FicWad

The first time Luna ever saw Dean Thomas outside of Hogwarts was in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. Under the flickering light of the little stars from Ron’s pocket, she saw how terrible he looked, although she could not appear any better. He was wearing purple robes that were clearly very old, but much of the damage to them looked new. He was bruised and bloody. It made Luna wonder what was happening to the world outside of this room yet again, and now that escape seemed to be imminent she was more afraid of it than ever.

She had learned to make the shouting and the pain in the house above her wash over her. When she felt a wrackspurt near, she allowed it into her head. Imprisonment would be easier with a fuzzy mind. But now, knowing that it was Hermione being tortured was almost too much to take. She focussed on freeing her friends from their bonds.

When they were free, Dean and Luna’s eyes met, and he muttered a thanks. She tried to muster a smile in the chaos, but found that she could not.

Moments later, and Harry was telling them to go with the house-elf, Dobby. Luna and Dean protested. Dobby held out his hand towards them, and eventually they both took it. Two pairs of hands, grasping Dobby’s one, and in the last second Luna felt Dean’s finger brushing against hers. But with a crack the dungeon disappeared, and Dean’s touch with it.

*

It was terribly cold, and the sounds of the waves crashing harshly against the rocks made Luna pull the coat that Fleur had given her even tighter around her. They had come outside to lay Dobby to rest.

She was not as troubled by death as most people seemed to be, because it had been with her for most of her life. Nevertheless, the injustice of Dobby’s fate had upset her far beyond the emotions she showed on the outside. She could see how difficult this loss was for Harry, who had already lost so many, and so she kept her own grief mostly to herself.

They headed back inside, and Luna found herself on the sofa next to Dean. She did not look at him, but listened curiously to the information that Bill was sharing with the group. It was strange to be here, in someone’s loving home, and to be able to hear the sea.

Bill took Harry, Ron and Hermione upstairs. Fleur loitered in the doorway, apparently unsure of what to say to her guests. After an awkward few moments, she offered them tea and then disappeared into the kitchen to make it. Bill joined her when he returned downstairs.

‘I never imagined I’d be caught up in a war when I got my Hogwarts letter,’ said Dean, breaking the silence that had fallen in the room.

‘The world often shows us things in our lives that were once beyond our imagination, I think,’ Luna replied, in her quiet dreamy voice. ‘Perhaps it is a case of not having any expectations, but keeping our mind open to possibilities.’

He narrowed his brown eyes as he surveyed her, and Luna had a feeling that this was the first time that Dean Thomas had found truth in something she said: she’d seen that look before on the faces of her friends.

‘You’re probably right,’ he agreed.

‘I hope Daddy’s okay.’

‘I’m sure he’s fine,’ said Dean, his voice soft, empathetic. ‘He’s probably even more worried about you.’

‘Yes, I expect he is.’

They caught one another’s eyes completely for the first time since they had been in the Malfoy’s dungeon. That moment felt a million years ago now. They were both searching for something from each other, Luna knew, but she certainly didn’t know what it was; some sense of connection, perhaps, to another person and someone who was around her own age. Sat with all of the others in this room, she could not help but feel a stab of loneliness at the realisation that everyone else in the room was so incredibly close to someone else. When she had been at Hogwarts, she had thought this kind of feeling unnecessary. She wasn’t so sure anymore. And there was something, something in Dean’s eyes that seemed to connect with hers.

She began to reach towards him, and her hand hovered over his for a fraction of a second. But with a tinkle of china, Fleur and Bill reappeared. Luna pulled her hand back, and hoped that Dean hadn’t noticed.

*

Luna carefully placed the small bunch of lilac flowers she had collected into the jar that Fleur had given her. She rearranged them for a couple of moments, until they fell in a way that she liked. Then she stood back, and surveyed the scene. It was much better.

She looked around, and saw Dean in the distance, sitting on the grass near the edge of the cliff, looking out to sea. Knowing that everyone inside the cottage would be wrapped up in plans and relationships that didn’t involve her (Bill and Fleur were newlyweds, and Harry the Chosen One, after all) she decided to approach Dean.

They had been spending a lot of time together. Sometimes they didn’t talk at all, and other times they would chat for hours. Luna couldn’t tell if he was making fun of her a lot of the time, and when she knew that he was she couldn’t decide if it was out of affection or malice.

‘Hi Luna,’ he said, looking up as she drew close.

‘Hi Dean,’ she replied, and seated herself, cross-legged next to him. She held one of the flowers she had not used on Dobby’s grave between her finger and thumb, and spun it around between them.

‘What’s that?’ Dean asked.

‘It’s sea lavender.’

‘Oh.’ He sounded almost disappointed that she hadn’t had a more interesting explanation than this. Maybe his joking didn’t come from malice, then.

‘It looks a lot like the bailaria flower,’ she told him, ‘which, can do a few things.’

