The Raven's Call

Loss & Gain

The grounds of Hogwarts were unrecognizable—decorated now with rubble, fire, ash, and blood. Only the bodies of a few Death Eaters remained, scattered and forgotten in the dirt. "Where is everybody?" Hermione asked softly as we made our way up the stone steps. The main entryway was eerily quiet. No signs of battle, no shouting or spells. Just the distant murmur of voices coming from the Great Hall.

I didn't know what I expected when we stepped inside. But it wasn't this. The Great Hall had been transformed into a makeshift hospital. The long tables were gone, replaced by stretchers and blankets, injured students and staff lying or sitting, tended to by anyone with spare hands and potions. It was chaos, but organized. Gentle. Like the eye of the storm. My heart pounded faster with every step.

Please don't be Stella. Please don't be Luna. Please don't be— I stopped cold. The world tilted sideways. There, in the center of a sea of red hair, Fred Weasley lay still in his mother's arms. Lifeless. It felt like Cedric all over again. But worse. Not Fred. Merlin, not Fred. I couldn't stop the tears as Ron broke into a sprint, crashing into his family like a wave. I ran after him, barely breathing, as George pulled us both into a shaking hug. His face was soaked with grief, and mine was soon the same. I didn't know what to think. What to feel. Only that the war hadn't even ended yet... and already, it had taken too much.

"Atti—" Stella's voice cracked as she stumbled toward me from behind, her face streaked with tears, her whole body trembling. I pulled away from George just in time to catch her in a tight embrace, wrapping my arms around her like I could shield her from everything that had just happened. I was so glad she was okay. But her face—red, puffy, broken. "No... who else?"

"Remus and Tonks..." she choked out, clinging to me like I was the only thing holding her together. "They died trying to protect me—" Her voice gave out in a sob. "It's my fault—" "Stop," I said firmly, pulling back just enough to place a hand on her head, grounding her. "It is not your fault." I looked down at her, trying to hold in my own grief, my own storm. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Before Stella could respond, a blur of blonde hair swept past the edge of my vision. I barely had time to register it before arms wrapped tightly around me and a familiar scent of petrichor flooded my senses. "Luna," I breathed, the word catching in my throat. She didn't say anything. Just held me. And I held her back, fiercely. I pulled away just enough to see her face. Her wide blue eyes were glassy but glowing, full of unspoken relief. She reached up and cupped my cheek with both hands like she couldn't quite believe I was real.

Then she kissed me. Soft at first, then deeper, urgent. Everything else faded. The ache in my chest, the chaos outside, even the grief for those we'd lost. For that one second, it was just her and me. When we finally broke apart, foreheads resting against each other, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding in. 

As Luna nestled closer, I reached into the inside pocket of my robes and pulled out the small, worn book—one of two. The pages were smudged and creased from years of use, but the magic within still pulsed faintly, binding it to its twin. Asteria's book. The book grew to its actual size before I flipped it open, fingers trembling slightly—not from fear this time, but the weight of what I had to say. I dipped the quill tip against the page and began to write: Bring Snape to the Great Hall. There's an open space in front of the fireplace. You should be here.

The ink shimmered for a moment, then vanished—transferred instantly to her side. I stared at the page, willing her to see it, to come. Luna glanced down at the book, her hand still in mine. She didn't ask questions. She just squeezed gently and said, "She'll come." And I hoped—Merlin, I hoped she was right. There was a soft poof, and when I looked up, they were there. Asteria knelt beside Snape, her head bowed, one hand resting gently on his chest. She didn't move, didn't speak—just stared at him, as if willing him to open his eyes one last time. Then she stood. Her eyes scanned the hall. They found Fred. She froze.