Chapter 2
When Harry stopped in front of Voldemort in the forest, the last thing he thought about was Luna's smile and a baby with black hair and silver eyes.
The next thing he realized was Voldemort’s fallen body and several people running to hug him, but he didn’t feel the need to celebrate; there were so many deaths around him.
The following weeks passed in a blur of sadness and pain. Harry went to so many funerals and saw so many tears of sorrow. He was at the Burrow and did everything he could to be left alone, he was so tired of everything and had so much guilt to carry. All he wanted was to lie in the hole that was consuming him alive. Everyone tried to pull him out of there, especially Ginny. She would come in and talk nonstop, and when she didn’t see any reaction, she would leave, slamming the door.
One afternoon, the door opened, and someone entered the room where he was lying. He was facing away from the door, so he prepared himself for Ginny’s speech; he knew she had good intentions and loved him, but he couldn’t hear any more.
But the speech never came. He felt the bed sink, and someone lay down behind him, as a small body wrapped its arms around his waist and held him tightly; he didn’t need to look to know who it was. Luna. She didn’t say anything, just lay there with him and held him. He felt a wave of emotion rush over him. All the years he had spent alone, sinking in pain, came to his mind, and all the losses he had faced in his short life fell upon him. That small body and those firm arms around him made him feel like a small, helpless child, finally being embraced and protected, something he had never been. Then he gave in and cried, without shame, his sobs telling the story of his years of pain and abandonment, sadness and anger, but they also seemed to bring relief to his weary body and heart, so he let himself be comforted by Luna and cried for what seemed like a lifetime.
When his crying finally stopped, they stayed silent as she ran her hand through his hair, then he fell asleep in her arms. When Harry woke up, he realized the room was darker, but Luna was still lying with him, stroking his hair. He had never felt so welcomed and protected, and she hadn’t said a single word. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so peacefully and woken up so relaxed. Since meeting Luna, she had this power over him, to calm him, to understand him, and to know him better than anyone, even Ron and Hermione. He felt immense gratitude for his friend.
Harry started to move, then lay down facing her. His smile was gentle, and he found those huge, kind eyes.
“Heey.” His voice was hoarse from lack of use.
“Hello.” Her voice had a bit of that dreamy tone she had lost. She adjusted her crooked glasses and pushed her hair out of her eyes.
“How long did I sleep?”
“I think about 3 hours.”
He took her hand and kissed the knot of her fingers.
“Thank you.”
He didn’t feel any shame in crying like a child in her arms. The two had overcome it; she had trusted him at his worst, and he had done the same with her.
“You’re my friend.” And with that statement, the two didn’t need to say anything more to justify it.
“I am.” He confirmed.
“Now, Harry, you’re going to get up, take a shower, and come downstairs with me for dinner.” Her voice held no command or imposition. She was making a simple statement.
“You’re saying I smell?” He tried to put on a shocked voice.
“I didn’t want to be rude, but…” she opened a mischievous smile.
The two burst into laughter. And it felt so good. He believed neither of them had done that in a long time.
She became more serious afterward. She took his hand and placed it over her belly, which still didn’t show any growth but felt firmer. And his heart skipped a beat.
“Later, we’ll find a way to get out of this darkness.”
“Together?” He asked as his thumb gently caressed her belly.
“Together.” He believed her.
After Luna’s visit, Harry gradually got up and began to leave his room, interact with the family, and think about what he would do with his life. Two months had passed since the war, and although it was still very recent, life had to go on. Even though sometimes the pain of the absence of those who had passed seemed to cut him in half.
Luna was still at Shell Cottage, having become friends with Fleur, who had grown attached to her and treated her almost like a daughter, despite the small age difference. Even so, Luna had sent a letter to Harry asking for help in rebuilding her house. The Weasleys had committed to this, and next week Luna would be able to return home. She would live alone since her father, lost in his grief, had left England behind, unable to cope with his daughter and the consequences of what had happened.
Harry tried to talk to Luna about this, but she completely closed herself off, and he knew he shouldn’t press her. Although she had evolved since leaving the mansion, Luna was still very quiet and withdrawn. They had talked about the baby and decided they would tell everyone after she was settled in her house.
Harry was not at all excited about when that moment would come. He had no regrets about his child or even about Luna. Everything he had done was to help her, and he would never take that back, but he knew it would catch everyone by surprise, and it wouldn’t be easy to explain, especially to Ginny.
Now that Harry was recovering, they started spending more time together at the Burrow. Ginny was beautiful, funny, and a force to be reckoned with, despite all the pain from the war, and that continued to attract him. They hadn’t talked about resuming their relationship, but Harry knew that was what Ginny wanted. She always found a way to touch him or show up wherever he was, and that never failed to stir up some emotions in him. But he needed to tell her about Luna first.
Even with the feelings she stirred in him, Harry sometimes felt confused about resuming the relationship.
How would she react to his child?
How would he raise it without being married to Luna?
He wanted to be present in his child’s life, without a doubt, but he knew that a marriage couldn’t happen just because of the pregnancy. There was also the factor that he didn’t know if Luna wanted something more than friendship (not that Harry was considering that). Even though most days he would wake up sweaty and with an erection after dreaming of Luna naked, sitting on his lap moaning.
He was a 17-year-old teenager; his hormones sometimes took over. That’s what he told himself.
This made him remember that he was just a teenager, and he was about to be a father, and he knew nothing about it, so he spiraled into a panic of fear and guilt.