Yours, Luna Lovegood

Sirius

Harry had never felt better. He woke an hour before dawn with a broad smile, feeling rested and whole. After a quick shower, he threw on a white tee, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of white trainers. He ran down the steps, grabbed a fresh croissant on the way out the door, and headed directly to the far hedge of the local primary school.

"Luna Lovegood."

***

Harry appeared at the foot of the ancient ash in the predawn darkness. Stuck by the natural calm of the scene, he stood a stone's throw from the Rook and took a deep, calming breath.

This was the first morning Luna hadn't met him at the ash, so he strolled up the hill to the Lovegood's round, emerald green door. He considered for a moment, gently knocked, and waited.

After a few minutes without an answer, Harry considered descending the slope to observe the river fairies until Luna woke. But just then the door opened slowly. Luna stood before him, with sleepy eyes and tossed hair, wearing a thin, jersey white spaghetti strap and a pair of short baby blue pajama shorts. A three quarter length cotton robe loosely draped over her shoulders.

"Harry?"

As soon as he saw Luna, he rushed to her, wrapped his arms around her waist, picked her up and spun her joyfully. She giggled, her cotton robe swinging about.

"Good morning, beautiful." He set her down on the inside of the threshold. He kissed her playfully. "You, Luna Lovegood, are absolutely brilliant."

He took a moment to look at her. She smiled bashfully, and in the cool breeze of the morning he noticed just then how little she was wearing. She bit her lip, enjoyed his unwavering attention for just a moment, and then wrapped the robe tightly around her waist.

She suppressed a yawn. "Harry Potter, you're earlier than usual." Smiling sleepily, she laced her fingers through his and walked him into the house. "Come sit with me?"

He followed her up the stairs, watched the cotton robe hint at her form, regretting its existence entirely.

She led him to her library, curled her legs beneath her at the center of the vast, overstuffed green couch. She pulled him next to her, turning to face him directly. Her robe loosened as she leaned toward him, and the contours of her chest were just visible. He pulled her hand to his lips, kissed her fingers.

"I should wake you more often." He laughed playfully, and she rolled her eyes with a flirtatious smirk.

"I'm here a bit early because I was planning to visit Sirius this morning. I wanted to see you first, and to ask if you would meet me at my place for lunch. Our potion will be ready this afternoon."

She laughed. "Correct, Harry Potter. Our potion will be ready. I'd love to join you for lunch."

He grinned. "Excellent. It's a date." He paused for a moment. "Oh, and Luna?"

She looked into his eyes.

"Thank you. Your memory was... incredible. You're incredible."

She blushed, bit her lip. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Harry Potter. It's one of my favorites."

***

They spent an hour together, reflecting on the magical theory of memory. Luna distantly, melodically speculated on the nature of memory, and on the application of memory for research and an ever deepening comprehension of the world around them. Harry imagined out loud how better prepared he might have been for the world he faced with the memories of his parents. He reflected on the potential of shared memories, how communities might come together in the shared experience of a memory revisited. She wondered aloud whether Harry might benefit from the memories of Dumbledore, whose vague suspicions might be resolved by group reflection on his past.