#harry/luna

[pookha]

A Promise Ring: Chapter 1

Luna has received job offer that will keep her at Hogwarts and wants Harry to stay there with her. She takes him to the Black Lake to talk. A pre-engagement happens? Harry wants to stay there with her and makes a surprising career decision.

I see I didn't post chapter 1. Here it is. Sorry they're out of order.

The moon hung silvery and huge in its fullness on the horizon. Luna squeezed Harry’s gloved hand as she dragged him after her.

“Where are we going again?” he asked, his breath puffing out in clouds as he spoke.

“Down near the lake,” she said mysteriously, her voice muffled by the Gryffindor scarf he’d given her when she told him that she’d misplaced her Ravenclaw scarf.

He let himself be led by her, trusting her knowledge of the castle grounds. He knew the inside of the castle better because of the Marauder’s Map; but, over her years here, she’d traversed more of the grounds on her rambles than even he had.

She pulled him down to the Black Lake and along its shore, then they slid into a narrow path between two large boulders.

“Here,” she said, indicating a small clearing a few metres down the path.

Harry spread out a blanket on the ground while Luna stripped off her gloves and rummaged in her pack. Harry remembered how Hermione had helped her with the Extension Charm, smiling as Luna finally got it right on the paper bag they'd been practicing with. They’d grown closer since they’d all come back for Eighth Year together. Luna seemed to have stepped into the spot that Ron had occupied, quite often being the deciding voice between Harry and Hermione. He missed Ron and Ginny. Ron had decided to help George with the shop and Ginny had turned pro. Harry sometimes wondered if he should have gone pro, too, but then he thought about Luna and what was happening wouldn’t have happened if he had.

He realized that he'd become lost in his thoughts for a moment and said, “Sorry?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Luna said as she pulled a folded up piece of fabric out of her pack. She handed it to Harry and pointed at a place where two small boulders made a gap. Harry snapped out the fabric which expanded to fill it like a windbreak. When he turned around, Luna had pulled a jar out from her pack and was digging a hole for it in the soft dirt near the lake’s edge. When she had put the opening of the jar flush with the ground, she conjured bluebell flames in it. It was another spell that she’d learnt from Hermione this year. Luna’s glowed more purplish than Hermione’s but they provided the same warmth and soft light.

She sighed and opened her jacket to let in the warmth from the jarred fire and sat down. Harry followed suit. After he’d sat down she leaned into his shoulder and took his hand. He squeezed gently three times fast, then two times slow. She smiled and squeezed back, two times slow and three times fast. They both laughed.

Harry held his free hand out to the flames and warmed them. Luna slid her pack closer and dug in it again.

“What’re you after?” Harry asked.

“Gifts for the merfolk,” she said.

He nodded. This was normal for when they came to the lake.

“What’ve you got this time?” he asked.

She pulled out an inflated bladder of some sort that made him think of a worn-out football, a forked stick of rowan, and a few sealed jars with dim witchlights in them.

“A dowsing rod?” Harry asked, picking up the rowan stick.

She nodded. “It’s specifically to find any warm springs.”

“Is this just a ball full of air?” he asked, picking up the bladder.

“Yes, it’s everfull though. I don’t know if it’ll be useful to them, but I thought it might be used at least as some sort of float.”

She gathered all of the objects up, taking the ball out of Harry’s hands. She put them in a sack she took from her pack. Harry pulled the drawstring on the sack, making it waterproof while Luna pulled out what looked like a shower-cap from her pack.

She slid it over her head, then down over her nose, but not over her mouth. Harry tucked her long hair up into it. When he let go and it snapped into place, it inflated into a Bubble-Head Charm that covered her whole head except for her mouth. It had taken Harry weeks to make it and he’d finally had to go to Professor Flitwick for help with the final charms to make it reusable. 

She took the sack and dragged it to the water, making sure it was fully submerged, then she stuck her head under water. With the bubble over her nose, she could breathe and with it not covering her mouth, she could speak.

He saw the bubbles of her singing to summon the merfolk of the Black Lake. He’d stuck his head under a few times to listen and it had been beautiful. Luna sang well, but her voice was normally thin. However; underwater it pierced a beautiful soprano through the water. He remembered feeling the words go through him.

After a few minutes, she pulled her head up and took off the bubble charm. She very carefully dried it and folded it before putting it away in her pack.

She sat back down next to Harry. He turned his face to her and she kissed him, slow and longingly, her hand sliding slowly down his neck to his back. Harry knew this kiss meant she had something on her mind. She was normally so direct, but sometimes she worried about his feelings too much.

After they parted, he whispered in her ear, “What is it?”

She sighed and pulled back.

“I’ve been offered a job.”

“That’s great!” he said enthusiastically. “What is it?”

“Assistant Groundskeeper at Hogwarts,” she said, watching his face.

He held his face still as his thoughts raced. She’d be staying here. He’d be somewhere else, doing something else. Could their relationship survive distance and time? What did he want to do? He knew he’d waited too long to respond.

“I thought that’s how’d you feel,” she said quietly and lowered her head.

He put his hand under her chin and raised her face.

“I don’t know how I feel yet.”

Her face went rigid which it did when she thought he was lying.

“Really, I don’t know. Tell me about this job.”

She laughed.

“You know what the groundskeeper does.”

“Yes, but I don’t know what this means for you or Hagrid. I thought you didn’t like Hagrid.”

“Oh!” She smiled.

“Hagrid’s a good Groundskeeper; I just don’t think he’s a good teacher.”

Harry nodded.

“Fair enough. So you’d be working with Hagrid, learning the ropes?”

“Yes, he’d like to retire in a few years and they’re looking for someone who knows the grounds and can care for the animals and herds and can get along with the centaurs and merpeople.”

Now Harry smiled genuinely. Nobody, nobody, knew the grounds better than Luna except Hagrid.

“It’s pretty physical work, do you think you’re up to it?”

Luna laughed again, long and trilling this time.