‘What can it do?’ Dean asked, a small smile playing across his handsome features.

‘Well, it can turn you into a fabulous dancer if you brew its petals in a tea when the moon is waxing.’

‘And what about when it’s waning?’

‘It ensures the conception of twins – if you have opportunity to conceive of course.’

Dean arched an eyebrow. ‘And you’ve put this plant to the test have you?’

‘Oh no, I’m far too young to be a mother,’ she informed him, and he laughed.

‘Don’t you want to be a good dancer?’

‘I’m an extremely good dancer already,’ she said, with a smile. ‘Although I don’t particularly conform to the popular styles.’

He was grinning now. ‘I don’t suppose that you do.’ He paused for a moment, and then added: ‘I’m not a good dancer at all. Why don’t you teach me? It’ll be something to do before dinner.’ He stood up, and held he hand out to her, she moved to reach it, but then there was Bill calling them in. Luna got to her feet without Dean’s help, and regretfully, they headed into the cottage.

*

The cottage was almost entirely dark, the only light being that of the moon shining through the kitchen window. The only sounds were the gentle tides of the sea, Ron’s snoring, and the slight clinking sound Luna’s spoon made as she turned it around in her mug.

She was sitting on the work surface, a dressing gown wrapped loosely around the old shirt of Bill’s that she wore for bed (it was covered in paint stains from decorating the cottage). She felt perhaps tea would help her to sleep. There was no particular reason as to why she could not do so, tonight of all nights, except for her constant worrying about her father, and her friends who remained at Hogwarts.

She sipped her drink a little, deemed it just the right temperature, removed the spoon, and cradled the mug in both hands as she drank it.

There was a movement by the door. She turned, and saw a tall figure entering the room.

‘Hello Dean,’ she said quietly, her eyes adjusting to the light a little more. ‘You’re up late.’

‘Couldn’t sleep,’ he explained through a yawn. ‘I thought I heard movement in here, came to investigate.’

‘Do you want some tea?’ she offered. ‘There’s more in the pot.’ Dean nodded, and leaned against the work surface opposite her. He was only wearing a t-shirt and boxer shorts, but Luna still managed to feel extremely underdressed. She was painfully aware that most of her legs were on display. ‘How do you take it?’

‘What?’ Dean asked, and Luna was sure she caught a slight shift in him that indicated embarrassment, but couldn’t quite make out why.

‘How do you take your tea?’

‘Oh.’ He let out a little laugh. ‘White, two sugars. Please.’

Luna hopped down from her position and poured out the mug of tea for him, which he accepted gratefully. She then hoisted herself back up again, and felt herself turn bright pink as the dressing gown and shirt became somehow stuck beneath her, revealing the entirety of her left thigh. She struggled with the material for a moment, and suppressed a sigh of relief when she was covered up. She picked up her mug and took a sip.

‘I’m sorry about that Dean,’ she said, sincerely. ‘I didn’t mean to flash you.’

Dean seemed to choke on a mouth full of tea at this statement. He swallowed, coughed, and replied, ‘It’s no problem, really, I mean it’s dark so …’

They fell quiet, both staring into their mugs to avoid looking at one another. Eventually, there was no tea left to look at.

‘Thanks Luna, that was the best cup of tea I’ve had in ages.’

‘It’s nothing, really,’ she said with a sigh. ‘That’s how Daddy likes it.’

Suddenly, she felt tears in her eyes that threatened to spill. Dean reached out to her, and Luna moved to take his hand, but before she could grasp it his arms were around her in a tight hug. Luna moved her arms to hold him in return, and cried quietly into his chest.

*

They were standing at the edge of the sea. The chilling water moved lightly over their feet, bringing stones to swirl around them. They had been standing there for a long time, enjoying the freedom the feeling of the ocean brought, and talking.

‘Do you feel afraid, Dean?’ Luna asked, looking up at him.

‘Afraid of what?’ he answered, looking down on her in turn.

‘About You-Know-Who, and everything that might happen.’

‘All of the time,’ he said with a nod.

‘I’m not afraid for myself, because I know that whatever happens, I’ll find my way. But I’m worried, I’m worried that some of my friends might end up alone.’

‘They won’t,’ Dean told her, and there was a certainty to his voice. ‘None of us are alone – we’ll all find each other again, somehow.’

They both turned, and looked out to sea again. The waves were starting to crash rather than flow. Luna reached out, and grasped Dean’s arm. She slid her hand down it, in search of his, but she stopped before she could find it. For he was looking at her with the sort of look that no one had really given her before, but that she had seen pass between other people.

‘Dean, I …’ But her words seemed to stall in her throat. She felt as though she could not move, and her hand was still fixed around his wrist.

And then he leaned down, and kissed her. All of a sudden, it did not matter where their hands were, or whether there was shards of stone scratching at their feet. All there was in that moment was Luna, Dean and the bond that had formed between them.