Dire Times Call For Dire Measures
Could my obsession with Grindeldore run any deeper? I think not.
I'm not particularly pleased with this. I think that it says what I wanted it to say, but not nearly so eloquently as I would have liked.
Title: Dire Times Call For Dire Measures
Author: scarysnapey
Words: 423
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Angst
“Take my hand.”
Ginny does. She reaches out blindly, grabbing hold of Luna’s hand in this dusty, dank part of the library that she’s never been in. It’s looking more like a labyrinth by the second, hosting fewer windows and taller bookshelves.
And then they’re standing in front of a painting, as dusty as the carpet and the flecking paint on the walls. Luna looks up at it, and Ginny follows suit, and a gasp rushes from her throat.
The painting is of two men, one tall and skinny with flaming red hair, the other shorter with hair that was gleaming blond. They smiled down as Ginny and Luna watched them, and the men mirrored the young women in expression and appearance.
“Look at the caption,” Luna said quietly, and Ginny leaned forward and wiped away the dust.
Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore
Friends First
“Do you know anything about them?” Luna asked. Ginny shook her head. “Dumbledore sent him to prison. But he had a hard time doing it, you know, because they were such great friends.”
Ginny nodded. The dust made her nose itch.
“I want us to be like that,” Luna said. “I want us to be the kind of friends where we would almost rather be bad than stop being friends. Friends first, before anything else.”
“Almost,” Ginny repeated. The hypnotic feeling of the sun streaming through a murky window was making her dizzy. They’d never stopped holding hands.
“Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley,” Luna whispered. And then she kissed Ginny.
---
That night, Ginny stood in the showers and scrubbed her skin until it was raw, until she could almost forget Luna’s hands. She stared at the clean, white tiles and tried not to think about the painting. She tried to forget the eerie smiles, the almost broken liveliness of the people contained within.
Ginny tried not to think about it, but when she pressed her head onto her pillow that night, willing her lips to forget Luna’s kiss, she couldn’t help herself.
Ginny wondered, if Luna wanted them to parallel history, who would be the hero and who would be the villain? But she pictured the look in Luna’s eyes when she looked at the painting, and Ginny knew the answer.
That only made her wonder harder, though. If it came down to it, would she have the strength to battle Luna?
Friends first, she thought and curled up in a tiny ball beneath her sheets.
Someday, if it happened, Ginny would try her best.
For Luna.