“What Hagrid does by sheer force sometimes, I can do with magic. I can’t lift a hay bale on each shoulder, but he can’t levitate them. I can swim in the Black Lake with a Bubble-Head Charm or Gillyweed and he can’t since the Gillyweed won’t affect him long enough.”

She met his eyes.

“I want this job; I was made for this job. I love this place and the creatures and beings in it.”

He started to turn away, but she held his head in her hands and made him look at her.

“I know you love this place, too. Stay here, be with me.”

He put his hands over hers.

“And do what?” His voice was small.

“Teach,” she said.

“What?”

“I know if you asked McGonagall, she’d agree to an…an apprentice teaching position for you, either in Defence or Charms.”

“I…maybe, but I’d never thought about it before,” he lied.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said, removing his hands from over hers.

“Sorry,” he said.

“I have thought of it before, but I don’t know what I want to do. I love the thought of staying here at Hogwarts with you, but I also love playing Quidditch. I don’t want to be so far from Ron and Hermione again.”

She cut him off.

“You know we can’t all stay together forever; we’ll all move on at some point.”

“Yes, but you’re asking me to stay with you and leave Ron and Hermione.”

“They’ll have each other.”

She kissed him again, this time deeper and longer, hungrier .

“And we’ll have each other here. We can build a cottage on the grounds near Hagrids or we could live in the castle in some of the old staff housing that’s been repaired. I don’t care where we are as long as you’re with me.”

“It’s so sudden…” he started, but then splashing from the lake’s edge interrupted.

They saw the bag being pulled away and a moment later a short, pale-grey skinned merman stood on the edge of the lake, his tail reforming to legs. He said something in Mermish to Luna and she replied politely.

He dropped a small white object on the shore, bowed to Luna, then Harry. His mouth quirked and he said something else to Luna, who laughed, smiled slyly and took Harry’s hand. The merman laughed his strange shrill giggle, which showed his pointed teeth, then he splashed back into the water, his legs becoming a powerful tail again.

“What did he say?” Harry asked. He was learning Mermish from Luna, but it was difficult and the dialect the merfolk spoke in the Black Lake was heavily accented.

“He asked if we were betrothed, and I said not yet.”

Harry pondered the difference between ‘not yet’ and ‘no’ while Luna went to pick up the object the merman had left. 

“Oh,” she said in a small voice.

Harry went to her, embraced her from behind and peered over her shoulder. She lifted her hands to give him a better look.

She held a small piece of ivory or bone, no longer than her little finger. It was untouched by its time in the lake, except for a small hole bored in it. A faint ghost of a twist or spiral showed on its surface. Harry thought he knew what it was.

“Is that…?”

“Alicorn,” she said at the same time he said, “unicorn horn.”

“Ah, yes, alicorn,” he said.

She turned it over and over in her hand, then suddenly she went to her pack. She tugged the leather drawstring out of one of the pockets and put it through the hole in the alicorn. Harry stood near her, watching quietly, his mind still twirling ‘not yet’ around in it.

She tied the ends of the cord together, and bound them with a permanent tying charm. He understood and lowered his head. She slid the necklace up and over, then tucked the cord under his hair at the back. He could feel the purity of the alicorn, the strength flowing from it.

“It’s like the opposite of the Horcrux,” he said finally. He took her hand and put it over the alicorn pendant.

“The Horcrux necklace sounds awful. I’m sorry you had to endure it.” She leaned forward and kissed him again, their hands clasped over the alicorn.

When they broke apart, Harry sat first, then Luna.

“Did you really mean ‘not yet’?” he asked finally.

“I did,” she said, and turned to him.

Their eyes met and she locked him with her gaze.

“That’s where we’re heading, right?”

“I…I think so.”

She blinked at him. The moon reflected off her eyes, then disappeared when she blinked. When it came back, he was trapped in the reflection of it like two mirrors facing each other. The moon on the lake at his back and also in her eyes.

“I do love you, I want to be with you, I want to make this work,” his voice trembled.

“But…”

“No buts,” he said.

“I want to marry and have children; I think I want them with you.” He sighed long and low.

“Now the but,” she said.

“But I don’t know what I want to do. I know now I don’t want to be an Auror. I might want to play Quidditch. I might like teaching. Having to decide so soon is hard.”

“You don’t have to decide right away, you have a few more months. Talk to McGonagall, get her opinion, talk to Ron and Hermione.”

She kissed him lightly again.

“Whatever you decide, I’ll be here at Hogwarts for you. We can make it work here or from a distance.”

She poked him.

“You can Apparate to Hogsmeade on weekends and we can stay in a cottage there.”

He spread his hands like a marquee.

“Luna’s Love Nest,” he said. They could both hear the capital letters.

He tried to kiss her, but they were both laughing too hard and just bonked noses, which caused them to laugh even harder. Eventually, they stopped giggling, but they still held each other close.

“I’ll talk to McGonagall and Hermione tomorrow. But, you’re right, no matter what, we’ll make this work.”

He stood suddenly, pulled his wand and reached out to the reflection of the moon in the lake. He pulled and the reflection stretched like taffy, the light flowing up his wand. It swirled and formed into a slender golden ring with a small white-blue cabochon-cut stone mounted on it.

He took her left hand and slid the ring over her forefinger.

“A promise ring?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly. Harry grinned, you couldn’t easily shake her.

“A promise ring,” he said.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t ask anything.”

She held up the ring and turned it in the moonlight.

“The ring is the question,” she said finally.

“I guess you’re right,” he said.

He got down on a knee and took her hand again.

“Luna Lovegood, will you take my promise to ask for your hand in marriage at some point in the foreseeable future?”

Her long braying laugh carried over the lake and tears of laughter and joy flowed.

“Yes,” she said, still laughing.

She knelt by him and they embraced.

“You had that ring up your sleeve the whole time?” she asked around a laugh.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “but the light show was pretty, wasn’t it?”

She laughed again, then kissed him fiercely again.

From the water, the merfolk watched, just their head above water. On a hidden cue, they all dove at once, making hardly a splash.

“What was that?”

“Just my heart,” Luna said and put Harry’s hand over it.

