wallflower garden | • l u n a

Diagon Alley was bustling. Dennis noticed quite a few people that he knew, and supposed that he should have predicted it; they were all going back to school in a few days, and Hogwarts was on a break for the month. Students needed new supplies, and were probably enjoying the last few days of freedom before returning to school. He shuddered at that thought. Dennis didn’t know how anyone who’d attended Hogwarts in the last decade could go back there thinking it was a safe place. He had a hard time accepting that he had to get back on the train and return to Hogwarts only days from now. It made his skin crawl.

The skinny teenager dug through his backpack, obviously looking for something as he leant up against a store window, hiding under the shop’s awning for shelter. It wasn’t quite raining, but there was a damp and relentless mizzle that had settled over London for the past couple of weeks that kept everything freezing cold and wet. Dennis pulled out his bottle of water and took a sip, scanning for the head of pale blonde hair he knew he should be seeing any moment now. She was late, he thought – not that it bothered him too much. Dennis tucked his water bottle back into his backpack. She hadn’t told him where they’d be going, just to meet him here. 

His face broke into a relieved lopsided grin when he saw her. He hadn’t seen Luna Lovegood for two years when he’d run into her in Diagon Alley a few days ago. Dennis wasn’t the best at reconnecting; he often found that figures from his past brought with them lingering memories and unwanted feelings of nostalgia. Dennis often felt trapped in his reveries enough without being forced to remember more, but Luna had a strange sort of presence about her that made him feel like she knew him, even though she’d never really been his friend. Dennis hugged her hello when she was close enough.

“How are you Luna?” Dennis withdrew a little, giving her a quick once-over. Her wild hair was sparkly with tiny raindrops. He didn’t remember being taller than her last time he’d seen her, but now he was by quite a bit. He wasn’t particularly tall now, but at fifteen he’d been exceptionally short for his age. By now he’d far outstripped both of his parents in height; an easy task, considering they were both very short people. He wondered what she thought of him now, considering that she hadn’t really known him then, either. Colin had never been a particularly observant person, but he had always spoken highly of the blonde; he’d said she was wonderful to be around, with the obvious caveat being that she was at least a little bit mad.

Dennis didn’t mind that sort of thing, though. He wasn’t dissuaded by the ramblings about creatures no one had ever seen or dangers that most witches and wizards laughed at. Luna – if she was anything like how he remembered her – was a good person. And that was all he needed. “I brought my camera,” he informed her, holding the thing up slightly before slipping it back into his new jacket pocket. Dennis had never been very comfortable with small talk, but with Luna, small talk just seemed to disappear and it’s its place was, well… this. Dennis gave her a sidelong glance as they started walking.

"Fee-fi-fo-fum," the words escaped her lips quietly, each syllable in line with a step of her foot. She continued stepping in rhythm with the rhyme, her words audible only to those passing her closely. "I smell the blood of an Englishman." They had a sing-song quality about them, as did most things that Luna Lovegood said. She was walking with heavy feet, aiming for the small puddles that littered the cobblestone street. The next puddle released a particularly large splash and the woman couldn't help but giggle. Rain was always an enjoyable experience, but the puddles left behind were even better.

"Be he alive," splash, splash, splash, "or be he dead," splash, splash, splash. Luna was speaking a little louder now and receiving more than the occasional judgmental glance, but she was rather unfazed by it. Ages ago she had forgotten where she was supposed to be meeting Dennis Creevey, but she knew that if she wandered around Diagon Alley enough, she would find him. She took a few more splashy steps without saying anything and unfortunately she didn't have enough walking left to finish her poem.

There he was. "You're warm," she commented as she returned his hug, merely stating the fact of the matter. She smiled at him, her dirigible plum earrings swinging as she looked up at him. Her hair was its usual look of "straggly bird's nest" which only helped pull off her complete look; her sweater had a large, colorful bird sewn on to it, real feathers adorning the tail. It was at least a step down from the sweater she was wearing when she had met Dennis the other day, which had brightly colored pom poms scattered everywhere.

He looked sad, but he had looked sad the other day as well. Luna had seen his camera - Collin's camera - and had had her brilliant idea for their outing. Being outside always made this particular woman happy so hopefully it would at least start Dennis on his way to getting to his happy place. "Oh, you know, I'm okay but I'm ready to be better." She was planning her next trip, an expedition to search for heliopaths in volcanos and her first stop was Italy and she was quite excited to find something.

"There's been an upswing in nargle activity lately here, did you know?" Silly question, because of course he knew. How could anyone not notice? But in case he was behind on the news since the Dome business, Luna was willing to fill him in. "They've been very busy in London especially, and Dad wanted me to write something about it and I thought that it would be nice to have photos to go along with it." She was talking about her father's magazine, The Quibbler, for which Luna was now a contributing writer for. And hopefully, Dennis would soon be a contributing photographer. She had seen Collin's photos before and knew that Dennis would be up to the task for this.

They meandered their way back down the alley, only stopping at the owl emporium. "Nargles love owl snacks," she stated, even though it was common knowledge. It took her no time to be in and out of the shop, quickly resuming their exit from the alley. "Have you been to London much? I'm not sure where we should go first."