Luna's Song

Luna's Song

They tried to make it last.

It did not.

When it was over, and he was bent looking over the pieces and she was trying to hide her eyes, he was mad. No one could blame him.

How? How could he have missed the signs? How could he have been so blind to what was happening right in front of his face? How when most people said that their feelings for each other were so obvious? How when they thought they were obvious, also?

Those feelings first came to realization in the Great Hall. She was sitting across the table helping their best friend with his Divination homework (though she detested the subject deeply). With her quill she scratched out something he had written, jotted something else down, and after their friend mumbled that he was 'such an idiot' she laughed...and that was when he noticed.

She had a beautiful laugh. It lit up her whole face, even her eyes. Her eyes...Merlin, they seemed to be burning passionately at that moment.

His heart leapt, his tongue swelled, and his hands got sweaty. The tension in his stomach frightened him; he diverted his eyes and continued a conversation he had been having with another friend of theirs, a fifth year Ravenclaw girl. He noticed, though, that she was looking at him a bit longer than usual. It took their friend calling her name for her attention to turn away.

That night their conversation was wonderfully uneasy and filled with numerous nervous 'umms', 'yeahs', and laughs. Their friend had gone to bed as soon as he returned from a meeting with a professor, and they sat by the fire staring at the flames. They talked of Quidditch, though it was short-lived. They moved on to Arithmancy, but he soon found his head too full of information to continue. She giggled as he recalled a snow war he and their mate had waged during Christmas break one year.

When he finally worked up the courage to lay his hand on top of hers, she didn't protest. They slowly slipped into talk of what it was going to be like when school was over the next year and stayed up later than ever before.

Four days after they discussed dating. They had to sneak it in to their schedules because their best friend was hardly absent from their side and they wanted to consider such matters in private. Thank goodness their evening activities differed slightly. He stalled five times before he actually brought up the subject and she blushed furiously.

Three weeks into the affair it became an official relationship. No drastic changes occurred at first but they made it a point to sit beside each other when they could. For a while it was a lot of secret hand holding and nervous conversation coupled with awkward glances out of the corner of their eyes. Then...

It was The Row (as the witnesses would later refer to it when discussing the situation with the unfortunate souls who had missed out) that put all of their other rows to pure shame. He cursed words at her so awful that many older students put their hands over the ears of the stunned first and second years. She hissed insults so deep that fellow friends felt insulted. They blazed on in heated glory, fists waving and threats flying, until they were so purple many thought they would pass out. Then, just when the spectators were sure he was going to shake her, he stunned them all and kissed her for the very first time.

From that moment on they acted like lovesick fools. They were inseparable unless they had engagements that required them to be apart. They openly held hands, gazed at one another, teased, and used pet names that turned the stomachs of any who were in hearing range. The rumors danced around the halls about how close they had become, especially after such a turbulent and angered friendship, but it sailed in one ear and out the other. They were so focused on what they shared they did not even notice that the professors had took a distanced interest.

The spark was never the same as that first night, or The Row, but it did not affect their enthusiasm. They were comfortable with each other. They cared about each other enough that they put in the extra effort to make their relationship work.

Two months and two days before their graduation he told his family and their best friend that they had intentions of one day marrying, but that he was not going to officially propose until later. It was a confidence kept among them. With a war raging all around, there was no promise that day would come.

It was a reality they lived with every breathing moment, even in the depths of their sleep. While the Dark Lord had a very specific murder in mind he would kill anyone that stood in his way...and even some he just felt like ridding the world of. Certain Death Eaters also had their minds set on both of their ends.

Sometimes, late at night, they would sit by the fire and she would cry into his shoulder. Others they would lay awake, staring at the top of their four-posters, wondering what the other was thinking and praying that somehow they would make it through. More than just losing one another there was the overwhelming possibility of the death of their best friend. They were not going to back down from the fight but the uncertainties were enough to drive anyone mad.

The final battle took place the day after they all graduated, right on the grounds of their school. The Dark Lord had used his trickery and stealth to break past the magic protecting Hogwarts, but to his greatest misfortune they were ready for him. All fought with courage, everyone from the members of the Order of the Phoenix, to the sixth and seventh years (the only students allowed to remain at the school once Professor Dumbledore learned of the Dark Lord's plans), to the staff, and even the parents who had come to see their children graduate.