[thatshadowgastwhore]

i thought to much about a rarepair, fixated on a fic where they are a sidepair at best, thought to much about a post war 5+1 things of silly one-dimensional OC students trying to figure out if the rarepair is actually dating or not, and then my hand slipped and I’m staring at a detailed timeline from 1955-2015 about the OCs families, motivations, ambitions, and goals in life, and now i guess i just have to write about them as the post golden trio generation, please send help i don’t have time for this

[realitybitesyouknowit]

Chapters: 9/9 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Luna/Harry Characters: Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood Additional Tags: Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Triwizard Tournament (Harry Potter), Triwizard Tournament Happens Differently (Harry Potter), Hogwarts Fourth Year, POV First Person Summary:

When my name came out of the Goblet of Fire, my first instinct was to run, but I ended up somewhere that nobody at Hogwarts could have ever predicted.

Except for Luna, that is.

[vomits0cutely]

Harry: i grew up with a lesbian mother and a bisexual father, both of which have a wife and husband so I didn’t know straight people existed until I was like 6

Ron: [is confused on who has a wife and who has a husband] Hold up, I’m confused say that again but slow

Luna: wait me too

Pansy: that’s the life every child deserves.

[brokebaby]

daddy james and uncle reg 🤭​🤭​🤭​ (i hate coloring 😭​)

[moonyswarmsweaters]

Uncle Bee and uncle Evy with baby luna- a canon interaction Barty: Okay Luna, there are 206 bones in the body, but! I’m gonna teach you how to dislocated someone’s body in 230 ways-

Pandora: Barty, She’s a child

Luna:

Barty: Oh yeah! You’re right.

*turns around for a few moments before turning back with puppets over his hands*

Barty, in somewhat a kermit voice: Hi kids! We're going to show you how to dislocate someone's body! Let's start with the Clavicle region. Do you know where that is?

Pandora: Oh my god

———*after a while*———

Evan: Wait what did you teach her?

Barty: There are 206 bones in the human body...

Evan: Barty! She is a CHILD!

Evan: If you are fighting an opponent your age Luna, there may be up to 270 bones in the human body. Children's bones ares still fusing together. Here is how you can use that....

[blvnk-art]

Harry, Ginny and Lily Luna!

[writtenicarus]

luna watching professor lupin turn around when someone shouts loony in the corridor (they were shouting at her)

[ziggystqrdust]

the sillies

[pookha]

A Promise Ring Chapter 4

Tying Loose Ends

Harry and Luna do their homework in his office. Harry is concerned that Luna's new job may be too dangerous. Grimmauld Place is sold and Kreacher reaches his decision.

A/N Sorry for the long delay in getting this chapter out. RL took some priority. I also realized that if I included the wedding it was going to be a very very long chapter, so there will be one more chapter.

“I heard the third years talking about you in the Common Room,” Luna said after she pulled away from the kiss.

“Only good things, I hope,” Harry said and sat back in the chair. This caused Luna, who was sitting on his lap to fall more onto him. She gasped in what sounded like pain, but then laughed and kissed him again. He put his arms around her and tried to pull her in for a longer kiss, but she pulled back and slid off his lap.

“I’d like to just snog all night, but I really do have to finish this essay and get some sleep,” Luna said.

He watched her as she moved stiffly around his desk. When she caught her sleeve on a corner of it he saw a large bruise on her forearm. He pulled the sleeve back further and the bruise went over her elbow and up to her shoulder.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Oh, I was thrown off a thestral,” she said airily. “Fortunately, it was only four or five metres high, so it wasn’t too bad. You should see the bruise on my thigh.”

“Show me?” Harry asked, making it a question rather than a demand.

She nodded and bent over his desk. She reached back and lifted her robes. The bruise on her right thigh started just over the knee and went under the line of her knickers, which Harry noticed were bright pink.

He touched the bruise lightly and her leg trembled involuntarily. He sighed.

“Are you sure you’ll be up for this?” Harry asked, meaning the Groundskeeper job.

Luna nodded and pulled her robes down. She stood back up, pecked Harry on the cheek and sat gingerly on the chair on the other side of his desk.

She pulled her essay out of her pack, then an inkpot and quill and started scratching away at it, humming a jaunty tune lightly under her breath. Harry watched her for a while, dithered, then seemed to come to a decision. He stood. She looked up at him.

“I’ll be right back; do you need anything?” he asked. She shook her head.

When he left the room, she went back to her essay. She pulled books out of her pack and referenced them a few times, and then put them back. She took a break and looked around Harry’s office. Her eyes landed on a piece of photographic paper that showed a repeating photo of a Hufflepuff student she didn’t know knocked on Harry’s door and then the door opened.

She put it down and looked at the crystal ball on Harry’s desk. She unfocused her eyes and gazed into and suddenly she could see the hallway outside Harry’s office. This was obviously the Charms experiment with the Supersensory Charm that Harry had talked about. She pulled her gaze away from the crystal ball and went back to her paper. A few minutes later, Harry came back with a covered ceramic pot in his hands.

He locked the door behind him and put Charms on it for Silence and to repel casual passerby. Luna knew the Charms and they wouldn’t stop someone who really needed to see Harry or any of the Staff.

“Okay, robes off,” Harry commanded.

Luna arched her eyebrows at him.

“I thought you didn’t want to have sex at Hogwarts,” she said bluntly.

Harry’s face colored slightly.

“I do, but we can’t until after we’re married and have private quarters.”

He laughed and lifted the cover from the pot. The sage-y smell of arnica made it clear why he wanted her robes off.

