Dawn arrived quietly, hesitant, as though the world itself was unsure what it wanted to be. Theo sat at the edge of the bed in that fragile hour when night loosens its grip and morning has not yet claimed its shape. Pale silver light slipped through the curtains and traced slow lines across the floor, across the walls, across Luna where she slept. It rested on her like a blessing he did not feel worthy to witness.
She lay curled beneath the blanket, one arm folded beneath her head, the other draped protectively over the curve of her belly. Her breathing was even, calm, untroubled. The rhythm of it should have anchored him. Instead, it only sharpened the ache in his chest.
He had not slept. He had closed his eyes, held her close, matched his breathing to hers, yet his mind never went still. The silence after he returned had crept over him and settled deep, slipping past skin and bone until it lodged somewhere permanent. It was not guilt in the way people liked to imagine it. It was certainty. A cold, unyielding awareness that something irreversible had been done.
He had crossed a line.
And she did not know.
Luna, who had always seen him clearly, who had touched the places in him he never named and loved him anyway, had not asked where he had gone. She had not questioned the care with which he undressed, the way he kissed her before bed as though memorising the shape of her mouth, the way he wrapped himself around her and stayed awake until dawn.
He had held her as if his arms could protect her from truth itself.
But truth never stayed buried. It pressed outward. It breathed. It whispered when the house was quiet and the world was soft.
He turned slightly, his gaze tracing her shoulder, the gentle line of her jaw, the pale strands of hair spilled across the pillow. She looked untouched by the violence of the world, untouched by him. There was something defiant in that, something almost unbearable.
He had done this for her. For her and for the life growing inside her.
A breath left him, low and unsteady, a sound that might have been a prayer if he believed he was still allowed such things. He wanted to believe love could redeem him. He wanted to believe the darkness could be contained, sealed away where it would never reach her.
She stirred then, shifting beneath the covers. A soft sigh escaped her, warming the room by its simple existence. Theo's chest tightened. He was not ready. He was not ready for her eyes, for what they might hold once the truth entered the space between them.
"Good morning, my love," he said quietly. His voice felt thin, fragile in the stillness.
Luna blinked awake, her eyes adjusting to the light. She stretched, slow and unguarded, a smile forming before she fully focused on him. "Good morning, my sun," she murmured, still wrapped in sleep.
Then she really looked at him.
The smile faded. Concern settled into her features as she pushed herself upright, the sheets sliding to her waist. "Theo?" Her voice shifted, alert now. "What is it?"
His jaw tightened. He glanced toward the window, where dawn was beginning to blush the sky. The light felt distant, drained of comfort. He looked back at her. She watched him closely, hair tangled, eyes clear and searching.
He drew a breath. The words landed with weight, solid and final.
"Ron Weasley is dead."
The room went still.
Her breath caught. Her eyes widened as if the world had tilted beneath her. "What?" The word barely carried sound. She reached for him without thinking, her hand closing around his arm. "Oh. Merlin."
He swallowed. Heat flared behind his ribs, sharp and unwelcome.
"And she is too," he said, his voice low, edged with something he did not soften in time.
Luna flinched.
She looked at him then, truly looked, as if trying to reconcile the man in front of her with the one she loved. "Theodore," she said quietly. She said his name like an anchor, like a plea. Her hand slid into his. "Please do not speak like that."
Her touch cut through him. The anger drained away, leaving something hollow behind. He nodded, the movement heavy.
"I am sorry," he said. The words tasted wrong, insufficient. "I should not have said that."
He reached for her then, needing her closeness as if it were air. His arms wrapped around her, tight, almost desperate. "Come here," he whispered. "Please."
She went to him without hesitation. Her head rested against his chest, over a heart that refused to slow. They stayed like that, wrapped in silence thick with grief and questions neither of them could yet shape.
As she lay against him, her body trembled in small, uneven waves. The silence between them stretched, heavy with disbelief. She did not cry at first. The grief moved slowly, seeping into her bones and filling her lungs with something cold and sharp. Her breath caught, and for a long moment all she could do was clutch at his shirt, as if it were the only thing keeping her tethered to the world.
When the tears came, they arrived without sound. They slid down her cheeks in quiet streams, her body lagging behind the truth it was still learning to carry. Theo felt every tear like it had landed on his own skin. He tightened his arms around her, pulling her close, as though holding her could keep her from splintering.
"I've got you," he whispered, the words rough in his throat. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
Even as he spoke, something inside him folded inward. Guilt pressed hard and unforgiving. He had no right to hold her like this. Not with everything he had done. Not with the silence he was still keeping.
