Forever

Forever

Harry Potter was in love.

He didn't know how he knew it, but he did. It was like he was floating in happiness, being smothered in joy, and being torn in half at the same time. He felt his heart fly every time he saw... her. She filled both his dreams and his waken thoughts. Her voice ran through his head, her smile haunted him. Her words controlled his life. It was like she held his heart in her hand - she could either crush it or embrace it, and Harry could do absolutely nothing about it.

Luna Lovegood was the source of his lovesickness. She was an unlikely person... the outcast of the school. But he loved her. He couldn't help it.

Harry was in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Luna was in her sixth. He had been in love with her since the end of his fifth year.

And he still hadn't done anything about it.

"Down in the dumps, Harry?"

Harry looked up. He was in the Gryffindor common room, and Nearly Headless Nick was floating next to him.

"No, Nick," Harry said, smiling slightly. He and the ghost had always been on friendly terms. "No, just a little... out of it."

"Lovesick is the word," Nick said, grinning. "Or you look it anyway."

"Well... perhaps I am." Harry smiled wider, thinking of Luna and her eyes and her hair and her lips and how much he'd love to kiss them...

"Well if this doesn't remind me of another infatuated young Potter I once knew," Nick said, his grin growing ever wider. "Young James Potter had an obsession once too, you know."

Harry sat up straight. "My - my dad? You knew my dad?"

"Your father?" Nick chuckled. "Of course I knew your father. He was a worse prankster than Fred or George Weasley, he and his friends. Always getting into trouble, they were! James Potter and Sirius Black, not to mention Remus Lupin and that little Peter Pettigrew!"

Harry felt his throat close up. Sirius's death still made him choke up.

"But anyway, I remember one night I was going around, going on my normal midnight stroll when I came upon the young soul. Looking quite like you are right now, actually. He was dreaming about a young miss named Lily Evans - your mother, Harry."

Harry blinked. "Wha - what?"

"Quite nervous he was, too!" Nick went on. "The Yule Ball was approaching fast - alas, it is now also, is it not? And he was under quite some stress as to whether or not to ask her to the ball.

"Then I came along and we started to talk. We talked for quite a long time, we did... but, anyhow, who's the lucky girl?"

Harry felt himself pulled back to reality. What could it hurt to tell Nick? "Luna Lovegood," he muttered, curling up into a ball and watching the fire.

"Loony Lovegood?"

"Don't call her that!" Harry snapped. "She's a good person!"

"Whoa, cool it, Potter," Nick laughed. "I just say what I hear. So you like Lovegood?"

"Hmmmmmmm."

"And does she know?"

"Err... no." Harry felt himself go red.

Nick smiled understandingly. "Well, I'll just tell you what I told your father... if you don't tell her, she'll never know." Nick winked and floated away, leaving Harry staring into the fire, contemplating his miserable love life.

Later that night, Nick sat in the room that Dumbledore had arranged for his use. He thought of the conversation he had had with young Harry Potter, and remembered...

James Potter was sitting on the edge of the sofa in the common room, rocking back and forth slightly, his head resting on his knees. Nick watched him from the corner of the room.

"Bee in your bonnet, Potter?"

James looked up in alarm, but seeing it was only Nick, settled down again. "Only the most beautiful bee in the world," he muttered. "A bee with dark red hair and beautiful green eyes and - "

"Hold your breath for a minute, James," Nick laughed. "You wouldn't be talking about young Miss Lily, would you?"

"No! I mean, maybe... yes. Yes, I am."

"Have you talked to her?"

"Well, yes. But - not quite civilly."

"Well, why not?"

"Because we're sworn enemies and if I tell her she'll go ballistic because she hates me and my life will be ruined and - "

"Have you ever stopped to wonder if she's thinking exactly the same thing?"

James paused. "What? No. That's crazy. She can't be."

"Well, if you don't tell her, you'll never know, will you?"

James blinked. "You're right, of course." There was a moment of silence. "Thanks, Nick."

"Any time, Potter, any time."

Harry kept his head down as he walked briskly down the hallway. She was passing by.

She, of course, was Luna Lovegood.

Harry ran through the events of the previous night through his mind. Nick was right. If he never told her, she would never know.

When he was sure Luna was out of sight, Harry leaned against the wall of the corridor and sighed. The semi-annual Yule Ball was tomorrow. Harry knew that this was his last chance. If he didn't ask Luna to this ball, it would be the end. He would never get another opportunity.

