Disclaimer: HP isn't mine.
I'm not a religious person - while I believe there's a god, I pretty much leave it at that and let other people haggle over details. Luna, in this ficlet, certainly explores the idea of Heaven much more than I've ever bothered doing.
I dream, sometimes, of dying.
They aren't morbid or terrible dreams, nor nightmares. Generally, they're very peaceful, and I get to see Mother again.
I think I'll rather like dying, when my time comes. Of course, I don't intend to actively seek out death, but I'll admit to looking forward to a place without pain, where the war is just a distant memory.
Sometimes, I wish others could see life the way I do. There are depths of emotion in even the mildest men and women that would, if the universe worked as it ought, set the skies on fire and boil the oceans until the sand beneath them turned to glass.
But if others could see hope, could sense that better things are coming, maybe they'd be less inclined to succumb to anger and despair and cruelty.
Not that most people are cruel to me, exactly...but they aren't kind either. Things are better now that Harry has been seen talking with me in public, but it's always bothersome when my belongings go missing, and I do wish my peers would address me by my proper name instead of 'Loony'. Life can be very lonely, as an outcast.
And because I know what's to come (I did, after all, hear the voices behind the veil, so I know for certain Mother is waiting for me), it's hard, at times, to think of anything here worth staying for.
But then again...I've found there's always small joys around the corner, smiles waiting to worn, laughter yet to be voiced. There are rays of light in the darkness.
The funny thing is, those rays of light are all the more precious, all the more notable, because of the darkness surrounding them.
When I dream of dying, I dream of Heaven. And when I dream of Heaven, I dream of a world where we don't need darkness to appreciate the light.