Luna did not know. She did not know about the blood on his hands, the choices made in rooms without windows, the lines crossed without witnesses. He had built walls to keep her safe from all of it, from the worst parts of himself. Now the truth sat beside them like a presence with breath and weight, watching as she cried into his chest.
Her sobs were soft, yet they shook him all the same. He ran his hand through her hair, slow and careful, murmuring comforts that tasted wrong in his mouth. Every word felt thin. Dressed-up emptiness.
How could he promise to protect her when he had been the one to unleash the storm. How could he be safety when the ground beneath them trembled because of him.
They stayed that way as the sky grew brighter, morning easing into the room through the curtains. The house remained still and unaware. Outside, the world continued with its quiet indifference. Inside, something had shifted and refused to settle back into place.
He pressed his lips to her hair again, slower now, as if touch alone might stitch things back together. He let her warmth sink into him, anchoring him to something that still felt real. "I love you," he said softly, the words nearly lost against her skin. They felt like the last solid thing he had left. "I love you so much."
Luna drew back just enough to meet his eyes. Tears streaked her face, yet her gaze was steady. Grief lived there, but so did something gentler. Something that had not turned away from him. "I love you too," she whispered. Her voice wavered, though the words did not. "We'll get through this, won't we?"
He nodded, slow and careful, as if the movement itself carried risk. "Yes," he said. The word tasted like smoke. "We will. I promise."
He wished he believed it.
She settled back into the curve of his body, her breathing finding a rhythm against his chest. Theo closed his eyes. The weight of her trust pressed into him like a second heartbeat. Behind the quiet, behind her steady breath and the promise he had no right to give, the truth crouched in the corner of the room like a living thing. Watching. Waiting.
He knew it could not stay hidden forever.
~~~~~~
Luna sat frozen on the edge of the bed, her hands knotted in the fabric of the sheets, her heart hammering so hard she could feel it in her throat. The room was painfully quiet, the kind of stillness that felt wrong, as if the world itself had paused to watch her break. Ron and Lavender were dead.
The words refused to settle. They hovered, sharp and unreal, pressing down on her chest until it felt hard to breathe. Two lives, gone. Ron, all stubborn loyalty and reckless courage. Lavender, loud and bright and endlessly reaching for happiness. However complicated they had been, however much history sat between them, they had been alive. And now they were not.
Theo had told her calmly. Too calmly. His voice had been steady, measured, stripped of warmth in a way that frightened her more than panic ever could. She had barely recognized him in that moment, though she had seen it in his eyes, the tension pulled tight beneath his control. The words had landed like stones in her stomach, heavy and final.
The silence afterward had stretched until it hurt. He had leaned down, kissed her forehead, and told her to rest. To leave it for later. As if later could make this easier.
She could not rest. Her thoughts were spiraling, grief clawing at her ribs, threatening to pull her under. And through the chaos, one name cut through everything else.
Pansy.
She moved to the fireplace on instinct, her hands shaking as she tossed the powder into the flames. The fire flared green, roaring to life as her voice broke through it, raw and unguarded.
"Pansy. Ron's dead. Oh gods, Pansy, he and Lavender are dead."
On the other end, Pansy went very still.
"Oh Merlin," she breathed, the words barely holding together. The sound of it carried more weight than any scream.
Luna's voice fractured as she tried to keep speaking. The soft dreamlike cadence she usually carried was gone, stripped away until there was only disbelief and fear. "I can't understand it. I don't know how this happened. They were just… they were both killed."
Pansy's mind reeled. Lavender Brown, all perfume and sharp edges and laughter. Ron Weasley, infuriating and familiar and impossible to ignore. Dead. The idea refused to make sense, sliding off her thoughts like water.
"It's… gods, Luna," Pansy said, and then stopped. There were no words that fit. Nothing that could make this sound real.
The call did not last long. Luna was shaking too hard to say more, and Pansy found herself grasping for comfort she did not know how to give. They ended it gently, voices low and unsteady, both of them left staring into silence that felt suddenly much too big.
When the flames died down, Luna stood there alone, her reflection warped in the dark glass of the hearth. The truth sat heavy in her chest, aching and unresolved.
Ron and Lavender were dead.
And nothing about the world felt solid anymore.
