Yours, Luna Lovegood

Marauders

Harry had just bottled the memory of their first conversation, from the moment his attention was arrested by wiggling toes, to the moment he stepped off of the Hogwarts Express. A shining silver thread, pulsating with light, hung loosely from the tip of his wand, slowly curling into a small glass vial, when the shifting movement of another memory caught his attention. Another small glass vial, this one clearly mass manufactured and messily contained by a badly abused cork, sat upon a short note signed in Lupin's messy script.

"The best I could do in a pinch, but something tells me you won't mind."

Harry had completely forgotten about Lupin's gift, set aside in the wake of Hermione's revelation. Harry supposed Dobby or crew had found it in the drawing room, and set it here sometime this afternoon.

After tying his memory to Hedwig's left leg loosely with a worn leather strip, Harry sent her off and turned again to the memory seated upon his nightstand.

The pensieve, which now hovered at waist height between his four-poster and his wardrobe, was more intricately carved than he'd yet seen. It appeared to be, although Harry thought it impossible, hollowed from a single, massive pearl. Etched into its sides was a forest scene of impossibly rich detail, wrapped around the basin. Upon close inspection, a single figure, too perfect to represent a man, naked yet somehow concealed as if by the branches and leaves themselves, strolled along a beaten path, lost in thought, a raven perched upon his shoulder.

Harry grabbed the hastily stored memory, pulled the hovering pensieve to the nearest wingback, and readied himself.

A moment later, the thin silvery thread danced as if a feather tossed by gentle wind, slowly settling in the haze of the basin beneath.

***

A young James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin sat around a beaten round table in what must have been a muggle tavern, on well worn leather seated stools, behind large, glass mugs of ale.

"A few months in, James." Remus had shifted his gaze to the half full mug before him. He looked less worn, Harry felt, and more full of life. His clothes weren't threadbare. If his eyes and expression were any indication, grief wasn't so familiar a companion at this age. "So how's marriage?" He met James' gaze with a warm smile.

A cheerful grin met him, as James Potter shook his head with a laugh. "Boys, I'm not sure I should tell you that. Wouldn't want to chill your heart with jealousy..."

"Just look at him, Remus. He's clearly miserable." Sirius nudged his friend with a wink. "Indirect answers are never a good sign."

They laughed together at this, finishing their round and signaling another.

Jame's playful smile adopted a distant gravity. "You know, seriously, it's perfect. She's absolutely amazing. Honestly, I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Sirius, incredulous, shook his head slowly. "James, I mean — you know I love Lily, right? — but sincerely. All things being equal, in a world without consequences, wouldn't you extend your bachelor years a bit further? I mean, you're nineteen!"

James shook his head. "You know, guys..." He took a first sip from the round that had just been delivered. "...I'm sure it sounds ridiculous. But I mean every word." He hesitated, shifting his gaze from Sirius to Lupin. "If I could go back in time, if I could change anything? I'd marry her sooner. I'd marry her the moment after our first kiss."

They were laughing again, and he rolled his eyes. "Mock as you like, boys. I don't regret the years I won't have as a bachelor. I regret the years I didn't have as her husband."

***

Harry relived the memory twice more, cherishing the playful spirit, the unwavering commitment of his father.

It struck him how much he loved her, without hesitation. It would have been easy enough, Harry supposed, to cave at that moment. It would have been easy enough, on a night out with the boys, to imagine a life of an unanchored marauder. But James didn't do that. Because James loved Lily, and because his only regret was that they hadn't shared more of their life together.

It was a lovely memory, and Harry's gratitude for Remus Lupin surged in the wake of it. Yet that was nothing against the backdrop of an overwhelming affection for his father. He'd never wanted to be more like him, just then. He'd never so badly wanted to follow in his footsteps. And he rose from the pensieve with the concrete determination to do so, with all the resources within his grasp.

It was just then he made a decision that would change everything.

***

My darling Harry Potter,

Yes. Yes it was — everything you've said it was and more. I will relive the memory of this evening from every angle and perspective, a thousand times. You have captured my attention and taken me places beyond my imagination's unfettered hopes. I am into you, my perfect boyfriend. And that, I think, is going to be a problem.

You asked me to marry you tonight. I won't forget that, Harry Potter. I know your tricks. You'll go off to war, hell bent on the end of the darkness forever, ready to sacrifice all. Yet you've promised yourself to me, and I've captured it in a memory that will stand, I think, in any court as a verbal commitment to refrain from killing yourself before your seventeenth birthday.

That's three-hundred-sixty-four days from now. Bliss, and the culmination of everything I've hoped for before I knew his name and his perfect smile. One day less than a year away.

Before you ask, no. There isn't a way around the boundaries restricting magical union. Many have attempted, to no avail. The wards were set in the mid-seventeenth century, and while the modern conception of adulthood has shifted, the restriction has not.

So we have less than a year to rally our discipline and by all means avoid another perfect, delicious disaster like the one we've encountered this evening.

Oh, Harry. I loved every second.

You. I adore you. Every part. Harry, every part of you.

Were you to find your way through a hidden path to the Ravenclaw common room, I'm afraid you'd find a willing conspirator. So don't, my love, for I will follow you there without a second thought.

Goodness. We've another week and a half until term begins. What shall we do?

Yours, Luna Lovegood

PS - Send me your memory of this evening, darling, and I'll lace it with mine. Join me here tomorrow, and we'll do it together? PPS - Yes, I mean that both ways.