Luna's Secret: Part Two
Summary: Luna never anticipated how outliving all of the humans on Earth would affect her.
Credit: I forgot to give credit last time, the inspiration for that piece came from the song Toes by Norah Jones
AN: I swear I wrote in the first one that Ginny left Harry for a guitarist after like eight months of dating but I can't find it anymore at all so here it is!
She had aged herself through life, both to keep up appearances and so he wouldn't feel bad, but she allowed herself to look her fae age once more at his funeral. She was too tired to keep it up and what did it matter anymore anyway?
She had wandered up to the casket during visitation amidst stares. She was a willowy young woman, no one recognized her. She had not gotten close to anyone since Ginny. Ginny wasn't here. She had been run over by her rocker husband's bus, nearly forty years earlier. Luna had mourned, but she had found herself laughing in private. It was such a Ginny way to die.
Her father's death hadn't affected her so badly either as it had mingled with a sense of release, finality. She had thought, at the time, that that was the end of her time on with the humans and she could go back to fairyland. But then he came along. She didn't pretend to understand their connection, they were so different. Yet it had happened. Now she suffered.
It was seeing him in the casket during visitation that had made it real to her.
She wound her way through the crowds; so many wanted to see 'The Great Harry Potter' one last time. It offended her, but she didn't speak up.
Micah, their half-fae half-human son had planned it. He had decided that the public deserved one last chance to see their hero. Luna didn't care what the public deserved. Harry wouldn't have wanted to be gawked at like a freak. How he hated that very word! Freak. He had tormented himself with that word during his darkest times, struggled with it even during the light of day. She couldn't help reminding him that if he was a freak, what did that make her? It would make the corners of his mouth quirk, but the small smile would rarely reach his eyes.
She reached out for his hand, pulling it back abruptly at the feel of ice. She gasped, biting back a sob. She had always known that he was mortal, that he would eventually die. Knowing hadn't prepared her. Micah placed an arm around her shoulders and guided her away from the casket. He helped her to a seat and she broke down. She began to sob, true, heartfelt tears coursing down her cheeks. People gaped. Who was this strange woman who sobbed as though she had known the man well yet no one had ever seen before?
The day of the funeral, Luna's son Micah had brought her a Daily Prophet. Luna herself had never ordered the paper, preferring the Quibbler, even after it was taken over by a different man after her father's death.
"I think you should see this, ma," he told her.
Voldemort Slayer's dubious pastimes
By: Carina Skeeter
Harry Potter, slayer of Voldemort, died this past week. But it's more than just that that has people talking. A strange woman, judged to be aged about twenty, was seen at Mr. Potter's visitation for the full period, mourning him as one would expect of a lover. Yet Mr. Potter's wife, Luna Potter nee Lovegood, was not seen at all. So who is this mysterious woman? A mistress, perhaps? A replacement for Mrs. Potter? Will she show her face at the funeral? The public wants to know.
Luna glanced at the paper and then at her son. "So?"
"I think you should wear the glamour to dad's funeral, ma."
"I will not disguise who and what I am any longer. I will not leave you to live a lie in fear."
"You are far braver than me."
"Your father always said that I should have been in Gryffindor."
Micah looked down at the floor, then he looked back at his mother. "Ma? When you leave for fairyland, could I come with?"
"I- Micah, why would you want to?"
"Why do you want to?"
"I am needed here no longer."
"And I am?" he countered. This time it was she who looked down.
"I suppose you could come, if you wish."
"Do you not want me to?"
"I only think that you would be happier if you remained. The fae are not so nice to hybrids." It was a bit of a joke between them, Micah being a hybrid. He had never minded his fae blood.
They left the conversation at that and apparated to the gravesite for the funeral. It was a beautiful day and they had decided to have the whole funeral graveside. The first three rows were strictly reserved for certain people, the fourth row was purposely left empty. Micah had done that for his ma, he knew she would appreciate it. As he guided her up the aisle and into the speaker's seat, the audience that was already seated stared. The pair waited as the seats filled in around them. Luna spoke to no one. Micah chatted lightly with Adria, George Weasley's daughter.
The entire Weasley clan that was still living was also in the first three rows, yet few had tears glistening in their eyes. Molly, who had outlived her entire generation, was one of those few. Hermione Weasley and her daughter Adria both had tears prickling, as did George.
Ron didn't. He couldn't. He couldn't cry anymore. After Fred's funeral, he had broken, become a shell. He couldn't feel anything anymore.
Luna gazed around her, observing yet not participating. She thoroughly ignored the rows and rows of people behind the empty row. Micah was too much like his father sometimes.
