Summer Ghosts

Luna's crying when you get back, which surprises you more than anything so far, and you drop the clothes on the table and let her cling to you, sobbing into your shoulder like a child, all high-pitched wails and shallow choking breaths.

Eventually, when you feel her breathing start to slow, you lead her upstairs and into bed, even if it is a couple of hours early. She's still in her pyjamas, and you quickly throw yours on.

You don't remember when she stopped crying, but in the morning when you wake, she's sleeping peacefully beside you.

---

Three days later, there is still no sign of life. Errol comes home and promptly falls asleep. Luna is still spending her days in the study, although she seems to be running out of things to say - sometimes when you stick your head round the door she's simply chewing the end of her quill, frowning hard at the parchment. There is a small pile of parchment beside her - The Quibbler issues she's written so far, but she doesn't seem to have any intentions to do anything with them.

She hasn't mentioned the crying episode, so neither do you.

You've noticed, on your occasional trips back to the Burrow, that The Daily Prophet has stopped being delivered. You don't know if this is because it's been stopped by the Ministry - like The Quibbler - or whether your parents just cancelled the bill while everyone was away. You hate being reminded of your parents, because it reminds you that you're not supposed to be here, it's not them that's missing really, it's you. You haven't heard from them, still, or anybody else. Maybe owls have been stopped. But if they have, then Errol would have come home, wouldn't he?

These are the things that you think about when you wake up in the morning. You always wake a few minutes before Luna, and you don't like to get up alone. She sleeps curled up tightly, a thoughtful expression on her face that doesn't match her usual vague one. You see her stir before you hear the noise: a door opening, footsteps downstairs.

Her eyes open, panicked for a second, and then they settle on you - watching, waiting. So you get up, and think about pulling some trousers on, but decide that this t-shirt of Percy's will just have to be long enough because you don't have time. The footsteps are on the stairs already.

You step out onto the landing, and there, staring at you from the top of the stairs, is Percy. You stare back, putting two and two together and listening to the noises downstairs. He looks different. You can't put your finger on what it is, but he looks older somehow. Older than Charlie, who has a childish smile, or Bill, who's always been youthful looking. Percy looks stiff and uncomfortable in an expensive suit and you know he must be here on business.

Eventually, Percy clears his throat. "There's nobody up here," he calls, peering down over the banisters. "We might as well leave." His gaze returns to you, and you continue to meet it, wondering whether to look grateful or as though you couldn't care less.

He turns, then, away from you, and walks back down the stairs, without looking back.

Luna is sitting up in bed, waiting patiently for you, and once the voices have stopped and you hear the front door shut, you finally speak.

"We should go, Luna, they might come back."

She nods.

---

So now the Burrow is your home again, after five days at Luna's that feel like forever. Everything is clean and tidy and empty still, and you feel like a trespasser because you are not just here to visit now, you're here to sleep and eat and live.

In an awkward (for you, anyway) silence you suggest that the two of you play cards. You and Ron used to do this on endless summer evenings, and would always end up arguing. But you and Luna don't argue. You barely even talk, and you wonder what it'll take to get to know each other.

You decide to broach the subject over dinner (spaghetti, which Luna manages to eat as solemnly as she does anything else).

"Luna," you say, and decide to blurt it all out before you get silly, "Do you think we're good friends?"

Does she look surprised? More surprised than usual? It's hard to say.

"I've always thought we were."

"Oh, I do too," you tell her, hurriedly, "I just meant... well, we don't talk very much, do we?"

She looks at you for a moment, impossible to read. "What is there to say?"

"I don't know," you suddenly feel humble, "I just thought maybe we should talk more, that's all."

"If you like," she says, kindly.

---

So after dinner, the two of you sit in the big armchair by the fire and read together, old books that have been passed down to you. You read the first page aloud, and then she offers to read the second, which you enjoy more because she puts on different voices for different characters and you find yourself laughing at moments you never imagined as being funny before.

When it's time for bed, you lead the way up the stairs and then suddenly realise that you don't want to sleep in your room, not now. So you stop suddenly in the middle of the landing and open the twins' door instead, and usher Luna in. She doesn't question the fact that this clearly isn't your room, and for that, you are grateful. There are two beds in the twins' room, of course, but you only register that fact after the two of you have got into one of them together.