A/N: My friend Claire asked for a Harry/Luna fic, so here it is! Totally unbeta'ed, like everything I write!

Aaaand now she's playing "This Little Piggy" with my toes because I won't let her read till I'm finished.


Harry's POV:

Harry was dying, and he knew it. He had a particularly virulent strain of Dragonpox, and, although he was no longer contagious, he most likely had only a matter of months to live. So he decided to stop pretending that he and Ginny would ever work out, and move on with his life.

Apparently, this meant moving into Ron and Lavender's flat.

"Ron?" Harry sighed. He'd been trying to get his best friends attention for the past ten minutes, but Ron was rushing around, trying to get ready for his 1st anniversary with "Lav-Lav".

"Yeah, Harry?" Finally.

"I'm gonna go look for my own flat. It's not fair for me to mooch off you, when I could perfectly well go out and get one myself."

Ron looked up from the stew he was worriedly stirring, as if he was afraid it would behave like so many of his potions and explode in his face.

"Blimey, mate, are you sure? It's no problem, honestly. I enjoy the company!" The last part was said in a fervent whisper, causing Harry to chuckle.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I need my own place, and Lavender doesn't seem as happy as you to have me here, you know." Harry pushed his chair away from the counter he was sitting at, and stood up.

"I'll be back later, to get my stuff. I don't think I'll have too much trouble getting a flat, what with being the Chosen One and all."

Ron laughed, but suddenly looked worried, as the stew released a puff of steam at his face, and he returned to his ministrations.

"Later, mate!" he called as Harry walked out the door.


Harry wandered down Diagon Alley and wondered if this had been the best decision. He still hadn't told anyone except Hermione about the virulence of the Dragonpox. Everyone knew he'd been sick, it had been in the papers and all, but the Healers at St. Mungo's had managed to keep the strain's strength quiet, and as far as the press, and the rest of the world, knew, Harry Potter had recovered fully.

He thought Ginny may have guessed that something was wrong, though. She'd always been infuriatingly good at telling when he was keeping something from her, and she usually assumed he was cheating on her, instead of, for example, deciding to propose, which had not gone down well with her. That was when he'd collapsed, and been rushed to hospital.

He noticed Luna Lovegood floating towards him dreamily. He'd always harbored a sort of...fascination with the girl, ever since he met her in fifth year, and after graduating, the infatuation just kept growing. He had to admit, Luna had been one reason he had left Ginny. That and the fighting.

"Hey, Luna! Why're you here?" he called.

She slowly turned her head towards him, and smiled softly. "Hello Harry. I'm here looking for Wrackspurts."

Harry grinned to herself. Ah, the inevitable Wrackspurts. "What about the Snorkacks? I thought they were more common this time of year?"

Luna shook her head sagely. "They are, but this is also their breeding season, and they're much too dangerous to approach."

"Ok, well, I'll see you later!"

"Goodbye Harry. I hope you recover soon." She wandered down the street again.

What did she mean by that? According to the Prophet, I'm completely healed. Unless Hermione told her...

"Hey, Luna!" She turned. "Wanna grab a butterbeer?"

"Ok, Harry. But I have to be home soon. My father wants me to make Freshwater Plimpy Soup tonight."

He ran up to her and they walked into the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hello, Tom! Could we have two butterbeers?" asked Harry over the din in the pub. Tom nodded to show he'd heard, and Harry and Luna took their seats at a table.

"How've you been, Luna?"

"I have been well. Unlike you, Harry. You really should be in the hospital, you know. Just because it's incurable does not give you leave to be careless," she chided gently.

"What do you mean, Luna? Just because what's incurable?" he asked, trying to act natural, and failing miserably.

"Your Dragonpox."

"Did Hermione tell you?" Harry asked.

"No. I can tell, with people I care about," she stated simply.

Harry was silent for a moment, before suddenly, one of his many pox scars, began to burn.

"Ouch! That was weird," he added, after seeing Luna's worried expression,"It's ok, one of my pock marks suddenly burned. It's stopped already-OUCH! There it is again!"

Luna's normally dreamy expression quickly faded, replaced by one of fear.

"Harry, I think that I should take you to St. Mungo's now. Come on." She grabbed his arm and quickly lead him to the large Floo fireplace in the back of the pub. Stepping in, still holding Harry's arm, she said "St. Mungo's Hospital of Magical Maladies and Injuries!" and threw a handful of Floo powder into the flames.


Luna left Harry in a chair in the emergency room while she went to find a nurse. He felt as if each of his scars had had melted wax dripped onto them, and was simultaneously being frozen and having needles driven into them. His eyes also felt as if they were aflame, and his head was pounding.

When Luna led the nurse back to him, he attempted to stand, but collapsed in a heap at their feet. He heard the nurse calling for someone to levitate him into a room, before he blacked out.