Luna was the most beautiful girl in the world. No matter what people said. Although people made fun of her, they didn't see her real beauty. Her beauty showed itself in strange ways. Like the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, or the way she frowned down at a difficult Arithmancy problem, or the way she smiled...

So why was she the butt of everyone's jokes?

Luna wasn't stupid. She was a Ravenclaw, after all. She merely believed in assorted creatures with names Harry couldn't pronounce or remember. But it was her beliefs that stood between her and a normal life.

Tonight. Tonight he would ask her. And if she said no, well... he would find some way to deal with it, right?

Of course not, Harry thought grimly. I'll just have to suffer.

That night at dinner, Harry watched Luna carefully. Hermione and Ron looked at him oddly, but did not say anything. Harry didn't care. He didn't eat a thing. When Luna rose from her seat, Harry did too.

"Not hungry," he muttered, his eyes following Luna as she moved across the hall. "Catch you later." And so he left, leaving Hermione and Ron staring skeptically after him.

Harry followed Luna quietly. As she entered the library, Harry took a deep breath.

This was it.

He followed her into a deserted section when he stepped out of the shadows.

"Luna," he said softly. The name echoed in their small section. The name rolled off his tongue lightly - the name he loved, the name he thought about all day, the name he dreamed about every night...

Luna turned around sharply and stared at him. "Harry?" she said quietly, cocking her head slightly to the side. "What are you doing here?"

"Luna..." Harry took a deep breath. "Dyawannagotoballwimme?"

Luna opened her mouth, her eyes puzzled. "What did you say?"

"I said..." Harry took a sharp intake of breath. "Do you - do you want to go to the ball with me?"

Luna looked bewildered. She quickly looked down to the floor and pulled her hair behind her ear. She bit her lip and thought for a minute.

"If... if that's what you want, Harry."

Harry felt his heart leap. "Then... then I'll meet you in the entrance hall. At eight. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she said softly. Harry gulped and turned around. Once in the hallway, he resisted the urge to jump in the air and whoop. He was going to the ball with Luna!

James ran down the hall. "Evans!" he cried out. Lily paused and turned.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"Will you go out with me, Evans?"

"We've been through this, Potter..." She turned to leave. James caught her sleeve and pulled her close to him, so that their noses were practically touching. James caught his breath as those beautiful emerald eyes glared at him. She struggled, but he didn't let her go.

"I - I mean it, Evans," he said in a barely audible voice. "I mean it."

"No, Potter, you don't."

"Lily! Will you go to the ball with me?"

Lily stared at him. "I promise I won't make fun of you or tease you, and I won't call you names, I'll be completely serious, I won't try to corrupt you. We don't even have to go to the ball. We can just hang out in the common room, if that's what you want. Please, Lily." His voice was turning desperate now. "Please."

Lily stared at him for a long moment. "All right," she said gruffly, pushing him away. "I'll go with you. As long as you promise not to bother me. Common room, seven-thirty tomorrow. Don't be late, Potter."

As she walked haughtily away, James smiled widely.

"I won't!"

Harry straightened his robes once more and looked in the mirror. His reflection stared back at him.

"You look exactly the same as you did three seconds ago," the mirror said irritably. "Get a life, boy."

Harry groaned and fell back onto his bed.

"Don't see what all the fuss is about," Ron said. His tie was hanging out and his robes were askew. "Whom are you going with, anyway?"

"You'll see," Harry muttered. "But I want to look nice. Unlike a certain someone who, on the other hand, is looking like he's coming back from a party thrown at a garbage dump."

Seamus snickered. "I wonder who that could be?"

"Who do you think, Ron?" Dean was smirking.

"Hey," Ron said defensively. "Hermione would love me if I went naked."

The other boys in the room glanced at each other and started cracking up. Even Neville smiled.

"Maybe you should have worded that differently, Ron," he said. He was going with Ginny, and Ron was happy that at least his sister was going with a half-decent guy.

Harry, remembering his own date, groaned again and stuck his head under his pillow. It was six o'clock, according to the grandfather clock in the corner, but the boys had all assembled early as the girls were all getting ready anyway, and they decided to spend one last night anticipating a ball together.

Suddenly a silvery figure came through the wall. Everyone jumped. Harry sat up straight.

"Hello, Nick," Harry said, running his fingers through his hair nervously. "What're you doing here?"

"Just checking on the old boys," Nick said with a wink. "Ready for a last ball, boys?"

This statement saddened most of the boys. Harry just shook his head and moaned into his hands.

"I shouldn't have asked her, I shouldn't have asked her..."

"Asked who?" Nick asked, squinting at Harry. Harry looked up at him and smiled slightly. "You mean Lo - "

"SHHH!" Harry said. Nick smiled.

