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HP422- You Always Do
🕑 Added 2025-05-06 21:39:54 +0000 UTCLuna tugged Harry forward without waiting.
Inside, the house looked like someone had challenged gravity to a duel and lost. Shelves leaned in odd directions, stacks of books covered every surface, and some kind of windchime made of cutlery hung from the ceiling. The kettle whistled like it was trying to start a fire.
Xenophilius swept in ahead of them, robes covered in ink stains and something that looked like lemon pulp. “I’ve got that honeyroot blend you like, Luna. And something new for Harry—beetleleaf with elderflower. Calms the blood.”
“I like my blood unsettled,” Harry said, setting Luna’s suitcase beside a couch that might’ve been alive. “Keeps things interesting.”
Xenophilius laughed like that was the most reasonable thing he’d heard all week. “Excellent. I’ll add lemon, then.”
The kitchen table was shaped like a mushroom, with chairs that didn’t match and one stool that seemed to creak in protest whenever anyone touched it. Luna slid into her usual seat, and Harry took the one across from her. A strange creature skittered across the windowsill and vanished into a jar.
“Right,” Xenophilius said, pouring tea into mismatched cups. “Now that you’re here, I’ve got a new edition of the Quibbler to show you. We’ve uncovered fresh Ministry cover-ups involving Flobberworms and illegal furniture charms. From Fudge's time, of course.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Illegal furniture?”
“Yes, yes,” he said, waving a hand. “Self-charming armoires. They try to redecorate your house while you’re sleeping. Terribly invasive.”
Luna nodded seriously. “One of them repainted my walls with polka dots last year.”
“You did that,” her father reminded gently.
“Oh, right,” Luna said. “But I had a good reason.”
Harry took a sip of the beetleleaf tea. It didn’t taste bad. Sort of earthy, with something that reminded him of crushed leaves and lemon rind.
“You planning to publish anything on the disappearances?” he asked, tone casual but pointed.
Xenophilius blinked. “You mean the eastern reports? I’ve heard whispers. Some call it magical storms. Others blame rogue blood rituals. Quite a few pointing fingers at rogue spirits from abandoned Shinto shrines.”
Harry didn’t even react. “None of that makes sense.”
“Precisely,” the man said, beaming like that was the point. “Which makes it worth looking into.”
Luna was already halfway through her second biscuit, not looking the least bit concerned. “The stars said this month would be important,” she said. “They also said to avoid sour milk, but I ignored that part.”
Harry smiled at her, grabbed another biscuit, and leaned back in the creaky chair like it didn’t just complain about it. “You sure you’re not bribing me with sugar?”
Luna reached for her own cup, completely unbothered. “If I were, it would’ve worked already.”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he bit into the biscuit. Not bad. Slightly overbaked, but it had charm.
After tea, and once Xenophilius wandered off to rearrange his spice cupboard—something about cinnamon conspiracy—Luna stood up and offered a hand with a lopsided smile. “Want to see the fields?”
“Your fields?” Harry asked, eyebrow raised. “They still haunted?”
“Only a little,” she said cheerfully.
He grabbed his coat from the hook near the door and followed her out. The wind outside had picked up, but the sky was clear. Pale blue stretching into the edge of dusk. Fields stretched out ahead of them, frost clinging to the edges of tall grass. The air smelled like cold soil and leftover lemon tea.
Luna tugged her mismatched scarf tighter and pointed toward the old windmill. “That used to be a snail house.”
“Seriously?”
“No. But wouldn’t it be fun if it were?”
Harry laughed lightly. “You and fun ideas. Dangerous combo.”
They walked side by side, boots crunching lightly on the frost-hardened path. The windmill ahead looked like it had been repaired with leftover broom handles and old cauldron lids.
“Why do you like this place so much?” he asked.
Luna swung her arms a little. “Because it’s not pretending. Everything here just... is.”
Harry considered that. “You think Hogwarts pretends?”
She glanced up at him, her hair catching the breeze. “Not Hogwarts. People. There, they try to fit. Here, they just are.”
“Alright, Socrates.”
“I prefer Hypatia,” she said, completely serious.
They reached the edge of the field where tall grass hid uneven stone fences. Luna climbed up on one like she did it all the time, balancing on the uneven rock with no care.
Harry stayed on the ground. “You fall, I’m not catching you.”
Luna smiled at him, eyes half-lidded like she already knew how this was going to end. “I know you will. You always do.”
Then, without warning, she shut her eyes and just leaned forward—arms out, no balance, like a winded bird giving up on flight.
Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered—right before stepping forward and catching her without much effort.
She landed against him, not with force, but with enough weight to make it clear she hadn’t exactly braced for impact. Her arms hooked around his neck loosely, like she’d done it before, and her breath tickled the side of his jaw.
“You’re warm,” she said casually, like she was commenting on the weather.
“You’re freezing,” he replied, arms settling at her waist to keep her from slipping. “What did you expect, standing out here like it’s July?”
“It’s not that cold.”
“Your nose is red.”
“That’s from excitement,” Luna replied, voice muffled slightly against his scarf.
Harry huffed a short laugh and adjusted his grip slightly. “Sure. Call it whatever you want.”
Then Luna peeked up at him, head still tilted against his chest. “You’re not uncomfortable, are you?”
Harry gave a short shrug. “You fall out of nowhere, I catch you. That’s how this works.”
“Is that an official rule?”
“Only for you.”
She smiled again—this time wider. “Then I’ll make sure to keep falling.”
Harry muttered, “Already regretting this arrangement,” as he helped Luna up and over the fence. She didn’t make it easy—too much fabric, not enough balance—but he caught her elbow before she could tip forward.
“I’m light as a Snidget,” she said cheerfully, landing on the other side with a bounce.
“You may weigh like a Snidget, but you fall like a sack of potatoes,” Harry replied, brushing a loose strand of her scarf off his shoulder.
Luna beamed, clearly unbothered. “Potatoes are very trustworthy. They always grow.”
Harry gave her a look, half amused, half confused. “Is that your defense?”
“I like potatoes.”
He shook his head, smiling a little, and climbed over after her. The field beyond the fence was all uneven dirt and patches of stubborn frost that hadn’t melted despite the sun. It crunched under their boots, the kind of cold that clung to your ankles.
Luna grabbed his sleeve, not to hold him back, just to keep close. “This way,” she said, pointing toward a hill that looked identical to the other three behind it.
“Of course it is.”
They walked in mostly quiet for a bit. The wind wasn’t bad, just enough to tug at their coats now and then. Luna didn’t seem bothered at all. Her scarf had started unraveling again, trailing behind her like a lazy ribbon.
At the top of the hill, she stopped and turned around, arms out like she was showing off a new exhibit. “This is the best spot,” she said. “You can see all the way to the edge.”
Harry stepped up beside her, looking out. Sure enough, the land dropped a little, and from there, the woods came into view. Further still, the shimmer of the wards was faint but there. "This is the best spot for shouting. The wind carries the words.”
He looked at her. “You brought me to yell into the wind.”
Luna nodded, perfectly serious.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “You go first.”
She grinned, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted something entirely incomprehensible. It sounded like a mix between a battle cry and a nursery rhyme.
Harry stared. “What was that?”
“A warning to the frost gnats,” she said, as if that cleared anything up. “They’ve been rude lately.”
He didn’t respond. Just turned, took a breath, and yelled, “Stop dragging me into this!”
Luna clapped. “That was very heartfelt.”
“I thought so.”
