SGL: Okay, set in the beginning of sixth year, I guess, but since none of us really knows how Ms. Rowling is planning on doing sixth year schedules, we're all just going to pretend... and this is my first posted Potterfic, but I've already done a bunch of anime stuff...
I never intended on using so much of OotP in this story, but it came out that way, it just would've been weird without it. And I've absolutely fallen in love with Luna! I really like strange people; in my experience, they've always got something to say, no matter what...
DISCLAIMER: Nope, sorry... the owner of Harry Potter is not within a couple thousand miles of where I am... and who the heck would pay money for this fanfiction?
- RUMOR -
Harry slumped his way into the Great Hall, looking too tired for the full night's worth of sleep Ron knew he had. Turning to whisper to Hermione, who was reading her new Transfiguration book while aimlessly stuffing toast into her mouth, Ron nudged her ankle with his foot, and leaned towards her, hand cupped over his whispers to ensure that the approaching Harry would not hear. Hermione nodded through everything he said, and then returned to reading her book as Ron waved cheerily up at his best friend.
"Good Mor-"
"You know it's not." Harry interrupted quietly. "A good morning, I mean."
Ron shut his open mouth and nodded, but Hermione just sighed and finally closed her book. "You know, you shouldn't pay attention to what other people say."
Harry threw a very weak 'I'm annoyed' look at her, which she ignored - she had too much practice in doing so. Instead, she handed him a piece of parchment. "It's your schedule. We've only a few classes together, but other than that, I've got more N.E.W.T. classes than either of you two."
"It's not our fault you're smart." Ron mumbled into his bacon. Harry silently thought so, too, and the three of them fell into a weary silence that was very alien to everyone who knew them. Harry couldn't help but wonder if this was how they'd spend the rest of the year... in a forced hush that none of them wanted, but felt obligated to keep because... because of, well... what had happened the year before. It was as if Ron and Hermione wanted to talk, but knew better than to start a real conversation, and Harry wanted to talk, but didn't trust himself to keep his temper in check. He'd figured that he should to try and break his little habit of taking his anger out on others, but didn't bet on actually carrying it out, and didn't want his best friends to end up as the guinea pigs of his failing emotional experiment.
And after thinking of all of this, Harry found himself resisting the strong urge to bang his head against the breakfast table, when suddenly from behind him, he heard some annoyingly familiar snickers. Oh, screw it. He thought. Thunk!
When he looked up again, he saw Ron making a very confused face, which, for some reason, made Harry want to truly smile for the first time for three months. But it was Hermione's look that made him want to blow a hole in the middle of the floor with his wand, throw himself in it, and hope nobody noticed. There was pity on her face. Pity. Harry couldn't stand it. The only look that was offered to him from his friends all summer was pity, and he was trying very hard to forget it. He had realized that it made him want to throw up when he'd been rummaging in his trunk at the Burrow over the summer. No one had wanted him to go back to Grimmauld Place, not that Harry thought he would've gone anyway, even though he knew he would... someday. But, when he opened one of his books to do his summer homework with Hermione and Ron, a piece of parchment fell out of it. It had been a note from Sirius, a long one, from a while ago. They'd had fixed him with those pity looks when they caught him staring at it, and Harry felt his stomach twist into little bows and figure eights. Seeing his discomfort, Hermione had suggested he throw it away, into the fire, as not to stir bad memories. Harry had half-heartedly told her he would, just to avoid another argument that he felt would've taken way too much energy. The note was still clamped between the pages of his Chuddley Cannons Quidditch book.
Just then, Harry was broken off from his memories as he blinked up at the now tumultuous laughter that resounded through the Hall, as someone had just entered. It was Luna Lovegood, who, as usual, floated dreamily over to the Ravenclaw table, giving Harry a dazed smile as she passed by. He turned away quickly. He thought she should've been showing signs of acknowledging the rumors. Harry sure was. Ever since he first stepped onto the train, whispers from the strangest people had been carrying towards him, weird little stories about how Harry and Loony were now involved.
