Red Radishes

She turns her radish earrings around and around in her fingers, twisting them until her skin is coated in red juice. Her knees bounce up and down, her toes curling against the floor. It's only then that he notices she's barefoot.

He stops looking at her, finding a spot to stare at on the wall above her head.

"Luna."

She goes still.

He wipes his palms on his trousers.

"Luna, I am so sorry."

He doesn't know what else to say.

She's barely breathing, but she watches him, her unblinking eyes fastened to his face.

"How are you..." he fumbles, searching for the right words. "How are you doing?"

He swallows and licks his lips. Such a meaningless sentence that is.

She doesn't answer.

"I'm sorry," he says again--helplessly.

"It wasn't your fault, you know," she finally says.

He bows his head.

Maybe. Maybe not.

There are still two horcruxes waiting to be found. If he'd been smarter, faster...

"I never..." she falters and grasps her earrings to her chest. "I never thought I'd have a second reason to see Threstrals."

****

"They came in the middle of the night. They were both asleep. When Mr. Lovegood realized what was happening, he locked Luna in her room." Harry paces as he speaks, his words growing harsher. "She saw everything."

Hermione gasps. Ron sits motionless, his mouth hanging open.

"They tortured him. Crucio. And then they killed him." Harry stops, breathing hard. "Why does this happen? The Lovegoods don't have anything to do with the Order! Why, then? Why would they do this?"

Ron and Hermione have no answer for him. They can only watch as he paces, letting his anger drive him.

"It's not fair," he says, the same helpless feeling pressing on his chest. "We'll never be fast enough."

Hermione's eyes water and she nods.

Ron looks at his hands. "It's never fair, mate."

"I just... I wish I could do something for her."

Hermione takes a tearful breath, her eyes sympathetic. "How do you know you're not?"

****

He remembers how she was at Slughorn's party. Laughter--that's what he can vividly see. She made him laugh.

The dreamy expression is gone from her face. Her eyes are worn, her skin pale. She seems lost, wandering from place to place without purpose.

He feels drawn to her. It's as if Voldemort has done him one more injury. It shouldn't have been this girl.

A week after her funeral, he seeks her out. She's living with her grandparents. The house smells like cats. It reminds him of Mrs. Figg.

Her room is cluttered, filled with half-opened boxes. She is sitting on her bed, humming softly. Her hands clutch a copy of The Quibbler.

As he nears her, he realizes the paper is nearly a year old.

She doesn't look up and her page rustles as she turns it upside down, her head cocking to the side.

"Father left me the company," she says vaguely. "It's closed for now, of course, but one day..."

She sets her paper down and smiles.

"It's awfully nice of you to drop by, Harry."

"Yeah."

He clears his throat, feeling awkward. Fidgeting, he sits down on the edge of her bed.

"I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Oh, alright, I suppose," she says. "Wallow not when life continues on."

Her smile falters and Harry's heart swells. She's so brave, he thinks, admiration filling him.

He takes a breath. "Luna, I just want you to know... I'm going to kill him. Voldemort, I mean."

Luna blinks. "Oh... are you?"

He bites the inside of his cheek, amused by her response. It's so very Luna. He feels his heart lighten. She's going to be okay...

"Yeah. Remember that prophecy?"

She gives a small hum of approval, though her eyes are blank.

"Well... it's... it says that one of us has got to kill the other." He pauses. "And it's more than that. I owe it to so many people."

Luna shifts, folding the paper across her lap. "That's dangerous."

"I know, but I have Ron and Hermione helping me. We've... we've got a plan, I guess you could say."

"That's not what I mean," she says softly. "Revenge can be a very overwhelming desire."

He stares. "I'm not--I mean, yeah, it's... it's revenge, but not like that. I'm not like him."

She studies him, making him blush. He wonders if she believes him.

"I don't want to lose you too," she finally says.

***

"You never talk to me."

Harry blinks, mind slowly coming back to the conversation at hand. "I'm sorry?"

