Golden fields of oats and barley rolled past in an endless line as Harry listlessly stared out the window of the car. Field after field of ripened grain waving in the wind as the car sped past on an otherwise empty road. It was hypnotic almost; an endless sea of gold broken up only by the occasional dirt road turn off and the river of black asphalt dotted with yellow and white lane markings. Every now and again, there’d be a flash of dull silver or plain brown as the car cruised past a section of either fence or guardrail. But no matter how far they drove, Harry couldn’t see any sign of a road sign to tell them where they were, where they were going, or how much further it was to get anywhere (or even what would be there like gas, food, and overnight accommodations).

“Knut for your thoughts?” Luna asked, turning briefly to look at Harry.

Harry blinked, lethargy and apathy slowing down his thoughts. Everything was slow; each and every movement he tried to make was like trying to fight being drowned in molasses. 

“It’s not your fault you know.” Luna said. The pale sunlight of late afternoon flooded the car, softening the details of her body and adding an ethereal glow to her that, to Harry’s fuzzy brain, made her look like she wasn’t all there. Yet there she sat, just as he had remembered her; loose blonde hair, cork necklace, radish earrings. 

“I know I can’t save everyone.” Harry said with a scowl. Time and time again he’d done his best, but sometimes patients were in too bad a shape to survive, or they’d already been gone by the time help had finally arrived. Harry hadn’t been the one to hurt them - to kill them (sometimes it was no one’s fault; just fate and bad luck). But every life lost that passed through his hurt nevertheless.

Luna shook her head. “You weren’t the one who caused the accident. You were just there; like the rest of us.”

“There was an accident?” Harry asked, confused. “I need to go back and help.”

“You already are.” Luna softly pointed out.

Harry struggled to look around frantically. He and Luna were still in the car. Still driving through an endless sea of grain awaiting harvest. Still being bathed by the same late afternoon sun. Harry thought it strange, for a moment, that they hadn’t seen any traffic or passed any farmhouses. 

How long had they been driving now anyway. It felt like years but couldn’t have been. Surely if they’d been going for hours and hours they would’ve seen signs of other people, or actually gotten wherever it was they were trying to go (and where were they going anyway?). And the sun. The sun should’ve set by now, right?

A flash of sun brighter than the rest pulsed through the car’s window; the sun suddenly peeking through trees that weren’t there. For a moment Harry closed his eyes to the blinding brightness of it. When they opened again nothing had changed. He and Luna were still driving through the empty countryside in the late afternoon. The sun was still low and yet not close to setting. Waves of wind still blew through the ocean of wheat and barley and oats and grass and more plants than Harry could name but all looking the same; tall, slender golden yellow stalks with heavy heads of seeds.

Luna had the window down now, her right arm stuck out it as if she could run her hand across the grain as they passed. She was humming now. A haunting melody that was completely familiar and foreign all at once. Harry squinted. Maybe it was the way the light was hitting it, but the golden grain looked almost whitish. No longer the color of wheat ready to harvest but of bone grown old with age. Harry blinked with a frown. 

“It’s not time for the harvest.” Luna replied as if that was the most sensible explanation one could manage.

“But it looks ready...” Harry protested. While he might not know much when it came to gardening best practices - especially on an industrialized agricultural scale - he was fairly certain that Bad Things would happen if you left things linger unharvested for too long. 

Luna shook her head again. “It’s not time for the harvest.” she simply said again.

“When will I know?” Harry asked. Somewhere in the back of his head, he wondered if he was asking about the harvest or... something else.

“You just will.” Luna replied unhelpfully with a shrug. As if the answer was as clear to everyone else as it was to her. 

Harry turned away from Luna and pressed his head against the window. Moment after moment. Mile after mile. He sat in the car and watched the fields roll by in the late afternoon sun while Luna hummed. Quiet filled the car, stretching the moments out longer and longer. Little changed; Harry didn’t care. He was... tired. Long shifts dealing with ungrateful people who owed their lives to his care - or didn’t and he was at fault for not being God even if not even God could’ve helped. Some people were beyond saving. (A battle that never happened. His godfather falling through a veil that was never there. Madd laughter.). Some people shouldn’t be saved.