"Good job, Harry," he muttered, floating out of the opposite wall.

"Good job? Huh?" Neville looked confused.

"You told Nick, but you didn't tell me?" Ron said, glaring slightly.

Harry just sighed. "Trust me, you'll know. You will."

And he stuck his head under his pillow again.

"Oh, JAMSIE!"

"Sirius, shut up! I'm not in the mood!" James groaned and banged his head against the wall. "Oh, she's going to think I'm such an idiot..."

"I wish you would tell us who you're going with," Peter said good-naturedly. "It's not like you're going with Michelle Atelier."

"Who says I'm not?"

"Snape is."

"Oh. How desperate of him." James groaned again and banged his head against the wall over and over again.

"You're losing brain cells, you know," Sirius said, watching his head swing back and forth. "And it's not like you have that many to begin with."

"Shut up, Padfoot."

"All right, who is it?" Sirius asked, throwing up his hands. "Molly Riverton? Or Kathleen Richards? Or is it that Figg girl?"

"No..." James groaned. "No, it's not any of them..."

"Well, if you ask me," Remus said, raising an eyebrow, "it's rather obvious."

"It is?" James asked, whirling around and staring at his friend.

"Duh," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "It's - "

"SHHH!!!" James said, clapping his hand over Remus's mouth. "How did you find out?"

"Heard you talking to Nick last night."

"You told Nick?" Sirius asked.

"You told Nick but not us?" Peter squeaked, glaring.

"Well..."

"I don't believe you, James Potter!" Sirius said. "And I thought I knew you!"

"Who is it, Moony?" Peter asked. "Whom is he going with?"

"No," Remus said, shaking his head. "No, you'll find out soon enough."

Harry's eyes scanned the Great Hall nervously. Where was she? It was seven fifty-eight. She should be here by now. He sighed and turned.

That was when he saw her.

Her hair was pulled back into an elegant braid. Her dress was a pale blue and swayed around her as she walked. The dress had short sleeves, but she carried a shawl that was a shade paler than the dress. It was draped around her neck. Her hands were covered with gloves of a shimmering white color that came halfway to her elbow. Around her neck she wore a delicate pearl necklace that matched her dangling earrings. Everyone's eyes were on her as she walked toward Harry. Oh, how she had changed from the gangly fourteen-year old Harry had once known!

She laced her arm around Harry's and stared at him for a moment. "Let's go," she said, giving him a slight smile. Harry, drawing a breath, nodded. The doors, now open, showed them to a hall glittering with icicles and fairy lights and Christmas trees of all sorts. Small tables dotted the hall. He and Luna sat down, staring at each other for a long moment. They did not notice the many eyes on them. They just stared at each other.

The music began. Harry found he knew the song. It was a Muggle song that he occasionally heard playing on the radio back at the Dursley's. As it began to play, he held out his hand to Luna.

"Do you - want to dance?"

Luna took his hand and they walked onto the dance floor. The boys in Harry's dormitory and the girls in Luna's dormitory, as well as Hermione and Ginny, were gaping at them. They were oblivious to this and everything in the world but each other.

Harry pulled Luna close to him and remembered painfully quickly that he couldn't dance for beans. But none of that mattered as the song played, because Luna moved with him like water. Harry found her arms around his neck and his hands on her hips as if it were natural. As the song played on, Luna's head found it's way to his shoulder. They swayed back and forth in perfect rhythm until the song ended, and then looked at each other. Because neither showed any signs of wanting to leave, they stayed on the floor for the next song.

And the next.

And the one after that.

In the corner of the room, Nearly Headless Nick smiled.

At seven-thirty sharp, James stepped into the common room. He scanned it quickly. He found his flower sitting by the fire, staring into it.

"Didn't think you'd show, Potter," she said gruffly.

"Well, I did," James said defensively. "I told you I would. You look... nice."

That was an understatement.

She was wearing a pale green gown with tiny delicate flowers embroidered into it. Her three-quarter sleeves fell upon her arms delicately, and in her hair she wore a silver tiara, delicately spun so that it looked like it was meant to be on her head. She wore a diamond necklace and matching earrings that sparkled in the light of the fire. James's mouth almost dropped open.

She was beautiful.

"You're not half bad yourself, Potter."

James sincerely doubted this was true. He was nothing - nothing - compared to her. She was absolutely gorgeous.

"Well, let's go, then," she said. "Or we'll be late."

"So I take it we're going?"

"I told you we were."

"I wasn't sure."