She looked at the piles and piles of flowers around the casket, and she finally began to mourn in full. At the visitation the truth had come crashing down on her all at once, now she had had time to process it.
She sobbed for the one man who had finally captured her heart. She sobbed for the man who had been so fully good that Dumbledore, one of the Wizarding World's greatest heros, didn't even begin to compare. She sobbed for the man who had respected her, the first to treat her as an equal and not as something less because she was odd or just because she was a girl. She sobbed for a man so kind, so true, that it was just cruel for the world to take him away, even at age 124. She sobbed for the man who had turned away from the path destiny led him down when he got to the point where he could be done and chose to be a healer instead of an Auror.
The music started, and Luna continued to sob. She cried her heart out through half the funeral until she was dry and felt like a wrung out rag. Then she began to listen, pulling her self together a bit and waiting for her cue. She saw it and elegantly rose from her seat and took the mike from the man who had just sung. The audience stared raptly; no one wanted to miss this.
"Many of you know me," she started. "You just don't think you do. My name is Luna Potter. But, what you don't know, is that this is the real me. I am a fairy and the past ninety years I have aged myself so Harry doesn't feel bad. I truly believe that now that he is dead, he wouldn't want me to hide anymore. I don't remove it out of any disrespect to him, for I loved him more than life itself. He was the one who stole away my heart, and somewhere in the process, I like to believe that I took his too.
"Harry was the most beautiful person inside that I have ever had the honor of meeting. Yet, impossibly, he was not proud of who he was. He was ashamed. He thought of himself as weak, when he was not. He saw the best in everyone around him, and the worst in himself. But he was not blinded by seeing the best in everyone. He saw the bad; he just saw the good shining brighter.
"I will miss him, more than I ever thought possible to miss a mortal. I did not expect to get attached in my time here, I expected to be afraid. I had been told that humanity was one of the most brutal races of all. Yet, along with being brutal, you also have the largest capacity to love that I have ever seen. Harry had that in full. He loved fully, with all that he had, especially when he knew it would not be thrown back in his face."
Luna had thought that she was dry of all tears, yet she felt one sliding down her cheek.
"I still do not understand why he chose to love me. I never once deserved it. But he did, and I am so glad. I am so glad to have seen that side of humanity before I left. I am lucky to have received the chance to come here. I will miss it, for my time here with Harry has been the best years of my life. I loved him, and he will forever be in my thoughts. After all, those who love us never truly leave us. There's a poem that I would like to share with you, it's called Remember by Christina Rossetti. This touched me because I think that it's how Harry would believe.
"Remember me when I am gone away,
"Gone far away into the silent land;
"When you can no more hold me by the hand,
"Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.
"Remember me when no more day by day
"You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
"Only remember me; you understand
"It will be late to counsel then or pray.
"Yet if you should forget me for a while
"And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
"For if the darkness and corruption leave
"A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
"Better by far you should forget and smile
"Than that you should remember and be sad.
"He would not want us to mourn and forget to live, though neither should we forget him entirely. Thank you for allowing me to speak." Tears had begun to stream down her cheeks during the last two lines and as she sat down they ran unchecked once more.
When she sat, Molly whispered to her, "That was beautiful, sweetheart."
"Thank you." She managed to smile slightly had the kind woman who had tears streaks on her face. Somehow, in the 97 years they had been married, Luna had never noticed that other people loved him too. There were other people here who were hurt, possibly nearly as much or even as much as she was. It was a bit of a reality check for her.
The rest of the funeral passed in a blur for Luna. Suddenly, his casket was being lowered into the ground and she stepped forward to throw the first handful of dirt on top of it. The world seemed to slow as she watched the dirt fall. It hit the decorated lid of the casket and scattered. Luna's sharpened eyesight watched every granule of soil as it bounced slightly, lost its momentum, and settled. A glittering tear followed it, landing on the lid. She traced its path down the lid and into the earth. She continued to stare at the lid as Micah's handful clattered onto the lid. His arm wound around her shoulder and he guided her gently away from the hole in the ground.
"It is time for me to go, Micah. Will you be accompanying me?"
He thought for a bit; he never had been one for hasty decisions.
"The fae are not kind to hybrids, you said?"
"No. We as a species are not."
He glanced at Adria, waiting for her turn to throw a handful of soil. "I think I will stay." She smiled broadly at him.
"You are the best of both worlds, Micah. Never forget that."
With that, she was gone.
AN: I'm curious, did anyone notice Luna's speech quirk?