ginny could not suppress the beginnings of a smile on her lips as she listened to Luna’s theoretical ruminations.
“The Room, hey?” Ginny ventured, raising an eyebrow.
“I think so,” came the confident response from the Ravenclaw.
“Well,” Ginny sighed, conceding defeat in the face of Luna’s logic, “Who am I to argue with The Room?”

***

As the weeks passed, the storm of war raged on outside of the castle walls: the news never got any better. Death Eater attacks and the resulting murders were becoming more frequent. And now, not even the Ministry was immune to Voldemort’s powers – if it had, in fact, ever been.

Meetings of Dumbledore’s Army, too, increased: both in frequency and the number of fledgling witches and wizards who had taken up the cause, who had decided to fight: after all, what else could one do? And after each meeting, Ginny would remain behind, grasping desperately for a few moments peace.

Luna or, rather, the Room of Requirement, was having none of it. For each time that Ginny sought solace in the shadows of the hidden locale, Luna was there. Initially, this frustrated Ginny no end – all she had wanted was to be alone, to stew in her worried thoughts, to let the tears of fear cascade over her face in private.

And Luna had been there every time, preventing her from doing so.

At least, that was how it first seemed to Ginny.

Just as the walls of order, of all that was good and right crumbled outside Hogwarts, so did Ginny’s defences in time: soon, she simply became accustomed to Luna’s presence.

As the room emptied, Ginny would look for Luna. Walking slowly towards each other, the two young women would meet in the centre of the room. Luna would smile gently and, taking Ginny’s hand, sit cross-legged on the floor. Ginny would comply with Luna’s silent encouragement, and sit beside the misunderstood blonde. Sometimes, the two would sit in silence: Ginny would huddle close to Luna and simply cry, simply spill all the worry and hurt and fear over her crinkled Ravenclaw robes. She would cry for all that had happened, all that was happening and would happen. But most of all, she would cry for all that wouldn’t – would never – happen, as good witches and wizards succumbed to the violence and cruelty of Voldemort’s regime.

And she would cry for her family, for the daily dangers that Ron and Hermione faced, and for Harry.

“Ssh,” Luna would whisper, stroking Ginny’s hair, “he’s Harry Potter, he’ll be OK.”
“Will he?” Ginny asked, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, “I-I don’t know anymore, Luna…I-I just don’t know.”
Luna would continue to offer words of consolation, of comfort. And, stroking Ginny’s hair, and holding her close, Ginny’s fear would be placated.

It was, Ginny thought to herself, almost as though Luna was taking up all that Ginny worried and feared and cried over, balling it up and hiding it someplace: someplace in the ether of existence, or inside of herself, Ginny did not know.

Ginny did know, however, that in the time spent with Luna, her heart had lifted, and the weight no longer seemed quite so great.

***

Time wore on. War raged. The deaths mounted. So did the fear. The black shadow that seemed to hang tremulously over Hogwarts castle deepened. Amidst this darkness, Ginny clung to the light that Luna offered: she clung to the warmth, to the kindness.

To the friendship.

Indeed, Ginny realised, much to her own surprise, she had come to rely on her friendship with Luna. One evening, following the final meeting of Dumbledore’s Army prior to the Christmas holiday, as the two young women sat, conversing, Ginny wondered how she had ever done without the weird and wonderful Ravenclaw by her side.

As the thought struck her, Ginny sighed with a contentment that barely seemed possible in the middle of the current turmoil. Smiling to herself, Ginny lay back on the hard, stone floor. Placing her hands behind her head, she rested her skull in her cupped palms and closed her eyes.

Luna, still sitting, uncrossed her legs and stretched them out in front of her. In the momentary lull of the conversation, she inched across towards Ginny: although her movements were slow, there was no hesitance about them. She pressed her leg to Ginny’s, before gently running her bare foot along the inside of Ginny’s calf.

Ginny opened her eyes at the unexpected physical contact. She tried to ask what it was that Luna was doing, but her voice stuck in her throat. Instead, she sat up. Leaning back on the palms of her hands, Ginny watched Luna: she looked up through draped golden hair, waiting for Ginny’s response.

A stunned and silent Ginny waited: Luna responded by shifting closer still. Her leg was now between Ginny’s. Rolling slightly, Luna placed an arm across the youngest Weasley. Now on all fours, straddling Ginny’s leg, Luna leaned in slowly. Ginny’s chest rose and fell quickly in apprehension as Luna moved closer. Part of Ginny wanted to wriggle out from under her companion – or, rather, part of her felt that was what she should do – but she didn’t.

She couldn’t.

“Luna,” Ginny began, though she was not entirely sure why. Soon, it did not matter why, as Luna pressed her lips to Ginny’s, swallowing any word or thought that Ginny may have been about to voice.

Ginny gasped at the contact, but did not pull away: indeed, it was Luna who broke the kiss a moment later. Parting her lips from the stunned Ginny, Luna waited for a response: it seemed to her that an age was passing as she did so. Eventually, heart thudding against her chest, Ginny wet her lips deftly with her tongue. Tentatively she placed her hand against Luna’s back, running her palm softly along the length of the other girl’s spine. Resting at the base of Luna’s skull, Ginny drew Luna’s mouth to her own as moist, lightly glossed lips met tenderly once more.

Lips and tongues slowly explored the other’s mouth. With eyes closed, Ginny savoured the taste and texture of Luna’s tongue, of Luna’s lips; the warmth and weight of Luna’s body against her own.