“Here.” Luna said, handing Harry a card. Harry took the card and looked at it. It was a tarot card based off of some cartoon-like show he’d never watched or even heard of depicting what he thought was the High Priestess (if he remembered things from Divination class correctly).

“You’re holding it upside down.” Luna said, turning it around for him.

Harry blinked down at the photo he was now holding the right way up. He smiled sadly as he looked at it; he, Ron, and Hermione appeared to be the center of focus as they sat by the cheery fire in the Gryffindor common room, surrounded by books (because of course they were revising - at Hermione’s insistence. OWLs were just around the corner - in a few months - after all) and their fellow Gryffindors (minus Collin since he was obviously the one taking the picture). In one slightly darkened corner, the twins and Lee Jordan sat off to one side, conspiring over one thing or another. Ginny sat off to the side with a couple of the other girls in her year while Neville, Dean, and Seamus were sat on one of the other couches caught up in their own schoolwork.

“I miss them.” Harry said plainly.

“I know.” Luna replied. 

“Look at them.” she said, continuing on. Harry turned his head over to where Luna was vaguely gesturing. A small murder of crows perched on a sinister and somewhat decrepit looking scarecrow silently and eerily watched their car go past in what seemed like slow motion despite the car not feeling any slower to Harry; heads turning as the car went passed.

Harry frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in deep thought as he watched the crows watch him. Something about that had been important; he just couldn’t place his metaphorical finger on what it was though. He chanced a glance at the empty road stretched out ahead. When he looked back there were no crows or scarecrow; even when he twisted around so that he was looking out the back window.

“Eyes front.” Luna reminded him gently. He turned right back around and kept his eyes on the road ahead at the rebuke. The late afternoon sun shone brightly, unobstructed by trees or clouds. Just them, the sun, the road, and an endless sea of amber grain; Harry squinted out at it, trying to see if maybe he could see if there was anything coming up that he needed to know about.

The glass of the window felt cool against his face. Luna’s quiet humming a bit of a balm to his soul. He could. He could easily fall asleep like this. A thought hit him then evaporated like it’d never been, and he bolted upright in alarm at it. “Where...”

Luna shook her head. Again. “Don’t worry. There’s still room in the back for a few more people.”

Harry turned to look in the back of the van, a sense of urgency eating at him. Draco had fallen asleep and had slumped over onto Professor Snape, who was trying to read a periodical with moderate success in the very back row. Ron was using his quirk to play a game of chess with Neville while Daphne - still a bit timid and scared but ever so slowly getting better - looked over Neville’s shoulder from where she was on his other side. Blaise sprawled indulgently across his row of seats, head bobbing to whatever music was playing through his headphones. Every now and again, one of his hands would make a sharp gesture; as if he was conducting an invisible symphony. In the front row, Percy was dividing his attention between looking out the window and something on his phone. Harry felt his brief panic ebb. His friends were all fine (or, in Daphne’s case, as fine as they could be. Given what she’d been through when they found her, it would be a long time indeed before she was truly fine; if she ever even got to that point) and just like Luna had said, there was even room for a few more people without having to overcrowd things and have people squish together or sit in each other’s laps. Feeling better now, he turned round to watch the countryside scroll past.

If he closed his eyes, Harry imagined that he could hear the wind rustling the grain as it blew. Like the sound of waves lapping at a shore. An endless sea of gold bordering the black river of road that cut through it. Miles upon miles of unchanging not much-ness; just grain and road and sun and car. Forever stretched out ahead of them. Eternity was laid out behind. Harry felt the listless lethargy and apathy pull at him. The window glass was cool despite the strength of the late afternoon sun against the side of his face when he rested his head back against it. His eyes drifted halfway shut as he watched the fields of barley and oats drift by as the car drove ever on.

“Sleep; I’ll let you know when we’re there.” Luna quietly said. She started humming again, that same haunting familiar yet not tune. Slowly Harry felt his eyes slid closed as he watched the waving fields of grain fly past and the car ate up yet even more miles of road.