this is the harry potter accent challenge for @paansyparkinson aka karen aka the light of my life. this took me FOREVER to record n like it’s mostly just me hating snape and mispronouncing things
also i’m tagging everyone who wants to do this! so if you do make sure to tag me in it <3
title: i call your scars beauty lines (you call my freckles stars)
pairing: ginny/luna
word count: 1468
summary: after the war, nothing feels right without luna
for: @hpfemslashsecretsanta & @timeturnr
Ginny doesn’t realize she needs Luna until she’s lost her.
They’ve made it through sixth year, her previously off-and-on again relationship with Harry has been patched and she’s happy, God, she’s happier than she could ever imagine being, but when they finish seventh year, Luna takes off.
It’s surprising she’d even stayed long enough in the first place. She’d been missing for half of sixth year, had to learn and take the owls over the summer. Ginny doesn’t pretend that she couldn’t see how little Luna was invested in finishing.
She thinks Luna only did it to take her mind off everything else.
They don’t talk about the war much, after. It’s there, of course. This underlying knowing that Ginny and Luna aren’t the same as they were two, three years ago. That they won’t be.
They still don’t talk about it. Ginny gets picked up to play quidditch, which is a dream, really, by the Holyhead Harpies. Luna goes to her first game, tells her she’d proud, and then says she’s leaving.
“South America,” says Luna, smiling.
And Ginny, Ginny has to be happy for her. They’re thriving. Alive. Going to okay.
“South America, wow,” says Ginny. She swallows something. “Call me when you’re back, okay?”
Because the only reason Ginny has survived, it feels like, is because of Luna. And Luna’s leaving. To cope, maybe. She was trapped in a dungeon for months, then in a cottage, of course she wants to see the world, but Ginny can’t help but feel lost without her.
She forces a smile.
“You’ll be fine, won’t you?” asks Luna, because she isn’t stupid, because she’s Luna and she knows everything about Ginny and it feels less like a question than a promise.
Ginny half-wishes she could kiss her. “Of course,” she tries, but it feels too much like a lie. She tries again, “I’ll manage. I have Ron, and Harry, and Hermione, and fi–four other brothers.”
Luna gives her this sad smile, this I know sort of smile that reminds Ginny why she loves Luna so much. “Oh,” says Luna, smiling her sad smile, “That’s not what I asked.”
Ginny closes her eyes. “That’s the only answer I can give you. Except, Luna?”
“Hm?” says Luna.
“You don’t need to worry about me. Okay?”
Luna cocks her head to the side. “Don’t let the writsprats clog up your throat while I’m gone.”
“How would they do that?”
“Tell people if you need help,” says Luna, simply. “They’re dangerous creatures, those writsprats.”
Ginny lets herself exhale. “I’m going to miss you,” she says.
Luna doesn’t respond, just walks away. It’s Luna’s way of saying, don’t. Don’t miss me.
/
It’s a dream, almost. Ginny still jumps at small noises. When her coach gets too close during practice, when someone points their wand at her. But she’s trying.
She’s with Harry, which is a dream. He’s distant. Afraid. Blames himself more days than not but they’re together, and maybe they’re both a little broken, but they’re trying, and she’s actually happy.
The Holyhead Harpies end up doing pretty well. It clears her head, flying. Everyone’s supportive and Ginny loves quidditch, she really does, which is great, except Harry doesn’t usually come to her games.
She gets why. He throws himself into being an auror. He has bad memories. He’s tired. Except.
“Except I’m tired, too, Harry. It’s not,” here she pauses, sighing. She runs her hands through her hair. “It’s not easy, okay? We just fought in a war. We were kids. But–but I’m trying, everyone else is trying–”
“You don’t get it,” he says, and his eyes have gotten this dark edge to it that makes Ginny want to crumble. “I’m so tired of not being good enough, Gin. I’m–”
He turns to face the wall. Harry runs his hand through his hair and places a palm against the ugly floral wallpaper. “I want to be good enough.”
“You are,” Ginny presses on, because it’s not fair, “everyone knows that, except you!”
“You don’t understand!” he yells at her, whirling around. There’s tears in his eyes. “You weren’t–”
“Weren’t what,” she snaps. “Possessed by the dark lord for a year? Made to cast unforgivables on children, had children and teaches cast unforgivables to you, lost someone, nearly died?”