There were multi-colored flashes of light from curses, hexes, spells, and jinxes flying all around the otherwise dark battlegrounds. Witches and wizards screamed as they watched a loved one fall, got hit by a painful curse, or met their demise. A thin fog invaded the surroundings and those who were aggressively participating moved like shadows. Enough people were running around that it created chaos and separated those who had vowed to fight side by side.

They fought on, not knowing what was happening around them but knowing they had to. Friends, family, and enemy fell, some seriously injured...some dead. They lost each other in the hustle. They fought on. When they thought they could not take anymore and wanted to give up, they did not. Until the fog cleared and the sight of the Dark Lord, wandless, facing his enemy met their eyes, they fought. Then they stopped.

Everyone stopped, Death Eaters more anxious than the rest. The Dark Lord was screaming and waving his hands about. His opponent stood calm, defiant of every death threat that had been uttered about him, watching the irate man. Then, without warning, Voldemort fell to the ground. Still no one moved. Mummers sounded through the field of bodies.

Was he dead?

What was happening?

Why wasn't Harry moving?

A masked Death Eater pulled away from her crowd and tore back her hood. It was Bellatrix Lestrange and tears were streaming down her face. Trembling, she knelt down beside the body of her Lord. A moment later she let out a scream that sounded more like a howl and they knew. Lord Voldemort was dead.

Two things happened simultaneously that made everyone gasp. With a commanding voice and a flick of his wrist, Professor Dumbledore bound and chained every Death Eater still alive and then knocked them out with a spell that kept them still upright.

Harry Potter fell to his knees.

He wanted to run to him but he couldn't. His leg had been seriously injured in the battle and the only reason he was standing was thanks to the support of his Ravenclaw friend. As they slowly made their way to him he looked around for her. He hadn't seen where she had gone. He was sick with worry wondering if she was still alive.

Wind touched his face as she came streaking past him, not even hesitant to see how he was. Bushy hair flew behind her as she charged up the hill, dropping to her knees and throwing her body into Harry's. They clung to each other, sobbing.

They inched on, Ron Weasley eager to see his best friend and hold his girlfriend. They were just a few yards away when his support system stopped.

"Luna? What's wrong?"

Luna Lovegood said nothing but continued to stare at the two people in front of them. He turned his head. Then he looked again. He felt his heart fall through his stomach and shatter. His other leg grew weak and he started to stumble. His eyes got watery and he wanted to vomit.

"Hermione..." He whispered desperately, finding it hard to breathe.

But Hermione Granger did not hear him. Or if she had, it did not register.

Ron started to cry. After everything they had been through together, after a two-year relationship with a five-year friendship beforehand, after a promise of engagement...

"Hermione," he whimpered one last time before he fell to his bottom, eyes barely able to watch the scene before him.

Luna instinctively knelt down with him. With a sharp inhale that pierced her lungs, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Words failed her, and all she could do was try and comfort Ron, as vain an attempt as it was.

All the while, Hermione and Harry continued kissing as if the most important and influential wizards and witches in their lives were not looking.

***

Ron's broken heart was sudden, and with little closure, he found his escape from the pain in a bottle.

For years he tried to get rid of her memory. Nothing ever worked. Some days he was sober, most he was not. He kept well enough to get a job after school, but that only lasted for a while. Everything he made went to fund his addiction.

Every living moment was a sharp, stabbing reminder of his reality. He was in love with someone who did not love him back yet had once promised herself to him under the pretense that she was. He had no job, little social life, and fewer close friends. All that he had achieved in school (Head Boy, Quidditch Captain) now amounted to nothing except a few plaques. Everything in his life seemed pointless.

Harry and Hermione tried to visit him, sometimes together, sometimes separately. It did no good because Ron would not even bring himself to look at Harry. All Ron had desired in life Harry had received, even his girlfriend. New racing brooms and beautiful dress robes Ron could forget about...the woman he wanted to marry was another story.

Lord, how Hermione tried to make him understand. She told him everything, starting with how she never really understood her feelings for Harry until the last few days of the war and concluding with how she thought she really had been in love with Ron and that she had really wanted to marry him. Quietly, she stated that things just did not work out that way and she was sorry.

