Chapter 54
After the conversation in the garden, a deep fear took hold of Luna—the unsettling feeling that she might be making a mistake by allowing him to get close again. The thought of suffering even more if he left this time was unbearable. Overcome by this fear, even after saying they could try to reconnect, Luna withdrew into herself, building barriers she barely knew how to take down.
Trying to understand her emotions, Luna began using the journal Harry had given her, writing down her thoughts and feelings. The more she wrote, the clearer things became in her mind. She recognized dysfunctional patterns she had been following and reflected on how those thoughts were preventing her from moving forward. Greta’s advice came back to her: “But sometimes, what we fear the most is also what we need to face the most. Maybe instead of protecting yourself from this care, you could allow it to happen—one day at a time.”
After much reflection, despite her fear, Luna decided she would take the risk—she would let things unfold between them while ensuring that she respected her own boundaries and desires along the way.
She began observing Harry, searching for reassurance in his actions that she could trust him again. She watched him with the babies and saw his dedication and affection. He was loving and careful in every little detail. It was beautiful to see.
One afternoon, after waking from a nap—after putting the babies down to sleep—Luna went downstairs to make tea for herself and Harry. The silence in the house led her to assume that the babies were still in their crib and that Harry was probably in the room with them.
As Luna was about to climb the stairs again, she noticed Harry lying on the couch. She approached, stopping at the entrance of the living room, holding the tea cup with both hands as if the warmth could ground her. Her eyes were fixed on the scene before her—Harry, lying on the couch, with the twins nestled against him. His chest rose and fell in a calm rhythm, one hand gently resting on Albus’s back while James curled up in his arm.
For a moment, Luna felt the air leave her lungs. That image—so simple—carried the weight of something she never knew she needed. Harry, so at ease, so involved with the babies, seemed completely different from the hesitant, doubtful man she had known in December.
She averted her gaze for a moment, tightening her fingers around the cup, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions she didn’t know how to handle.
Her chest tightened with a mix of tenderness and fear. She had known that Harry would be a constant presence, but what surprised her was how unquestionably present he was—body and soul. More attentive than she ever imagined he could be. More reliable than she had expected. But that was what scared her—the way he filled the empty spaces she had learned to accept as part of herself. The way he fit into this home. The way he seemed born to be Albus and James’s father. And the way his care and attention toward her made it feel like they were all meant to belong to each other. Her heart swelled in a way she had never felt before.
Her eyes returned to him. There was something about Harry’s face that made her swallow hard. Even in sleep, he carried a quiet kind of care. He had always been like that—thoughtful, even when he wasn’t sure what to do.
He’s so comfortable with them, she thought, watching the twins nestled against him as if they knew that was the safest place in the world. A pang of guilt hit her as she remembered the nights she doubted he could be that for them. And yet, at the same time, she felt something else—a nearly painful yearning to believe that this moment was real. That she could allow herself to trust. That she could allow herself to feel.
Luna leaned against the doorway, letting the tea cup rest against her chest. The tears came without warning, slipping silently down her face. It wasn’t sadness. It was something more complex, deeper. It was the weight of a longing she hadn’t even realized she had—to belong to something, to be part of something more than just herself.
I don’t know if I can do this, she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. I don’t know if I deserve this.
A sob rose in her throat, but she swallowed it down quickly, taking a deep breath. The babies stirred, and Harry mumbled something indistinct, pulling them closer.
Luna wiped her face, brushing away the tears. Suddenly, the moment felt too big, too heavy for her shoulders. But at the same time, she knew she couldn’t walk away. Not anymore.
With silent steps, she approached, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch. She carefully draped it over the three of them, making sure they were warm. Her hands hesitated for a moment as they reached Harry’s face, but finally, she touched him lightly.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
And then she stepped back—but not too far. Luna grabbed her painting supplies and settled into the nearby armchair, pulling her legs up and resting her sketchbook on her lap. She couldn’t stop looking at them. At Harry.
Her fingers moved as if they had a mind of their own, capturing this moment that deserved to be preserved. These were the three most important people in her life. Her heart, her love, all of it lived with them. She was theirs—irreversibly, unquestionably. And she wished, with all her heart, that they could be hers too.
And for the first time in a long while, she felt something light bloom in her chest. There was no hesitation in her soft smile. Luna let the moment settle in her heart and take root.
—---------------
It was late at night when Luna came downstairs. The twins were finally asleep, and the house was wrapped in a rare, precious silence. She started gathering the scattered toys from the floor, her movements almost automatic as her mind wandered.
Harry was sitting on the couch, a book in his hands. He watched her for a moment before getting up.
“Let me help,” he said, walking toward her.
“You don’t have to, I can do it,” Luna replied, but he was already picking up a stuffed bear from the floor.
“I know you can,” he said with a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean you have to do everything alone.”
Luna paused for a moment, his words resonating somewhere deep inside her. She watched him carefully fold a blanket and place it on the couch, and something inside her relaxed.