Luna's POV:

As soon as the Healers had finished treating Harry, Luna ran into his room. Harry was lying on a bed, wrapped in white bandages.

"Harry! Are you ok?" she asked, noticing how different from her normal, airy self she sounded.

"I'm as well as I can be expected to be, Luna. I'm sorry that you had to take me here," he said hoarsely, then coughed.

"I've Flooed Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. Ginny wasn't there, but I left a message with Blaise. He said he'd tell her when she got back. Hermione should be here soon, and Ron said he'll be here as soon as Lavender lets him get away." There. She sounded a bit more normal that time.

"What was Zabini doing at Ginny's flat?" Harry asked, or at least she thought he did.

"He was eating cake."

"Was he? What kind?" asked Harry.

"Chocolate with red and gold icing, which I thought was slightly odd. Most Slytherins refuse to touch anything with Gryffendor colours on it... Perhaps cake does not count?" That sounded normal. Good.

"That-that-that, GIT!" cried Harry, before resuming his coughing. "I baked that for Ginny's birthday. I was gonna give her this..." He reached for his trousers, which were sitting on the bedside table. Luna handed them to him.

Harry reached into the pocket and pulled out a red jewelry box, the sort that is used to hold rings or necklaces. He opened it to reveal an elegant silver ring with two emeralds carved into leaf shapes set in it. The leaves framed a tiny wreath of enchanted apple blossoms, inside of which was a single miniature forget me not.

"I don't think Ginny would have appreciated the meanings behind the flowers. I bought this many years ago, and was waiting for the right time to give it to her. Now, it's too late."

Luna gasped at the ring, and at Harry's statement. "It's not too late, Harry! You can still tell her how you feel!"

Harry chuckled weakly. "If I did, I'd hardly give her the ring." He slowly sat up, then moved as if to get out of bed.

"Harry!" Luna began to reprimand him, but he waved her worries off.

"It's only for a second." He knelt on the floor in front of her, holding out the ring.

"I bought this ring many years ago, for a different person. I was a different person then, and so was she. Although this ring was originally destined for another, I hope you will do me the honour of accepting it, as well as my name. Luna Elizabeth Lovegood, will you make me a truly happy man and marry me, preferably within the next week?" He started coughing again, but shook off her offers of assistance.

"Are you going to give me an answer, Luna? Or will I have to pull out the pretend-to-die trick?"

"I shan't answer you till you have returned to bed. A Flurglenob might burrow into your knee if you stay on the floor." She tried to help him up, but even dying, he was too tall and heavy for her narrow frame to lift. He stood up himself, and got back into the bed.

"Now will you answer me?" he asked, looking rather like a pouty little boy.

"Ok, Harry., if you really want to." She looked down at her feet. She'd fancied Harry Potter, the dashing boy who was kind to her, since she was in fourth year, but she'd never expected him to notice her. Not with Ginny, who was Luna's best friend. You weren't supposed to be in love with your best friends boyfriend, Luna was relatively certain, and he was definitely not supposed to propose to you when he was dying.

"Well, I'm dying, Luna. It's time to be spontaneous!"

"How much longer do you have?" she asked quietly, dragging a chair over to his side.

He picked up her hand. "Maybe a month, maybe less."

"Ok," Luna said bravely. "Yes, Harry Potter, I shall marry you!


FIVE YEARS LATER

Luna Elizabeth Lovegood-Longbottom(nee Potter) stood in front of her first husbands grave. Neville's arm was wrapped carefully around her waist, and she was crying softly into his shoulder, while he gently rubbed her back and waited for her tears to cease.

Slowly, she stopped crying and waved her wand vaguely in the air, conjuring a violent violet handkerchief with parading neon green elephants on it out of the air and blew her nose on it. Waving her wand again, she produced a bouquet of forget me nots and apple blossoms, and placed it carefully on the grave, before she and Neville walked towards two small children, playing nearby.

"Harry! Alice! It's time to leave, dears!" called Neville, and the children raced towards their parents. The eldest, a boy, was the mirror image of his late father, with jet black hair, except for his eyes, which were silvery. His sister, who toddled after him adoringly, looked like her mother, but with Neville's green eyes.

Harry quickly ran back to the grave, and deposited a messy handful of weeds and grass and insects on the mound of earth.

Here Lies Harry James Potter

The Boy Who Lived

The Chosen One

A Dear Friend

A Loving Husband

1980-2002

Veterem amicum salutavit mortis

"I wish I could have met you, Daddy." The little boy walked back to his mother and stepfather, and they walked off towards a bus station.


A/N: MY FIRST ONESHOT! And it's with a pairing I've never really thought of much... I think Luna is probably very OOC, but I'm too like Hermione to effectively get inside Luna's head... :(

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CLAIRE! ALMIGHTY QUEEN OF WAPOI!