FICLETS! Holiday: Day Thirty-Two
I thought there were more, but this is the last!
For keenai
Luna/Neville
Luna sits on the edge of the dais, the teacher’s table behind her. There are bodies strewn about in the Great Hall, some dead and some dying, others merely exhausted and worn. She’s holding someone’s wand, though she’s not sure whose. It might be her own, but it doesn’t feel right, and it might be her mother’s, though that doesn’t feel quite right either.
She turns it over in her hands, running her fingers along the smooth wood. She wonders what lies at the heart of it, what magical core is beating inside the glossy surface. They’ve brought down fire in Hogwarts today - hexes and curses. Killing words have been spoken and worse, people dying and writhing in pain.
“Do you wonder?” She asks aloud, looking up to see Neville’s surprised expression.
“Wonder what?” He sits beside her, looking just as tired as the rest of them though his eyes are bright and his cheeks flushed. This victory is all of theirs, but some of them hold it closer than others.
“We did things to bring about a better place. Things we were taught never to do.” She holds out the wand and points it at one of the plants they’d used in the battle, broken and shattered. She whispers a spell and the tendrils curl in, weave together, rebuilding. “Do you think they didn’t teach us these things because they hoped we’d never have to learn?”
“They knew we would,” Neville reminds her. “They knew he wasn’t dead. Wasn’t gone.”
She nods. “That’s what I thought.”
He looks at her then at her hand. “That’s my wand.”
“I know.” She nods again, smiling at the plant. It’s healthy again, green and vital, its blooms deceptively beautiful. “I could tell.”
There'll be at least three more fics today! Whoo!
For keenai
Luna/Neville
Luna sits on the edge of the dais, the teacher’s table behind her. There are bodies strewn about in the Great Hall, some dead and some dying, others merely exhausted and worn. She’s holding someone’s wand, though she’s not sure whose. It might be her own, but it doesn’t feel right, and it might be her mother’s, though that doesn’t feel quite right either.
She turns it over in her hands, running her fingers along the smooth wood. She wonders what lies at the heart of it, what magical core is beating inside the glossy surface. They’ve brought down fire in Hogwarts today - hexes and curses. Killing words have been spoken and worse, people dying and writhing in pain.
“Do you wonder?” She asks aloud, looking up to see Neville’s surprised expression.
“Wonder what?” He sits beside her, looking just as tired as the rest of them though his eyes are bright and his cheeks flushed. This victory is all of theirs, but some of them hold it closer than others.
“We did things to bring about a better place. Things we were taught never to do.” She holds out the wand and points it at one of the plants they’d used in the battle, broken and shattered. She whispers a spell and the tendrils curl in, weave together, rebuilding. “Do you think they didn’t teach us these things because they hoped we’d never have to learn?”
“They knew we would,” Neville reminds her. “They knew he wasn’t dead. Wasn’t gone.”
She nods. “That’s what I thought.”
He looks at her then at her hand. “That’s my wand.”
“I know.” She nods again, smiling at the plant. It’s healthy again, green and vital, its blooms deceptively beautiful. “I could tell.”
There'll be at least three more fics today! Whoo!