She stood, pulled her robes over her head and leaned over the desk. Harry put the pot down on his desk with the cover next to it. He dipped out a small amount of an opalescent salve from inside the jar and rubbed it into his hands. Then he carefully began rubbing it into the bruise on her leg. He worked his way up from her knee, kneading very slowly and steadily. Luna gasped as her leg went icy, then hot, then moaned as the salve started to work and the knot under the bruise lessened. She turned her head and watched Harry as worked the salve into her flesh. She could just see the edge of the bruise where it circled around onto the front of her thigh. It was yellowed like a days-old bruise. Harry touched her knickers and made an inquisitive noise. She nodded and he pulled them down and slid them over her legs. She lifted one then the other and stepped out of them. He worked the salve into her buttock up to where the bruise ended and she gasped loudly. Now she understood the Silencing Charm on the door. Anyone listening would assume they were having sex in here. When he was done, he helped her back into her knickers, sliding them slowly up her legs. He kissed her on the back of her unbruised thigh as he put them back into place and she shivered again, this time with wanting.

He stood and she turned in his arms and kissed him. Her breasts pressed against him through her bra and he started to lift his hands to them, but stopped. He repeated the whole process with the salve on the bruise on her arm and shoulder. She watched his eyes as he worked and once he looked up and met them. When he was done, he kissed her at the base of her neck, where he knew she loved it. He finished treating a couple of other, smaller bruises, wiped his hands on a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket and closed the jar. He pulled back reluctantly and picked up her robes from the floor. She laughed and put them on.

“I love you,” she said and kissed him again. This time he let the kiss get deeper before he pulled back.“Thank you,” she said.

“Anything for you,” he replied.

They spent the rest of the evening in his office. She worked on her essay and he reviewed his lesson plans for tomorrow and finished his Transfiguration homework.

Luna cast a drying charm on the ink on her essay, then rolled it up with a snap. Harry looked up at her, then the clock. It wasn’t as late as he thought.

She packed away her stuff, then stood, came around the desk and sat on his lap again.

“I have to go in a few minutes, but I thought I’d snog you silly until then.” She smiled and licked his nose. He started to lean forward, but she pushed him back in his chair.

“My turn,” she said. She hitched up her robes, turned to face him more fully and straddled him. She held his hands down at his side. Then, she snogged him silly until she had to leave. Harry watched her go, then watched her in the hallway through the crystal ball and the Charm in his door; she was moving much easier now. He sighed, packed up his own stuff and left. He made sure his office was locked and Charmed before he left. That night his dreams were of bright pink knickers on the floor of his office and his hands on Luna’s thighs.

When he woke up the next day, he saw Luna’s writing on the notepad on the table next to his bed. He put his glasses on and read.

Dreamed of you last night. We were flying on the thestral together when I fell but you caught me before I could get hurt. Your hand burned my wrist hot and icy where you caught me, but your kisses made it all better. I’ll see you at Potions. Love you.

Harry wrote back.

I need to visit Grimmauld Place this weekend to meet the estate agent and we can check out Saturday and Sunday if you’re able.

She must have had the notepad next to her because she replied immediately.

That sounds good. I have to check the unicorn herd Saturday morning, but should be done by noon. Is that good?

Yes. I do the paperwork for us both with Professor Flitwick today. Love you.

He ate breakfast with Hermione like normal and then went to teach a third year class with Professor Flitwick. He made sure to fill out a check-out form and hand it to him.

“Saturday and Sunday?” Filius asked.

“Yes, sir. I have to check in with the estate agent and my house elf and it will be quite late by then. Luna’s coming with me and we’ll stop by her father’s on Sunday to visit and maybe the Burrow as well.”

Filius smiled knowingly.

“Don’t stay up too late Saturday night.”

Harry started to object, but Filius waved him off.

“I was young and in love once, too.” He smiled at a memory. “Give my best to Molly, Arthur and Xenophilius.”

“I will,” Harry replied.

The students started to come in, so they cut their conversation short. Harry thought the class went well, with most of the students grasping the General Counter-Spell. Harry spent some one-on-one time with the ones who struggled and showed how it worked on a variety of Charms. The only issue he had was a boy who just wouldn’t pay attention and kept just listlessly waving his wand and saying the words. Nothing happened. Harry tried to work with him, but the boy just nodded and went along. When Harry went to help another student, the boy just put his head down on his desk and ignored the rest of the students and the din of them practicing.

When the class was over, he approached Filius.

“What was I doing wrong with Mr Fitzgerald?” Harry asked.

“Mr Fitzgerald has been having a lot of issues this year. He was a good student last year, but something happened over the summer and he won’t tell anyone. It’s affected his schoolwork and he also didn’t try out for Quidditch this year and last year he was very excited for it. I’ve talked with Pomona and she’s talked with him, but he won’t open up.”

Harry sighed.

“I don’t understand why we don’t have mental health counselors here at Hogwarts.”

“Is that common in Muggle schools?” Filius asked.

Harry nodded and told him of his experience in school. The counselor was afraid that Harry was being abused, but Harry had deflected her; he didn’t want anyone to come investigate and make it worse. He hadn’t opened up to the counselor, but other students seemed to like her.

“I couldn’t help myself, but some of the other kids did get help from her and if she helped even one child, I think it must be worth it.” He sighed again.

“I’m finding that being an adult has some thorny issues: how to deal with my House Elf without being like a slave-owner; having to sell a house I inherited, but know I’ll never live in; deciding to get married young or not be able to be together at our job; how to look after my godchild when I’m barely not a child anymore. It’s hard.”

“I’d like to comfort you, but some of it will always be hard, but you’ll also have happiness. Ms Lovegood makes you happy, so do your friends. I can tell that your new research makes you happy, too.”

Harry smiled.

“Luna was the best thing that ever happened to me. She has a way of making everything better; she just sees to the heart of the matter. And, I do like my research and I really like teaching, especially the younger kids. I feel like I can see when they get something and it’s like when Hermione teaches me something after I’ve been thick about it.”

Filius laughed now.

“I’ll have Minerva look into counselors. It seems like an especially good idea now, after the war.”

“Thank you, Filius.” Harry looked at his watch.

“Got to run, Quidditch practice. Still looking forward to crushing Ravenclaw in two weeks.”

Filius laughed again as Harry left.

Harry waited outside Hagrid’s hut on Saturday. It was just after eleven when Luna and Hagrid came tromping up from the forest. Hagrid plowed through the slushy snow and Luna walked over it on charmed snowshoes. She lifted her feet on them expertly and Harry admired how quickly she’d picked up the skill. Hagrid waved and shouted.