Hermione had been shockingly appalled by the rumors and sought to quickly stomp them out, which only made them fly faster to most students of the school by the time they reached the station at Hogsmeade. Harry was slightly annoyed, but Hermione had been near on the point of hysterical outrage.
While they had started to pile into the school carriages, Hermione cried out, "Why on earth would Harry-"
She had been cut off by Ron's hand thrown unexpectedly and hastily over her mouth, as Luna had been walking past them to reach the thestral-drawn carriages. Harry simply shook his head, walking over to give their thestral a pat on the head, just in case it was the one he'd ridden before the summer.
Now, in the Great Hall, Harry sighed and stood up, trying very hard not to notice the murmuring following him, and the cackles that rose from the Slytherins' table. He'd gotten out the doors and onto the marble staircase by the time that he heard a voice calling for him.
"Harry!" Turning around, he blinked at his caller, Luna, who'd run halfway up the stairs to get to him. He couldn't help but smile slightly; she was wearing a new necklace, with very irregular-shaped clear beads that glowed with a ghostly iridescence and floated an inch or so above her shoulders horizontally, like a jeweled halo that sunk because it was too big for her head. Harry had half the mind to ask her what the necklace was meant to do, if it even did anything, if it weren't guaranteed to keep him standing up for so long. He didn't feel much like being on his feet for extended periods of time.
"Hi Luna." He said wearily.
"Hi Harry." She replied dreamily.
They stood staring like that for several moments, Harry starting to get agitated. Luna simply stood there, unfazed by his stare, playing absent-mindedly with her necklace, pushing it so it spun like a hovering hula hoop.
"Um," he began. "Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?"
Luna looked at him as if she hadn't noticed he was there before, but then smiled again. "Oh yes, Harry. I wanted to know when you were going to take me out."
Harry stared, no longer questioning her sanity, but completely sure she'd lost it. "Um... what?"
Luna continued in her very calm, distant little voice. "I know you're shy Harry, Cho told me, but everyone knows about us now."
"What 'us'?" Harry was wondering why he wasn't angrier... but figured that part of him simply found this too funny.
Luna turned, starting to go back down the stairs, probably back to the Great Hall. "We might as well get on with it. The first Hogsmeade trip is next week; I'll meet you in the Three Broomsticks."
She disappeared into the double doors, and Harry, feeling very much like he'd probably hallucinated the whole thing, and started back up the stairs to the Transfiguration room.
...The next weekend...
Harry and Ron stepped into the Three Broomsticks, each carrying a bag from Scrivenshaft's store... Crookshanks had been on the prowl two nights before, and had been itching to go for a midnight hunt. Not finding any satisfactory mice or birds, he'd attacked Harry's and Ron's bundle of quills in the common room. All that was left was a couple of stringy looking sticks that would only leak ink in the general form of word, but a certain teacher (Snape), of course, had not accepted it.
As Ron went off in search of butterbeers, Harry scanned the crowded room for a table, finding only one table that had an extra seat, where Luna sat staring dreamily at an open copy of The Quibbler. He started to walk over when he suddenly remembered that she'd planned for them to meet there... as a date. Spinning around quickly, he tried to get out as fast a possible, catching Ron by the arm as he headed towards the door.
"Come on," he mumbled, as quietly as he could. "Let's go find Hermione. She must be done sending her letter by now."
"Harry! Over here!" Harry froze, and then sighed deeply and shook his head as he turned again and started walking towards Luna, never releasing Ron.
Ron stumbled around, trying to look at who Harry was walking to, despite being dragged backwards to them. His eyes finally fell on Luna, who was waving at them, and starting to stow her magazine away. Finally grasping what Harry was about to haul him off to, Ron broke free from his best friend's oddly iron grip and scrambled out of the bar, with only a backwards snicker, and a "Good luck on your date!"
