Summary: Luna has a secret. Harry wants to know why she's letting the ocean wash over her head. HP/LL
Harry didn't understand why he went to the ocean. What drove him there? He didn't know. It was an impulse, a feeling. He had learned at an early age to follow his instincts, this was no different.
He got in his car (He had gotten his driver's license at Hermione's insistence and now found it a most enjoyable way to travel) and let his hands take control. They led him to a rocky part of the coastline. He parked far enough away that his car engine wouldn't be heard and walked through a small stretch of forest. He broke through and spotted a lone figure, her hair whipped around her slight figure by the fierce wind.
She was unmistakable to him, even from this distance. He had been fascinated by her for years. She was the epitome of what he wished he had the courage to be. She should have been in Gryffindor. She had the courage to be who she truly was, who she wanted to be, no matter what anyone else thought of her.
She stared out at the endless blue, her arms wrapped around her frail figure, shielding against the cold.
Abruptly, she turned and began to walk along the edge of the cliff. Harry followed, staying close to the edge of the forest, able to duck in if she turned. She didn't. She continue to walk. And walk. And walk. The cliff began to shrink. It became closer and closer to the water until it dropped away, replaced by a long stretch of beach.
She showed no signs of stopping. Harry's feet felt like they were going to drop off. He hadn't walked this far in a long time.
Just as abruptly as she had turned to start, she turned once more to face the ocean. She didn't stop, however. She kept walking, straight into the tumultuous waves. The wind roared, tossing the waves around her. He kept waiting for her to stop. She didn't. Her head dipped under the waves. He lunged, finally realizing that she wasn't planning on stopping. He waded as quickly as he could, weighed down by his heavy denim jeans. He opted for regular clothing over robes majority of the time. It still felt more natural.
He thrashed through the salty water, finally reaching her. He took a large breath and got a mouthful of salt for his troubles. He managed to fill his lungs and ducked under, hooking his arms under her armpits and heaving. She did not struggle. She was exuding her innate calmness, even while drowning. Harry was opposite.
He was panicking. He dragged her up on the beach and pulled out- reached for his wand. He found himself scrabbling for empty air.
He swore silently. He pushed and pushed his mind to remember the CPR classes he had signed himself up for when he was nine. Aunt Petunia had only agreed after forcing him to promise to save her 'precious Diddykins' if he was choking. An adult with only one 'rescuer' meant 15 compressions per 2 breaths. He shut the panic away. This was not the time.
'Open the airway, two initial breaths,' he told himself. He shut all his emotions behind the Occlumency shield that he had finally perfected, if a little late, and began professionally trying to save his close friend, who had gotten closer and closer to him as the years went by, especially recently.
She choked up so much water Harry wondered how it all fit in her slim form before she came around. She looked about her, puzzled, as though this was not where she had expected to wake up.
"Harry?" she asked hoarsely. He gave her a drink from his water bottle, propping her head so she could drink. "Why?" she continued, "Why did you save me?"
"Why did I need to?" he countered. "What on Earth were you doing?"
She looked at him. He stared back. After a long period, she finally looked down at her hands, which rested in her lap.
"I do not belong here. I was sent here because I had a part to play in the war. I stayed as long as I did because my father needed me. He died last week. No one needs me here any longer. It is time for me to go."
"You don't belong here? You were sent here? What are you talking about Luna?"
"My name is Leila McPhee. I am a fairy. I was born in the world of fae and sent here because the fae have extreme sensitivity to the possible outcomes of the future. They determined that the war would cause the least destruction if a fae child was sent to influence the results. I am not human. I do not belong."
"Who says you don't belong? You do. You have convinced yourself that you do not belong here."
"I do not," she said firmly. "And as no one needs me any longer, I was trying to leave, before you halted my progress."
"That's not true."
"You do not believe me."
"I do, honestly I do. I think that you are misguided however, in your though that no one needs you any longer. I need you," he admitted.
"You do not."
"I do, though, Luna. I... I have troubles with, er, sanity. I... You keep me sane. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"You do not need me," she was insistent while remaining emotionless in tone.
If telling her wouldn't work, he decided, he would have to show her.
He kissed her.
He kissed her with all that he had, soft and sweet, yet demanding and insistent. It was at the same time gentle and passionate. It left both of them breathless.
She opened the eyes she hadn't even known she had closed. She looked him in the eyes, glowing emerald green in a way they never had before, and found she couldn't look away.
"I need you," he whispered. Her only response was to initiate a kiss herself.
AN: Please review and please please please vote in the poll in my profile! Neither one takes that long!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Boy-Who-Will-Not-Die or Luna or Ginny or any other HP characters I mentioned