One Day Without Hindrance
candle in the window
One day, they're walking. Walking through the park upon a path that's lined with trees. Pansy has her hair tucked carefully inside of her hat, ebony being the color of the day. Luna lets her hair hang free, and it dances in the wind to its full potential; Pansy doesn't want to think about the knots Luna will need to untangle once they return home, and how difficult it would be, right now, for Pansy to run her fingers through them.
Luna hums quietly to herself, a small smile fixed upon her lips. Every few steps she takes have a slight bounce to them, as if she's skipping yet not. This makes Pansy giggle, something she doesn't often do in the company of others—or even when she's on her own.
They don't talk much; simply being, and being together, is, more often than not, enough. They share smiles of a secretive kind, looks that might mean nothing to some and the wrong thing to everyone else. Expressions of affection that are safe to do in a world that tries to understand, but doesn't. More often than not, they don't mind this so much. Outside, they can walk together, talk together, like the best of friends. Inside, they can press their lips together, sleep together, and no one will know or see.
Except for one moment one day, when suddenly, that isn't enough. That day is when Luna abruptly stops smiling; her mouth turns downward in a frown, and her eyes are even more thoughtful than they were just before. Her steps slow and then cease, until she's paused in the middle of the path, in the middle of the trees and a park that's always so peaceful.
"Do you see that, Pansy?" she asks softly.
Pansy looks, following the line of Luna's gaze. It doesn't take long for her to notice the man and woman walking along the same path as they are, holding hands and laughing.
Pansy pretends she doesn't see them. "What, the…" She looks round quickly. "That branch? Up there? I think it looks very stupid; someone should cut it down."
"Oh, not the branch," Luna says serenely, as if she doesn't know that Pansy is lying. "Though someone really should cut it down, because it's probably infested with Limpurts. I meant those people."
"Which people?" Pansy asks lamely. She doesn't like thinking about those who can do things that she can't, people who have what she has but can flaunt it all they like.
Luna blinks at her. "They're coming toward us. They look very happy."
Pansy scowls as the woman leans over to the man and kisses his cheek.
"I think we should do that sometime."
"We do, Luna," Pansy frowns. "We've done a lot more than just hold hands like lovesick idiots."
"I know. What we do is nice. I like it very much. But I think we should do something where other people can see us. We never do that. I don't know why."
"Because girls aren't supposed to like other girls," Pansy growls.
"I don't like other girls," Luna tells her, looking confused. "I like you."
Pansy's cheeks color themselves pink. "Yeah, well, we're supposed to like boys," she fumbles.
"I've liked boys," Luna says thoughtfully. "Ronald was funny, and Harry Potter was always very helpful. I liked them." She tilts her head subtly to one side. "I never kissed them. I've kissed you."
Pansy doesn't know what she can say without feeling foolish. She doesn't know how to explain something to Luna that's supposed to be mutually understood. But then again, maybe it never was. Maybe, Pansy thinks suddenly, Luna's never minded being who she is. She's never really cared that she's different, or even noticed, for that matter.
"I like liking you," Luna continues, "and I think that people should know. Daddy always says that people should be able to know things, even if all they do is ignore them."
"I don't want people to know!" Pansy snaps, and Luna looks hurt. "What do you expect them to do? It's not like they would actually ignore us! Not with you being you and me being me. They already think it's weird enough that we talk to each other!" She lets out a humorless laugh.
"Do they?" Luna raises her already raised eyebrows. "That's quite strange of them."
"No, it's not. Don't you get it? If you started, I don't know, snogging me right now—"
"We would be like a candle in the window," Luna finishes smoothly.
Pansy stares at her. "We'd what?"
"We would be like a candle in the window," Luna repeats loudly and slowly. She doesn't realize that Pansy heard her clearly the first time. "When it's dark, everyone can see it burning. It brings light to everything around it."
Pansy blinks, and her mouth falls open, just a bit.
"That's why I am going to start kissing you right now, Pansy Parkinson," Luna tells her determinedly. "I don't think we should stay in the dark."
Pansy can stop her, but right now, she doesn't know whether or not she should. Luna always says things as if they're so simple, even if they really aren't and only serve to confuse.
Luna kisses her deeply in a way that used to surprise Pansy, because she never knew that someone with the innocence of a child could feel so much. Now, on this one day, it's almost a surprise again. Luna's lips are soft against hers, and they're enchanting in a way that she's never been able to explain, even to herself. Pansy allows herself to fall limp, acquiescing to what she wants and what Luna wants because maybe this is what they deserve.
One day, they're kissing. Kissing in the park upon a path that's lined with trees, with a man and a woman and the Earth to serve as witnesses. A spark ignites, a candle is lit, and it's placed in the window so that someday, maybe everyone else will see.