Harry sighed and slouched over to the table, acutely aware that everyone within range of Ron's comment was watching, and only feeling weird about the fact that he didn't care what they thought. This seemed to give him the tiniest bit of drive to sit down, but blinked a bit at the realization that his smile was genuine, and he didn't have trouble at all asking her, "So, how are the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks?" and was especially surprised at himself when he found he wanted to know what the answer was.
...A couple of weeks later...
Harry was on his way to his Advanced Potions class (which he only got into by a miracle on his O.W.L.s, Snape wasn't very happy about it) when he was stopped in the hallway by a gold object about the width of a dinner plate that was thrust into his chest. Behind it was his 'girlfriend'.
"Luna?" Harry stuttered out, focusing on the object. It was a ball, with immobile silver wings spread out wide on either side of it. A... snitch? But it was huge!
She gave a very calm, almost bored smile. "Hello Harry."
"What is this for?" He thought that maybe 'What the heck is this freakish thing doing in my arms?' was much too blunt.
"It's a model snitch, Harry. I thought you might like it. It's a present for our two week anniversary." Luna smiled again, and started to walk past him, but just when Harry thought it was safe, he found that she had only stepped next to him, stood up on the tips of her toes, and given him a kiss on the cheek before dreamily floating off again. Harry stood stunned in the hallway that was so full of people staring at him, some giggling. He didn't move for a second, but then it registered to his brain that he would be late for Potions. He started down the hallway, down the steps, and into the line of students outside the classroom, still staring at the giant snitch. Hermione, who unsurprisingly qualified for the class, stared down at it too.
"It's from Luna. Apparently, it's our anniversary." Harry smiled weakly at this strange cosmic joke. Hermione only gaped.
"So you ARE going out with her?" She almost cried out. This caught Malfoy's attention, and he, too, was a 'satisfactory' student, obviously, able to pay for the tutoring (and bribery) of a professional potions maker. He leered at it and started to laugh.
"What, Potter, having problems catching a real sized snitch?" He mocked. Harry couldn't bring himself to say anything back. It wasn't as if it really mattered to him what Draco Malfoy said anymore. Harry knew for a fact that the Ministry was making undercover inquiries at the Malfoy Manor. Apparently, a certain, secret chamber had been searched, with success... a certain chamber under a drawing room floor.
It was Hermione who snapped back, scathingly, "As if you should be talking, it's not like you've ever beaten him."
Malfoy's eyes grew even colder, but he shut up immediately, there was no way for him to reply to that one. Harry gave Hermione a grateful smile, but it was not returned. She instead grabbed his arm and pulled him to the back of the line, where no Slytherins would overhear.
"Harry," Hermione gave him a condescending look. "Why didn't you tell me about you and Luna? And all this time, Ron's been insisting that you two had a date - do you understand how painful it's going to be for me to admit that he was actually right?"
"Well," Harry began. "It's not as if I really thought... I mean, it's like this... she sort of..." Harry couldn't put it into words that didn't make anyone sound stupid, so he settled for the whole truth. "You see, I didn't know Luna thought of us as a couple, I didn't even get her a present."
Harry offered Hermione a sheepish smile, to which she replied with a scoff and a very pronounced, "Men..." under her breath. "Harry, how could you not know you were involved with a girl? I thought Ron was daft, but this just put you at the top."
"Well, what do I do now?" Harry started to stuff the model snitch into his bag.
Hermione raised one eyebrow, but when he didn't say anything, she raised the other. "You really don't know what to do!"
"Well, why would I ask?" Harry swung his book bag over his shoulders again.
She sighed and shook her head. "Really, Harry, all you have to do is break up with her - and as soon as possible! You'll see her today at dinner, perfect time."
"Today? But it's our anniversary!" He looked at Hermione as if she were very slow. She started to scowl.
"You technically never started to go out! Dating is two-sided, you know!"
"Is it, now?" Harry gave her a wry smile.
"Listen, if you don't want to break it off with her, then just keep dating! It'll be an entertaining distraction to having to listen to Ron's Quidditch Cup ramblings." Hermione snapped and stomped into the Potions classroom, whose door was now open.