~~~~~~
Lysander sat cross-legged on the rug, his enchanted blocks drifting in slow, careless circles above his head before dropping back down with soft little thuds. On any other day, he would have laughed. He would have clapped, reached up with those sticky fingers, eager to send them floating again. Today, he did none of that. His mouth stayed closed. His brows were drawn together, not in frustration, but in quiet concentration, as if even at three years old he could sense that something had gone slightly wrong in the world.
His gaze kept slipping toward her. Again and again. The blocks seemed secondary, almost forgotten, while he watched his mother with a patience far older than him. It was as though he was waiting for something in her to return, for a familiar warmth to click back into place.
Luna had not spoken for a while. She sat near the window, her shawl pulled loosely around her shoulders, one hand resting over the gentle curve of her stomach. Her eyes were not on the garden. They were not on anything at all. She was still, suspended in a moment that felt stretched thin, like the world had slowed down and left her behind.
Lysander did not have words for grief or dread or the heavy quiet filling the room, yet he felt it anyway. It clung to the air, cool and unseen, and it unsettled him.
He pushed himself to his feet and padded over on uncertain steps, his small fingers catching in the fabric of her robe. He tugged once, then again, a little more insistently. "Mama," he said, soft and steady, like the name itself could draw her back.
Luna blinked, pulled from a stillness she had not noticed settling over her. She looked down, and her focus finally sharpened. On him. On her son. On the one thing keeping her upright. His eyes met hers, blue and earnest, holding more concern than she thought possible.
She bent and gathered him into her arms, forcing a smile that wavered at the edges. He fit against her hip as if he belonged nowhere else, warm and solid and real. "I'm here, my love," she murmured, her voice wrapped in a softness that carried more ache than she meant to show.
Lysander studied her face with solemn intensity. His small hands cupped her cheeks, thumbs pressing gently as his brows knit together. "Mama," he said again, quieter now. "Sad?"
Her throat tightened. She had tried to keep herself steady, to hide the sorrow behind routine and gentle words. It had not worked. It never did with him. He noticed everything.
"Yes," she whispered, brushing a curl away from his forehead. "Mummy is a little sad today."
His mouth puckered into a thoughtful pout. "Boo-boo?"
A breath escaped her that sounded almost like laughter and almost like a sob. She shook her head slowly. "It's a different kind of hurt, sweetheart."
His fingers tapped lightly against her chest, right where her heart ached. "Here?" he asked, barely audible.
Something cracked open inside her. Luna closed her eyes and pressed her lips into his hair, holding him closer. "Yes," she said softly. "Right there. Mummy's friend has gone away."
Lysander blinked, turning the words over the way he always did when trying to understand something too big for him.
Luna knelt beside him, keeping her voice soft and simple, the way she always did when the world felt too big. "Do you remember Nelly?" she asked gently.
Lysander looked up at her at once and nodded, very sure. "Neh-lee," he said, patting the floor like he expected her to pop out with a snack.
Luna smiled sadly and brushed her thumb over his hand. "Nelly isn't here anymore," she said. "Her body got very tired, so she had to go somewhere else."
He frowned, thinking hard, then tilted his head. "Sleep?"
"A little like sleep," Luna said quietly. "But a long one. She doesn't hurt, and she isn't sad."
He considered that, then nodded as if it made perfect sense. "Sky," he said again, pointing up.
"Yes," Luna whispered, her throat tight. "She's in the sky now."
He smiled, satisfied, and leaned against her leg. "Neh-lee happy."
Luna closed her eyes and kissed his hair. "Yes, my love," she murmured. "Very happy."
He rested against her for a moment longer, his fingers playing with her sleeve. Then he lifted his head, the heaviness lifting just enough for curiosity to return. "Play?" he asked, hopeful and sincere.
She let out a shaky breath she had not known she was holding. In his world, sadness could sit beside joy, and comfort could come from simple things.
"Yes," she said, kissing his forehead. "Let's play."
He wriggled free and toddled back to his blocks, laughter bubbling up as one toppled into his lap. He glanced up at her, grinning. "Happy now?"
Luna reached out and smoothed his hair, her hand lingering. "Yes, my love," she said softly. "Because you're here."
~~~~~~
Theo had become a constant presence in her life, a steady source of warmth and devotion that never wavered even when everything else felt unsteady. His care surrounded her quietly, offering shelter during the hours when grief pressed too hard against her chest. He did not try to fix her sadness or rush it away. He simply stayed, reminding her through small gestures and patient affection that joy still existed, even if it felt distant and fragile.
