I wrote this as part of my 1980s song prompts event on tumblr. Stereden prompted this, the song is 'Eye of the Tiger' by Survivor (1982). This is cross posted on ao3 and tumblr. I'm Dresupi everywhere.

Enjoy!

It was hours before Harry could return to Luna after the final battle.

Everyone was still in the Hogwarts dining hall. It was an eerie place. Of simultaneous celebration and tears. Of misery and jubilance.

And Harry for one, had definitely had enough of both for an entire lifetime.

He fell- more than sat - down beside her on a cot.

"Your father's been released from Azkaban?' he asked. It wasn't what he really wanted to say, but propriety insisted that he ask. And he was certain it was something that had plagued her for the weeks she'd been at Shell Cottage.

"He has. I'll be able to see him tomorrow," she answered. She was strewn across the conjured cot in such a way that Harry might have thought she was comfortable here. If not for where they were.

"You're not hurt?" Harry asked again. He'd asked multiple times.

"I'm a little scratched up, but I'm alive." She turned to face him. "Harry, are you hurt?"

Not physically, he wasn't. Save for a few scratches, more bruises than he could count. Physically he felt fine.

There was a gnawing pain deep inside that refused to stop. He'd call it his heart, but it wasn't that either. His heart was an organ. Once that pumped blood through his veins. It wasn't hurt. It wasn't even scarred.

The scar that mattered to everyone hadn't so much as twinged since Voldemort had drawn his last. It felt as empty as the rest of him.

It was something deeper than that. His very soul had been touched by evil and there wasn't an elixir or potion that could delve that deep and heal what ailed him.

He meant to shrug off her question. She had enough to deal with without having to take on his mess as well.

But all that came out was a choked sound. A whimper. The realization that he'd lost friends today. Friends who would all be alive if it weren't for him and his bloody scar. If it weren't for him and his bloody name.

And then he was falling again. Falling for the second time that day, and this time, instead of hitting the cold ground, he was enveloped by warmth.

By her fingers raking through his hair.

By his name on her lips. Repeated over and over. He opened his eyes to gaze up into her face and he muttered the only thing that made any sense. The only word that held any meaning for him.

"Luna…"

She shushed him, her fingers dragging tracks through his filthy hair and her words a cooling balm on the ache inside. He couldn't make out what they were, but the sound of her voice was all he needed.

"Luna, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for it all…"

Again she shushed him. "Now is not the time for this, Harry."

"Then when? When can I show you how sorry I am for dragging everyone into this? For Lupin and Tonks? For Fred? For…" He choked again. "For Dobby?" His breath came out in a shuddering gasp. "Lupin and Tonks… they have a baby, Luna."

"You don't owe anyone an apology, Harry. We all knew what we were getting into. My father included. Not a one of us were with you under duress. We all wanted to be here. There was nowhere else I would rather be on this day than where I was. Where I am." Her hand stilled in his hair and she ran her thumb over the scar on his forehead before smoothing his hair down to cover it. "I should hope you would trust me to never place myself in a location where I didn't want to be."

"I do. I trust you, Luna." The words carried far more weight than they appeared to. Even though there were still three more unspoken hanging in the air around their heads.

Harry imagined that they had long, fluttery wings that they used to float just above their heads. That if he looked up quickly enough, he could catch them. If not all, then just one. Just to see tangible proof of their existence.

But in every single instance that they'd been hovering just there, just out of reach, he hadn't wanted to tear his eyes away from the one they were intended for.

A bit of a vicious cycle, he supposed.

"Luna, I…" he trailed off before grabbing his courage by the throat as he often tended to do. "Luna, I love you."

She smiled, gazing off around the room. "I know you do, Harry."

"No… no…" he struggled to a seated position, his head swimming as he reached for her hands. "No, not like that. I love you. I always have done, I think. But I always sort of… put it off. It was never the time. There was never time to tell you. I…" he trailed off for a few seconds. "I don't care if this isn't the time, I'm making it the time."

Her eyes met his, her heat tilted as she ran her fingertips down the line of his jaw. "Harry. I know . You needn't have been so dramatic in telling me. I know. And I love you too."

"You...you do? You do. Well…" He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers and revelling in the feeling of a love actualized. A love reciprocated. Even if it was just for a few moments, he allowed himself the happiness that young love is due.

Luna sighed heavily and squeezed his hand. She leaned forward, her fingertips still grazing his skin as she pressed her lips to his. A short kiss. A brief peck of her lips on his. A simple gesture that held promise and potential. And everything but chaste feelings. "But, I'm afraid that no matter how much we try to make this the time? It isn't, Harry."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. The lump that contained all the pain and aches he'd been feeling. Swallowed it back down into the pit of his gut. "I know, Luna. I know."

"It will be. Soon. But it isn't now."

"I know."

If you liked it, please leave me something special in the comments? *hearts*