Harry shook his head. It wasn't as if Luna was horrible or anything, as Hermione's constant scoffs through their newest concoctions suggested. He just never considered it before. Luna Lovegood, of all people... the girl who believed the impossible and unexpected... it was very ironic.
It was actually the bell to leave that finally snapped Harry from stirring his cauldron for the umpteenth time. The liquid was beginning to froth. He hastily sloshed some of the potion into a flask, labeled it with the name that Snape so loathed, and shoved it into the mass of bottles on the Potion Master's desk. He then caught sight of Hermione's slightly expansive hair in the hallway, and hurried up to her on their way to lunch.
...Another couple of weeks later...
Harry hurtled down the hallway with Ron in tow, skidding around the corner and nearly slamming into a furry wall... no wait, make that nearly slamming into Hagrid with his moleskin coat. The half-giant man waved, but Harry merely nodded and continued at his Mach 3 speed, wishing desperately that he could've ridden his Firebolt to the class he was about to be late to. He heard Ron calling "Hi! Bye!" to Hagrid behind him, but he still didn't halt. They ran though the corridors, finally seeing a large crowd of chattering students coming in their direction, from the Great Hall, from breakfast that Harry and Ron had apparently just missed. Harry finally slowed to a stop outside of a crowded doorway, and slumped against the wall for support while he took in big, deep breaths. They just made it, they weren't late...
"Ron! Harry!" Exclaimed Hermione, who had been in the midst of the breakfast crowd. "Where were you?"
"Sleeping." Ron panted factually, following Harry into their Charms classroom. Hermione tutted, once again, and entered after them. They settled into their usual seats and Harry reached into his bag to pull out his book, but halted as his hand settled over a scrap of strangely rough parchment. He pulled it out and pressed the wrinkles as flat as he could, starting to read.
'Dear Harry,
Please meet me at the edge of the lake, under the old beech tree at sunset, right after dinner.
With love,
Luna'
Harry's eyes widened and he read the closing over and over and over again... 'With love'... Glancing up, to make sure he was truly still grounded in reality, he saw Ron taking notes from newly commenced Flitwick's lecture, and Hermione not paying attention at all, but curiously trying to look down at Harry's note.
'Okay, we're truly doomed.' He thought, watching Ron's rapt interest.
...That night...
Harry felt like he was floating in a world of fast moving colors and sounds that he felt so disconnected to. As he walked out of the Great Hall, and out of the front doors, onto the grounds and towards the lake, Harry felt like he was both hovering through the air, more graceful than he had over been, and like he was about to trip on his own two feet. As he neared the beech tree by the lake, with the honey and rust colors of the sunset settling over his eyes, he was reminded of the memory he'd once intruded upon... Snape's memory... and as much as Harry didn't want to think about it, he could envision Sirius' bored and handsome teenage face, smiling at James and Remus and even Wormtail...
He looked up, trying not to fall into the nightmares that he knew he'd never forget, trying not to see what was forever burned into the back of his eyelids... and instead, his eyes fell upon a small figure... dainty and thin, with long hair that blazed a ruddy gold in the sunset. She was leaning on the thin trunk of the tree, staring at the lake, her robes swaying in the last warm breeze of the fading summer. Harry stood stock-still and stunned. Was that Luna?
She turned. 'Probably noticed that pounding sound... or it that just in my ears?' Harry was very aware of the red in his face, and hoped she wouldn't notice... or that the sunlight would cover it up or something...
"Harry? What are you doing just standing there? Come over here." Luna beckoned to him and sat down where she'd been standing. Harry approached, lump in his throat, and nervously settled into the cool grass.
"Hi Luna." He said, not really knowing what he should try to say.
"Harry," She said dreamily, not even looking at him, but at the pink and purple clouds falling on the horizon, "I've been thinking about… us."
"What about us?"
"Well, I'm not sure that it's really your fault, but you seem very preoccupied all the time." She was still squinting at the clouds. "I'm not sure you even know what today is."