His face pales.
“I still can’t say his name,” she says. “I still break down some days, too. But I don’t blame myself for every mistake, and I’m trying, Harry.”
“Ginny–”
“You aren’t.”
She apparates away, and the next morning, only comes back to pack her bags.
/
And Luna is still gone.
Which is fine. Ginny gets why. Luna doesn’t respond to her letters, but Luna isn’t the writing type, and everyone deals with trauma differently.
Ginny deals with it by keeping herself on a tight leash. She focuses on quidditch. She forgives Harry, and they’re friends, but she doesn’t let herself go back to him.
“We could have been right,” she tells him, “in another world.”
He clinks his glass to hers. “To an us,” he says, “in another world.”
She smiles for the first time in weeks.
/
When Luna appears at her apartment at five in the morning on a rainy Tuesday, Ginny doesn’t yell at her. She’s close. Instead, she swallows, smiles.
“I missed you,” she says, but it sounds angrier than she intended.
“You let the writsprats into your throat.”
“What about the wrackspurts?”
“Hm,” says Luna. “They’re out of your head.”
“Harry and I–” says Ginny, but Luna shakes her head.
“I know. It’s okay.”
Suddenly, the clenching in her heart loosens and Ginny gives Luna a real smile, opens her arms. “I missed you,” she repeats, but this time it sounds less like an accusation and more like a welcome home.
Luna buries her head into Ginny’s shoulder. She doesn’t say anything.
She doesn’t need to.
/
They don’t actually talk about Luna moving in, she just does, gradually. She comes to all of Ginny’s games. Supports her.
Harry tells her, “it feels like Luna would be a better partner than I was.” He doesn’t say girlfriend.
Ginny doesn’t tell him that she wishes Luna was. She’d figured it out about a month after Luna’d come back. They hadn’t talked about why.
All it’d taken was to see her again, smiling, was for Ginny to know. Realizing had felt like coming home.
/
A few weeks later, Luna chops half of her hair with Ginny’s nice scissors. When Ginny comes in to see Luna sawing mercilessly at it, she clears her throat and watches and Luna turns to her, eyes wide.
“Hey,” says Ginny.
Luna doesn’t respond, just bends her head.
“You aren’t steel, you know,” says Ginny, prying the scissors from Luna’s hands and beginning to cut it herself, to make it even. “You’re allowed to be upset.”
“I’m,” says Luna, softly, “I’m this wise, untouchable person to people like you, like Harry.” She watches Ginny cut off more strands of her hair. “Can you make it shorter?”
“You don’t have to be. How short?”
“Really short.”
Ginny gives her a pixie cut.
/
When they sit down at a local cafe, Luna tells her, “I felt–trapped, for months. For you, when the war came, for real, in sixth year,” she says, “it was a relief. For me, it was a nightmare.”
“How–how did you know that?”
Luna laughs. “It came for you in first year, Ginny. And then the rest of the world saw what you had to deal with, alone. It was like you were Atlas, and then the rest of us were forced to hold up the sky, with you.”
Ginny watches her. “So–” she cockes her head, “why didn’t we talk about, all this, earlier?”
“You were guilty,” Luna says, like it’s obvious, and it’s such a Luna thing to say that Ginny has to swallow a lump in her throat. “I wasn’t ready to be vulnerable.”
“So you cut your hair.”
“Everyone has their outlets.”
“Oh.”
/
Ginny hadn’t realized she needs Luna until she lost her.
She’s determined not to lose her again.
“Luna,” she says.
Luna turns.
“I–please don’t go.”
“I have to,” says Luna, like her fate has been written in permanent ink.
“I need you here,” says Ginny.
“Ginny,” says Luna, “you don’t need anyone.” She gives Ginny her signature sad smile.
Ginny pauses. Swallows. Reaches forward, and kisses her softly. Luna straightens, and then kisses her back.
“Please don’t go,” whispers Ginny, again.
Luna smiles against Ginny’s lips. “I’ll always come back.”
She does. She comes back with longer hair, with a couple scars, with a real smile.
She comes back with a ring.
“I love you,” says Luna.
“Oh,” says Ginny.
/
They get married in the summer. Luna wears yellow. Ginny wears white.
