Luna(tic) (Marauders Era)

22. The Trick to Untying Knots

It took Luna a very long time to move. Somehow, the stillness Remus had left her with felt precious. Felt fragile. It felt like if she spoke, if she moved, if she so much as blinked, it would shatter. She knew the thoughts were mad even as they crossed her mind, but it didn't stop them from being there. And it didn't stop her from believing them. It was a belief that was madness in itself. The same way her belief in Sam was a madness. Because no matter how much evidence there was to the contrary, no matter how many times she saw others walk through him, no matter how many times she blinked and the silence persisted, deep down in her bones, she was certain it was true. Certain Sam was there. Certain this next blink would be the one that shattered this brittle peace and left the flood to bear down on her again.

She couldn't have explained why she did move in the end. But she did. Maybe it was the thought slipping into her head that she was standing outside of the Hospital Wing and soon the Matron might come out. Maybe it was the thought that she was in the middle of the hall and she'd look so very strange to anyone who came looking. Or maybe it was Sam's restless shifting, his crackling energy next to her a strange counterpart to the odd stillness that had sprung to life in Luna's own limbs. But whatever the reason, the stillness did end, eventually. And she did move.

It was like walking through mud, those first few steps. Like pushing through cobwebs and undergrowth and tangled vines but she made it happen. She took step after step. One foot in front of the other, careful not to let her toes fall on any of the cracks in the stones beneath her feet in case they too were fragile. In case the next step, like the next blink, might bring the castle crumbling down around her.

It didn't take long to find a classroom and Luna was almost grateful she was too scattered and tattered to care that it was too large to be properly comfortable, to open be convinced that the walls were still there when she closed her eyes. But she didn't want to spend another moment walking in those halls with too many cracks in their floors and too few doors on their ends so she made do. She improvised. If the walls were too far away, she reasoned, she would simply press herself close to them and hope their artificial presence would serve as some semblance of comfort. Like she could make the room small if she simply chose to occupy only a small part of it.

It was a hope that had her walking right down to the farthest corner from the door and pressing herself into it so she could see as many walls as there were and feel two of them besides.

Luna didn't remember making the conscious decision to sit, but the next moment, she was on the ground, cold stones against her rear and spine, knees bunched up to her chest like they could make up for those distant walls across the room.

And once she was sitting, Luna knew there was nothing at all to do but breathe. Just... breathe.

It was like a meditation, these moments after the falling. A ritual repeated in a silent sort of desperation, every moment a whispered prayer that she wouldn't miss any of the pieces she needed to pick up and put back together. Wouldn't forget to patch one of the cracks. Wouldn't come across any knots she didn't know how to undo.

To all the world, Luna supposed she looked like she was simply... sitting, brushing her hair out with her fingers, winding it around them, pulling it over her shoulders piece by piece and working out the tangles one lock a time. And in a way, that really was all she was doing. It was just that the outside eye couldn't see the real knots Luna was working on. The important knots.

It was a trick her mother had taught her, years ago. Luna didn't know what the occasion had been. She couldn't remember the snap or crack or fall that had caused it. But she knew she'd been young and desperate and babbling about all the tangled strings in her head and how everyone just kept saying to calm down and she wanted to, God she wanted to, but every step she took she tripped over the mess in her skull.