"What is it?" Harry wasn't sure he wanted her to tell him. He wanted to know, but he didn't want to get it from her.
"Today's our one-month anniversary." She finally turned to him, a vaguely calm smile on her face. Harry felt his face heat up again. He wasn't very experienced with girls, but he knew that something like that was not supposed to be forgotten.
He started to stutter out. "I-I... I don't know...exactly what to say... other than sorry, I mean..."
Luna started to smile, her very wide eyes turned to his green ones. "I don't really care about that stuff, anniversaries and presnts... I only gave you the model snitch because I though it was funny." She shrugged. "I just thought you'd put more effort into this... We rarely ever see each other."
"What are you trying to say?" Harry mumbled slowly, his hands starting to fidget.
Luna looked back at the sunset over the shimmering lake. "I'm saying that you've got a lot on your mind. I understand that. And I'm saying that maybe you need some time to get it all sorted out. And when that happens... we can start going out again."
Harry's fingers froze, still knotted together. He watched as Luna stood up and, after a final glance at the horizon, finally gazed back at him. Her smile was gone as she bent forward and planted a small kiss on his slightly shocked-open mouth, and ambled slowly back to the front steps.
Harry watched her leave and stared back in her direction until the sun set and the grounds and sky darkened to a smoky purple. He finally moved, only to lean himself against the tree and watch the lights reflected in the lake from the castle. He was stunned for one reason only. It wasn't that she broken it off with him. He felt she probably should've done it earlier. It didn't take a genius to tell Harry he wasn't the most doting person. He was only shocked because it... actually made him feel... sad? Depressed? Harry couldn't think of the right word, but it was weird. He actually felt bad about mistreating Luna… and even worse that he'd just been dumped.
After several more minutes of trying to decipher his strange sentiments, he only came up with one conclusion. Well, two. First, thinking about girls hurt his head too much. Second, he should just ask Hermione.
***
The portrait to Gryffindor Tower creaked open in front of Harry. He wanted to find Hermione quickly, and he expected that it would be a difficult job, since it was just after dinner. He had anticipated the common room to be crowded and noisy. He was only partly right. It was noisy all right, but it was completely devoid of students - except for two people. Harry watched, unseen, from one corner of the room as Ron and Hermione had another explosive argument - well, make that an all-out battle. They were actually charming Gobstones to fly at each other like miniature bullets as they yelled, but as every Gobstone neared its target, it was blasted to smithereens by the opposing wand.
So, that explains why the common room's empty. All of the Gryffindors knew better than to get involved in a fight between the two prefects, and had probably magically locked themselves into their bedrooms, probably curled in corners and under beds, waiting for the moment the shouting stopped. Harry had almost forgotten about his questions for Hermione, and instead tried to sneak his way around the conflict that was taking up most of the space in the room. He knew that the safest place right now was probably in his nice, warm bed, behind his drapes. But as he tried to slip towards the stairs, a book suddenly went speeding at his head. Panicking, thinking he'd been seen (and therefore, he would've be dragged into the row) he dove behind the couch. After several seconds curling up in fear, and of no change or halt in the fight, Harry looked over the cushion cautiously. Apparently, the flying book was only a by-product of Ron's very shot aim. He continued to peer over the couch arms, waiting for the chance to leave, but he had no idea how long they'd been going at it, and so, how much longer it would last. I might be here for a while.
With nothing left to do, he sat and he listened, trying to figure out what happened this time...
"You are the most insensitive prat-" Hermione spat with fire in her eyes.
Ron was mid-way through countering her last statement. "-always such a bossy know-it-all!"
"Why can't you ever-"
"You're always bugging me-"
"-thinking you're SO important!"
"-never bothering to, maybe, listen to me!"
"Why can't you ever think to - pshh! Gah! Urgh, you stupid git!" Hermione growled, wiping at her face with her sleeve, as Ron had just exploded a Gobstone in her face, so that the sticky liquid that it had been charmed to shoot out flew into her face.