“Gotta go and see Grawp. Good to see yer, Harry!”

Harry waved back. Luna reached him a moment later. He opened the door to Hagrid’s hut and she took off the snowshoes, stomped the snow from her boots and went in. She hung the snowshoes on a hook just to the side of the door. When he closed the door behind them, she opened her coat to let in the warm air. She held out her arms and he went into her embrace, both of them hampered by their thick coats.

He kissed her cold, cold nose and then her lips; they warmed quickly under his.

“You’re early,” he said when they were done kissing and she was no longer shivering.

“Hagrid helped when he found we had plans today. Do we need to go to the castle to use the Floo from there?”

Harry shook his head.

“Filius gave me Staff Apparation privileges. I can Apparate to and from Hogwarts now, and on the grounds. You have your pack?”

She nodded and pulled a miniature trunk from her pocket, then put it back. Harry had cast the Reversible Shrinking Charm on it himself when Luna was struggling with it. Hermione seemed impressed with how quickly he was picking up new Charms.

“Ready?” he asked and she nodded. He held her tightly and Apparated. They appeared on the top step outside the front door to 12 Grimmauld Place. Luna inhaled sharply, still not used to Apparating long distances, but Harry was used to it from doing it so often while on the run.

“Okay?” he asked, keeping his tight grip around her waist.

She pecked his cheek and nodded.

“Okay,” she said.

He unlocked the door with his wand and opened it. The first thing he noticed was the odor of fresh paint and the second thing was that the portrait of Sirius’s Mum was gone from the wall. He looked at it and could just see where it had been cut or chiseled out and repaired. He knew he could only notice it because of the work he’d done at Hogwarts restoring the castle.

“Master?” Kreacher’s voice came from down the hallway.

“I’m here!” Harry shouted back.

Kreacher came bustling into the hallway, and Harry could smell cinnamon and cloves over the fresh paint smell. Kreacher was obviously baking something that smelled good.

“You’re early!” Kreacher shouted back, wringing his hands nervously.

“We were able to get away early.” Harry stopped Kreacher from taking his coat.

“No, it’s okay, I’ve got it; you go back to what you were doing. I’ll take care of our coats and put our stuff in our room.”

Kreacher bowed and ran back toward the kitchen.

“He wants to please, doesn’t he?” Luna asked, a strange tone in her voice.

Harry ran his hand through his hair before answering.

“Yeah, but I want to please him, too, you know?”

She nodded and kissed his cheek again.

“You will. I have faith in you.”

They hung up their coats and put their boots on the boot tray. Harry made Luna smile when he  pulled Charm-shrunken house slippers out of his pocket, enlarged them and gave a pair to Luna. His were standard issue, but hers were bright purple with spangly stars bedazzled on them. They put them on and then went upstairs. He enlarged both of their trunks and they sat on the bed. Luna ran her hand over the tattered bedspread, obviously enjoying the fine silk embroidery.

“It’s a shame; it’s seen better days, but everything has its time and I guess it’s time to let it go.”

“Yeah, I wish I could keep it, but it just costs too much to maintain and I’ll never live here full time. I’d love to keep it for Teddy, but it’s just not in the cards.” Harry put his hand over Luna’s. He saw his watch.

“We’ve got an hour and half until the estate agent gets here,” he said.

“Plenty of time.” Luna dragged him down onto the bed. Both of their house slippers fell off a moment later.

They cleaned up and made the bedroom presentable again before the estate agent arrived. When she arrived, she was dressed Muggle-style in a slightly out of fashion pantsuit with padded shoulders. Luna smiled at the outfit and Harry knew she was thinking something along the lines of, ‘and people call my fashion sense eccentric.’

The estate agent introduced herself to Luna as Phillipa Gregson and Harry told her that Luna was his fiancée.

Harry ushered her into the sitting room where Kreacher had already laid out tea and biscuits. Phillipa took her tea black and delicately dunked a biscuit in it. She pulled papers out of a satchel that she had to wave her wand at to unlock.

“Sorry, the lock sticks and this is the only way.” She never noticed that both Harry and Luna had their hands on their wands inside their robe pockets.

“Good news is even though we haven’t officially listed yet, we have an offer, but it’s only 80% of what we discussed as price,” Phillipa said, and put a piece of paper in front of Harry.

“Oh?” Harry asked, picking up the sheet and reading it as Phillipa continued talking.

“The Ministry wants to buy it directly. It doesn’t say why particularly, but I suspect they want to keep it as something they could use to house dignitaries. With just a little cleanup, it would be excellent: good location, hidden from Muggles and has just that right ambience of the continent, but with Englishness. ” She laughed.

“I think we should take the offer,” Harry said and handed the sheet to Luna. Her eyes widened slightly at the offer.

“This is 80% of the asking price?” Luna said.

Harry smiled.

“Phillipa says the market is pretty hot right now and especially for wizards around here.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t want  to wait? We could see if there are any other takers?” Phillipa said.

“You told me before that it’s at the top of the market and there aren’t a lot of families that could afford it?” Harry asked.

“That’s right, but there may be some interest from the continent. There are some French and Belgian families looking to have a manor-style house here. But, it’s not assured and a lot of them are looking for a turnkey property and not a, may I speak frankly, a fixer-upper.”

“I say let’s take the offer,” Harry said. He saw a small flicker on Phillipa’s face.

“You can take your commission as if it were the price we suggested,” he said and saw her face twitch again.

“Will you put that in writing?” she asked and Harry nodded. While they were doing the paperwork, Luna got up and went into the kitchen. Harry could hear her talking with Kreacher and Kreacher’s sobs.

“Is everything okay in there?” Phillipa whispered to Harry.

“My house-elf is going to miss this place; he’s served the Black family for a long time,” Harry whispered back.

“And will still, Master Harry,” Kreacher said from right behind him.

He bowed to Phillipa, then said to Harry, “I have decided to go and work with Mrs Tonks and Master Teddy.”

