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perverbially ([personal profile] perverbially) wrote on December 22nd, 2009 at 02:20 pm
(FIC: GINNY/LUNA) The First Christmas After
Title: The First Christmas After
'Ship: Ginny/Luna
Genre: Fluff, angst. 
Warnings/Rating: PG-13 for language. AU. Super vague mentions of character death and imprisonment.
Summary: The first Christmas after the war, and everyone is in limbo. Ginny finds a little peace with Luna.
Notes: I have no beta, because I am too shy to ask for one. As such, all fail is belonging to me. That said, I hope you enjoy this little bit of shameless seasonal fluff, and I wish you all a wonderful holiday :D

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Guilt, Ginny thinks, is what Christmas has come to mean in their house.  

Guilt because they're here. Guilt because others aren't. Guilt for not being faster, or smarter, or any one of a hundred other things that probably wouldn't have changed a thing anyway.

And now, Ginny feels guilt for escaping it.

She sits watching the swirling white sky, damp eyelashes catching snowflakes, the tearful argument that drove her outdoors in the first place finally silent through the virtue of distance. She feels a tug of shame at removing herself from it, but reminds herself that dad had been the one to usher the rest of them out, muttering soothing words over the shaking shoulders of his wife. Maybe they all just need a little space.

"Hello."

Ginny jerks, hand at her wand in an instant, but she relaxes again just as quickly when her eyes meet the slight shape that greets her.

"Hi, Luna."

Luna is bundled up in (what Ginny counts as) three cloaks, a knitted cardigan, gloves, a scarf, and a large woolen beret pulled down to her ears. She manages a smile as she sits down beside Ginny.

"Your dad's still making you go out like that, then?"

"Yes," Luna replies, pulling off her gloves, "I know he means well, but it really is getting quite frustrating... and I get so dreadfully overheated with all these layers."

"Come here," says Ginny, standing up and pulling Luna with her. She hauls the first cloak off, then the second, but leaves the rest. She understands Mr Lovegood's fears all too well. Underneath the remaining coat and cardigan, Luna is like a baby bird, all delicate little bones and concave hollows. Months underground in a damp basement had not suited her, and every part of her body shows it.

"Have you had your lunch yet?" Ginny asks as they sit back down, huddling together instinctively for comfort.

"Oh yes, we had ours early, daddy wanted to get started on the first print run."

"Oh, right. Um, well, did you eat much?"

Luna gives her a look. "I ate plenty."

"Oh. Good."

They are both quiet for a moment, watching their breath on the air. Then Luna takes Ginny's hand.

"Why are you out here, Ginny?"

Ginny stares down at their hands, at Luna's bitten nails. She sighs. "Probably the same reason as you are. It's just ... completely, utterly mental in there," she says, thumbing over her shoulder in the direction of the Burrow. "I needed some quiet. We all did."

"Oh dear, and I came and interrupted?" Luna says, forehead crinkling with concern.

"Nah, of course not. It's not like you're exactly noisy, is it?" Ginny gives her a little smile. "Honestly... it's just... well, it's just shit at home at the moment. That's why I'm here." Luna doesn't say anything, and Ginny feels her words start to tumble out. "Nothing feels right, you know? I don't know how I feel about anything. I don't know how to help. Mum can't stop crying, and I can't fix it, and neither can Dad. George is in his room all the time. Ron and Harry... I don't even know what they do all day, eat and sleep it seems like. Hermione's gone back to her parents for the holidays, so I'm all alone with Fleur with no one to talk to and it's just... shit."

A tear drips down her nose, and Luna wipes it away. Her fingers are icy on Ginny's cheek, and she snaps to her senses, reaching for Luna's gloves.

"God, if I send you back home with hypothermia, your dad'll kill me..."

Luna waves her away, catching her second outstretched hand and enfolding it in her own. 

"It won't be like this forever, you know."

Ginny looks at her, and compares the empty despair inside her chest with Luna's words. She doesn't know if she believes her. Luna seems to understand. 

"It won't go away completely, of course. But it will get easier to live with. I promise."

Another tear escapes Ginny, and Luna catches it once more.

"Do you want to come back to my house for a sandwich?" she asks gently. "Then I'll walk you home again, if that's what you'd like..."

The offer of a warm kitchen, food and much less complicated company is tempting, but Ginny finds herself shaking her head, wiping her nose with a tissue she has dug out of her pocket. "I should really go see how they are, I've been gone ages. Maybe things will have calmed down a bit... "  

Luna gives her a faint smile, nodding. "Yes, that's a good idea."

"But thanks for the offer. And, you know, for this. Thank you."

"Oh, that's quite alright. Now, can you help me remember what order these cloaks were in?"

Giggling, they wrap Luna back up, until Ginny can only just see the white edges of her face amidst the layers. Ginny adjusts her beret last, setting it an angle, the way Luna usually wears it.

"There, you're good to go. He won't notice a thing."

"Thank goodness!" Luna smiles, and she gives a twirl, her scarf trailing in the breeze behind her.

"Hey!"

She comes to a stop. "What?"

Ginny catches the offending scarf and tugs it lightly, pulling Luna to her. She presses her lips softly against the blonde girl's, and pulls back, looking into Luna's open, milky-white face.  

"Have a good Christmas."

Luna blinks, but a smile crosses her lips. "You too."  

-- fin --
 
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