Ficlet
Title: No Heroes
Rating: PG
Summary: "Luna is not alone."
Disclaimer: Not mine.
SHIPs: Harry/Luna
Comments: Very sad, angsty one-shot. Can you tell I'm slightly depressed at the moment?
No Heroes
Luna is not alone.
When she goes down to breakfast, she ignores the non-existent hand that brushes her own on its way to the Gryffindor table. Her housemates stop and stare at her lack of morning cheer.
When she goes back up to the Ravenclaw dormitories to fetch her books, she hears non-existent laughter coming and going with the wind. She slams the windows shut, even though it’s summer, and the tower room is hot and stuffy. Then she sits down on her bed and wills away the non-existent thumb that caresses her cheek and wipes away her tears.
She gets to class late that day, and is rewarded with two detentions: one for tardiness, and the other because she forgot her books.
‘What’s wrong?’ a non-existent voice asks her when she collapses on her bed at the end of the day. ‘What happened?’
‘You happened,’ she answers through her tears, and the one other person who’s in the room with her stares at her as if she were mad.
The next day she forgets to get up when her alarm goes off, and when she does wake, it’s to non-existent hands shaking her.
‘Leave me alone,’ she says, as non-existent lips kiss her tears away.
‘What did I do?’ the non-existent voice whispers in non-existent confusion.
Luna doesn’t answer. She can’t.
Professor Flitwick lets her off for missing Charms when he sees her puffy, red-rimmed eyes. Luna smiles and nods, and tries to ignore the non-existent breath that she can feel on the back of her neck.
‘They all think I’m a hero,’ the non-existent voice says after lunch. ‘They talk about me like I’m a dead hero.’
‘You are,’ she answers.
‘Which?’ it asks her. ‘Dead or a hero?’
‘Both,’ is Luna’s final word.
Non-existent laughter echoes around her. ‘Nice try,’ the non-existent voice says. ‘One of these days I might even believe it.’
Luna refuses to answer.
She manages to get to her classes on time, today, and they are a blessed release from the non-existent hero that shadows her.
‘You told me I was your hero once,’ the non-existent statement comes to her by the lake, and she shivers, drawing her scarf tighter around her and pretending that it’s from the cold.
‘You are,’ she says. ‘Were. You’re dead.’
‘Don’t be silly: I’m right here.’
‘You don’t exist,’ she says, and then walks away.
Luna sits next to Ginny in Herbology. ‘Are you okay?’ Ginny asks quietly, under Professor Sprout’s sympathetic stare.
‘He’s still here,’ she replies, and Ginny frowns.
‘He’s dead,’ she says.
‘I know,’ Luna answers.
‘He died a hero’s death.’
Luna’s smile is empty of emotion, and Ginny goes back to her work.
In the evening, Luna slams all the windows shut again, to the irritation of her housemates. She climbs the stairs to her empty dormitory and does the same there, and then she sits on her bed and cries.
The necklace he gave her is on her pillow, when she knows that she put it right at the bottom of her trunk.
‘Are you mad at me?’ the non-existent voice asks her sadly.
‘Yes,’ she says.
‘Why?’
‘You died,’ Luna answers.
‘Am I really dead?’ the non-existent voice says uncertainly the next morning, and Luna knows that she was watched the whole night through, by non-existent eyes.
‘Yes,’ she answers.
‘If I can’t save you, though, who will?’ he asks.
‘No one,’ she replies. ‘No heroes. Not any more.’
The wind flutters lightly through the windows that her dorm mates opened during the night, and her heart clenches painfully for a moment before it is gone.
The wind drops and there is silence.
Luna is alone.
And so it is,
The shorter story,
No love, no glory,
No hero in her sky
-The Blower's Daughter, Damien Rice
Rating: PG
Summary: "Luna is not alone."
Disclaimer: Not mine.
SHIPs: Harry/Luna
Comments: Very sad, angsty one-shot. Can you tell I'm slightly depressed at the moment?
No Heroes
Luna is not alone.
When she goes down to breakfast, she ignores the non-existent hand that brushes her own on its way to the Gryffindor table. Her housemates stop and stare at her lack of morning cheer.
When she goes back up to the Ravenclaw dormitories to fetch her books, she hears non-existent laughter coming and going with the wind. She slams the windows shut, even though it’s summer, and the tower room is hot and stuffy. Then she sits down on her bed and wills away the non-existent thumb that caresses her cheek and wipes away her tears.
She gets to class late that day, and is rewarded with two detentions: one for tardiness, and the other because she forgot her books.
‘What’s wrong?’ a non-existent voice asks her when she collapses on her bed at the end of the day. ‘What happened?’
‘You happened,’ she answers through her tears, and the one other person who’s in the room with her stares at her as if she were mad.
The next day she forgets to get up when her alarm goes off, and when she does wake, it’s to non-existent hands shaking her.
‘Leave me alone,’ she says, as non-existent lips kiss her tears away.
‘What did I do?’ the non-existent voice whispers in non-existent confusion.
Luna doesn’t answer. She can’t.
Professor Flitwick lets her off for missing Charms when he sees her puffy, red-rimmed eyes. Luna smiles and nods, and tries to ignore the non-existent breath that she can feel on the back of her neck.
‘They all think I’m a hero,’ the non-existent voice says after lunch. ‘They talk about me like I’m a dead hero.’
‘You are,’ she answers.
‘Which?’ it asks her. ‘Dead or a hero?’
‘Both,’ is Luna’s final word.
Non-existent laughter echoes around her. ‘Nice try,’ the non-existent voice says. ‘One of these days I might even believe it.’
Luna refuses to answer.
She manages to get to her classes on time, today, and they are a blessed release from the non-existent hero that shadows her.
‘You told me I was your hero once,’ the non-existent statement comes to her by the lake, and she shivers, drawing her scarf tighter around her and pretending that it’s from the cold.
‘You are,’ she says. ‘Were. You’re dead.’
‘Don’t be silly: I’m right here.’
‘You don’t exist,’ she says, and then walks away.
Luna sits next to Ginny in Herbology. ‘Are you okay?’ Ginny asks quietly, under Professor Sprout’s sympathetic stare.
‘He’s still here,’ she replies, and Ginny frowns.
‘He’s dead,’ she says.
‘I know,’ Luna answers.
‘He died a hero’s death.’
Luna’s smile is empty of emotion, and Ginny goes back to her work.
In the evening, Luna slams all the windows shut again, to the irritation of her housemates. She climbs the stairs to her empty dormitory and does the same there, and then she sits on her bed and cries.
The necklace he gave her is on her pillow, when she knows that she put it right at the bottom of her trunk.
‘Are you mad at me?’ the non-existent voice asks her sadly.
‘Yes,’ she says.
‘Why?’
‘You died,’ Luna answers.
‘Am I really dead?’ the non-existent voice says uncertainly the next morning, and Luna knows that she was watched the whole night through, by non-existent eyes.
‘Yes,’ she answers.
‘If I can’t save you, though, who will?’ he asks.
‘No one,’ she replies. ‘No heroes. Not any more.’
The wind flutters lightly through the windows that her dorm mates opened during the night, and her heart clenches painfully for a moment before it is gone.
The wind drops and there is silence.
Luna is alone.
And so it is,
The shorter story,
No love, no glory,
No hero in her sky
-The Blower's Daughter, Damien Rice