"Don't you call me - OUCH!" Ron raised his hands up after Hermione swung her wand out, and a stone pelted him across the face with such force that it left a mark on his cheekbone.
"YOU HALF-WITTED-"
"-ANNOYING HAG-"
As they continued to shout, they started taking steps towards each other, so that the Gobstones now whirred in furious rings around them. They were starting to get too close to really do anything with force. And Harry noted that as they got closer, their voices got even louder.
"LEAVE-"
"-ME-"
"-ALONE!" They shouted at the same time. Their faces were only a few inches apart as they glared so hard that Harry half expected them to burn each other's eyes out. He couldn't just sit there anymore. They were going to kill each other. Harry stood up quickly, but as he was still unnoticed, he cleared his throat and opened his mouth to tell them to shut up.
But right then, something happened... something that Harry had never expected to occur in front of his eyes as long as the sun burned and the earth moved... something that caused his words to die in his throat and freeze into a snowball-sized lump in his windpipe...
Ron and Hermione kissed.
Or started to kiss was the better way to put it, as they didn't stop after just a second. Harry just stood there, not ten feet away, his jaw hanging open and his eyes somewhat unfocused at the image of his two best friends - who'd been trying to maim each other just seconds before - kissing. Harry didn't move for a couple of minutes and all the while, neither of them stopped. In fact, Ron had wrapped his arms around Hermione, and she had her fingers dug into his hair.
Harry felt that if he didn't stir - didn't do something, anything - he was going to lose his mind right there. But he couldn't move; he couldn't speak coherently through his open lockjaw. So he did the only logical thing he could think of. He screamed. But, as the lump in his throat hadn't melted, it came out only as a strangled, gurgling type of noise.
But it was enough. Hermione wrenched herself away from Ron's grip and, for plenty of agonizing moments to be embarrassed about for years to come, the three of them just stared at each other.
It was Ron who finally spoke.
"Harry." He croaked in a weak voice. "How... we..." He looked to Hermione, who was very red, and for once, didn't seem to know what to say. She merely quivered, staring not at Harry, but at Ron, and she bit her lip.
"I..." She whispered. "Ron..."
Harry suddenly realized that he hadn't been breathing. The room was starting to get very hot, and very close. He suddenly took in a great gulp of breath and swooned, oxygen had filled his collapsed lungs much too quickly... the whole room spun... and darkened... he fell.
***
Oh, my head...
"...hit the corner of the table." Harry's eyes opened when he heard someone finish for him, he didn't realize he'd said that last thought out loud. But his vision was blurred, images and fuzzy faces spun into view. A pair of hands holding something frail-looking and thin neared him, and he felt someone push his glasses on.
"What happened?" He never knew that trying to speak would be so difficult. Looking up, he saw beds all around him, and cupboards and drapes... the hospital wing? Ron and Hermione were sitting on opposite sides of Harry's bed, looking very nervous and tired.
"Well, Harry, you... fainted." Hermione half-whispered.
"Why would I...?" Harry thought back to the last thing he could remember... the lake with Luna... the common room... the fight with Gobstones... the kiss!
"You..." Harry slowly looked up. "You two..." His two best friends grew the most interesting shade of red and didn't dare look at each other. They all just sat there in silence for a moment, none of them really sure what to say or do. Harry was trying very hard to make sense of this awkward state of affairs. But, in the back of his mind, he wondered why he'd never thought of it before... Ron and Hermione... Hermione and Ron...
Harry couldn't help it. In spite of his massive headache, he started to laugh... and laugh, and laugh. He laughed until tears started to leak out of the corners of his eyes, and his stomach ached. His laughter sounded quite maniacal, even to his own ears, but he just laughed to dead silence for several moments more, until Ron started to smile in a very suppressed way, and Hermione began to giggle.
Laughing seemed to chip away at whatever silent walls had been erected between them. They all couldn't help but realize that, though life had changed, and the situations were going to be very different from now on, the friendship itself seemed to go back to the way it used to be: simple, confiding, true...