“I think that will prove to be an excellent choice, Kreacher,” Harry stood and offered his hand to Kreacher, who took it and shook it, trembling.

Kreacher went back to the kitchen and Harry and Phillipa finished the paperwork.

“They’ll take over at the end of May,” Phillipa said.

Harry nodded.

“We’ll have everything we want to keep out of here by then. They can keep most of the furniture and do what they want with it.”

They shook hands and she left.

Luna came back in and sat next to Harry.

“What are we going to do with that money?” she asked.

“We don’t need it; I have about twice that much in my vault. I want to give most of it to Andromeda in trust for Teddy. It’s properly his money anyway.”

“I like that idea,” Luna said and kissed him. They kept busy on the couch until Kreacher cleared his throat and announced dinner. After an excellent dinner, Harry talked with Andromeda via Floo and told her about the money and Kreacher. She cried and thanked him profusely while Teddy fussed in the background. Luna promised they’d visit after their wedding and school ended, but before they went on holiday for their honeymoon.

They went to bed early and slept in late. The next day, they visited Xenophilius in the morning and Molly and Arthur in the evening. Bill showed up and talked with Harry about how to set up the trust for Teddy properly. It ended with Bill being appointed Harry’s personal banker and accountant. They got back to Hogwarts late Sunday night, kissed their goodbyes and went to their separate towers.

[naw-sya]

Luna Lovegood Outfit Ideas 💫

[lilbeanz]

Lately I've been pondering alot on footwear in the wizarding/wixen world...

There's so much to tap into fashion wise...like what the hell does just "robes" even mean Terf-face McRowling????

And I feel like the fan base has done such a wonderful job to portray their own beautiful and unique designs and descriptions... but not so much on shoes 🤔

Like the most generic thing is for them to be walking around in muggle shoes or "loafers" or "dragonhide boots"....

Hell no. These mfs are walking around rocking THESE bad bois!!!

✨️S L I P P E R S✨️

At least for dress robes, formal wear, and those who are fun, fancy biatches on the daily......

[sebbianas]

luna lovegood recognizing harry the moment she saw him not because he’s the boy who lived but because of a photo in one of her mom’s photo album where a man who looks like harry was hugging a dark haired boy with a soft smile with her mother’s handwriting at the bottom that says “reg at his happiest”

[likeprongstostars]

godfathers dayy

[astrxq]

jacaerys velaryon x wife!reader — prompt list 9.3.8 and 9.3.9 from my autumn party!

words: 3.4k

notes: “When their partner comes from a hunt, all injured, with a smile because they won. But they are not happy, because what the actual heck?” and “I told you not to go, love! Now look what happened!”  requested

You stood by the window, watching the dragon keepers below as they readied the dragons for flight, their movements precise and practiced. The sky was clear, the wind gentle – the perfect day for a hunt. Yet, even as you stood there, excitement buzzing beneath your skin, you felt the tension simmering in the room behind you.

"I don't want you to go," Jacaerys' voice broke through the quiet, soft yet firm, as though he had repeated the words more than once.

You turned from the window to face him, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a mix of concern and frustration. His brow was furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stood near the hearth, arms crossed over his chest. The firelight flickered across his face, accentuating the strong lines of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze.

"You've made your point," you said calmly, moving closer to him. "But I've made mine. This is important, Jace."

He shook his head, letting out a low sigh as he turned away from the fire to face you fully. "No alliance is worth your safety. You know that as well as I do."

His protectiveness wasn't new, nor was the tension that seemed to surface every time you discussed something risky. Jacaerys Velaryon, the eldest son of Princess Rhaenyra, was many things – stubborn among them. His sense of duty ran deep, forged in fire and tempered by the weight of his heritage. But so was yours.

"It's not just an alliance," you insisted, taking a step closer to him. The space between you felt charged, the air heavy with unspoken words. "Lord Rosby's support could turn the tide in the Riverlands, and you know that. A show of solidarity, something as simple as attending his hunt, could be enough to sway him."

"And what if something happens to you out there?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes dark with concern. "You think I could live with that? Knowing I could've stopped it?"

You sighed, exasperated, though his concern wasn't unwelcome. You loved Jace for this, for the way he cared so deeply, for the way he always thought of you first. But sometimes, that concern bordered on overprotectiveness, and it gnawed at you, especially when it came to matters like this – matters of duty.

"I'm not a delicate flower, Jace," you said, your tone gentler this time, trying to ease the tension. "I can handle myself. Besides, I'll have guards, riders, and we'll be on the lord's land. It's a hunt, not a battlefield."

Jace's jaw tightened, his gaze unwavering. "A hunt can be just as dangerous, especially for someone with little experience."

The heat rose in your chest at his words. You were no stranger to these kinds of debates, and while you respected Jace's wisdom, it didn't mean you always agreed. "I have experience," you countered, lifting your chin. "More than enough to handle this."

He shook his head again, taking a step forward until the space between you all but disappeared. His hand came up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a familiar, tender gesture. "I'm not questioning your abilities, love. I just don't want to see you hurt."

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, softening the edges of your frustration. His dark eyes held yours, full of worry, full of love. It was hard to argue when he looked at you like that, as though you were the most precious thing in his world. And to him, you were.

"I told you not to go," he murmured, quieter now, the words thick with the weight of his worry. "Please. Let someone else handle the hunt."

But there was a fire in you, one that couldn't be easily doused by gentle touches or soft words. You had fought too hard to earn your place in these matters, and you weren't about to let fear – either his or your own – stand in the way. You leaned into his touch, but your resolve didn't waver.

"I need to do this, Jace. For the good of the realm, for us."

He closed his eyes for a moment, his hand slipping from your face as he turned away, running a hand through his dark curls in frustration. "You're as stubborn as a dragon," he muttered, but there was no anger in his voice, only resignation.

You smiled faintly, stepping forward to place your hand on his arm. "You married me knowing that."