Ron heard none of it, but only saw his happiness being experienced by someone else. Once, in a sober state of mind, he had gone over to Harry and Hermione's flat for reasons he never remembered. Through the front window he saw them dancing, so obviously in enthralled with the moment that Ron vomited right on the sidewalk. He did not knock and wound up outside the Leaky Cauldron in Muggle London face down on the street.

Fred and George Weasley were two of the victims during the Second War. In their last will and testament they left their joke shop to Ron. After the reading Ron refused ownership. He did not want to be reminded of his brothers on a daily basis. Ginny Weasley and her boyfriend, Neville Longbottom, took over the responsibility. But when a few months later Ron came crawling to them broke, jobless and homeless, they let him take over.

He barely lifted a finger in the daily operations due to his usual unconsciousness. One would never tell by looking at the shop, however, because Luna had stepped in to take care of not only the business but also Ron himself. Her heart had been broken right along with his, for different reasons, and she took it as her task to help him back into normal, functioning society.

It was useless.

People gave up trying because they grew frustrated with Ron's ignorant and stupid behavior. Hermione would still call sometimes, trying to get through to him. Harry would attempt a conversation if they passed each other in public. Only Luna and the remaining Weasleys kept pushing.

No matter what they put in, though, everything washed back up at their feet.

When Ron's heart had died, so had his desire to care.

***

On the morning of the day Ron and Hermione would have been married for three years, Ginny Longbottom woke up breathing heavily. Wide eyed, she stared into the darkness, her face full of terror.

Neville stirred beside her then sat up abruptly. His concerned eyes studied his wife for a moment. Quickly, he reached for his wand.

"Lumos." Neville held the light close. "Ginny, what's the matter?"

"Ron," she finally muttered after more heavy breathing. "Something's wrong with Ron, I can feel it. I had a horrible dream, but I don't think it was a dream, Neville, I think it was real..."

Before she could go off in a tangent, Neville summoned their night robes and dressed both of them. It was three o'clock in the morning, but with his love that hysterical he did not care. They were going to go over and see Ron, just to find him as he had been for the last four years. It was not the state they wanted him to be in, but if it calmed Ginny even in the slightest it would be worth it.

They used the Floo Network to the shop because, as a good a witch as she was, Ginny was in no mind frame to Apparate. Everything was black when they entered the front room and Neville found that a bit puzzling. It was a full moon that night; shouldn't there be some sort of light streaming in the windows? Neville whispered 'lumos' and turned towards the front. Well that was even more odd...he had not seen the shop with black curtains since the War...

"Neville!" Ginny started to fall but he caught her, raising her back on her own two feet. His mind was racing. This could only mean one thing.

"Maybe, maybe...they're redecorating and they don't want any passers to see." It was nonsense. Ron would never have the shop redecorated.

Without warning Ginny disappeared from his arms. Neville sighed and followed her, sure she had gone upstairs to the two-room flat Ron had. He was so afraid of what he was going to find there...or of whom he was not going to find.

Outside the door to living room/bedroom they stood, staring. A burning W had been engraved into the wood. Ginny, with shaking hands, opened the door.

There was no room for hope. The W said everything. Without even stepping two feet inside, Ginny burst into tears.

A fire was burning and everything appeared normal, except for the man lying face down in his pillow. Ginny crumpled into a ball on the floor. Neville, stunned, had to see for himself. Maybe he was just sleeping. Maybe it was just a big mistake.

But it was not a mistake. Ron's face was stone white and his lips were blue. One hand was curled around a bottle, close to his head, and the other around a piece of parchment. It was torn and looked old, and while it was none of his business, Neville could not help but look.

One line was scrawled. I'll love her till I die.

"Why?" Neville asked as he replaced the parchment and stared down at his deceased brother-in-law. Tears ran freely down his face. This had been more than just an in-law; he was a Hogwarts housemate and a friend. Why? Merlin, why?

Neville returned to his wife and both sat on the floor, clinging to one another and crying.

What they failed to notice was that someone else was in the room. On the other side of the sofa bed, with a tear streaked face and a larger piece of ripped parchment in her hands, was a softly singing, horribly trembling, Luna.

***

The funeral was the next day. Mr. Weasley, Bill and his wife Fleur, Percy and his wife Penelope, Ginny, and Neville were the only family present, being the only ones that had survived the war. Luna stood beside Ginny and let her cry on her shoulder as she continued her song.