...Over the next several weeks...
Harry, Ron, and Hermione took catching up very slowly... they didn't want to screw it up. Harry tried very hard to at least not look depressed, and instead, focused all his energies on trying to get Ron and Hermione together. See, the two of them were very good at ignoring each other, and try as Harry might, they refused to really make anything of the fact that they had kissed... really kissed.
So, it was a briskly chilly morning in mid-November when Harry was to be found coming out of the Owlery, after having just sent an order to a Magical Flower Shoppe for a dozen enchanted roses to be sent to Hermione, from 'Ron'. Harry was faintly half-whistling (or trying to, he never really got the hang of whistling), and half-humming 'Weasley is Our King' as he rounded the corner of the stairwell, and came down a wide corridor that held the stone gargoyle of Dumbledore's office. He smiled at the currently immobile sentry of the Headmaster, and kept walking, until he saw a familiar figure coming towards him... Lupin?
"Hello, Harry!" Greeted a cheery, yet worn as ever Lupin. His patchy robes swayed around his feet as he lifted a large box filled with what seemed to be a whole load of parchment, every scrap of it written on.
"Hello, Professor Lupin." Harry grinned. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh," Lupin shrugged at the box. "I'm making a delivery of certain... notes for the... er, birdies." He winked. 'Birdies' meant 'Order of the Phoenix', probably.
Harry nodded. "Do you want me to help you with that, Professor? It looks really heavy."
"I'll be fine, but thank you." Lupin simply smiled for a moment, as if contemplating what he should say next. "Say, Harry? Would you mind granting me a simple request?"
"Sure thing." Harry tilted his head curiously.
Lupin said slowly, "Call me Remus, or even Moony. I'm not your professor anymore."
Harry stared, blinking at him. "Er - sure, but, sir... I mean, Remus?"
Lupin simply chuckled and set the box down on the ground. He reached into his pockets, digging for something, and pulling out at last, a rumpled parchment envelope, looking very much like it had been sealed very hastily.
"Here." Lupin held it out to him, looking like he was holding his breath. "It's something Sirius wanted to tell you... before. Never really got the chance."
Harry gaped at it, dumbfounded. He took it with a shaking hand, and glanced up at Remus, for a moment, catching a glint of sorrow in his eyes, but in a flash, it was all normal again. Remus sighed and pulled out his wand, pointing it at the box, and deciding to levitate it the rest of the way to Dumbledore's office.
"Have a nice day, Harry. I'll see you." He waved.
"Bye Prof- er, Moony." Harry turned and walked calmly to the end of the hall, turned the corner, and then ran flat out for Gryffindor Tower. The only thing on his mind was the note. Scampering towards the Fat Lady at the end of the hall, Harry cried the password out and leapt in the hole, crossing the room and scrambling up the stairs. He wrenched open his dorm room door to find it, thankfully, empty. Jumping onto his bed, he threw the hangings closed and ripped open the envelope, breathless. Out fell, not a note, as he expected, but an old wizarding photograph. Written on the back, 'Hope the Dursleys haven't raised you homophobic. - Sirius'
Harry was thoroughly confused until he flipped over the photo, and then he nearly fell off the bed.
It was a moving picture of Sirius and Remus at Grimmauld Place, and they were draped over the couch, sleeping on each other. It was quite an innocent picture; really, Harry would've guessed nothing from it, had he not read the caption on the back. He stared blankly at the snoozing figures, Sirius letting a particularly loud snore, and Remus twitching his sleepy nose when Sirius' hair flew up to tickle it.
Well... you learn something new everyday... Harry sighed, and then chuckled, reaching over to his bedside table and pulling out his old photo album, the one with his parents' pictures. He flipped towards the back where he found a picture he rarely ever looked at, one of a grown Wormtail sitting on a swing being magically pushed by a bored-looking James with his wand out. Harry pulled the picture away from its slot, and ripped it cleanly in half, clamping James' side between the front page and the cover, and then 'incendio'-ed Wormtail's part without batting an eyelash. Picking up his new picture, he smiled at it for a moment, thinking that however strange it seemed to him, he really wasn't one to judge their relationship. His own love life was at a very humiliating stand-still. Harry took one last look at the dozing couple, and pressed the photo into the recently emptied slot, and closed the book.
