perverbially: (Default)
perverbially ([personal profile] perverbially) wrote on December 11th, 2009 at 04:55 am
(FICMIX: GINNY/LUNA) Golden Egg Lipstick and Feathers
Medium: Books
Fandom: Harry Potter
Subject: Ginny/Luna
Title: Golden Egg Lipstick and Feathers
Warnings/Rating: PG-13 for language... may also contain significantly more than your Recommended Daily Allowance of twee =)
ZIP?: Yes, follow me! (13.8MB; recompiled and uploaded by the lovely [ profile] sariza. Thank you! ♥)
Summary: A short AU series of snapshots into Ginny and Luna's changing relationship post-DH, set to a lo-fi, dreamy collection of songs chosen more for their mood than their lyrics. I really hope you enjoy it.
NOTES: All music links will need changing from hxxp to http. Apologies for the inconvenience. I own nothing.

Texture by [ profile] the_preamble

you picked a stone... you loved a girl ...who lives in parallels

"Oh, I do like your hair," said Luna.

Ginny grinned, embarrassed, and gave her curls a rough rake-through with her fingers. "Really? Mum practically pinned me down and forced them on me, you should've seen Hermione smirking. Did she help me? Did she bugger. I'll get her back though, I'm doing her dress plans with Fleur."

Luna smiled faintly at her friend's benevolent outrage, watching her tug at her styled hair frustratedly in the mirror. "I think it suits you."

"I think you're a liar," Ginny replied, wrinkling her nose. "But you're a sweet one, so I'll let you off."

Unfolding her legs, Luna rose from the bed and crossed to Ginny's side. She picked up one of her own broaches from the dressing table.

"Here, let me."

Gently, she reached up and caught a section of coppery waves in her pale fingers. Ginny's chest caught as the smaller girl's cool skin brushed her neck, so lightly it was as thought she'd imagined it; she prayed for her body not to betray her as Luna twisted the hair deftly into a knot, securing it with the pin.

"There, that's better. It won't get in your way now."

Luna stepped back to admire her handiwork, only to find herself stopped by Ginny's hand, caught in hers, palm pressed against palm.


Luna just looked at her, that coy almost-smile resting on her lips, and said nothing.


show me... the way you worship little things

Hands cling to Ginny's hips, and she is all too aware of the warm, soft shape pressed against her back, the pointy knees nudging at her tail bone. She adjusts their flight path upwards and Luna gives a little gasp, her fingers tightening.

"There, that one, right at the top!"

Ginny urges the broom higher still, aiming for the large chestnut tree in question, although admittedly unsure as to what has merited its selection.

"Hang on, keep your head down a minute..."

She feels the smaller girl duck her head as they navigate through the curtain of uppermost branches, coming to a neat stop over one of the larger, sturdier arms, which Ginny tests with her weight before dismounting. She makes sure Luna is nestled safely into the side of the tree's trunk before sitting down herself.

"Wonderful," says Luna, and in the green, dappled light her eyes are dancing.

"What is?"

Luna smiles, gesturing down into the heart of the tree with her free hand.

"Look. They've just had babies."

Ginny follows her gaze to what at first seems to be a salmon-pink, clutching, grotesque hand, clawing its way from a nest: she looks closer, and the hand becomes at least four small, frail bodies, flapping and flailing feebly.


"Shhh," Luna breathes, taking Ginny's hand in hers and patting it in a soothing manner, as if Ginny were a small child getting overexcited on a day out. "Their mother's here."

As the two girls watch, the larger bird (- "a Jackdaw!" Luna whispers excitedly -) hops nimbly to the nest, to be met by a strangled cacophony of excitable chirruping from the jumbled mass of babies.

"They're so beautiful, aren't they?"

Ginny's first instinct is to say that they are from it, but she finds herself thinking again as she watches the shimmering velvet dark of the mother's wings catch the light. She squeezes Luna's hand.

"Yeah, they are."


i'll be a moment closer to, the brightest hour with you

"Luna, are you awake?"

In the moonlight she can see the back of Luna's head, her pale hair strangely colourless in the darkness, mussed up against the pillows.

There is silence for what seems like several minutes, and Ginny feels oddly frozen, as if this second is a defining moment, one which everything hangs upon. A cold sickness rushes through Ginny's stomach as Luna stirs, rolling over.

"Ginny... hello."

Ginny giggles in spite of herself, and the sound suddenly seems foreign to her ears. "Why do you sound like you were expecting me?"

"I've learned to expect most things," Luna mumbles, blinking sleepily. "But I suppose it also helps that I know you have such awful insomnia."

The smile fades on Ginny's lips. Luna opens her eyes fully, surveying the redhead's hunched posture, the screwed up sheets, the scruffy haystack of red hair falling over her freckled shoulders. She extracts an arm from her duvet, patting the bed beside her. Ginny gets up, unable to hide her grateful smile as she crosses the room on light feet, folding her body into Luna's side with ease.

"So," says Luna, when Ginny is settled comfortably into her bed, "what have you been dreaming about this time?"

Ginny's expression is testy. "Who says I've been dreaming?"

"You have. In your sleep. Every night for the last month."


Ginny feels her cheeks grow uncomfortably hot, but she arranges her features into what she hopes is a frown of defiance, not embarrassment.

"So you didn't think to wake me up, or tell me, or - you know, anything useful?"

"Well," says Luna, seeming to consider the question, "whether my dreams are good or bad, I always like to know how they end. Plus, daddy always said that if you wake someone from a dream, it leaves them far more vulnerable to Wrackspurts in the daytime. It lowers their immunity, you see?"

"Yeah, but Luna, don't you ever just have plain old bad dreams?" Ginny sighs, feeling an edge of frustration enter her voice. "You know, the kind where the only thing you remember when you wake up is how powerless you felt, and even that scares you shitless?"

Luna is quiet for a moment, watching Ginny from the pillow with thoughtful eyes.

"Yes, I suppose I do."

Ginny looks at her, and an unspoken understanding passes between them. She closes her eyes and snuggles into the crook of Luna's arm.

"I'll wake you. I promise."

"Thank you."


there used to be a tree... where we took our pretty things

The first time is not a surprise. They are sitting in their tree once again, watching the bird family from afar. Comfortable silence is where they excel, and this feels no different - until, that is, Ginny's hand is in Luna's hair, and then on her face, and then they are kissing, like they always knew they were supposed to but never found the right moment.

Ginny's lips are strangely rough, tasting of strawberry lip balm and tumbling, recklessly fast broomstick rides in the bitingly cold cloud-line. They fascinate Luna. She traces them like a pattern as they sit there, rough bark staining their legs green, Ginny's hands making their own exploration of Luna's back.

Below them, the baby Jackdaws take turns to test their wings at the nest's edge.

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