Lily rolled her eyes and stalked out of the common room. James rushed up to her. She stopped and stared at him. He held out his hand for her, willing her to take it.

She did.

James felt the warmth of her fingers slide between his own. He shivered. How could something so warm make him feel so cold?

So they entered the Great Hall hand in hand. They ignored stares from stunned Gryffindors and jealous females. They sat down at a small table and stared at each other. James could not read the expression on Lily's face.

"Want to dance?" she asked quietly. Apparently she was satisfied that James wasn't about to dump her. James smiled.

"Sure."

They walked onto the dance floor and stopped. James stared at Lily for a moment before putting two shaking hands around her waist. Lily responded by putting her hands on his shoulders. Her face was still expressionless. James inhaled sharply as the song played its way through. About halfway through, he pulled Lily closer to him. She didn't seem to mind. Actually, to James's pleasure and relief, she seemed to be enjoying herself. As they twirled along on the dance floor, a certain ghost watched them as he himself danced with the Gray Lady.

"Told you, Potter," he muttered under his breath before losing himself in the rhythm.

After what seemed like a million years, but was at the very most twenty minutes, Harry looked down at Luna.

"It's getting awfully stuffy in here," he said softly. "Do you want to - go for a walk?"

Luna smiled. "Okay." They left the hall to many a second glance.

Harry and Luna walked amongst the rose bushes silently for a moment before finally situating themselves on a bench by a patch of white lilies. Luna cautiously rested her head on Harry's shoulder. Harry shuddered with happiness. Luna's skin felt like silk. Or maybe that was the gloves. But Harry had the strangest feeling it wasn't.

Luna stared out into the dark night sky. Harry held her hand and stroked it lightly.

"Did you know that I've always thought you were beautiful?"

Now where had that come from? He hadn't meant to say that at all. But he suddenly found himself rambling.

"I mean... ever since the end of my fifth year. When I saw you looking for your stuff. People would always take it from you. I felt sorry for you then. That was when I started to realize how beautiful you could be. And then last year I... I became obsessed with you. You were my everything. Everything had meaning because of you. I..."

Harry lost his voice. He couldn't the words to say anymore. Luna looked up at him.

"What are you trying to say, Harry?"

"What... what I'm trying to say is... is that I'm in love with you, Luna."

Harry looked down at his knees and waited for Luna to say something. All he felt was her arms sliding around him. He looked at her, gulping. Luna's eyes glittered in the moonlight.

She kissed him.

Harry knew at that moment that he was going to spend the rest of his life with this girl. He wanted to grow old with Luna, to have children with her, and possibly to die with her. He never wanted this moment to end.

"Lily?"

"James?"

James blinked. She had just called him by his first name. No time to ponder what that meant. "You're getting tired, aren't you?"

"Oh, James, I don't want to make you go back so early - "

"No, that's okay." James swallowed. "Do you want to go back to the tower? I'll stay with you."

"You don't have to do that..."

"But... I want to."

James pulled Lily off the dance floor. Sirius, Remus, and Peter were watching them go out of the hall, frowning with confusion.

What was going on?

Lily and James made their way up to Gryffindor Tower slowly. When they finally reached the common room, it was eleven o'clock.

"James..." Lily sighed. "I - I had fun tonight. I didn't think I would. Thanks."

James looked down at her. Her red hair was slightly messier than it had been three hours ago, and her emerald green eyes gleamed with happiness as she smiled at him. James sighed and brought her close to him in an embrace.

"Lily Evans... I love you," he whispered in her ear. "I always have, since I very first laid eyes on you... and I always will. I'll always be here for you."

"Oh, James," Lily said in a painful laugh. "Why didn't you tell me before? I would have listened. I - I love you too."

Their lips touched. James felt as though he was going to be smothered in her love right then and there. Lily loved him. She loved him like he loved her. And they were going to be together.

"Don't leave me, Lily," he whispered. "Stay with me forever."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington has been at Hogwarts for over five hundred years. Over that time, he has seen countless lovers, countless young people infatuated by that disease of the heart some call love. But never in all his years has he forgotten Lily Evans and James Potter, or Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood. He never forgot the good he did, and he never forgot that if it hadn't been for him and that nightly talk with James Potter, Voldemort might never have been defeated. He never forgot that without him, little Harry Potter might never have been born. Once in a while, not very often, but frequently enough to remember, he would find another young Potter in the Gryffindor common room late at night, and he will point him in the right direction. The Potters might have died out a long while ago, had it not been for him. But thanks to Sir Nicholas, the Potter legend will always live on.

Forever.