Utterly absorbed by languorous movements of Luna’s tongue as it entwined with her own, Ginny unwittingly allowed her hands to traverse further over the contours of Luna’s form: trailing her long fingers along Luna’s back, she let her hands fall to Luna’s side. Luna moaned lightly as Ginny grasped gently at her flesh, inching slowly towards her breasts.

“Mmm,” Luna grunted softly into Ginny’s mouth. Extricating herself from their increasingly intense kisses, Luna grinned mischievously.
“I think,” Luna began as she ran her index finger over the surface of Ginny’s nose, lips and chin, “I have a better idea.” Luna continued the trail of her fingertips over Ginny’s neck, undulating rhythmically as she breathed; over the bony parting of her sternum and the small mound of her belly.
“Luna, what are you…?” Ginny asked wide-eyed as Luna slipped her fingers past the hem of Ginny’s school skirt.

Luna, however, remained mute, content to reply only by way of a dreamy, yet knowing smile. She pressed her hand to Ginny’s thigh, pushing it gently to one side beneath her skirt. Ginny breathed deeply, sharply, as Luna ran her fingers along the inside of her thigh, grazing the pale skin. Luna then slipped a second hand underneath Ginny’s skirt, flipping the fabric upwards, exposing Ginny’s cotton underpants to the Room of Requirement.

“Luna, I…” Ginny started, but was unable to finish, unable, even, to coherently gather her thoughts as Luna ran her fingers along Ginny’s slightly slick outer lips through the fabric of her pants.
“I-oh…” Ginny concluded as Luna slid her finger under the elastic of her underpants. Running her thumb and forefinger along the opening of Ginny’s outer labia, Luna positioned herself between Ginny’s legs. Carefully she probed further with her finger, searching out the nub of Ginny’s clitoris. Tenderly massaging Ginny’s clit, Luna positioned herself between Ginny’s legs enabling her to lick and kiss her trembling lower stomach.

The rapidity of Ginny’s breathing increased with Luna’s dexterous manipulation of her clit. Lips parted in a pre-emptive “Oh,” Ginny drew Luna’s body closer to her own with her thighs. Luna rubbed Ginny’s clit in a circular motion, alternating slow and fast movements. Ginny could feel the slippery walls of her vagina squeeze against one another as she ground her pelvis against Luna’s hand.

As Ginny writhed below her, Luna tilted her hand positioning her thumb over the sensitive protuberance of her clitoris and extending a finger, slipping it inside Ginny. Gasping, Ginny inadvertently jerked her hips away. Luna continued to stimulate Ginny’s clit with the mound of her thumb, drawing her ever closer to climax.

“Oh, Luna,” Ginny panted desperately. In the grip of a pleasure she had never before experienced, she involuntarily arched her back and, moaning gutturally, Ginny projected her voice skywards as her body convulsed.

Luna intently observed Ginny’s orgasm, delighting in the sporadic motions of her pelvic muscles as she came. As Ginny’s posture softened once more and she regained control of her breathing, Luna rubbed the palm of her hand against the throbbing, sticky haven of between Ginny’s legs. Smiling, she slowly withdrew her hand.

“Hey,” Luna whispered as she lay beside Ginny.
“Hey,” Ginny replied sleepily, contentedly.
“I suppose we’d better get back, then,” Luna whispered matter-of-factly. As she lay beside Ginny, she pressed her lips to Ginny’s in a final kiss before they returned to their families for Christmas.

And though she smiled, Ginny could not suppress a lingering sadness that marked their parting as she realised: she would truly miss Luna.

She would not, however, comprehend the exact extent of her yearning until a year later.

***

“Ginny!” a voice called from across the room; a familiar tone that somehow managed to rise above the general ruckus of the Three Broomsticks. Ginny snapped her head around in response, her lively brown eyes searching for the source of the address.

And that was when Ginny spotted it; the long, blonde hair and the soft pink lips; the gentle curvature of breasts and hips and thighs; the slightly absent-minded smile that belied the shimmering knowledge residing in the eyes:

Luna.

Ginny was suddenly unable to suppress the pink blush rising in her freckled cheeks as Luna approached her. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for her Butterbeer as the memory of the hours they had spent together in the Room of Requirement flooded over her.

The light and the warmth.

The kindness and friendship.

The love.

Yes, Ginny knew now it had been love, real love: she had reached that painful realisation once she had been reunited with Harry after the war. But it had been so long – so very long – since she had seen Luna. And now that she was confronted with her familiar, comforting presence, she simply did not know what to say.

“Hello, Ginny,” Luna smiled.
“Hello,” Ginny managed to croak, “It’s…it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Luna nodded in agreement: “The war,” she stated, indicating something behind Ginny with a nod of her head.

Turning to see what it was Luna had gestured to, Ginny’s eyes too, rested on the scruffy-haired, bespectacled figure who had just entered the pub: Harry.
“The war,” Ginny echoed sadly, turning her attention once more to Luna. Suddenly it became the name for the space that had sprung up between them in the intervening year: the name for Harry, for death and grief, for the longing and love they shared for one another, and, ultimately, the regret and the realisation that they would never again experience the contentment afforded to them by the Room of Requirement.

Sighing, Ginny gazed resignedly at Luna – and saw the same gaze mirrored in Luna’s knowing eyes.
“I know,” Luna said simply, as the unmistakable note of defeat sounded in Ginny’s ears.

And in her heart, where its painful echo would remain.