Of the Weird, the Lovely, and Some Nargles

Dare You to Move

"Come on, Luna," Dean called as he passed, holding out his free hand; she took it and followed him back up the stairs. People passed them on their way, surprised to see them, but there was no time for friendly greetings and conversations. Turning a corner, Dean and Luna found themselves in an empty corridor.

"We have to go to where the towers are," Luna said hazily, as they searched for a shortcut to make it to other people quickly.

"I don't feel sure about this," Dean said, letting go of her hand. "I still don't have a wand."

"You'll find one sooner or later." There was something wrong with her, Dean noticed. She didn't seem to be scared in the slightest, merely flinching at the deafening explosions carrying through the air, but her voice was losing the smoothness to it, quivering.

Able to hear voices coming nearer and nearer as they walked, Luna stopped in her steps, Dean following suit, sending her a questioning look.

"Can I kiss you?" Luna asked unabashedly, staring up at Dean, the look in her face soft and flustered at the same time. Her eyes were wider than usual, perhaps with the shock of what she had just said.

Daring to move closer, despite his sudden desire to run away, Dean's feelings of wonder and embarrassment clashed. "Why?" he asked in confusion, but his hands betrayed him as he slipped them into her hair, slightly cupping her face.

Smiling nervously, Luna averted her gaze for a fraction of a second and then looked back at him. "I've never been kissed before," she said with a shaky chuckle. "I don't want to die without knowing what it's like. But I will understand if you refuse to," she added merrily, making Dean wonder where did all the boldness and honesty come from.

By normal circumstances he would stagger away, frightened, but it might've been due to standing at the brink of a battle that he found it completely understandable. His eyes traveled to her lips and with love of a friend and tenderness of a lover he bent down and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Hardly responding, feeling so numb, Luna kissed him back only slightly, but her touch, so intimately shy, made Dean's head spin.

Parting and taking in a trembling breath, they eyed each other for a moment, the world becoming sharp at the edges once more. Luna smiled again, only for him. "Thank you," she said, sounding as though what happened was as simple as a conversation on how to water plants.

"You're welcome."

A scream pierced the night, and all hell went loose.

Grasping her hand, Dean led her toward the raging battle, feeling peculiarly calm at heart and ready for anything.

It felt strange to feel so lonely and isolated in a place so crowded, Dean thought. Old friends were coming up to him, greeting him, but none of them went out to see him specifically, just as he hadn't felt any special need to linger between them. He felt warmer upon seeing them again, but everyone was looking for someone – a friend or a missing member of a family – just as he did.

People were celebrating, grieving their losses and gingerly enjoying their first moment of a true freedom, free of Voldemort's reign. He was happy, too, immensely, but for the time being his happiness was secluded away, not quite reaching the tips of his fingers. Someone was missing.

It seemed years ago since he had held her hand and her gaze in that deserted corridor. The battle had sent them both in different directions, fighting their way through perils of their own. And he didn't know what happened of her.

Sure enough, he could see her jumping her way through the crowd instead of walking, singing cheerily, of course, and her waist-long blond hair hopping at her back.

"Luna!" He grabbed her by the shoulder, for she didn't notice him at first, grinning ear to ear. Her face was dirty with soot and there was a deep gash over her cheek.

"Dean, how nice to see you."

"We've made it," Dean said quietly and both of them looked away sadly for a moment, remembering everything that had to be sacrificed.

Smiling back up at him, Luna took his hand and led him out of the Hall, into the sunrise.

She inhaled the fresh morning air. "Can you feel it?" she asked, her voice no longer calm but vibrant with unmasked exuberance and energy. Her eyes sparkled in a tantalizing fashion. Dean didn't choose to look away.

"Feel what?"

"The beginning," she replied simply, staring hungrily at every portion of the crumbled world around her. There was longing in that look – to live and to love and to not waste another minute ever again. Winding an arm around her shoulders, Dean smiled and let the freshness of the moment engulf him.

"Yeah, I feel it."

After that little moment, Dean hardly saw Luna. There was a Wizarding World to rebuild, a family to attend to and things needing taking care of. Both of them seemed to play different parts in this, distant roles, hardly being able to say a proper goodbye.

