Happy Springsmut, simons_flower! Author:jairissa Recipient:simons_flower Title: A Year Ago Today Rating: NC-17 Pairing(s): Harry/Luna Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. Summary: Seeing is necessary for believing, surely? Warnings: Luna, in this, is 17. All other characters are over 18. Word Count: ~3500 Author's Notes:simons_flower, this was something very new and different for me. I hope I have done it justice for you.
It had become so easy to lose track of time. Harry had been positive that a rest, and food, would make his world better, but it seemed that he had been entirely naive. On waking, the world had still been different. The walls of Hogwarts still smelt of blood and death; the people he passed in the hallways still cried; when he made his way down to the Great Hall, the people he loved were still gone.
He had spent a moment trying to erase the smell of spilled blood, both mud and pure, from his nostrils, looking up to find that breakfast had faded to lunch. He would have sworn that he had spent no more than an hour sitting with people who had lost someone they loved, and yet it was near dinner by the time he was done. The Great Hall…Harry felt numb walking from one end of it to the other, closing his eyes every time he came across someone he didn’t know; he felt guilty seeing them lying there, having nothing to mourn them with.
Occasionally he heard the faintest sound of sorrowful phoenix song followed by a sad lament. Harry flinched each time the first note echoed through the open room, barely refraining from turning to the doorway to find it empty of wise blue eyes and a sad smile.
He lingered too long near Remus and Tonks, his hand resting on his friends as he tried to find the words to say 'we won. I wish you could see it.' He finally managed "I'm sorry," expecting to find darkness when he turned away. The shadow of the sun was where he had left it, the healers moving barely one patient to the side.
Time, it seemed, was a trickster.
It took one deep breath, followed by another short one, to give Harry the courage to turn back around. His friends deserved better than this; he had spent what had turned out to be an eternity with complete strangers. How awful was he that he could not spare that same forever with people he loved?
"I think he was my favourite Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," a musing voice said at his side. Harry was used to jumping at sudden sound, even if they were preceded by a brush of wind against his side and his hand being cupped in an unfamiliar one. It was strange when he didn't this time. "He didn't laugh when I told him that his sweater was likely filled with Filly-Wills. They like the holes, you know."
Harry smiled, squeezing the warm hand in gratitude. He shouldn't laugh, he knew, but he was sure that Remus would have found it amusing too. He would have given that small quirk of lips that showed how difficult he was finding it to hide a laugh, head turning away in amusement.
"I'm in trouble then," he tried to joke, indicating his clothes, filled with holes of curses he could no longer remember. "How many of them do you think I have?"
He expected a flippant answer, although he mentally rebuked himself for it. Luna inspected his sweater carefully, her blonde hair tied carefully back into a wild ponytail. Her fingers traced the ragged, gaping holes, occasionally plucking at a lose thread.
"You seem to be safe," she said finally giving his hem one last tug. "I wouldn't be too worried, though – Filly-Wills are good luck. They take care of you when you can't take care of yourself."
Harry winced, barely twisting his lips into a grim imitation of a smile. His free hand carefully fingered the holes in Remus' tatty clothes with the same care that Luna had his. Remus had never been able to care for himself; how much easier would it have been for him if small, kindly creatures were taking care of him?
"I feel lost," he whispered, entirely out of the blue. He felt weak for admitting it, for not being as strong as he was expected to be. He expected the usual platitudes, or even an 'of course it's hard. I promise it will get better.'
Instead he was rewarded with a squeeze of his hand. "You're not lost," she told him, her face so open that Harry ached to believe her. "You're right here."
Harry shook his head, reaching for the words to explain himself. He almost thought they had vanished entirely -- he had words enough to explain almost anything, but when it came to emotions he seemed entirely devoid. "It's not fair," he said hoarsely, using his head to gesture to the room around them; he could not bear to loosen his grip on either of them. "A year ago today, I was finding out what I was meant to do. I was making plans, and...following that, because it was what I was born for. But now? It's done, and I'm still here. I don't know what to do -- everything I was meant to do is finished."
Luna considered his words for a moment, nodding gravely. "That is a problem," she said finally, looking at him with calm eyes. When Harry searched them carefully, he thought he could detect the faintest hint of concern. "Perhaps you need something new to do. Something that doesn’t have an end?"
