Chapter Text
Sunday the 8th of December
It had been close to an hour since Athena had delivered the letter to Harry, and now his petite barn owl was perched snugly on his shoulder, huddled against his neck and hooting softly as she slept. Harry, for his part, was leaned all the way back in his—and Sirius's—favourite leather armchair, flipping the letter in lazy circles and occasionally pausing to stare at the familiar Weasley family seal.
He knew what was inside the envelope; even if years of holiday tradition hadn't been enough of a reminder, the cheery holly border certainly would have been. Still, for some reason, he just couldn't muster up the emotional energy to even open the invitation. It had been a long year, full of joy and happiness, all of which he was so grateful to have been a part of: being the best man in his two closest friends' wedding, teaching Teddy to fly, receiving Ginny and Viktor's engagement announcement. These were all some of the most joyful and proud moments in recent memory—yet, also some of the loneliest.
Somehow, all of those moments were tinged in grey, as every time he looked around at his wonderful adopted family and their assorted spouses, he was reminded that those were milestones which he would never be able to share with his own parents. It didn't help matters that he had just turned twenty-two four months prior and was now a full year older than either of them had lived to be. So as he sat, feeling partially hollow, he was faced with the realisation that he wasn't sure he had it in him to attend the Burrow's Annual Yule Bash. Just for this year, he needed a little bit of time to process his grief without such a vivid reminder of the loss of his parents and their life together.
Sighing, he let his head drop against the back of the chair and squeezed his eyes shut to stop the all-too-familiar flow of tears. Somehow, he had to come up with a good excuse not to attend.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, wallowing in his own sorrow, but Harry was grateful for the sudden chiming of his doorbell since it served as a much-needed distraction from his woes.
Gently, he coaxed Athena onto his forearm and urged her to perch atop his chair. Once she was comfortably placed, he softly ruffled the feathers below her beak—smiling at her contented hoot—then stood and made his way into the foyer. Glancing down, he checked his watch. Two o'clock already, he mused. Where does the time go?
It wasn't until he opened his front door and caught sight of the tumbling cascade of platinum curls that he even remembered today was the second Sunday of December, and thus his bi-monthly afternoon tea with Luna. Her sparkling silver eyes and brilliant smile immediately lifted Harry's spirits and he leaned down to kiss both of her cheeks.
"Hello Harry," she said sweetly, in her usual dreamy manner. "Happy to see me?"
Grinning, he stepped back, offering her his arm, and nodded as he ushered her inside.
"Of course, Luna. Welcome back."
Setting the basket she'd brought with her onto the small wooden reception table Harry had placed beside the door after freeing Kreacher, Luna shrugged out of her fuzzy lavender jacket. She hung it up on the coat rack that she'd gifted him as a re-housewarming present and toed off her matching ballet flats. Then, she picked the basket back up and waved for him to follow along as she casually made her way into his kitchen, looking perfectly at home in her surroundings.
She had been contracted by the Ministry, due to her budding reputation as one of the greatest wizarding naturalists in all of Europe, and had been away on assignment for the past three weeks. Because of this, she hadn't been able to make their last tea date, and it hadn't dawned on Harry just how much he'd missed her until that moment.
Doing exactly as he'd been instructed, Harry fell into her wake. He couldn't help but smile as she pulled out a chair for him at his own kitchen table. She barely even paused to give him a squeeze before she was making her way over to his range, lighting the stove, and setting a kettle to boil.
This was their usual routine, and Harry knew there wasn't much point in trying to take over or start a conversation, at least not until the table had been set. So instead, they fell into a companionable silence as she put together the tea service and he set about lighting a fire in the hearth and unpacking the various tea cakes and sandwiches she had brought along as her contribution. As a team, they made quick work of these tasks, and it wasn't long before they were sitting across from one another, each holding a steaming mug of tea, and catching each other up on the past few weeks of their lives.
As always, the conversation came easily, ebbing and flowing like the tide against the shore. But eventually, after he'd completely caught her up in the goings-on of his current caseload, and she had filled him in on the rare and beautiful creatures that she'd been tracking, a quiet lull settled between them. As they sat indulging in their nibbles and sipping at their mugs, Luna fixed her gaze on Harry and, as was her nature, seemed to peer into his very soul.
With nearly anyone else, even Ron and Hermione, he would have squirmed beneath such close observance. But this was Luna. The one person on earth with whom he never felt the need, or even urge, to mask his discomfort or sorrow from, so he let the mask slip.
"You're unhappy," she spoke softly, as worry creased her delicate brow.
Not trusting the steadiness of his voice, he simply looked at her and nodded before reaching into the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve the invitation from where he'd stashed it when she'd come calling. Pulling it out, he placed it gently on the table between them and, with the tips of his fingers, pushed it towards her.
True to form, it was only a few seconds after she'd picked up the envelope and turned it over in her hands that she had already mulled things over and realisation dawned on Luna's face. Setting the invite back down, she reached across the table and wrapped her hands delicately around Harry's, squeezing them softly.