One crisp evening, as the sun sank low and painted the sky in deep orange and violet, Theo decided she needed something different. He had watched her grow quieter over the past weeks, her smiles thinner, her laughter rarer. That gentle light in her eyes had dimmed, and he missed it fiercely. So he planned a night meant to soften the edges of her sorrow, arranging every detail with careful hands and a hopeful heart.
He told her very little. He helped her into her coat, kissed her knuckles with quiet reverence, and took her hand. They Apparated together to a secluded meadow far from the noise of the world. Twilight blurred the landscape into something softer, and the first stars were beginning to appear overhead.
A breeze stirred the tall grass around them. In the center of the clearing, a blanket lay waiting, surrounded by a spread of her favorite foods. Candles floated low above the ground, their flames glowing gold against the deepening blue of evening. Wildflowers framed the clearing, their petals turning subtly toward Luna as she approached, coaxed by a trace of magic.
Her breath caught. She looked at him with open wonder.
Theo reached for her hand, their fingers fitting together with the ease of people who had chosen each other again and again. The warmth of his touch settled something inside her, a quiet grounding that felt like the first hint of spring after a long winter.
Above them, the sky stretched wide in indigo and rose, scattered with stars that shimmered softly. The night air carried the scent of jasmine and forest earth. Luna breathed it in, letting the moment loosen her shoulders and ease the tension she had been holding for too long.
"Trust me," Theo murmured, his voice low and warm, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Tonight will help you remember how to love the world again."
She glanced at him, curiosity flickering. "And where are we going?"
He smiled, the expression holding a promise he meant to keep. "Close your eyes. Let me show you."
After a brief hesitation, she did. With her hand in his, she let him guide her forward, her steps careful and unafraid. The ground beneath them felt soft with moss and moonlit grass. Somewhere ahead came the quiet sound of water and the whisper of leaves shifting in the breeze.
When he stopped, the silence felt expectant. "Open," he whispered.
Luna opened her eyes.
They stood at the edge of a hidden glade deep within the forest. A lake spread out before them, smooth as glass, catching the moonlight in ripples of silver and gold. Fireflies drifted lazily above the water, their glow tracing gentle arcs through the air. On the far bank, willows leaned over the surface, their branches trailing into the lake like fingertips brushing a mirror.
She stared, wordless, the beauty of it pressing softly against the ache in her chest.
"Oh, Theo," she breathed. "It's perfect."
"I hoped you would feel that," he said, his voice quieter now. "This place made me think of you. Calm. Beautiful. A little otherworldly."
She turned toward him, her heart tightening at the way he looked at her, as if she were something precious and rare. "You did all this for me?"
He nodded, then reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering there. "You have not smiled much lately," he said gently. "I wanted to give you a night where you could."
Her eyes burned, though no tears fell. Instead, she leaned in and kissed him, a kiss filled with gratitude and longing. He returned it with unhurried devotion, holding her as if he always would, steady and certain, no matter how many dark days still waited ahead.
When they pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his, breathing him in as if the moment itself might slip away if she did not hold it carefully.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He smiled and brushed his thumb along her cheek, slow and tender. "You never have to thank me. Just stay here with me."
So they sat by the lake, shoulder to shoulder, their fingers woven together while the moon climbed higher and the stars blinked down like familiar companions. Beyond the edge of the glade, the world still waited with its grief and unanswered questions, yet none of it could reach them here. There was only the still water, the hush of wind through leaves, and the quiet, steady love holding them in place.
Theo disappeared briefly behind a nearby tree and returned with a small wicker basket tucked against his chest, his smile bright and almost shy. Inside were her favorite things, pastries dusted with a faint shimmer of magic, slices of fruit glowing softly as if kissed by moonlight, and small bottles of spiced cider that fizzed when he set them down.
"I thought we could have a picnic," he said as he spread a thick wool blanket across the grass, smoothing each corner with care. When he looked up at her, there was a hopeful softness in his eyes that made her chest ache.
She laughed, the sound surprising her with its ease, light and genuine in a way she had not felt for weeks. "You really thought of everything," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Only for you," Theo replied. His voice held a depth that went beyond affection, steady and sincere. "I know things have been heavy. I wanted to remind you that beauty still exists. That we can still build something gentle, even when life feels tangled."
They settled onto the blanket, the grass beneath them warm from the day. The trees whispered overhead and the lake rippled quietly nearby, wrapping them in a stillness that felt almost sacred. Theo opened the basket and offered her each treat in turn, watching her reaction with open attention. She tasted a honeyed pastry that sparkled on her tongue, and her smile came without effort.
