Summary: A one-shot that takes place in the last few chapters of the fifth book. Harry and Luna have a long conversation about Sirius' death.

Disclaimer: Now, do you think J.K. Rowling would write this?

He knew it was his fault, he just knew, so why was everyone so keen on denying it? What was the point? Why did they keep saying it was no one's fault, when he was clearly the reason Sirius was dead?

At this, Harry just couldn't continue with his train of thought, lest he break down. He was sitting by the trunk of an oak tree near the lake, gazing into the peaceful waters with a glazed expression. He came down here just after lunch, wanting nothing but to escape from fellow human beings, even his friends, Ron and Hermione, and also from the mixed feelings about his godfather's death.

Pain, at losing Sirius, the only living family he had left who truly cared for him, thus excluding the Dursleys.

Regret, that Sirius was in Azkaban, the wizard prison, for three quarters of his life, therefore not being able to know his godfather sooner.

Remorse, at his rash thinking that led him to go to the heart of the Ministry of Magic, which led to the battle that resulted in Sirius' death.

Anger, at a lot of people, including Dumbledore (though he had forgiven him a lot already), Kreacher, the elf that took part in the planning of the battle in the Hall of Prophecies (yes, apparently, "people" also includes crazy house-elves), the Death Eaters, especially Bellatrix Lestrange, the killer of Sirius Black, but mostly at Lord Voldemort, the cause of all this mess and war.

He was too busy sitting there wallowing in his misery to not notice someone calling his name some distance away.

"Hello there, Harry. Harry. Harry, can you hear me?" asked a dreamy voice.

Harry turned around.

"Luna? What're you doing here?" questioned a surprised Harry.

"Oh, nothing, I just thought I'd remind you that the feast's started already. But I took a long time finding you, so it's probably halfway through. Since it's the last day of school, you might want to pack your bags, or maybe find some lost belongings that were stolen?

"Anyway, I'm really sorry about your loss. You were quite close to Sirius Black, weren't you?" Luna continued in a genuinely sincere voice. (She seemed to have finally understood that Sirius wasn't the lead singer of the Hobgoblins, also known as Stubby Boardman.)

Luna didn't wait for Harry's reply and went on, "After a while, you'll learn to accept the fact that he's gone. Gone. Never receiving letters from him again, never seeing him again, never talking to him again," she took a deep breath, "never being in your life again. He's gone, Harry."

"And how would you know I'll accept it?" He choked, his voice breaking. "How?"

"I know because I did. My mother died when I was nine. Killed when a new spell she was inventing backfired. I was there. Bang! And she's gone. Just like that. At first, I didn't accept it; I didn't want to think that I can't see her again. I was young. But she never came back."

Harry had never seen Luna so serious before. She removed a tiny notebook from her pocket and flipped it open, "In her will there was something though. My mother wrote, and I quote, 'I want my dear Luna to understand that instead of mourning my death, which will come sooner or later, she should celebrate the life I led, and continue being the delightful Luna we all know her to be.'"

"You bring that with you every day?"

"Keeping my mother's last words with me wherever I go, it provides comfort." She suddenly smiled, "You should do it too! Maybe his last letter? Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that you should stop being sad. He had a somewhat happy life before dying."

"He was still young. And he was the only family I've got left!"

"I know. But how many people can say that they have been good friends with The Boy Who lived? And how many can say they escaped Azkaban without outside help? And becoming an Animagus is a feat not many can achieve. Do you think he'll be happier if he stayed at home, not able to help, knowing full well that his godson was fighting and may possibly die? Do you know how being helpless feels? Trust me, Harry, it's not at all a nice feeling. I was watching my mother die, but I couldn't help her, otherwise I would also be dead. And she wouldn't want me dead because of her. Just as Sirius wouldn't want you to be sad because of him. He'd want you to be happy.

"As for the being your only family left . . . we are your family, Harry. Me, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville and the whole Weasley family . . . we are your family. We care about you, we love you. And we want you to be happy."

Finally beginning to understand, he just nodded. "Anyway, Harry, the feast . . . it's probably ended already. So you just need to pack. And maybe organize your thoughts?"

"Yeah, I'll probably do that." Grinning at Luna, he said, "You know what? Thanks, Luna, you helped me feel a bit better. Even though I don't understand everything you said. Maybe that's why I'm not in Ravenclaw?"

"No Harry, you're not in Ravenclaw because you need me to tell you this instead of figuring it out yourself." She laughed cheerfully, skipping up the lawn towards Hogwarts Castle. "Wanna come?"

"Nah, I'd like to watch the sunset," yelled Harry to Luna's retreating back. He thought he heard Luna said, "I like the sunrise better, but still it's a good idea!" Overwhelmed by the amount of information from Luna, he leaned backwards on the grass, put his arms underneath his head, and slowly waited for the sun to disappear below the horizon. He had the whole summer to figure out what Luna meant. No need to rush.

Author's Note: This is my first fic, so, not the best. Reviews are very much appreciated!