Hermione and Harry stood off to the side, avoiding glances. Hermione was in tears and Harry was straight faced. Ron's death had hit at their very cores and had shaken them both very visibly.

Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Kingsley Shaklebox, and Minerva McGonagall were the only Order members that the Weasleys had asked to come. It was a private, sad affair, and they wanted to keep it intimate. Still, they had called a few of Ron's classmates. Even though they had not seen Ron in years they came to pay their respects.

Dean and Padma Thomas, Seamus and Lavender Finnigan, and Lee and Katie Jordan could not help but shake their heads in disappointment. They had already buried four Weasleys and now a fifth. It was a tragedy because Ron did not have to die. He could have lived a full, healthy life, but his choices had led him down a path that broke more spirits than his own.

The small group stood around the gravestone underneath the Willow where Ron and his mates had experienced many adventures. No one said anything, but all thought of the life wasted. Some looked at Hermione and Harry but no one blamed them. They all knew both had tried to reach out to Ron, to make amends, to be friends again. They all knew that Ron was dead due to his own stubbornness...all except one.

As Ginny cried, Luna sang on. There was one word, and the sad, haunting melody seemed only appropriate coming from Luna at such a time. It was almost as if angels were mourning his death also, singing to try and lull the pain and sorrow brought on by their loss.

Yet, in it's own special power, it made them all hope that wherever Ron was, he was finally healed.

La, la, la la, la, la, la...

La, la, la la, la, la, la...

***

Rumors flew as to what had actually happened, but not a single soul knew for positive. The idea of having Healers examine his body for a cause was too much. Ron had suffered enough in his life; in death they would let him rest.

Ginny and Neville took back the shop. It ran just as efficiently as ever and Luna stayed on to help. Both Longbottoms insisted that if she wanted to she could leave. They would understand. Luna would hear none of it. Her father's magazine was running better than ever and she needed something to do other than sit on the family fortune.

Really, it was because of the guilt that coursed through her veins every day. What happened to Ron was not her fault, but no one knew that she blamed herself without doubt.

All those years before, when she was still a sixth year in school, she had fancied Ron. She thought she had made it perfectly clear in her fourth year, but she stepped it up a notch the next. There were no more outrageous hats, or silly songs, but she did talk to him any chance she got. Sometimes she would sit with him at lunch even though they were in completely different houses. When it had come to the first match of the year, Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor, Luna proudly supported Gryffindor (though she wore her house colors) and yelled for Ron any time he did something good.

She thought that Ron just might fancy her, too. It was in all the signals she thought she was receiving. He would smile at her when he saw her, wave sometimes, and even ask how she was doing. When they sat together at lunch he would always listen to her talk and seemed to be interested. One night she complained about a long essay Snape had assigned and Ron's face screwed up in disgust.

"Snape is the worst; I'm so glad I don't have advanced potions like those two." Ron jerked his head towards Hermione and Harry who were working on an essay for another professor. "Listen Luna, if it gets really tough I'll help you out a bit. Hermione taught me a few tricks about lengthening essays and meeting all the requirements; I wouldn't mind passing them on to you." Then he smiled and...be still her beating heart...he winked at her.

Luna looked dreamily at Hermione and Harry. How wonderful would it be if Harry and Hermione became a couple, and Ron and herself soon after? They could spend their afternoons and evenings together, all as friends. Granted, Luna knew she would never be a close member of their circle, but she would have Ron and that would be enough.

To her it was so obvious Harry and Hermione would one day realize their feelings for each other, so she could only hope that maybe Ron would realize feelings for her.

That day, however, was the fateful day that started Hermione and Ron's relationship. Hermione had scratched out something on Harry's essay, laughed, and then heard her name. She turned towards them, but said nothing. Luna noticed Ron stare at Hermione and it was awkward for the younger girl. Especially since Hermione seemed to be staring back. Were they having some sort of fight? That fire in her eyes had been for Harry, obviously, because it was he she was sitting beside, helping, and laughing with. Why was she looking at Ron that way?

Luna did not like it a bit. Hermione already thought she was a bit off her rocker. For the brilliant Gryffindor to be looking at Ron that long did not settle well with the almost as equally intelligent Ravenclaw. Not that Luna would ever interfere should something happen between the two...but this thought process was crazy! While some people she knew thought Ron and Hermione were mad not to realize they had feelings for each other, she knew whole heartily that it was Hermione and Harry who were mad not to realize what they felt.

