Author: Sazmuffin

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Title: Standing Still

Rating: PG13

Ship: Ron/Luna

A/N: This is a medley of about five different Ron/Luna ideas. :P

-

Harry missed her while he was gone. She was a comfort, someone he could reach out to without having to worry about her opinion, since he knew she had heard things much more strange in her years. Luna was his lighthouse in a way both Ron and Hermione weren't - she provided advice that wasn't keen to his personality. She gave him closure. Luna truly was a great friend of his, no matter what her reputation was.

That was why he greeted her so warmly as he entered the familiar abode. Her bobbing head of bright sunflower hair was nothing more than a simple thing that tugged at his heartstrings. He felt nothing but friendship for the young witch - he had Ginny for that. Luna was simply someone he liked having around.

"Hello Luna," Harry said, grinning at her.

"Hiya, Harry," her voice was nothing short of serene. "It's wonderful to see you again."

"And you." His arms snaked around her small frame in a friendly embrace, her chin resting daintily on his wide shoulder.

Hermione too hugged her, but Ron stayed where he stood, giving her an awkward wave and nod of recognition. He stood with his hands shoved in his pockets as he stared at his large feet. Ron hoped to Merlin that his blush would retreat from his cheeks before she saw him once more. Something about Luna made his heart race. When he was younger, he thought it was fear of her until he realized it was something much deeper than that.

The war was over. The darkness had faded, soon replaced with a feeling of remorse and dread for the many funerals to come. Mrs. Weasley was a continuous wreck over Fred's passing - she didn't come out of her room for days at a time. George could barely contain his own pain, although no one expected anything less. Seeing George without Fred was like seeing a movie without sound; half of the package was gone.

Little Teddy Lupin had no idea what was going on and remained his chipper self. Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny took turns caring for him, telling him stories of his mother and father. Harry would sit in his nursery at all hours of the night, watching him sleep and listening to steady breathing and beating heart. Teddy was going to have a tough life; an orphaned Metamorphagai werechild.

The small battalion of Order members, Weasleys, and extended family members congregated in the Burrow at all times. Someone was always there to lean a shoulder.

It was a rarity for Ron to show the tiniest bit of emotion, so when he stood in the kitchen, standing in front of the open fridge with tears dashing down his cheeks, even Luna herself was shocked. She drifted over to him, gently placing her hand on his bicep. Ron nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Bloody hell, Luna!" his large, scarred hand gripped at his heart, the heart that suddenly began beating itself out of his chest the moment her blue orbs reached his.

"I'm sorry, Ronald, I didn't mean to startle you.." Luna's voice trailed off as he shrugged her away.

"You didn't startle me."

"You've been crying."

"I have not," he replied stubbornly.

"Ronald, Fred wouldn't - "

"Don't tell me what he would've wanted!" Ron snarled, violently slamming the fridge door closed. "You barely knew him. He was my brother!"

She visibly jumped at his actions as a look of fear befell her features. "He-He loved you, he loved all of you, you'll see him again - "

"What? When I die and go to heaven and meet the God that took my brother from me? The one that has reduced my mother to a human well and the one that has left George without his lifelong best mate? The one the orphaned Teddy?" Ron was yelling at the top of his lungs, her terrified face displayed before him. His tears returned, dripping onto his clothes and shoes.

His throat was burning as he sprinted out into the garden, falling to his knees in the soft, green grass. Slamming his head into the ground, he tore at his hair, screaming into the earth. Ron wasn't sure how long he was out there or how many gallons of tears he cried, but all he could think of was her expression of extreme terror as she listened to him scream at her. She must think I'm a monster, he thought to himself, punching the ground with his fist as he cried again.

But Luna went about her days as if it had never happened. For reasons unknown to him, this infuriated Ron. Why wasn't she mad at him? He found himself shrugging her away at every turn, scoffing at her comments during the day, putting her down at every possible chance. Ron and Harry went through row after row over her - he couldn't understand what Luna could've done to make him so angry.

Her willingness to forgive his actions was driving him crazy. Guilt plagued his mind constantly. Never succeeding to cease and desist, it stayed with him like a parasite in the following weeks. Luna spoke to him as she always did - her tone of voice light and airy with the same glide in her step. Ron could barely stand it.

One evening as Ron watched her knit silently on the old armchair, her legs folded under her in a catlike position so like Ginny that it seemed almost ironic. He sat on the couch across the room, reading the latest broom catalog; his gaze seemed to drift up to her nearly every three minutes, winding him so tight that he knew it wouldn't be long before he cracked.

"Ronald, hand me the turquoise yarn, please?" Luna asked, without looking up.

Ron threw his catalog to the floor and strode over to her, gripping the arms of the chair tightly. He looked down into her face as he asked, "Why aren't you mad at me?" His tone of voice was hard and angry, with a deep rumbling in his chest.

"Pardon?" she asked, nonchalantly.