Harry laughed, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. It seemed so simple, really. His life as he knew it was over, so of course he should just find something else to do. "What should I do if I get lost there, too?" He asked her, the hand holding hers letting go to bury itself in his hair in a poor imitation of his father.
"Well, then, I'll just have to come find you, won't I?" She said cheerfully, reaching to smooth Tonks' hair with her newly freed fingers.
~*.*~
"I will never get this," Harry announced, slamming his Transfiguration book closed. Ron made a murmured sound of agreement, which managed to both irritate and amuse him at the same time; a year ago, Ron would have agreed with him quite vocally. Now he seemed far too concerned with Hermione's feelings to question at all the usefulness of studying. "I think it was designed to torment me."
Hermione snorted, raising an eyebrow at him. Harry leaned back against his chair, eyeing the library malevolently. Surely if there was no one else in here, late as it was, he should be allowed to speak as loudly as he wanted. He had learned better than to than to voice that thought -- the last time he had, both Hermione and Madame Pince had insisted on telling him, quite loudly, the many ways in which he was wrong.
"I'm going for a walk," he decided, keeping his voice to the officially mandated levels. Hermione looked at him disapprovingly, her disappointment tempting enough that Harry almost stayed, his resolve bolstered by Ron's shrug of sympathy. "I'll be back in a minute, I swear."
It seemed easy to let that minute drift into 'several', and those several drift into a few more. Harry tried to convince himself that he was simply patrolling the hallways for something unfortunate out of habit; it was easier to believe that than to acknowledge his old habit of procrastination. He had found that he could waste more time by trailing his fingers along the Hogwarts bricks, as he had seen Luna do occasionally, pretending that he could feel the difference in every curve and hole.
"Are you lost again?" Her calm voice asked him. If he had not grown used to her surprising him with sudden appearance Harry would almost have thought that he conjured her from these bricks. "Do you want me to come after you?"
Harry's lips quirked into a smile, and he turned only after he managed to stifle his laughter. "I think I'm all right, thanks," he said, leaning back against the cool wall, the thin material of his shirt barely protecting him from its iciness. "I was just trying to avoid my homework. It's not going too well."
Luna's eyes widened and she tapped her fingers against the wall absently. "Perhaps I can help you," she asked eventually, blue eyes holding a small apprehension, masked quickly by the openness he was so used to in them. "As long as it's not Divination. I'm quite terrible at that."
Harry would have thought it would be one of her favourites, based as much in the unknown as it was – Luna seemed to like those things best. "I like to be surprised," she continued, smiling as his shock. "If I pay attention, I'd be afraid I would know what was going to happen next. I'd be quite bored if I knew what I was about to do."
He had to agree with that -- the time after what he was meant to do, while occasionally boring, felt so much more free than the time before. "It's Transfiguration," he said, making a face. "I've never been brilliant at it. My Dad was, I think, but...that's one thing I didn't get from him."
Luna regarded him carefully and Harry felt himself blushing under the force of it. He was not sure what had caused him to blurt the information about his father; she was far too easy to talk to for his own good.
"I can help you with that," she said finally, a frown crossing her face. She took his hand, as seemed to have become her habit, leading him towards an empty classroom. "As long as you're casting the spell. I'm afraid that your father can't help here."
There was sadness in her voice at the word 'father'. He meant to ask about it, startled into silence as she pushed him into a chair, taking a place on the desk in front of him and crossing her legs.
"What are you meant to do?" She asked lightly. It occurred to him that, with the year he had missed, she was likely taking most of the classes he had been, even if she had missed some of her own. Still, it seemed heartless to point that out when she looked so sincerely curious.
"Er...I need to turn a rag into a rat," he said, holding out the green and purple dishtowel that he was meant to be Transfiguring. She looked it over thoroughly, fingers following it with the same care she had Remus' beaten shirt.
"Have you ever known a rat?" She asked, eyes meeting his in curiosity. Harry was prepared to disagree, to point out that of course he had never known a rat, when an image of Peter Pettigrew flew into his head.