It came as quite a shock when, a few weeks later, Ron told her that Hermione was his girlfriend. How could she have missed it? How could she have read all those signs wrong? The jokes he told her, the semi-flirting, the smiles that made his nose wrinkle in the cutest fashion...

She had thought long and hard over the situation and it still did not make sense. Hermione glowed when she was with Harry. Around Ron she was just herself. For Harry Hermione did almost anything and everything she could even when she did not have to. For Ron she was frustrated and fought with him constantly. Hermione respected Harry in the same way Luna's mother had respected Luna's father and...it just was not the same with Ron. What had she missed?

For the next two years she remained friends with the lot and watched Ron and Hermione's relationship carefully. She also watched any interaction between Harry and Hermione that she could. Part of her was handling the situation fine, though she still fancied Ron, but something felt amiss. Something that was more than her personal feelings having to be kept secret...

As the end of her sixth year grew to a close, and the War escalated, Luna watched Harry fall into a withdraw that seemed peculiar, even for him. He was quiet, which was sometimes normal, and he was reserved, which was also sometimes normal, but it was around the last two people Luna would have expected him to back away from in his greatest time of need. Whenever Luna was around Ron, Hermione, and Harry at the same time she could not help but notice how Harry hung back by himself, hardly participating in conversation and barely even looking at them. Once she had seen Hermione touch his shoulder and ask him a question. Harry jumped, looked at Hermione with wide eyes, and then shook his head and left the Great Hall. Hermione watched after him and shrugged but was still obviously concerned.

Luna knew then. She also knew she had to do something because if things went on this way it could seriously affect their friendship.

Just to make sure she was not jumping into another pool of assumptions Luna tracked down Ginny and Neville. In a whisper she asked them if they had noticed Harry act differently than before. Ginny looked at Neville before she turned to Luna and simply said, 'yes'. It was all the confirmation Luna needed.

Without knowing how she was going to approach the subject she followed Ginny and Neville back to the Common Room. Harry was by the fire staring at the rug when Ginny approached him and told him that Luna wanted to talk to him for a minute. He did not seem too interested, but she had to say what was dying to come out. She did not blame him for not wanting to talk, though; it was not easy being Harry Potter.

They stood outside the portrait of the Fat Lady and because there were ears around, Luna pulled a piece of old parchment out of her bag and started writing. When she was done she handed it to Harry.

I know your secret.

Fearfully, his eyes grew round and his face drained of color.

"Luna..." Harry stopped because Ron and Hermione were approaching. He shoved the parchment behind his back and when Hermione asked him what was going on, Luna jumped in to answer.

"I was just asking Harry if he knew any recipes for good pumpkin tart. I've tried my Mum's old ones but nothing really has stood out. He was just being kind enough to write down the ingredients for me." She smiled so convincingly that Ron couldn't help but smile back.

Hermione sensed something afoot, however. "Harry, I didn't know you baked." She looked at him curiously, as if that look alone would cause him to blurt out the real reason.

He stumbled for his words. "I...I...don't..." Voice caught, eyes a mess of emotion, Harry didn't try to finish his sentence. He just stood, looking at Hermione, on the verge of tears.

If that didn't send flares off to any looking, she didn't know what it was going to take to make people see.

Luna cleared her throat. "He was kind enough to go down to the kitchens and ask Dobby if he knew any good recipes. I can't wait to go home this summer and try them out." Again, that smile and wide-eyed look. Ron kept grinning.

Hermione still knew something was wrong. "Oh, well that was very nice of you, Harry." She gave him an odd look. "Ron and I have to study, so we'll talk to you later."

They entered the portrait hole, and after it closed, Harry sighed. "You're a quick thinker, Luna. Thank-you."

Luna did not smile, but watched him patiently.

Harry looked at her and then the parchment like it was ludicrous. Luna was wise to the situation, though, and if he did not appease her now she would jump him about it later. With the War he did not have the emotional energy to handle that. Quickly he scribbled and then thrust the paper back into her hand.

They're my best friends.

Luna considered this a moment, wrote, and then handed it back to Harry.

She loves you. As crazy as some people might think I am, that's not a hallucination.

Harry read those lines for what seemed like eternity. Eventually, he took to just looking at the parchment in whole. When Dean Thomas and Padma Patil passed and said hello, Harry snapped out of his daze and wrote his reply.

