Luna knows she is not like anyone else. It is a fact that haunts her; hangs over her head, an oppressive weight on her shoulders. She is different. But for the first time Luna does not think to describe that as a bad thing.
Harry Potter is regarded, to the wizarding world, as dead. They did not find the body because there was no body to find-- Luna knows the truth, after all, and the truth is oh-so different than what the majority of people perceive. (She is not like them.) Draco Mafloy is regarded as the hero who vanquished the Dark Lord, and no care is given to the strangely intelligent big that is often found resting on his shoulder.
They graduate. Get jobs. Life moves on. Harry Potter is not forgotten but the rest of the dead are-- let the dead stay dead, would be their reasoning. (Luna knows-- like she knows the moon to eclipse and the men to burn what they do not understand-- that this reasoning is faulty, but it is as good as reason as any.)
And as life moves on, as Luna graduates Hogwarts, Luna is left without ambition. Having Harry back, to the certain degree they had, was wonderful... but life moves on, and so did he. Harry moves in with Draco, and Luna and Harry's communication becomes limited; Draco is forced to translate Harry's chirps into the letter, and Luna is not so okay with Draco knowing what she wished only Harry would know.
But. Alas. Life moves on and she will not sit around waiting only to be left behind.
She is a traveller, offering her knowledge for money, but most of the time in turn for the basic nessecities. Some times she does not take anything in turn (they need it more than she-- both the knowledge and the money.) She is known, somewhat. It is not the same as it used to be (...nothing is ever the same as it used to be) because they regard her as Teal Seer, and not Loony. It is odd, and it is the first time Luna uses the word without a negative cognition. It is the start of many instances to come.
She meets interesting people-- none like her, which made her fragile heart ache, pulsing to a foreign heartbeat she wishes she could control and vanquish-- and one of which is a barely there mass of tangling limbs.
He calls himself 'Triumph.'
Luna gets the sense that Triumph had not experinced a lot of triumph in his lifetime (and perhaps whatever after); his name an oxymoron. He says he exists because humans, and the battles they create, exist, too-- he is a tangled mess of not only limbs of fallen soliders, but the rewards they gain in their conquests. Luna thinks that for something so monsterous, he is the most human thing she's ever seen.
Triumph says he delivers rewards to people who's paths are stained in blood-- "but only good people, of course," he had added... almost as an afterthought.
"So you represent the Greater Good?" she asked.
His eyes (the molten collecten of several) had dimmed at that and he gave a simple, "Something like that."
The next day, Luna is introduced to his sibling-- Lord Nothing (which Luna thought didn't sound like a proper title in the slightest, but was there to befriend; not judge.) Lord Nothing is a puff of air, a disembodied voice, the pride before the fall. They are the air of your first breath and the puff of your last.
Lord Nothing says Luna is very special... it reminds Luna of how very long it has been since last she'd been called that without a trace of mocking tone. No one else in the mortal realm can see or hear Lord Nothing and their siblings-- Luna is an oddity amongst oddities.
... And for the first time, Luna is not ashamed of that fact. How could she be, when it is her blood that makes her able to see such great friends that others cannot? When it is the same mind she bears that can see-- even hold the many hands of Triumph that was regarded as a freak?
She is a freak. An (oddity.) More. And it is something to take pride about-- so take pride she does, and how dare the world try to convince her otherwise? How dare they steal shoes from the feet that will step upon world's theirs would never dare? She is not as fault for their follies. She is ((everything.))
One day, Lord Nothing offers her a gift. It is the opportunity to change what otherwise could not be changed. There are limitations, as they cannot manage everything, but it is still a lot of power. Luna thinks she's being offered this because Nothing has taken a fondness to her-- though she's equally as sure, for reasons she cannot place, that it's for plot convince, too.
Luna is given the power to act God-- but only once. She does not like the feelings, the control she has over people, as if she the puppeteer and they her unwilling puppets. But Luna is not one to give up such a rich opportunity.
There are a million and one things she could do. But only one she will. She will give life-- real, full life-- to someone who deserves all that and more.
"Give Harry Potter a form more than a bird; let him live his life as he as earned it."
She starts exchanging letters with Harry again after that. She does not see Nothing or Triumph again-- as if the wish Nothing granted planted a wall between them. Luna is okay with that because, quite simply, Luna is okay. She has never once been content, in her nineteen and a half years of living, but... habits are meant for breaking, she thinks.
"A girl more star than girl,
With fingers permanently stained midnight
One who shoots shots but always misses
Crushed dreams of love and friendship;
Failed belonging."
∆¶∆
Harry Potter wakes up, on his twentieth birthday, nuzzled into his unofficial husband's side. Draco's lips are parted slightly as he slumbers on, and Harry raises a hand, to rub a thumb along them--
Which raises his attention to the fact that he has thumbs. He... has a body. He has a body. Not a full one-- it appears as if he is a ghostly apparatuses. He hands go through the bed beneath him if he pushes too hard, as with everything else, as he would soon figure out.
But he can touch Draco. He skin is soild beneath Harry's hands-- he is real to no one but Draco. (He wouldn't have it any other way.)
Harry's almost hysterical laughter wakes Draco from his sleeps-- who, upon gauging his situation, starts laughing, too, before engulfing his mouth in a passionate kiss.
Their pet bird-- fondly referred to as Voldy Smith-- watches on peacefully in the corner.
So, no. Not all is well. Hermione, Ron, Albus, Severus, Sirius, Remus, Fred, countless others. They are dead. There is no way to avoid that. Tears are cried because they demand to be cried-- the loss of precious life is not without toll.
All is not well (but all is.)
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An Uneventful Quidditch Match (drarry) (COMPLETED)
रोमांसSequel to An Eventful Quidditch Match ~ You're back ~"That I am" You should've died ~"I get that a lot" I feel like you're different now ~"You're the only one who says so" You're not Harry. I'm not wrong ~"I never said you were" Harry wakes up. He's...
