Beyond Fear

Over the next few days, they settled into a routine: torturous baths, breakfast, research for the "television project," lunch, Luna's consultation with the mental curator, schedule studies, dinner, and lying under the stars. On that day, however, things would have to change.

They were sitting together on the couch in the middle of the afternoon, Luna's feet resting on Harry's lap as he absentmindedly stroked them while reading a transfiguration book. A familiar owl landed on the windowsill. When Harry saw the Weasley's owl, he already knew it would be from Ginny. Every day for the past week, she had been asking when they could meet, and Harry had run out of excuses, except for the fact that he didn’t want to leave Luna alone. But he was sure Ginny wouldn’t like that, especially since he had blocked all her attempts to come to Luna’s house.

Harry stood up and took the letter from the owl. As he had predicted, it was from Ginny. He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation.

“You should go see her,” Luna’s voice came from the couch.

He looked at her, surprised. “How do you know it’s Ginny?”

“She’s been sending letters every day for a week, and every day you look somewhat exasperated when you read them,” Luna replied, her ability to state the truth without a filter shining through once again.

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” he admitted, as lying to Luna was never an option.

Luna seemed to ponder for a moment.

“You can go see her after dinner. You can leave me watching the stars while you’re there,” she suggested gently. But the first thing Harry thought was that he also wanted to see the stars with her. He took a deep breath, thinking it was a good plan, even though he still felt a sense of discomfort about it.
He stared at Luna for a moment, as if searching for something in her eyes. “Alright. I’ll send her a letter. Thank you.”

Luna’s heart tightened, but she smiled despite it and returned to her book.

That night, after dinner, Harry prepared a basket with some fruit, water, and an extra blanket.

“Harry, we’ve never needed that,” Luna argued.

“But you’ll be alone and might need it.” He shrank the basket and held it in his hands. Each day she seemed a little heavier, and her belly had grown more, but Harry still thought she was light and held her as if she were precious. And she was.

When he set her down on the quilt, he stood looking at her with concern. “You’ll send me a Patronus if you need anything, won’t you?” It was the tenth time he had asked.

“Yes, I will,” she said, hoping she wouldn’t need to. Despite the sadness that crept in when she thought of him with Ginny, she wanted him to be happy. She didn’t want him to feel trapped with her.

He stayed there for a few more minutes, just looking at her, then Disapparated.

Luna lay down, looked at the stars, and wished her heart could be free of this pain. She stroked her belly and, gazing at the stars, asked her mother to help her. Sometimes, she just felt lost.

Harry arrived at the Burrow and found them still at the dinner table. He accepted dessert, even though he wasn’t hungry, and chatted a bit with Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley asked about Luna and promised to send them some food.

Ginny decided to take him to the bench in the garden, where they could be alone. Being outdoors reminded him of Luna, and he wondered if she was okay.

"Two weeks until Hogwarts," Ginny said, leaning into Harry as he put his arm around her. "You still have time to change your mind," she said, her voice hopeful.

"Ginny… you know that’s not going to happen," he replied, not wanting to have that conversation again.

"I don’t see why you think you’re the only one who can take care of her," she said, sounding petulant.

"Who else would take care of her, Ginny?" Harry asked seriously. "Her father? Oh, I forgot, he abandoned her!"

She seemed a bit more uncertain. "I don’t know, there’s always a way. It doesn’t always have to be you saving the day," she insisted.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply. "Ginny, I’m the father, and it’s my duty to take care of them, even if they’re still in her belly."

"This situation is so hard, Harry. She’s pregnant with your child, and now you’re living with her. You barely come to see me, and you won’t even go back to school with me. Put yourself in my shoes," her voice was sad this time, and Harry felt terrible.

The whole situation was uncomfortable and painful for both of them. He felt that holding on to this was bringing more sadness than joy. He looked at Ginny and realized that the passion he had once felt for her no longer existed. And maybe, just maybe, that passion had been the only thing that ever existed between them.

"Gin, have you ever thought," he paused, searching for the words, "have you ever thought that all this pain between us might be showing us that we’re holding on to a relationship that’s bringing more pain than joy?" He took a deep breath. "Maybe we’d be better off keeping things just friendly?"

Her posture immediately changed. She tensed and stared at Harry with hard eyes.

"No, I don’t think so!" Her voice was serious. "I waited for you for a year—actually, I’ve waited for you all these years. Now you owe me the relationship you promised."

Her words hit Harry like a bullet. Did he owe her that? Had he promised her anything?

Harry was so shocked by her statement that he didn’t know what to say. So he gave in, wrapping his arms more tightly around her. "I’m sorry, Ginny. You’re right." The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I’ll try harder to visit you more often."

He would have to suppress his discomfort and come to see his girlfriend more frequently. She wasn’t to blame for everything that had happened and deserved to be treated better. Harry imagined how he would feel if the situation were reversed and felt even worse for her.