I'm not going to hurt Ron.

Luna was quick.

Don't you love her?

Harry sighed. He had to put the parchment against the stone wall to write, for this response was a bit longer.

Ron has never been happier. Hermione is happy as well otherwise she wouldn't be with him still. What if I tell her, then die against Voldemort? I can't hurt her like that. My heart doesn't matter in this situation...only hers. Either way I...I...can't.

Then, further down on the paper, added as somewhat of an afterthought, was one last line.

I'll love her till I die.

Luna let Harry be for the evening, but she was not satisfied. The next day, when Harry and Ron had Quidditch practice, Luna found Hermione alone in the library and seized the moment.

"Hello, Hermione," she said softly as she sat down beside the girl.

Hermione's smile looked tired. "Hi, Luna. How were classes today?"

"The usual magic," she replied briskly. "I need to discuss a matter with you that's of a fair amount of importance."

Hermione set down her quill, which Luna took as a wonderful sign of complete attention. "What is it, Luna?"

Knowing Hermione was smart enough to figure out what she was saying without coming out and saying it, Luna decided to keep the people she was referring too with secrecy. "There is this pair of friends I've been watching and I've come to firmly believe they love each other. I don't want to just approach her and tell her she needs to be honest with herself but I'll feel really horrible if I don't say something. What if she's been living in denial of her feelings or fears he doesn't feel the same way? It's a horrible way to live; I'm sure you can imagine."

Hermione's face paled. She looked away as she nodded her head.

"With this war, what happens if one of them dies and they don't tell each other? The other is going to have to live with that for the rest of their lives."

Again Hermione nodded her head. Her mind was somewhere else.

"How do I tell her?" Luna asked, as she watched carefully.

There were tears in the corner of her eyes. Hermione whispered hoarsely, "She already knows."

Luna smiled. She had gotten through. Albeit this wasn't the reaction she was hoping for, but it was enough. "Good-night, Hermione."

Hermione did not respond as Luna walked away.

The wait began. Luna backed off so that Harry and Hermione would not feel like they were being watched by a hawk. She did not want to pressure them into anything they were not ready for, but she did not want them to live in denial anymore, either.

Nothing changed. They graduated. The next day the battle began. Luna was with Hermione and Ron when the fighting broke out and she stuck close to their sides as they watched the ugly scene unfold before them. Somehow Hermione was separated from them but Luna was determined to stay by Ron's side. She still had her feelings and if somehow she became seriously injured she wanted her last chance to tell him how she felt.

But the worst that happened to them was bad Leg Locking curse that resulted in falling on a rock at the wrong angle. When Ron went down she threw a hex so horrible at the one that had hurt him that he fell over backward and blacked out. Immediately after she dove down to him and asked if he was all right.

"Yes, Luna, I'm fine. I just need to find Hermione. Can you help me up?"

And she did, without question, even though Ron weighed a good amount more than she did. When they were up straight she looked around for Hermione and that was when she saw Harry facing Voldemort.

What happened after the battle shocked her for years to come. She was glad Hermione and Harry were honest with each other but she never thought they would open up in such a public way and without telling Ron first. The poor boy had no warning and as he cried she could not help but let her own tears fall.

For the next four years she tried to help Ron get over his depression. She would sit with him for hours, talk to him, and try to make him talk to her. She would go on walks and bring him back flowers. She would clean up his mess every time he puked. When he was too drunk to stand she would be by his side, helping him up or laying him down. She took care of the store, all of it. She fielded questions from customers that came in and handled grieving family and friends. More than once she had listened to Ginny rant and she took it all in stride hoping Ron would one day just wake up.

It never happened.

Then one night, when she was close to breaking down herself, an idea floated into her mind. She was going to show Ron the note and maybe it would help him see that Harry had never any intention to hurt Ron, that he was going to even deny his love for Hermione because he didn't want to see Ron hurt.

Arriving at his flat she knew something was wrong. There was something in the air...something that recalled memories from when she was a child. Tears welled up in her eyes before she opened the door.

She knew that smell.

She knew the feel of death.

How long he had been gone, she did not know. He was already cold.

The first thing she did was lean down and kiss him on the cheek. Whispered, ever so softly was her final confession.

"I love you, Ronald."

