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HP444- Paper Swans
🕑 Added 2025-06-11 13:11:04 +0000 UTCLuna’s idea of a meeting place turned out to be a slope behind the Owlery, where the wind whistled through half-frozen grass and little folded paper birds flapped aimlessly in the breeze, their wings charmed to twitch and flick like they were real.
She was lying on her back in the middle of them, hair fanned out like a lazy spill of moonlight, cloak unbuttoned and a box of Bertie Bott’s open beside her.
“Try the grey one,” she said before Harry even got close. “It tastes like smoke. Possibly legal.”
He crouched beside her, picked up the grey bean, eyed it, then ate it anyway. “Tastes like the inside of Filch’s filing cabinet.”
“That’s the one,” Luna said, beaming up at the sky. “You’re late.”
“Not really,” Harry said, sitting down cross-legged beside her. Harry stretched his legs out, boots catching a stray paper swan. It fluttered indignantly and flew off toward the trees.
“So,” he said, plucking a jelly bean from the box. “You summoned me with origami.”
“They are memory birds,” she replied. “They are meant to fly home once you’ve learned something.”
“And what am I supposed to learn today?”
Luna rolled onto her side, propping her head up on one hand. “You are terrible at resting.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “This is supposed to be resting?”
“You are sitting, aren't you?”
He chuckled and dropped back onto the grass beside her, arms folded behind his head. The clouds hung thick above them, letting just enough light through to pretend it was still afternoon. Luna shuffled closer, resting her head against his shoulder like she’d done it a hundred times before.
“You don’t seem particularly troubled by the cold,” Harry said.
“I’m wearing three jumpers,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Besides, it’s warmer when someone’s thinking nice things nearby.”
Harry snorted. “Is that one of your new theories, or just a convenient excuse to steal my body heat?”
“Bit of both,” she said, eyes still on the sky. “Also, I think you’ve stopped blinking. That’s a sign of overuse.”
“Of what?”
“Your brain.”
He laughed quietly. “Good to know. I’ll try not to overheat.”
They lay there for a while, letting the paper swans drift lazily overhead. One flapped directly into Harry’s fringe before realising it had made a mistake and darted off like it had somewhere important to be.
Luna pointed at it. “That one’s particularly dramatic. Must have been folded from a Divination essay. I swear Professor Trelawney's handwriting make them go erratic, as if they are unbound.”
“Explains the flair,” Harry muttered.
Luna rolled onto her back again, humming softly under her breath. He recognized the tune, something weirdly familiar from the trip to Forbidden Forest. The night they’d had to leave early. The strange hum that had stirred Ginny’s mind.
He turned his head towards her. “Ginny said that melody gave her a dream.”
Luna nodded, still staring at the sky. “Hmm. She told me too.”
Harry shifted, resting on one elbow to see her better. “You knew what it was back then?”
“Not exactly,” she replied. “But I could feel it in the ground. It was old. Not dark, not like curses are… just old and curious. Like it was listening back. Magic doesn’t always have intentions. Sometimes it just echoes. If you’re open, it finds you.”
Harry gave a small grunt. “Not sure Ginny appreciated the echo.”
“She said it was a wedding,” Luna murmured, almost musing now. “Yours and hers. White flowers and birds that weren’t birds.”
He flicked a pebble off the grass. “I would rather avoid Divination dreams. They are too inconvenient.”
Luna let the paper swan go. “Then don’t treat them like prophecies. Just… keep them in your pocket. For later.”
Harry let out a low snort, amused despite himself. “Brilliant. More things to carry.”
“You’ve got plenty of space,” she said, glancing at him sidelong. “I’ve seen your trunk.”
“Are you suggesting I file away wedding visions between duelling schedules and cursed objects?”
Luna grinned. “If it helps.”
They stayed like that a moment longer, watching as two of the paper birds tangled mid-air and then fluttered off in separate directions, offended.
He glanced at her again. “Since when did you start sounding like McGonagall?”
“McGonagall wishes,” Luna replied, brushing a bit of grass off her cloak. “She doesn’t hum to rocks.”
“No, but I bet she hexes them when they misbehave.”
They both laughed, and Luna flopped back with a contented sigh.
“Do you think the others are still fighting over who gets the last kiss of the night?” she asked lightly.
Harry shuddered, shifting slightly on the grass. “I can feel Astoria scheming. Gotta lock my door.”
Luna tilted her head, completely unbothered. “She is probably drawing blueprints. With glitter ink.”
“Brilliant. That means it isalready past phase one.”
Harry exhaled slowly. “You lot are exhausting.”
“You enjoy it.”
“I tolerate it.”
“Same thing,” Luna said, stretching her arms up above her head, the sleeves of her jumper falling back to reveal mismatched bracelets. “Besides, no one else has a harem calendar.”
Luna plucked another bean from the box. “This one tastes like ink.”
Harry didn’t bother asking why she sounded pleased about it. He shifted, adjusting slightly so Luna’s head rested more comfortably against his chest. One hand found its way into her hair, fingers drifting idly.
“Seen any more visions?” he asked, voice low but casual, like he was asking if she’d done her homework.
She shook her head against him. “Only the once.”
Harry hummed faintly. “Let me know if that changes.”
She gave a small nod but didn’t say anything, just settled in a bit more.
He dropped a kiss to the top of her head and left it at that.
They lay like that a while longer, the paper swans circling lazily above, some caught in the grass, others bumping into each other like confused insects. A few spiraled off into the distance.
Eventually, Luna sat up, blinking at the sky. “I think one of those flew into the Owlery. That is going to confuse the owls.”
Harry stretched out on his back again, hands behind his head. “They will cope. If they can handle Ron’s handwriting, they can handle anything.”
She smiled faintly, reaching for the last jelly bean and tossing it into her mouth. “Ink again. Still better than soap.”
He let out a low chuckle. “That is a low bar, Lovegood.”
Luna stood up, brushing the grass from her cloak, then held out a hand. “Come on. I promised Susan I would send you back in one piece.”
They made their way back down the slope, snow crunching faintly underfoot. Before she turned off toward the castle, Luna stopped. Harry paused too, already half-expecting it. She looked up at him, eyes calm in a way... just Luna.
“Your soul was too loud today. It needed somewhere soft to land,” she said simply.
He didn’t answer. Just stepped closer, hand brushing her cheek like it wasn’t even a question. She tilted her head, leaning into it a little, eyes still on him.
He kissed her then.
When he pulled back, she didn’t blink. “Alright,” she said, like it had confirmed something only she had been testing for. “Go on. Don't keep Susan waiting."
He laughed, stepped away, and left her standing there amongst the drifting swans like it was the most normal thing in the world.