Ginny kissed him passionately, and Harry returned the kiss, but he had the sense that none of this felt right, that a relationship shouldn’t be like this. But what did he know about relationships?

He tried, in vain, to push away this feeling the whole time he was there. But even when Ginny kept kissing him fervently—which lasted all night since they barely had much to talk about—the feeling didn’t leave.

That night, Ginny seemed willing to do much more than just kiss, so it fell to Harry to stop her since they were in the middle of the garden and could be seen by her family. An embarrassment he didn’t want to endure. This situation left him with the impression that Ginny was still in her teenage years, while he had matured so much. He tried to justify it by thinking it was because she was a year younger, but he remembered that Luna was also younger, yet she had always been very mature, even when they were still at Hogwarts. She had always had wisdom beyond her years.

After two hours there, Harry decided it was too much time to leave Luna alone.

Despite Ginny’s protests, he said goodbye to everyone and felt relieved as he passed through the protective wards and Disapparated back home.

Harry Apparated a short distance from Luna so as not to startle her and walked toward her.

Even without moving to see who it was, she said, "Hello, Harry Potter."

"Hello, Luna Lovegood. I thought you’d be lying down," he remarked as he approached.

She looked at him with a small smile and patted the blanket beside her for him to sit. "I've been having back pain. I don’t know if it’s from the pregnancy, which is likely, or from lying down or sitting for so long."

"Why didn’t you tell me before? I could’ve brought some cushions or applied a pain-relief ointment to your back," he said, concerned.

"What I really need is a massage." She was teasing him.

"I can try, but I’ll admit it’s likely to be terrible," he replied with a crooked smile.

"I'm joking, Harry," she said, returning her focus to the sky.

"I know, but I’m serious. When we get back, I can give it a shot."

They stayed seated there a while longer as Harry reflected on how the feeling of discomfort he’d carried throughout the evening had vanished.

He wondered what it would be like to have a lighthearted relationship—no guilt, no demands, no fights, no pain. He didn’t know any relationship like that. Even with Ron and Hermione, there had been moments of guilt, anger, and abandonment. With Sirius, there was the guilt he carried for losing him before truly knowing what it was like to have him. Maybe relationships were just like that, and he was longing for something that didn’t exist.

When Harry placed Luna in bed, he immediately asked where the ointment was, insisting he’d give her a massage. She tried to decline, but he insisted, saying that since she was doing all the work with the babies, it was the least he could do. She smiled at that and relented.

"Alright, but I’ll have to take off my dress, and I’m not wearing a bra, so you’ll need to grab one for me."

Harry didn’t even need to ask where it was. He walked to the drawer where he always got her underwear and grabbed a bra, one he thought wouldn’t do much to cover her breasts these days.

While he fetched the ointment from the bathroom, she took off the dress and put on the bra. Then she sat in the middle of the bed, and he sat behind her, as she couldn’t lie on her stomach; the massage would have to be done this way.

A few minutes later, they both realized Harry wasn’t so bad at it, especially when Luna let out a sigh of relief. She’d been feeling that pain for days but didn’t want to complain.

"How are the Weasleys?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"They’re fine. Mrs. Weasley said she’d send some food for you."

She smiled but didn’t have the courage to ask about Ginny, so she remained silent. It was strange that not long ago, they had been friends. Now everything had changed, and Luna knew she was to blame for it. She hadn’t thought of Ginny when she asked Harry to sleep with her, so she understood Ginny’s resentment.

In the early hours of the morning, when Luna was returning to bed after waking with a full bladder to use the bathroom, she heard a noise coming from the next room. She walked slowly to the door and saw Harry thrashing about and muttering words in distress. She knew the short distance between her room and Harry’s wouldn’t jeopardize her health, so she approached and turned on the bedside lamp.

"Harry, wake up! You’re having a nightmare." She held his shoulder. "Harry!" she kept calling. He stopped thrashing but continued speaking. She gently held his face. "Harry, wake up!"

He opened his eyes, startled, and then blinked.

"Luna?" His voice was hoarse.

"Yes, you were having a nightmare." Her hand was still on his face, and she brushed the hair from his forehead. Only then did he seem to realize what was happening.

"Why are you standing? Come, sit here." He moved his body aside and sat up in bed, making space for her to sit.

"I had gone to the bathroom and then heard you," she said simply.

He still seemed shaken from the nightmare, so she grabbed a glass of water from his bedside and handed it to him. He accepted it, still dazed.

"Sorry..." he began to say.

"There’s nothing to apologize for." Then she crawled onto the bed beside him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, confused.

"You said I also keep your nightmares away, so I’m staying here with you," she said matter-of-factly. Then she took the glass from his hand and lay down without turning off the light. "Come on, lie down for a bit."

He lay down next to her and felt himself relax in her presence. When he heard her breathing even out, he, too, was lulled into a dreamless sleep.