She had to attend to the signs of death next. As the last spell his wand would cast, Luna put the flaming W on the outside of his door just as she had seen done at the Burrow four times in one moment. Then she went downstairs, summoned the curtains, and hung them on the window, along with a note that said the shop would be closed for a week.

Upon re-entering his room Luna lost her nerve to move. This was her fault. She had told Harry and Hermione to admit their feelings and when they did it left Ron a broken man. It was the reason he had turned to the bottle that had killed him. She was the reason he was dead.

In her anguish she looked at the note and burst into tears. She tore the bottom part of the parchment off and stuck it in his hands. It was fitting; his life had become that simple, yet profound, sentence. She found another bottle (as there were many in the flat), and was going to stick the rest in to be thrown away when she could not stand anymore.

Ron was dead.

The man she loved was dead.

She was the reason he was dead.

Sobbing, she fell to the floor behind the couch and stayed there until Neville found her the next day.

Working at the shop never took her mind off Ron, but that was okay with her. In a way she felt guilty of murder. This was her punishment.

It was enough to drive even Luna insane, and while she resisted the urge for a time, she soon found herself drowning in the same hopelessness that Ron felt. The love of her life would never be hers. One night the bottle found its way into her hand and she never put it down again.

She would hide the liquor on her breath from everyone. Charms worked the best and while she was not particularly good at them she became good enough at those. No one really noticed a difference, what with her usually wide eyes and nonsense talk. But it grew worse. The more she blamed herself the more she drank.

It was not long before she was never sober. She always came to work but Ginny usually sent her home before half the day was through. Ginny was worried but she did not know what was wrong with Luna.

Luna spent her nights alone with the fire whiskey, brooding over her life. Why? Why couldn't she have just left well enough alone? Harry had said it; he would have been fine.

Maybe Ron and Hermione would have ended the relationship anyway, and Harry and Hermione would have gotten together. Ron would still be alive, and Luna could finally admit her feelings. More importantly, Ron would still be alive.

Maybe Harry would have worked up the courage to confront Hermione about the situation and they would have sat and talked to Ron. Ron would still be hurt but he would still be alive...maybe.

She took a long drink out of the bottle and buried her face in her pillow.

Maybe...maybe...maybe...

***

Luna did not show up for work one morning. Ginny told Neville it was fine and if they did not hear from her the next day they would check on her. Perhaps she was just ill and couldn't manage to owl.

A few hours later they got a call from Mr. Lovegood. Had they heard from Luna?

Ginny and Neville told the other employees they would be right back and Appararted to Luna's flat.

"Neville...I'm afraid...." She clung to her husband's hand as they searched the apartment. The only room left was her bedroom. With tightly shuteyes they opened the door.

It was evident. This time Neville was the one who could not move and Ginny was the one that had to make sure.

Same white face, same blue lips. Ginny put a hand to her mouth and sobbed. There, clutched in Luna's stiff arms, was a picture of Ron.

***

They buried her two days later.

Mr. Lovegood stood over his daughter's grave with pain that only a father that has lost both his wife and his only child could feel. No one approached with condolences. Not a word they could mutter would mean a thing. Yet, he knew they were sorry.

Hermione and Harry were there. They stood closer to the mourners then the last time they found each other at this spot. Luna was a friend. She had been so special. Now Hermione was the one that let Harry cry on her shoulder.

The Weasley's stood silent, scared from another loss of someone close. They couldn't handle much more of this. Their loved ones were dying before they even got a chance to grow old. It was not fair.

Classmates, teachers, friends, and Order members gathered round to grieve. She had been such a bright, quirky witch with a dreamy personality. What a horrible end for such a glowing girl.

No one understood. They all knew she had tried to help Ron in his battle and that she was devastated from his passing. It seemed ironic that the disease she despised so much would also take her life. Still, no one knew of her pain. No one knew of her guilt.

No one knew of her love.

Ginny's head rested on Neville's shoulder. Her mother, four brothers, and now one of her best friends were gone. Why? Why?

As she cried beneath the willow where Ron also laid, Ginny recalled a song she had heard in that same spot a year ago. Though she was grief stricken she could not help but sing. Wherever Luna was Ginny knew she was healed. She sang Luna's song in remembrance and honor.

La, la la, la, la, la, la...

La, la la, la, la, la, la...

Fin.