Ron's ginger bangs fell into his eyes as he spoke again, his knuckles going white, "Why are you so.. all right with me? Why aren't you ignoring me, why didn't you slap me the second I came back into the house, WHY AREN'T YOU MAD AT ME?"

Luna looked slightly amused at his apparent guilt as she tried not to smile. "There's nothing to be mad about, Ronald."

"I screamed in your face, Luna! I must've scared the bloody hell out of you!"

"Oh, you did," she started, continuing with the same color yarn as he obviously was not going to retrieve the second color for her. "But I expected nothing less."

"What?"

"You've never been one to openly show your feelings, Ronald, especially about something as monumental as losing someone so close to you."

It took the ginger haired man a few moments to take in what she had said, to process it, and then to blow up once more. "Are you saying I bottle things up?"

"As a matter of fact, that's exactly what I'm saying."

At this point, Ron was actually speechless. He stood from his bent position, opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out how to respond.

Ron let out a frustrated groan and stormed from the living room, leaving a serene Luna on the armchair without her turquoise yarn. Keeping her demeanor around him was extraordinarily difficult; her voice threatened to waver and her hands visibly trembled whenever she was around him, today in particular. Being in such close quarters with Ron was something she never imagined would happen.

Things seemed to progress normally from then on. Ron and Luna barely spoke to each other to begin with, so when they stopped speaking altogether, it wasn't much of a difference. Ron continued to sulk around the house, glaring at her as he passed. Harry and Hermione had long since stopped trying to reason with him - he just wouldn't hear it.

The sun was rising behind her as she sat in the garden. The golden glow raked through her hair, bringing out every shade of blonde. The rays fell upon her angelic features, holding wisdom her peers knew not. She settled her petite frame on the small, stone bench nestled in between two daffodil bushes.

Luna looked around at the wildlife that congregated around her. Large walls of vegetation grew around her, wrapping her in a sort of maze. The spot she now inhabited was the best part of the entire garden. Explosions of color and the perfume of a thousand flowers enveloped her, as she lost herself in the moment.

A large, stumbling figure approached her small kingdom, filled with various plants and chirping insects. Her heartstrings pulled at the thought of her friends being crushed by his clumsiness.

Luna snapped abruptly, as if waking up from a deep sleep. "Ronald, don't squash the hopplekaufs!" she cried, reaching out to an invisible animal.

"The what?" he asked, scoffing.

"Hopplekaufs - distant relatives of Thestrals. You can only see them if you've sustained a life threatening injury. I should think Harry might see them soon," her serene tone nearly made him smile. Her voice something he had always liked; something he intended to keep private.

"You've sustained a life threatening injury, Luna?"

The young witch looked at him pleasantly. "Oh no, I haven't. But Daddy has - he says that they live in this vicinity of Ottery St. Catchpole. Who knows where they might be?" Her gaze traveled to meet his familiar blue eyes as a soft smile tugged at her lips.

Ron felt his temper return for no reason. Recently, just being around her made him angry. He was completely conscious of his actions; he honestly had no idea why he was so upset with her. Luna must've sensed his uncomfort, as she stood from her seat on the bench and walked towards him.

He did nothing but take her by her upper arms, gripping them tight as he stared down into her pretty face. She didn't know why she felt butterflies of epic proportions in her stomach or why her head swam as she looked back at him, gulping.

"Why won't you be mad at me?" he whispered, almost begging her for an answer.

"I could never be," Luna replied, her voice wavering.

Ron frantically searched her eyes, squeezing her arms as he did so. Chills raced down her spine as he continued; there was a look in his eyes. Recognition. The faintest smile befell his lips before they crashed down on her, his tongue immediately delving into her sweet mouth. Her arms felt magnetized as they wrapped around his back, hugging his body to hers. He stood six inches her senior, bending to reach her as she stood on her tip toes. Ron preyed down upon her savagely, taking what was his from the beginning. He knew he had always felt something for her, but could never place it.

He felt her hands on his chest, a catalyst to his animal-like attack on her. His passion for her was coming from him like a spilt drink; it just kept coming, it never ceased in quantity or intensity. Once he felt her touch, Ron relaxed completely, moving his hands south to lift her up off her feet. Luna held her arms around his neck, feeling tears of joy dripping onto her cheek and nose.

Something felt so completely different inside him as a different kind of battle of passions developed between the young lovers. Completeness, absence of fear and judgement, contentment. A feeling of safety and closeness that nearly everyone had lost from the passing of dear friends.

Ron let her down some time later, brushing her hair away from her beautiful face with his palm. Luna looked up at him, a tender look in her eyes as he stroked her forehead with his thumb. She held him tight, squeezing him against her with all the energy she had left. Ron bent low and kissed her head, his long, gangly arms reaching down to come together at the small of her back.

"Ready?" he whispered into her ear.

"Ready."

Ron took her hand, locking in his fingers in hers, and together they took the first steps toward the Burrow, toward moving on and growing up.