A long silence stretched between you, filled only by the crackling of the fire and the distant sounds of the dragons outside. When Jace turned back to you, his expression had hardened, a spark of anger flashing in his eyes.

"And you married me knowing I would protect you," he said, his voice low and intense. "Even if it means protecting you from yourself."

Your own anger flared at his words. "Protect me from myself? I'm not some reckless child, Jace. I'm your wife, your partner. I thought we were equals in this."

"Equals, yes," he said, his voice rising slightly. "But that doesn't mean we can't look out for each other. And right now, I'm telling you this is a mistake."

You took a step back, crossing your arms. "And I'm telling you it's not. I've made my decision, Jace. I'm going on this hunt."

His fists clenched at his sides, frustration evident in every line of his body. "Why can't you see reason? This isn't just about you anymore. We have responsibilities, a future to think about."

"That's exactly why I'm doing this," you countered, your voice sharp. "For our future, for the realm's future. Sometimes that means taking risks."

"Not unnecessary ones," he shot back. "Send someone else. Anyone else."

You shook your head, your resolve strengthening with each passing moment. "No. It has to be me. Lord Rosby needs to see that we're willing to engage personally, not just send envoys."

Jace's eyes flashed dangerously. "And what if something happens to you? Have you thought about what that would do to me? To us?"

His words hit you like a physical blow, and for a moment, you faltered. The pain in his voice was palpable, and you could see the genuine fear behind his anger. You softened slightly, reaching out to touch his arm.

"Jace," you said, your voice gentler now. "I understand your fear. I do. But we can't let it control us. We have responsibilities that extend beyond these walls."

He didn't pull away from your touch, but neither did he relax. "Is it so wrong to want to keep you safe? To protect what we have?"

You could see the battle raging behind Jacaerys’ eyes. His need to protect you clashed with the reality that you were not someone who needed constant safeguarding. You weren’t just his wife; you were his equal, capable of holding your own in the political landscape that surrounded you both.

His hand moved to grip your fingers, his touch firm but trembling slightly. “It’s not wrong, Jace,” you murmured, your voice softening as you stepped closer. “But you can’t protect me from everything. I can’t stay hidden in this keep, waiting for the world to turn without me. We both have to face the dangers that come with our duties.”

He exhaled sharply, his brow furrowing as he searched your face, looking for something – perhaps an argument strong enough to sway you, or maybe the comfort that you would be safe. But you saw the resignation there too, the deep understanding that no matter how much he wanted to wrap you in his protection, you wouldn’t let fear guide your choices.

The room was thick with tension, and the air between you hummed with the weight of your words. You didn’t want to fight with him, didn’t want this to be a rift between you. But it was clear that Jace’s concern wasn’t something that could be easily placated. He would carry it with him, just as you carried your own burdens.

“I do not wish for your hurt,” he whispered, and the vulnerability in his voice tugged at your heart.

Your fingers tightened around his.

There was a long, quiet moment where you both stood, the fire crackling softly in the background, casting shadows across the stone walls. Jacaerys looked down at your entwined hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles absentmindedly, as though trying to memorize the feel of your skin beneath his.

Finally, he nodded, though the tension never fully left his expression. “If you must go, promise me you’ll be careful. Stay with the guards. Don’t take unnecessary risks.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying the fear he still carried.

You smiled, lifting a hand to cup his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “I promise.”

Jace leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly as though seeking solace in the warmth of your hand. Then, with a deep breath, he opened his eyes and straightened, his hand slipping to the small of your back as he pulled you close. His forehead rested against yours, and for a brief moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you – no titles, no duties, no looming threats – just the love you shared, solid and unwavering.

* * *

You burst through the doors, breathless and triumphant, your heart still racing from the thrill of the hunt. A wide smile spread across your face as you hurried towards Jace, eager to share your victory. The hunt had been more successful than you’d hoped – an impressive stag taken down, Lord Rosby clearly impressed by your skill.

But before you could even utter a word, Jace's face shifted, the joy he might have felt clouded by something darker. His eyes, usually warm when they landed on you, were now hard, focused on something beyond the excitement in your expression.

"Gods," he breathed, his voice tight with alarm as he crossed the room in quick strides. "You're hurt."

You blinked, the rush of the day suddenly shifting under his worried gaze. “What?” The confusion in your voice was evident. But then you followed his eyes down to your gown, and reality hit you like a cold wind. Your dress, once a rich shade of deep burgundy, was now stained with dark, drying blood. You reached up instinctively, fingers grazing your cheek, where the sharp sting of a gash reminded you of the near-miss you'd had in the thick of the hunt.

"It’s nothing," you said, waving it off, but the concern etched in Jace’s expression deepened. He was already close, his hands hovering over you as if unsure where to touch without causing you more pain.

"Nothing?" he echoed, incredulous, his fingers gently brushing over the fresh cuts on your face. His touch was featherlight, but the worry in his eyes felt heavy, like a storm gathering just beneath the surface. "You’re bleeding. Your gown–" His voice faltered as his gaze flicked down again, a muscle in his jaw tightening.

“I’m fine, Jace,” you assured him, even as the adrenaline started to wear off and the dull ache of the wounds made itself known. “The hunt was a success. Lord Rosby–”

“Damn Rosby!” His words came out sharper than intended, the flare of his anger catching you both by surprise. He took a breath, his grip tightening on your arms as if to ground himself. His dark eyes searched yours, the fear lurking there impossible to miss. “I told you not to go. I begged you.”

The guilt hit you harder than the pain of the wounds ever could. You’d promised him, but in the heat of the moment, in your determination to prove yourself, you’d taken risks. “It wasn’t as bad as it looks,” you murmured, trying to soothe him, though you knew the words would do little to calm the storm brewing inside him.

Jace’s hands cupped your face now, careful to avoid the cuts, his touch as gentle as ever, despite the frustration simmering beneath. His brow furrowed, and he shook his head, his voice low, almost trembling.

“I told you not to go, love” his voice low and sharp as he reached for you, his hands hovering over your injury as though he didn’t know whether to touch you or pull away. “Now look what’s happened.”