“I have something for you,” she said, surprising even herself, as she had intended to keep it to herself.
“For me?” He raised an eyebrow, surprised.
Luna walked over to her sketchbook in the corner of the room and cast a duplication spell on her drawing.
“Here.” She handed it to him, watching his face intently.
Harry was an open book—Luna saw his expression shift from curiosity to deep emotion. There was so much feeling in his eyes as he took in every detail of the drawing in complete silence.
When he finally looked up, his eyes were shining with tears. “This is incredible, Luna.” His voice was thick with emotion.
“It was even more incredible to witness,” she said, filled with the same emotion.
The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, the room filling with a palpable energy.
Then, a soft melody began to play from the old radio on the shelf. An old song, melancholic and full of memories.
Luna averted her eyes and fixed them on the device.
“This song… my mother used to hum it when I was little,” she said quietly.
Harry watched her, noticing how the melody seemed to soften her features, illuminating her in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. Without thinking too much, he placed the drawing on the couch and extended his hand.
“Would you like to dance?”
Luna looked at him, surprised, and almost refused. But something in his expression—the sincere, almost timid invitation—made her accept.
“Yes,” she said softly, taking his hand.
They started moving slowly, awkwardly, as if learning to dance for the first time. Harry placed a hesitant hand on her waist while Luna rested hers on his shoulder, their touch light and full of uncertainties. Their hands joined, seeming to fit perfectly.
“I’m not very good at this,” Harry admitted with a nervous smile.
“Neither am I,” Luna replied, but there was a glimmer in her eyes that he hadn’t seen in months.
As the song continued, they relaxed, their steps becoming more fluid. But what began as something shy turned into something more intimate. Harry kept his gaze on her, noticing the way her light strands of hair fell over her face, how her lips curved into an almost imperceptible smile.
“Luna…” Harry started, his voice hesitant, as if each word was a battle.
She lifted her eyes to him, waiting, the softness in her gaze offering space for him to continue.
“I…” He looked away, the internal struggle clearly reflected on his face. After a moment, he found her eyes again. “I never really knew who I was beyond the Boy Who Lived. For a long time, I thought my only purpose was to carry the weight of responsibilities, to protect everyone. And because of that, I believed that love was something that couldn’t exist for me. That it wasn’t something I deserved.”
Luna tilted her head slightly, that deep, attentive gaze piercing through his armor.
“And now?” she asked softly, her voice as delicate as a breeze.
Harry took a deep breath, as if the air in his lungs had been trapped for a long time. “Now… you and the babies have made me see something different. You showed me that maybe I’ve been wrong all this time. When I look at you, at the way you take care of everything, even when you’re tired, even when you think you’re not enough… I realize that maybe no one really knows how to love or be loved in the beginning. Maybe love is something we learn—something we build together.”
Luna’s eyes shone with an emotion she could barely contain. He was speaking with such disarming sincerity that it reached parts of her she had locked away for so long.
“Harry…” She started, but the words didn’t come immediately. She needed a moment to rearrange her thoughts. “I’ve always felt… different. As if the world around me was a place I never truly fit into. When I lost my mother, part of me believed that maybe it was my fault—that maybe I wasn’t enough to keep the people I love by my side. Since then, I convinced myself that love wasn’t something within my reach.”
He looked at her with a gentle intensity, his eyes capturing every word as if they were precious. “You are one of the most extraordinary people I have ever met. The way you love… it’s so pure, so unconditional. It’s not that you don’t deserve love. It’s that sometimes, the world isn’t good enough to understand the love you have to offer.”
A brief, emotion-filled laugh escaped her lips as tears threatened to fall. “And you, Harry Potter, think you don’t deserve love because you believe your worth is tied only to the responsibilities you carry. But what you don’t understand is that here, in this house, we don’t need heroes. We don’t need saviors. We just want you. Only you.”
He let a small, vulnerable smile form—a smile that carried years of internal struggle. “Then I already belong to you,” he whispered. His voice was low, but the truth behind his words was unmistakable.
For a moment, they remained silent, the music filling the space between them, their hearts beating in sync. Then Harry spoke again, his voice tinged with both hope and fear.
“I don’t know what the future holds, Luna. But I want to try. I want to be more than the responsibilities that have always defined me. I want to be someone who believes he deserves love. Someone who can love without fear. Just Harry. A Harry who is yours, if you’ll have me. And someone who can make you happy.”
Luna felt her heart race—a mix of fear and longing. “And I want to try to believe that I can lower my barriers, that I can trust. That I can let someone in, truly. Maybe I can learn to accept this. Accept you.”
He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. “Then maybe we can figure all this out together.”
“Together,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet promises.
And at that moment, as the two of them moved slowly to the sound of the music, it was as if a new chapter had begun. A chapter where fears and doubts still existed, but they were no longer so frightening when shared.