Hi everyone I haven't posted any work here for a very long time, mostly due to not feeling I had anything very interesting to say. However tonight I was struck with a moment of inspiration and decided to write this tale. I have always been interested in writing stories that fall in the gaps left by the real Harry Potter books and this is, I guess you could say the missing story of Dean and Luna. I hope you enjoy it and that I'm not too rusty.

Chapter 1

Rocks had a strong and comforting feel, Luna Lovegood decided as her bare feet landed on the next large boulder on her way down to the beach. At once smooth and yet with many small cracks and bumps and veins for toes to wriggle into, for soft skin to mould to. They were so strong beneath you, nothing gave way, one knew where one stood with a rock by the sea, especially on a sunny May day when the midday heat has warmed the smooth surface, making it almost feel like a living creature beneath her. How unlike the last five months of her life. The dungeon at Malfoy manner was cold, and dead and life had been devoid of a firm foundation. Luna shivered, and not from cold. She shook herself, no use thinking about the past, its already been discovered, better to try and find the future. She jumped down to the next rock and then straightened up and saw Dean Thomas sitting on a lone rock near the shoreline, sketching, as he often did. She smiled. She had been trying to figure out Dean Thomas since they had both arrived at Shell Cottage. He had never been a close friend at Hogwarts, she had always thought that he had believed her to be something of an oddity. But over the last week they had been spending more and more time with each other. She had been trying to piece him together, what it was about him that she liked, what he felt like. And now she thought that maybe Dean Thomas was like a rock in the sun by the beach. Big and strong, comforting and easy going yet with facets and little complications, hidden pains from a year on the run. And warmth, a great warmth, especially in his hazelnut eyes. Yes, she decided, extremely pleased with her discovery, Dean Thomas is like a rock.

Dean let out a deep sigh as he sat looking out over the calm waters of the sea that surrounded their haven at Shell Cottage. There was not a wave to be seen and in the bright morning sun the water looked almost like a vast sheet of glass or crystal. He took out his favourite drawing pencil; god knows how he'd managed to keep hold of it throughout that crazy, horrible year on the run. It was enchanted so that it never ran out and never got blunt, a Christmas present from Seamus two years previous, something worth keeping close. Fleur had lent him a sketchpad of her own for him to use, it seemed odd to hold, something that had just five months earlier been the most natural thing to him now seemed alien. It belonged to a previous life, with Seamus and Hogwarts, before Snatchers, cold nights under stars, and torture. He started to sketch, thinking how out of place this moment was, a moment of utter peace when it seemed the whole world had turned upside down. Shell Cottage had become a bubble, an eye in the storm, it was great but he knew it could not last and that someday soon he would need to re-enter the pain and misery of the world outside.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of bright, golden yellow reflected in the sun. It was Luna Lovegood clambering down the rocks to the beach upon which he was seated. She seemed to be carrying some kind of long net. Dean smiled to himself, he loved how Luna was always searching for crazy unheard of magical creatures and phenomena, how Luna still seemed to have a wide eyed wonder about the world that most people seemed to lose by that age. It reminded Dean of how he'd been when, at the age of eleven, the wizarding world with all of its eccentricities and wonders had been opened up to him. He'd even joined her a few times but after a few hours they had failed to locate any Wrackspurts or Flibbins, Luna had been undaunted however explaining that actually this was the wrong time of year really for Flibbins and as for Wrackspurts, well they were supposed to be hard to find. If Dean was honest he didn't really believe that either really existed but he was willing to give Luna the benefit of the doubt. After all at the age of ten he would have laughed at the idea of being a wizard so who was he to say there weren't Crumple Horned Snorcacks out there somewhere. He turned his attention back to his drawing, he was quite happy with it, although he did think it was maybe missing something.

"You look very handsome sitting there on that rock" came Luna's voice from behind him.

Dean was slightly taken aback by this and was about to reply when Luna said

"You don't have to say you think I look beautiful, you'd only be saying it because of what I said. You wouldn't mean it, but it's nice that you were going to." Dean still wasn't quite used to her unusually forward way of talking. She gave Dean a friendly smile.

"I'm going fishing for Fresh Water Plimpies, want to join me?"

"I'm okay thanks, I'm halfway through a drawing…don't wanna lose my inspiration you know," he replied trying not to make it sound like he was refusing due to his considerable doubt that they would find Fresh Water Plimpies in the sea.

"Have fun, it looks good by the way, although I think your missing a focal point" Luna said with a smile before turning and walking into the water, the pale yellow dress she had borrowed from Fleur billowing out in the water. Dean returned his attention to his drawing.

"I think I just saw some!"

Dean looked up… he looked up and…there she was, only different, like he had never seen her before in his life… there she was. The sunlight bounced off her long golden yellow hair like it was glowing and made her pale yellow dress look like it was melting into the glassy water. Her white as paper skin shone as she looked back at him with a smile, raising her arms in triumph, she looked like a goddess walking out of the sea.

"Wow…" Dean said to himself, he'd found his focal point. Dragging his gaze away from Luna and began to draw.

Later that day he locked himself in the room he'd been sharing with Harry and Ron, cracked out some paints he'd found downstairs and set about committing to paper the vision he had encountered earlier that day. For two whole days he shut himself away, it was stuck in his head, dominating his mind, he needed to get it out, to see it again. Only at meal times did he venture out to interact with everyone else.

Wet grass had a mysterious feel, Luna decided as she stood next to Shell Cottage in the early morning sun. Luna loved the feel of wet grass between her toes, especially in the morning dew, she loved how it felt liked she was almost plugged into the ground, into nature. She curled her toes in the grass delighting in the cool feel of the water running between them. So slippery they were, no sooner would she grip one between two toes then it would slip away. She broke her ponderings on the peculiar feel of wet grass and looked towards the cottage, her home for the past week and a half, she cast her gaze up to the window of the room the boys had been staying in, its curtains were drawn, Dean had barely left it in the last three days. Shell Cottage was like a bubble, it was so safe and beautiful but at the same time a little stifling. Which, Luna decided was probably the reason why Dean had been avoiding her. She'd thought that maybe, just maybe Dean could have been someone to add to her friend list, the people who'd never steal and hide her stuff, she'd even thought of the perfect bit of ceiling on which to paint his face. She didn't understand why now he had suddenly removed himself from contact with her. It was like there budding friendship had just slipped away, it made her sad, a sadness that no amount of squelchy grass could distract her from. Maybe Dean wasn't like a rock, maybe he was more like wet grass.

To be continued…