Saying Goodbye to the Thestrals

There is a spell to untie knots in one of Hermione's textbooks. An old, old textbook, but only in the way one feels that this year has gone on forever. Harry can't imagine how it feels anymore, to be a second year or a first year, back when he was young and alive and breathless. He supposes Hermione feels the same way, because she gives him an odd glance when he asks for her textbook from first year charms and Ron is utterly perplexed.

"What'd you want that for, Harry? It's not like we need it anymore."

"He probably does need it," Hermione says, and waves him off to the "second trunk on the left--and don't worry, Harry, it's still in the common room. I haven't completely packed everything yet."

"Thanks," Harry says, breathless, and whips off back to Gryffindor Tower.

-

Several people are still packing their shoes and things, old dress robes and tied up socks, so no one is alarmed when Harry goes straight for Hermione's trunk and starts digging. Then carefully (oh so carefully because Hermione would kill him if he messed up all her things), Harry restores everything to somewhat of a natural order, books piled up neatly in stacks of three or five, and flicks through the pages of the book he wanted to read.

Seamus and Dean, who have forgiven him probably for being the boy who lived, wave to him goodbye and he nods and waves distractedly.

"...Aha!"

The charm for untying knots is on the second to last page of the second to last chapter, in "Common Household Helpers", right between the one that rolls your socks for you and straightens your robes. But Harry skips all that, mutters the charm under his breath just to make sure, and does a quick wave of the wand (a straight flick, not a flourish, as if you were untying a knot), then puts the book back and slams the lid down.

Breathless, breathless--Harry can't figure out why he can't breathe.

-

Down the grey stone steps, following the simple "Lost" posters to where he last saw Luna Lovegood, and underneath the archway with her shoes. Harry hopes this doesn't hurt. "Onteaghan!"

And down the shoes come, in their red and green radish-speckled glory, just like Christmas.

"I hope you weren't planning on keeping those." He turns around guiltily, the immaculate soles digging into the insides of his elbows. (She hasn't worn them since the year began, Harry reasons, still taking quick breaths. So why would they be dirty?) "Unless, of course, you happen to have awfully small feet for a boy."

He holds them out apologetically. "No, um--I was just... getting them for you." A pause, and then Luna's serene smile grows a little brighter. The sort of bright that attracts moths in the night.

"Oh, well, that was awfully nice of you then."

"Right."

The shoes change hands. Luna is still in full uniform, black-clad from top to toe. She looks down at herself quietly, then looks back up with a serene smile and shrug. "I suppose I'll have to change on the train."