"Yes," he found himself saying, fingers clenching into the leg of his pants as he remembered the smug look, the silver hand and the dark graveyard. He pulled viciously on the fabric, hating the memories more every moment.
"That will make things easier," Luna said dreamily, watching Harry's frustration as though it were some mildly amusing play. Her voice was soft, soothing him as she reached out to cup his cheek in her hand. "Close your eyes and think of him."
Harry obeyed, mind echoing through a thousand different moments in Peter Pettigrew's life that he wished he could change. He expected her to give further instructions, the silence echoing through the images. He made to open his eyes, finding them pressed firmly closed by fingers he hadn't realised were close to him.
He tried to hold on to the fury, and to the hate. Against his will, the images changed to the laughter he had seen in Snape's memories, to the memory of someone giving his life for Harry's own, and the acknowledgement that not all choices in life were easy.
"Can you see him?" Luna said softly, and Harry nodded, keeping his eyes closed. He felt his hand being picked up, directed towards an invisible rag. "See him."
Harry kept the image firmly in his mind, repeating the spell he had learned earlier that day. He opened his eyes slowly, the sound of squeaking spurring him on. The small, brown rat was the perfect image of Peter Pettigrew in everything but the eyes; they held an innocence Harry had never seen in those of the person who had destroyed his family.
"That was easy," Harry blurted, and Luna laughed delightedly. He looked at her quickly, finding her face alight with mirth.
"Everything's easy if you can see it properly," she pointed out. Harry had to look away from the pleasure in her eyes, unaccountably embarrassed.
"Sometimes I don't like what I see," he admitted, picking at a loose piece of cotton on his shirt. "I prefer the darkness."
"It can be easier," she said to Harry's surprise. He was so used to the 'of course you don't' lecture that hearing someone acknowledge it nearly knocked him off his chair. "I would miss so many pretty colours that way, though. Not to mention being at risk of yulareets."
Harry was not sure what a yulareet was, but really, it hardly seemed to matter. No doubt it would confuse the point even more were he to enquire.
"What's your favourite colour?" He asked curiously, surprised to see a small blush on her face.
"Green," she said clearly, smiling softly. "Like your eyes. And nargles when they hide in mistletoe."
~*.*~
"Tell me," Harry pleaded, blowing doubtfully on the dandelion Luna had given him. He had been instructed to make a wish, but he refused to do so until she told him what she had wished for first. It seemed to be the only time he had asked something of her that she was not willing to answer.
"If I tell you that, the flower fairies won't grant it," she told him primly, blowing on her third one, eyes following the spores as they danced on the wind. "I wouldn't want to upset them. They seem nice, but they've been known to turn people bald if they're upset."
Harry leaned back against their picnic blanket, smiling in amusement. He kept his hand close to hers, the warmth of her skin so near to his own sending flickers of electricity across his skin. "I'll tell you what I wished for," he tempted her, daring to brush his pinky finger across the back of her hand.
Luna hesitated, considering him carefully. "Did you wish on the flower?" She asked, eyebrow raised. Harry grinned ruefully, shaking his head.
"I just wished," he said, looking up at her innocently. He watched her think it over, nodding in satisfaction.
"That's all right," she decided, looking at him cheerfully. "If the wish didn't go to the fairies, I think you should be safe."
Harry faltered for a moment, trying to gain confidence from the knowledge that she hadn't pulled away from his touch yet. "I wished you would kiss me," he said boldly, before he could lose his nerve. He kept his eyes trained on the grass behind her; he knew she would never laugh at him, but he was not quire prepared for what he assumed would be the inevitable rejection.
He was startled by the soft kiss to his forehead, eyes flying to meet hers. A longer press of her mouth followed the soft peck to his cheek before her lips finally met his. Harry tried to gasp, to speak her name, to do something to point out that he hadn't meant to force her, but all words seemed to have flown out of his head.
He let himself fall to the ground, hand tangled in her hair as she followed him. When her tongue flickered at the corner of his mouth, Harry opened himself to her instinctively, whimpering when her mouth left his. "Was that what you wanted?" She asked seriously. Harry nodded, sighing in near-relief as he realised that she seemed to have no intention of pulling away, hand resting next to his head.