The sadness remained, lingering at the edges of her thoughts, yet it loosened its hold. There was room now for warmth, for memory, for the comfort of sitting beside someone who loved her enough to make space for light.
They spoke in low voices, shared old stories, laughed softly at memories that still belonged to them. Moonlight skated across the surface of the lake like spilled silver. Luna leaned into his shoulder, breathing in pine and the familiar scent of him, feeling grounded in a way nothing else could offer.
"Thank you for bringing me here," she murmured, her fingers tracing the edge of the blanket. "I did not realise how much I needed this."
Theo turned slightly to face her, his expression earnest and calm. When he spoke, his words carried a quiet promise. "You deserve happiness. I will always try to help you remember that."
Luna laughed before she could stop herself. The sound rose from her chest and spilled into the night, honest and bright, surprising her as much as it pleased him. It had been far too long since laughter had come so easily. She watched him fuss over every detail, the careful angle of the basket, the way he arranged the pastries, how he caught a drifting napkin and tucked it neatly beside her plate. "You really went all out," she said, awe softening her voice, warmth blooming behind her ribs.
"Only for you," Theo replied, meeting her gaze with a seriousness that held nothing heavy in it, only care. "I know things have been difficult. I wanted to remind you there is still beauty here. Even now. Even like this. We can make new memories, even when everything feels tender."
They sat close, legs tangled on the blanket, while he passed her each treat in turn. Every bite felt like a small miracle, a reminder that magic still knew how to be kind. A pastry tasted of candied violets, a slice of peach shimmered faintly with sunlight trapped inside it. Her laughter returned more often, lighter each time.
Moonlight danced across the lake, and fireflies drifted through the air like wandering stars. Luna leaned into Theo's shoulder, breathing in cedar and the familiar warmth of him. The tightness in her chest eased, just enough to let her breathe freely.
"Thank you for this," she murmured. "I did not realise how much I needed it."
Theo looked down at her, eyes soft and shadowed, reflecting the silver light above them. "You deserve happiness," he said again, each word spoken with care. "I will do everything I can to help you hold onto it."
She answered by threading her fingers through his beneath the blanket. Their hands fit together with quiet certainty. Around them, the night settled into itself. Water lapped gently at the shore. Somewhere in the distance, a night bird sang.
They let the silence speak for them. Breath matched breath. Heartbeats found a shared rhythm. Wrapped in moonlight and magic, they stayed like that until the stars began to pale toward dawn.
Later, as lanterns floated across the lake, their golden light rippling over the water, Luna watched them drift. The night felt full rather than empty, filled with warmth, with presence, with the soft sounds of the world remembering gentleness. Theo's arm rested around her shoulders, steady and sure. She leaned into him and allowed herself to believe that healing could be quiet. That it could arrive slowly, through shared laughter, through stillness that felt safe.
Her gaze followed the lanterns as they bobbed and glowed. Something inside her shifted. The grief remained, a quiet echo, yet it no longer consumed her. It had softened. It had begun to listen. She was breathing again.
She did not need to say it. Theo felt it in the way her fingers curled around his, in the calm of her breathing. He kissed her temple, and she closed her eyes, holding the moment close.
In that hidden clearing, surrounded by fireflies and fading sorrow, Luna understood something with gentle clarity. Sorrow would always live in her story. It would not be the end of it.
Love had found its way back.
They sat together, two hearts learning a shared rhythm again. With every quiet glance and unspoken promise, she felt the beginning of something new.
~~~~~~
The rain had been falling all afternoon, tapping softly against the windows in slow, sleepy patterns. Outside, the sky had faded into a dull silver, heavy with low clouds that pressed close to the fields. Inside the manor, the air felt warm and still. The fire crackled in the hearth, light flickering gently across the walls, wrapping everything in comfort. Luna and Lysander had settled in for what they thought would be an ordinary rainy day.
Then Theo appeared in the doorway, wand already in hand, a spark of mischief bright in his eyes.
"I hope you're ready," he said, voice full of purpose, stepping into the room. "Because today, we are flying to the stars."
Luna lifted a curious brow from her place on the sofa, her tea forgotten halfway to her lips. Lysander, curled beside her with his plush dragon tucked under one arm, looked up at Theo with wide, serious eyes.
"Stars?" he asked softly, testing the word like it might float away if he said it too loud.
Theo answered without speaking. He lifted his wand and gave it a slow, careful sweep, and the room began to shift.