You winced slightly, more from the weight of his worry than the actual pain. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” you tried to assure him, though your voice wavered.

Jace’s eyes flashed with frustration. “Not as bad as it looks? You’re bleeding.”

“I won,” you said, a weak attempt at lightening the mood, but the smile you offered didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He didn’t smile back.

“What were you thinking?” His voice cracked, full of fear and anger and everything in between. “I told you – begged you – not to go. And now you’re hurt.”

His hands finally found your shoulders, gripping you gently as he studied your face, his gaze softening just enough to reveal the fear lurking beneath his anger.

His hands trembled as they rested on your shoulders, the weight of his frustration pressing down on both of you. Jace's eyes, usually so full of warmth, flickered with something sharper now, his anger held tight beneath the surface. His grip was gentle but firm, his touch like an anchor, tethering you to this moment and everything unsaid between you.

"You promised you'd be careful," he whispered, his voice barely louder than the crackle of the fire, though it carried the weight of his emotions. His gaze never left yours, dark and intense, as though he was searching for some explanation that could soothe the storm raging inside him. "And now you're standing here, bleeding, trying to tell me it's fine."

The guilt clawed at you, sharp and unrelenting. You had been so focused on the hunt, on proving your worth, that you hadn’t fully considered what it would do to him if something went wrong. You tried to offer a soft smile, hoping it might ease his worry, but Jace wasn’t ready to let go of his anger just yet.

Before you could say anything, he was already moving, leading you towards the bed, his movements brisk but careful. He gestured for you to sit, then grabbed a cloth from the basin near the hearth, dipping it into the cool water. His hands were steady as he wrung it out, though you could see the tension in his shoulders, the set of his jaw.

Jace's touch softened as he continued to clean the wounds, the cloth gentle against your skin. He worked in silence, the steady rhythm of his hands soothing despite the sting of the cold water. Every movement was careful, his brow furrowed in concentration as he wiped away the blood, dabbing at each cut with an almost reverent tenderness.

His fingers brushed against your temple, where a small gash marred your skin, and you winced slightly, though more from the look in his eyes than the actual pain. Jace’s gaze flickered up to meet yours, concern flashing across his face as if apologizing for causing you discomfort.

“Sorry,” he muttered under his breath, his thumb brushing along the edge of the wound. The cool cloth followed, gentle and precise, as if he could erase the injury with a single stroke.

You shook your head, your lips curving into a small smile despite the ache. “It’s fine. Really. You don’t have to be so careful.”

But Jace just gave you a look – a familiar one, full of that mix of protectiveness and quiet stubbornness that you’d grown to love. “I do,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as though the weight of his worry needed no louder declaration.

The fire crackled quietly in the hearth, casting warm shadows across the room, but the space between you felt closer, more intimate. His fingers lingered longer now, the cloth abandoned as he gently touched your cheek, tracing the path of a now-cleaned cut with the pad of his thumb. His touch was warm, soft in a way that made your heart ache with affection.

"I hate seeing you hurt," he whispered, his voice thick with the emotion he had been holding back. His dark eyes, always so steady and certain, shimmered now with the vulnerability he rarely let surface. "I can’t stand it."

You reached up and took his hand, your fingers wrapping around his, warm and familiar. “I’m okay,” you murmured, pulling his hand down between you.

He let out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he squeezed your hand. There was a stillness to the moment, a quiet tenderness as you both just sat there, your knees nearly touching, the firelight flickering gently against the stone walls.

Jace’s other hand lifted to cradle your face, his fingers threading through your hair as he rested his forehead against yours. The closeness, the warmth of him surrounding you, made the tension from earlier seem so far away. His breath was soft against your skin, his fingers slipping down to your jaw, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek in that slow, comforting way that made your heart flutter.

"I’m sorry," he said quietly, his voice barely a murmur. "I didn’t mean to lash out earlier. I was just so scared."

You tilted your head slightly, pressing your lips softly against his forehead. “I know. I understand.”

The weight of his fear, the depth of his love, was palpable in the way he held you now, as though he could protect you by sheer force of will. You could feel it in every gentle touch, in the way his hands never left you, in the way his breath hitched when he spoke.

"Just… promise me next time, you’ll be more careful," he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple as his thumb traced your cheek one more time.

“I promise,” you said, leaning into his touch, letting the warmth of him soothe the last of the ache. 

For a moment, there was no need for more words. The silence between you was filled with the quiet assurance of your presence, the unspoken comfort of being here, together, in the soft glow of the fire. His hands lingered, tracing over your skin as if committing every inch of you to memory, as if this small moment of peace could stretch on forever.

Jace’s thumb traced the curve of your jaw one last time, lingering as if to memorize the sensation. His breath brushed your skin, warm and unsteady, and for a moment, he was utterly still – caught between his worry and the urge to simply hold you, as if that alone could erase the danger that had come too close today.

Then, slowly, he leaned forward, and the space between you dissolved. His lips found yours in a kiss that was soft, hesitant at first, a tentative brush of affection. But as his hand cradled the back of your neck, threading gently through your hair, the kiss deepened, a quiet promise of his love and fear tangled together. You could feel the weight of his emotions, the unspoken apology for the anger and the silent relief that you were here, in his arms, safe.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his breath came in shallow, quiet gasps. His hand remained against your cheek, fingers soft but firm, as if grounding himself in the closeness of you.

“I’m going to run you a bath,” he murmured, his voice still thick with concern. “You need to rest.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak as the warmth of his words washed over you. There was something comforting in his need to care for you, in the way he was so determined to ease the aches you hadn’t even realized were settling in.

With a gentle kiss to your forehead, Jace stood, moving towards the basin and reaching for a fresh towel. You watched him in the soft light of the fire, his movements deliberate, shoulders still tense but easing as he busied himself with the simple task of preparing the bath.

And for now, that was enough – this quiet, tender moment shared between you, where the world outside could wait.

[wizardemotions]

the question came to mind of "in your ship, how might the larger/stronger party pick up or carry the smaller one?" and these were the answers i came to