Even though they have become regular correspondents, and Luna's letters were unlike any others he had ever received, still it wasn't like the real thing – real interesting conversation with the real unique Luna. Dean found himself missing her.

It took another few months until they would meet again. The Wizarding World in shambles, what with the fallen and corrupted Ministry, halfway destroyed Hogwarts and families and lives torn apart, everyone was too busy with helping others and finally even themselves. Some moved on quite easily, concentrating all their attention on aiding those others in need and dedicating themselves to the inner and outer reconstruction. Dean was one of these people. He hadn't lost anything too dear to him through the war, perhaps only his last year at Hogwarts and a piece of childhood he could still enjoy for a little longer, had it not been for his year spent in rough conditions of hiding.

With Kingsley as the new Minister and Minerva McGonagall reinstated as the new Headmistress at Hogwarts, slowly but surely things were blooming back into shape, yet with a new and unexplored defiance, clearly stating past was over, and there was only looking forward. It would be another few years before the Ministry was completely de-corrupted and rid of all the Umbridges and Thicknesses, but first results of hard work and true dedication could already be seen. Death Eaters were being rounded up, at least most of them, justly punished for their crimes, and all those that have suffered losses or degradation to the dignity found it easy to cope with, what with the re-established and improved wizard cooperation.

Months swished by fast and an entire year elapsed between the Final Battle and the wonderful summer day Dean chose to visit Diagon Alley to take care of some affairs. He hadn't returned to Hogwarts and substituted his final year of education by needed courses offered by the Ministry.

Dean walked on briskly, greeting a few friends he could see over the crowds of people, his sketchbook set firmly under his arm. Planning to take care of Gringotts business at first, Dean marveled at the thought of sitting down at Fortescue's, ordering a creamy sundae, drawing away the wonderful, flamboyant scenes all spread before his eyes.

The Dark Arts shops in Diagon Alley were now nonexistent, but there was still an air of darkness over the sinister Knockturn Alley. Turning his head away, Dean passed the shops one by one, some of them changed unrecognizably, yet still evoking the same warm memories.

After a few insignificant hours his eyes widened a bit as he spotted something very familiar in the crowd.

The radishes got him at first glance. Almost bursting out with genuine and hearty laughter at the sight of her, Dean's heart gave a jolt when he saw her, making her way through the crowd. Immense relief spread over him to see she hasn't changed at all. She was alone, but smiled at passing people and observed her surroundings with an almost innocent, child-like curiosity. One would say she never encountered half the things she set eyes on.

Dean didn't call to her at first, but waited for her to notice him. Soon she did and her eyes widened with unmasked happiness and surprise. Spontaneously running to him and flinging her arms around his neck, Dean picked her off the ground and swirled around.

The greeting was warm and enlivening. Words could hardly express the mutual joy. At first they just stared at each other, smiling brightly, then uttered the names, and hellos, how are yous and so many other insignificant, usual phrases. It took them a while to calm down and let the conversation pick up a steady tune.

"How was your last year at Hogwarts then?" Dean inquired, offering Luna his arm. She took it gladly, hooking her arm with his as they walked.

"Very nice. It was much better than sixth year for sure. Graduating was sad, though. I didn't want to leave Hogwarts," she replied serenely, walking with a slight bounce to her step. "What's new with you?"

"I plan to find some work and get a flat since it's about time I leave my mother's house I guess. After a lot of searching, however, I still haven't found anything."

"Live with me!" she offered with a radiant smile, her eyes glowing with excitement as she stopped and turned to face him. "I will start working as a probationer at the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures over the summer, so with the help of my dad I got myself a nice little flat not far from here. It's better for you than renting and spending money on Leaky Cauldron's room."

Dean watched her closely, already knowing his answer. He just wanted to study the anticipation in her eyes for a little longer. She was obviously thrilled at the idea of being with a friend, that's how Luna was after all – always so open and welcoming to anyone. That was just another thing he liked about her, her honest lenience.

"I'd love that," he finally said, not sure whether he was so relieved and happy because of having found a place to stay or the fact that he would be with Luna again and maybe, just maybe, the old, tranquil yet still alive days of Shell Cottage would resurface.