Ginny blows out a frustrated breath. "We," she says slowly and clearly, "never talk."

"Oh," Harry says. "Sure we do."

Ginny scowls. "Not about any of the important things."

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know," she says, rolling her eyes. "Your mission. You-Know-Who. That sort of important stuff."

Harry doesn't know what to say, so he takes a sip of hot cocoa. They're sitting in the Burrow's kitchen--alone. Ron forces them to come back and visit now and again.

"Ginny," he says. "We broke up ages ago."

"I know, but we never talked then, either." She gives him an accusatory stare. "You say you want to be friends, but you don't do anything to back that up."

Harry sighs. He's grateful for the time he spent with Ginny, but it's clear she can't understand what his life is. It's not about exchanging kisses by the lake--not for him, not anymore. She's part of a world he gave up.

"You talk to Hermione," Ginny says bitterly.

"Hermione and I--"

"Are just friends, I know!" Her eyes narrow. "And Luna! You talk to her too!"

Harry sips his hot cocoa and shrugs. He doesn't know what to tell her.

****

Luna's office is located on the sixth and final floor of the First National building in London. It's magically concealed, of course.

He finds her staring out the window, seemingly oblivious to the quill zooming over the parchment on her lap. He clears his throat, but she waits for her page to finish before acknowledging him.

Without speaking, he plunks a copy of The Daily Prophet on her desk. She looks down at it and then back at him.

"I'm the editor of The Quibbler, Harry," she says, as if it's perfectly reasonable to assume he's forgotten.

"No," he says irritably. "Look..."

He points to the headline on the front cover.

"Harry Potter Vanquishers You-Know-Who. For good," she reads, her voice sounding mildly interested. "For more on 'horcruxes,' see our in depth article on page two."

He rocks back on his heels, waiting. "So?"

Her mouth quirks upwards and he can tell she's proud of him.

"So?"

"You didn't lose me, did you?"

She tilts her head to the side, studying him with an intensity that once would have made him uncomfortable. Now he smiles, secretly pleased by her scrutiny.

"No," she murmurs. "I didn't."

"Yeah," he says. They're both grinning at each other now. Harry sits down in front of her desk, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the surface. "I'm not like him, Luna."

She hesitates, her large eyes fixed on his face. "I know."

"I killed him because he left me no choice." He pauses, sliding his fingers along the edge of her desk. "I wish I didn't have to."

She stops the slide of his fingers by resting her hand on his.

"And that's why you'll never be like him."

Harry licks his lips and meets her eyes, their fingers entwining together.

"How..." he clears his throat and tries again. "How are things going for you?"

She slides her hand out of his grasp, breaking the moment--whatever it had meant.

"Good," she says. "I think... I think Father would be proud."

He could see sadness lurking below the surface of her eyes. The deaths caused by the war... they would never truly stop hurting.

"I know The Quibbler is doing well. You make a brilliant editor, Luna."

She beams and he feels his heart jump.

"Thanks, Harry."

He clears his throat. "If you want... I could give an interview...." He blushes, suddenly uncomfortable. "I mean, I reckon it's something I have to do. And I don't really want to do it with anyone else. But only if you... if you're willing, that is."

"Yes, alright."

He bounces his knees nervously, unsure of how to proceed. He doesn't really know how to go about this dating nonsense--still. And it's been so long since Ginny.

"Can I--can I take you out to dinner sometime?"

She raises an eyebrow, her earrings swinging back and forth.

"As just friends?"

"Er..." he releases a breath. "No."

She gives a small giggle and he realizes she's enjoying making him squirm.

"Yes, I'd love to."

"I... really?"

"Yes," she says, giggling again. "Really."

"Great," Harry says. "That's... that's really great, Luna."

He leaves her office feeling lighter than when he'd gone in. Two years he'd spent scouring the earth for Voldemort. And now, here he is, beginning to rebuild a normal life.

And starting with the least normal girl of all.