Luna(tic) (Marauders Era)

21. Small Terrified Things

Luna had no intention whatsoever of actually going to the hospital wing, but she headed off in that direction anyway, forcing her steps to be as steady as they could be when her head was a tangle and mess. When the grace was gone from this dance and she was stumbling her way across ribbons and strings and making the knots worse by the moment. When she wanted to run. To sprint. To find the nearest door with a lock and slam it shut without caring who saw. Who asked. Because she wanted space between her and the world. She wanted her mother's arms around her and a promise that she wasn't a burden. That the interruptions to her life, the strain on her face, the wearing down of her heart, was nothing. That loving Luna was as easy and as natural as breathing. That she had never in her life even considered stopping.

But of course, she couldn't have that. Her mother was half a country away and those arms were as unreachable as her book bag dangled over her head by boys with nothing better to do. So in their absence, Luna would take whatever walls she could get and find a way to pretend they were enough. As if mere walls would ever be enough. As if pressing herself into corners had ever stopped the shaking. Or the staring.

And Merlin, he had been staring. With a look Luna knew. With a fear and a confusion and a something like laughter that mocked her. That terrified her.

Of course, she reminded herself as she hurried blindly down the halls in a direction she thought was vaguely towards the hospital wing, it was just one moment. He didn't know for sure that she hadn't been talking to someone who was right there. She hadn't said Sam's name. Hadn't so much as acknowledged his presence since, even though she could hear him saying her name, telling her to slow down, to calm down, begging her to breathe. Hell, she hadn't even looked at him as she'd spoken. She'd just... spoken.

But she could explain that away. She had to be able to explain that away. There had to be a way and by Merlin she would find it. After all, if it was a comment. Just one sentence. Just a handful of words directed at the wrong person at the wrong time. It was nothing. And a strange tone would be excusable if she just managed to make it sound like she was answering someone else. Someone they could see. Someone they could hear. Someone they believed existed.

She just had to figure out a way to explain it. A way to rationalize it. A way to make sure if anyone asked, she could laugh it off. Could play along. Could follow every last one of her rules and pretend pretend pretend.

Which would all have been so much easier if she was in a silent room and not this silent hallway. If there was a door between her and everyone else. If Sam wasn't talking, trying to say things she couldn't afford to hear right now because what she needed right now was to screw her head on straight. To remember what everyone had said so she could find a way to sound like she'd been listening. Like she'd been answering instead of having her own conversation with a dead boy.

She was wracking her brains as she walked, hands twisting in her hair until the skin underneath was white and the tips of her fingers a deep red that beat with her pulse.

What had they said? What had anyone said? The only words in her head were the wrong ones. The bitter ones. The terrifying ones. James's comments. Severus's questions. The whispers of crazy she was becoming increasingly convinced must have been spoken even if she knew no one had said anything of the sort. Because no one had had a chance. James had interrupted. James had said... something. Something that didn't really matter. It mattered what had been said before she'd spoken. What she could pretend to be answering.

Luna groaned and pressed her hands over her eyes, not bothering to slow her pace even as she blinded herself to her path.

What had they said?

It had started with a comment about Severus's mother. Not the first one, about the holes in her coat. Severus's coat. Someone's coat. The one about presents. About empty spaces under a nonexistent tree. And Sam had sworn. Had called him a bastard, but that wasn't really important either because it didn't matter what he had said it mattered what everyone else had said and she couldn't remember and Sam wasn't helping with this constant stream of words about how she needed to calm down because she didn't need to calm down she needed to figure this out so-