"You know, Harry," she said gently, "the holidays are often an especially hard time for those of us who have lost people we love. You aren't required to attend every social gathering to which you're invited."
A lump formed in his throat at her words and he swallowed a couple of times in an attempt to clear it before speaking.
"I know that," he murmured softly. But even to Harry's own ears, his voice sounded unsure.
Luna, Merlin bless her, was never one to rush in to contradict him or even push Harry for more information. Instead, she sat quietly across from him, stroking her thumb soothingly back and forth across the ridge of his knuckles, allowing him to share as much or as little as he wanted to, in his own time. It was one of the many reasons he loved her as dearly as he did.
Finally, clearing his throat, Harry pressed on.
"It's not that I don't love the Weasleys," he said quietly. "I absolutely adore them, of course. They've taken me in. Not just treating me as though I was family, but truly making me a part of theirs. It's just that sometimes, especially around the holidays, being a member of their family can feel like a vivid reminder of the fact that I've lost mine."
His admission hung heavy in the air, and Harry was mortified by how ungrateful it sounded to his own ears.
But instead of dismissing or reprimanding him, Luna simply gave his hands another squeeze and softly said, "Well of course it would."
When Harry glanced up at her, surprise shone in his eyes and his cheeks were tinged pink with embarrassment.
"It would?" he quietly asked.
"Yes, Harry," she replied with a warm, yet sad sort of smile. "You're surrounded by so many people you love, who love you, creating wonderful memories. It's only natural that you would want to be able to share those memories with all of the people you love. Especially the ones who should be there, but can't be. Time doesn't erase the pain of grief; it only softens its edges. But as we all know, a dull knife is far more likely to cut you than one that’s sharp."
The lump in his throat swelled and Harry found himself unable to reply, so instead, he merely nodded and dropped his gaze to the mug on the table in front of him. After a minute or two had passed, Luna stood up, placed a sisterly kiss to the crown of his head, gathered up their empty plates and, in order to give Harry some time to sit with his feelings, she began to wash the dishes.
He was still staring into his tea when she softly cleared her throat. Glancing up, he found her gaze fixed on him with one dainty brow raised quizzically, and he realised that he must have been so lost in thought that he'd missed what she'd said entirely.
"I'm sorry, Luna. I seem to have spaced out for the past little while," he said and gave an embarrassed smile as an apology. "Would you mind running that past me once more?"
"Of course not, Harry," she said as her brow smoothed back into place, flashing him a cheerful smile. "I was explaining that I've only just now remembered that Rolf and I are meant to fly to New York over the holidays. We're going there to visit his Great Aunt Queenie Kowalski, so we won't be back until after the New Year."
"Oh. That should make for a happy trip," Harry said, unable to hide his slightly bemused expression.
"Indeed," she chirped cheerfully. "It should."
By the look that Luna was giving him, it was clear that she'd been telling him about her and Rolf's plans as more than just an anecdote. Feeling a flush rising in his cheeks, Harry gave her a bit of a sheepish smile and continued, "I'm afraid I'm not following along."
"Oh!" she said suddenly, and her features lit up with delight. "What that means is that Rolf and I won't be able to make it up to the Scamander cabin in the Cairngorms this year. Which is too bad, considering that it's a lovely little place, all cosy and snug, settled perfectly into the side of the mountains. The perfect place for someone to escape from their worries and spend some quality time just clearing their mind. However, it really shouldn't be left unattended all winter, so we have been hoping to find someone that might be interested in cabin-sitting for us while we're away."
Realisation of what Luna was offering slowly began to dawn on Harry and his eyes widened at her generosity.
"You have?" he asked, unable to disguise the hope from his voice.
"Indeed," came her chipper reply. "I understand if you'd rather spend the holidays at home, here at Grimmauld Place. But, if you do have any interest in heading up north and getting away from the hustle and bustle of London, we would be delighted to have you stay at our place."
Luna even had the kindness to look earnest at the last, and Harry couldn't help the enormous grin that blossomed upon his face.
"Really?" he asked, brimming with excitement.
Luna simply smiled and nodded with a soft, "Of course."
Before he knew what had come over him, Harry bolted up from his chair. Nearly knocking it over in his excitement, he quickly righted the piece of furniture, and then strode over to where Luna was standing beside the sink.
She had opened her arms to him, but let out a startled little chuckle when, instead of the hug that she'd been expecting, he squeezed her tight, lifted her up off the floor and jubilantly spun her around.
"Thank you, Luna!" he whispered, voice thick with emotion, as he gingerly set her back down. "And please thank Rolf for me too."
Her chime-like laughter filled the kitchen with warmth and wrapped itself around Harry like one of Mrs Weasley's Christmas jumpers. Giving him one last quick squeeze, Luna then stepped back and lightly swatted him on the shoulder.
"Pish tosh! You know that there's no need to thank us," she softly chided, but there was nothing save for affection reflected back at him in her eyes. Finally, her features softened and Luna smiled up at him before continuing, "Besides, you really will be doing us a considerable favour by watching it for us while we're away."
And just like that, the problem of Harry's holiday debacle had been solved.