Luna's Surprises

Harry dumped his duffel bag unceremoniously on the floor, his cloak following. A soft humming came from the room off the kitchen, Luna's special room that she used for whatever hobby she was pursuing that week.

"Luna," Harry called, knocking softly on the door. "Can I come in?"

The answer was sharp and uncharacteristic. "No!"

Harry took a step back. Patience was key with Luna, as explanations came slowly. He heard a tumultuous racket, a splash, and the sound of a soft curse. He fought hard to keep a smile off of his face, and he knew he lost when Luna stuck her tongue out at him when she slipped through the door.

"It's a surprise."

"Ah." Harry grinned, reaching out to pull her close. He loved her surprises, from the delicious experiments in the bedroom even to the time she brought home a rescued Niffler that turned their whole house upside down rooting for treasure. She thought that surprise was delightfully hysterical, and her happiness alone was enough to make him swift to forgive.

"What kind of surprise?" he asked. It was almost routine.

"If I told-"

"It wouldn't be a surprise-"

"Now would it?" she finished. Somehow she always kept a straight face through that, while he fought hard to fight his smile.

He kissed her on the forehead tenderly. "I hate to interrupt, but shouldn't you be packing?" And he really did hate to interrupt. She was leaving for Africa at an ungodly hour the next morning on a trip to find some...creature.

"Oh!" she jumped out of his arms. "I completely forgot." She dashed away to the bedroom, leaving Harry alone with the closed door, behind which lay his surprise. His fingers itched to turn the knob and take a peak.

He shuffled closer. No response from Luna. He licked his lips nervously. He'd never succeeded in ruining her surprises before. Somehow she'd always know the second before he managed, or she hid them so well he'd spend the whole day rummaging through the house. He reached out a hand…closed it around the knob….

"Harry."

"Damn." He turned, swept his eyes up and down Luna's thin and very, very naked body, and repeated himself. "Damn."

She smiled coyly, peaking her big silvery eyes up at him as she walked, no danced, closer. She was never afraid of prancing around naked, another happy surprise.

"Caught you," she breathed, her hand gently cupping an area that was quickly swelling. He said nothing back, there was nothing he could think of saying.

She tilted her head up to offer a spectacular view of her neck. "I think I need a proper goodbye."

Harry obliged with a very long, very enthusiastic good bye, all thoughts of his surprise gone.

Waking the next morning, feeling slightly sore yet very well rested, he rolled over to grope for Luna. His hand met cold cotton.

She was gone.

He sighed. Rubbed his eyes. Decided to get up for the day. He already missed her, as usual. Everything for the next month would remind him of her: the cold sheets, the unusual stillness, his lonely nights.

He reached for his glasses and felt parchment under his fingers. Sliding on his glasses, he picked up the letter. It was addressed to him in Luna's wispy handwriting.

Harry eagerly tore it open and pulled out the contents.

Harry,

Just so the Wrackspurts don't make you forget me.

Love,

Luna

It was a photograph. Even better, it was a magical photograph. Of Luna. Naked, and giving him a very enthusiastic solo performance.

He grinned. God, he loved Luna's surprises.

Now, to work on not forgetting...