The large rug rolled itself neatly into the corner. Blankets lifted from the back of the sofa and floated through the air, settling into the shape of a soft tent that arched over the floor. Pillows drifted in from nearby rooms, stacking themselves into gentle piles perfect for climbing and hiding. Fairy lights blinked on one by one, casting a warm glow as they zigzagged overhead like friendly constellations.
Lysander sat straight up, his dragon tumbling from his grasp. "Mama," he said, tugging on her sleeve. "Look. Big house."
Theo scooped him up with exaggerated care, lifting him high as if crowning him. "This is not a house," he said solemnly. "This is a sky ship. It is for flying. It is for brave boys and their lovely mamas."
Lysander giggled, clutching Theo's shoulders. "I brave."
"You are very brave," Theo said, kissing the top of his head before setting him down. "Captain Ly, we must get ready. Do you have snacks? Do you have your dragon? Do you have Mama?"
Lysander nodded hard. "Got Mama."
"Good," Theo said. "Then we can go."
Luna laughed as she set her tea aside and crawled under the blanket tent with them. Inside, the storm outside felt far away. The air smelled faintly of cinnamon, and small plates of snacks floated past like slow, friendly clouds.
Lysander settled between them, cheeks pink, eyes shining as he stared at the twinkling lights above that now looked like a night sky. His voice had already grown soft with sleep. "We fly now?"
"Yes," Luna whispered, brushing his hair back gently. "We fly anywhere you want."
Theo reached for her hand, warm and steady. "We can go to the moon," he said. "We can fly over tall mountains. We can visit the place where socks go."
"Socks," Lysander said with deep interest. Then his face lit up. "Neh-lee there."
Luna felt the ache in her chest soften as she smiled. "Maybe she is."
Lysander nodded, satisfied. Neh-lee got socks."
Later, Luna covered her mouth, trying to hold back her laughter. Theo was on all fours beneath the glowing quilts, crawling slowly across the floor. Lysander clung to his back, legs barely long enough to hold on, face serious with purpose.
"Go fast, Daddy," Lysander said, bouncing slightly.
Theo made a low rumbling sound, moving with great care. "Hold on," he said. "Clouds are big today. We go to cocoa mountain."
"Choco," Lysander repeated happily.
Luna laughed then, bright and unguarded, stepping closer as warmth filled her chest. In the middle of the rain, the magic, and the soft chaos, she felt it clearly. This moment, silly and tender, was real happiness. The kind that stayed.
Inside the fort, the world grew smaller and softer. Pillows layered around them like clouds, and the enchanted canopy cast a gentle golden glow over their heads. With a quiet flick of her wand, Luna conjured a silver tray where three mugs of warm cocoa stirred themselves, cinnamon sticks circling slowly as sweet steam curled into the air.
Lysander nestled between them, cheeks flushed, eyes heavy but bright. He clutched his favorite stuffed puffskein in one arm and a biscuit smeared with chocolate in the other, crumbs dusting his fingers. Theo had a book balanced on his lap and was reading aloud in the most ridiculous voices he could manage. Each character sounded different. One was posh and overly dramatic, another low and gravelly, and Luna was certain half the lines were invented on the spot just to keep Lysander laughing.
And laugh he did. That deep, hiccupy laugh that came from a child who felt completely safe. His small body shook with it, head tipped back against Theo's arm, cocoa sloshing dangerously close to the rim of his mug.
Eventually, with his cheeks still pink from laughing, Lysander wriggled into the space between them and looked up, suddenly solemn. "Best day," he announced, his voice sure and final, as if he had uncovered a great truth and wanted it properly noted.
Theo looked at Luna, and for a moment neither of them spoke. She smiled, the kind of smile that held too much feeling to sort through, and brushed a curl back from Lysander's forehead.
Later, when the thunder faded into a distant murmur and the rain settled into a steady rhythm against the windows, Luna rested her head on Theo's shoulder. The fort glowed quietly around them, wrapped in a warmth that made the outside world feel very far away. Lysander had drifted to sleep, one small hand still resting on Luna's arm, his puffskein tucked beneath his chin.
She watched him for a long moment, fingers smoothing gently through his curls, and something inside her finally settled. No alarms. No sharp edges of grief. Just the quiet gift of now.
Without looking, she reached for Theo's hand and threaded her fingers through his. He said nothing. He simply turned his head and pressed a slow, grounding kiss to her temple. They stayed that way, unmoving, held together by warmth and quiet and the simple truth that, in this moment, they were safe.