He stroked his palm over her cheek, pulling her to him for another kiss, running his hand lightly down her back. "Soft," he whispered against her, not sure why he was surprised. He had no idea why anything about Luna surprised him anymore; after all this time he should be more than prepared for the unexpected.
"We should leave," Harry said unsteadily when they broke for air. The giggle he was rewarded with almost made up for the fact that his attempts to sit up and move away were met with an unbreakable force against his wrists and ankles, not shifting however much he tugged.
"Binding spells are NEWT level charms," she said seriously, unbuttoning his shirt. His mouth felt dry as his heart leapt to his throat, all thought of discomfort forgotten as she unbuttoned her own. "Meant primarily for Aurors, to ensure that their criminal does not get away until reinforcements arrive."
Harry gaped as she pushed her shirt away, wondering how on earth he had not noticed that she wore nothing underneath it. "You're perfect," he said reverently, barely catching her pleased smile as he fought against the bonds holding him. "If we...I mean...won't people see?"
Luna shrugged her shoulders, leaning down to kiss him again. Harry wondered how on earth he would explain this, fighting against his restraints until he realised that he really didn't care. If they wanted to see this, that was their own problem; even had he been able to move, he did not think he would have.
"The counter spell is quite simple," she continued serenely, undoing Harry's trousers. He moaned, jerking his hip upwards as she stroked him gently, pulling him carefully out of his boxers. He was about to point out that it would be quite difficult to do anything with their clothes still in between them, eyes widening as she reached under her skirt to pull her underwear away. "Although it requires the use of your wand, and a few moments peace to run away once you're free."
Harry nodded dumbly, trying to speak as she lowered herself carefully on to him, skirt settling carefully around his hips. His words turned into an involuntary hiss, the result turning into a bastardisation of 'oh my god,' that made perfect sense to him until he realised that she was watching him with wide eyes, stilled on top of him.
He tried to apologise, wondering how he was meant to enunciate anything when she was clenched so tightly around him. "Do that again," she said, licking her lips, eyes darkening as she watched his mouth. Harry complied, breath curling around her cheek as she leaned over him, hips moving slowly in time with his fervent hisses.
"Yes," he hissed when she deigned to move faster, eyes searching as best he could over his shoulder for any sign of someone coming to interrupt them. "Just don't...Luna...please don't stop."
He dug his fingers into the grass, the only part of himself he could reliably move as his breath came in pants, even hoarse hissing becoming impossible. Closing his eyes, Harry surrendered himself to the soft rise and fall of her hips on top of him, groaning as his climax hit him, more powerfully than he had known was possible.
Luna moved once, twice more before she settled on top of him, hair ticking his neck as she rested against his chest. The pressure on his wrists vanished and he raised his hands to wrap around her back.
"Of course the best way to capture someone is to ensure they want to be caught," she finished, breath caressing his chin. Harry stroked a hand down her back, falling slowly from the heights she had raised him to, realising belatedly that he was the only one who seemed to have enjoyed himself.
"I...er...I mean..." he forced out, trying to meet Luna's eyes. She raised himself on her elbows, looking at him expectantly as he struggled for words. "Well...did you..."
She pushed a piece of sweaty hair out of his face, echoing her early kiss to his forehead. "I like being close to you," she said, pressing herself back into her earlier embrace, head resting against the place Harry could feel his heart beating. "I like pretending you're mine."
"I am yours," Harry whispered, rolling them both over so that he could look her properly in the eyes, body pressed temptingly against her own. "Never doubt that."
Luna smiled, eyes lit up in a way that Harry could not recall seeing before. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a lazy kiss, tongue exploring the curve of his mouth. "Does that mean you'll help me look for Nargles in the mistletoe this year?" She asked, hand softly rubbing against the back of his neck. Harry hid a laugh, settling himself beside her so that he did not crush her with his weight.
"If you want," he said, figuring a few hours looking for nargles might be worth it if he could sneak a few kisses. "You'll have to teach me what they look like, though."
"I can do that," she said contentedly. He heard a soft sound and looked up to see her pop a piece of leftover chocolate in her mouth. "You just have to be able to see them."