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A summer wind blew across the field. Luna breathed in the sweet smell of flowers nearby; in the distance, she could hear ducks splashing in a lagoon. The area expanded as far as the eye could see, with comfortable country chairs set up and abundant grass. It was a peaceful place to visit, even though the person she most wanted to visit with had already left a while ago. It was just another step in a ritual of loss and grief.
She could still remember her last moments with him, replaying over and over again in her head. His mind had been lost first on that cold night before Father's Day. She would have liked to say that the last word she heard from her dad's lips was, "I love you," but it really was, "Daughter, do people who are as sick as I am die?" She, bearing a small and ignorant smile of what the future would bring them, had only answered, "No, Dad, everything will be fine." He'd been pleased with her response, closed his eyes, and said, "Fine, because I'm really afraid of dying," before falling into a restless sleep.
The next time he'd opened his eyes with a violent convulsion, she'd realized that nothing would be right again. His skinny and emaciated body, which had been fighting a gigantic battle for days, was giving up. His empty eyes had been full of tears, denoting a feeling that she would never know, telling her that she would never hear his voice again. Hours of convulsions, where Luna could see him fade a little more with each one, gave her the certainty that her life was about to collapse, and so it was. With his daughter by his side and a tear running down his cheek, Xenophilius Lovegood had left this world one morning on Father's Day.
Whilst most people around the world prepared to celebrate their fathers, she would have to prepare her father's funeral. All that came afterwards were vague and confusing moments, which defined a clear before and after in her life.
Luna felt a strong arm around her shoulders. Rolf had been there every step of the way, even enduring all the uncharacteristic bad moods she had constantly had in recent months; her father's illness had consumed her completely, taking out nuances of her personality that she had never experienced before. Her husband had always been there supporting her and helping take care of her father faithfully. She buried her head in his neck and breathed in his sweet smell; she just wanted to stay in his arms forever and forget the hell she was living.
Two children soon approached her to contribute in a hug full of love and pain. She looked down at their teary eyes; this was a loss she would never have wanted her boys to experience, but life was always like that. Everyone had to live the loss of a relative at some point. She had always known that this would happen; the thought of the loss of her father had invaded her constantly in recent months, and she had tried to make peace with the thought that human life was ephemeral. She could never really be prepared enough for something like this, though; a lot of Dementors could've flown overhead just then, and she would not have noticed the difference.
Lysander was sobbing against her chest. He had been his grandfather's number one fan, always willing to listen to the older man spout tales about some strange creature he knew. In turn, his grandfather had always had time for him. Xenophilius used to say, "I wish I had life and health to see the day you enter Hogwarts." There were still a few months before Lysander began his first year; she wished her father had managed to live long enough to see it.
Lorcan, on the other hand, had his chin against her shoulder. Xenophilius had been so proud of him; his eldest grandson was an exemplary student. He constantly reminded little Lysander to, "Listen to your brother, little one, he knows a lot."
She wished he could've seen them grow; each stage would now be lived with a feeling of nostalgia and perpetual absence.
Rolf shifted a little in the tight hug, causing everyone to stagger and break apart. They looked at each other's red and tortured eyes, holes evident in their broken and sad hearts.
"What do you need, love? Do you want a glass of water, or maybe a cup of tea?" Rolf asked, staring at his wife.
Luna shook her head and buried her nose again in his neck. Her body was numb, her teeth were chattering, and she felt a pain so deep in her chest that it became physical. She didn't need anything more than a shoulder to cry on.
Nothing would be the same, but looking at her family consumed by pain and loss, she managed to understand that although life was not forever, real love was eternal