...That afternoon...
Harry chewed his food slowly, half-listening to Ron's and Hermione's new 'debate'... He supposed it was 'only natural husbands and wives fought', and he told them this... they didn't like that very much. But very suddenly, their glares were interrupted, as a large barn owl swooped down towards their table. Clutched in its talons was a bouquet of roses, all different colors and shapes, from pale yellow buds to full-bloomed purples and thorny whites, all of them casting away their glittery petals over whoever the owl flew over, and then re-sprouted to their original states. The owl flew down to Hermione and dropped its load, fluttering away again. Their was an excited chatter through the Great Hall as Hermione blushed deeply, and Ron glared, muttering what Harry heard to be 'Stupid Krum.'
In the middle of the Ever-Blooming Bouquet, there was a particularly large rose, petals of silver and gold fully spread, but not constantly shedding like its brothers and sisters surrounding it. Instead, everyone at the Gryffindor table leaned in to hear a softly musical humming noise coming from the rose. It unexpectedly jumped, sending a thoroughly excited Neville falling to his rear, and then, the rose began to swing around and sing, blossoming and un-blossoming as if it were moving its mouth.
'Hermione, my sweet, gentle, and fair,
caring and smart, the best of anywhere;
As cool as Water, intense as Fire,
Set her to a job, and she'll never tire;
Down to the Earth, and strong as Wind
Hermione, please, be my girlfriend.'
She stared, mouth open slightly, and Ron raged a furious red as the crowd around them applauded. Harry had to duck behind Lavender and Parvati, who were giggling and cooing, in order to hide laughing out loud, but resurfacing, he saw that even Dumbledore was cheering, and McGonagall was actually smiling. 'I am such a good poet.' Harry thought.
Many people were now asking, 'Who's it from?' or 'Could it be Krum?' so Hermione reached out a shaking hand to the note tied around the stems, and ripped it open. She gasped, her eyes froze, and she turned the most original shade of pink Harry had ever seen, before fainting dead away into Ron's shocked arms.
Harry guessed he himself was turning red from holding his breath, but couldn't risk exploding with mirth. He waited patiently for Neville to reach over and pick up the note.
"From Ron Weasley?!" He exclaimed, the whole room turning to stare at Ron, who nearly dropped Hermione.
Harry couldn't take it anymore. He walked up to Ron, said with a wink, "Nice poem, mate. Good luck with your new girlfriend." He slapped hands with Dean, and strode into the Entrance Hall, bursting into laughter as he ducked behind the stairs. He wiped the tears from his eyes as he turned to go upstairs, and slammed right into someone else.
"Luna?" Harry's amusement died on his lips and he forgot about Ron and the flowers immediately. She smiled at him, and pulled her robes straight absent-mindedly.
"Harry... nice job back there, sending them for Ron." She tucked a strand of her pale blonde hair behind her ear, revealing bottlecap earrings. Those were quite normal for her...
Harry nervously flattened his hair in the most casual manner he could. "Wait... what? How-how'd you know?"
"You were laughing too much. And I doubt very much that Ron Weasley could've written that poem... or any poem for that matter." Luna stared dreamily at the ceiling.
Harry gazed at her, wondering if it was appropriate... if he should do what he thought was the right thing at this perfect moment. "Luna?"
Her wide-eyed gaze fell on him as he cleared his throat nervously and plunged right in. "I'm sorry about the way I treated you. I ignored you, and you deserve much better than that." He said this very quickly, but what followed was muttered so fast, that Harry could barely understand himself. "But... IthinkI'mbetternowandevenmore,IreallyreallywanttogooutwithyouagainbecauseIthinkyou'reagreatperson."
Harry held his breath, waiting for her answer, which didn't come for several moments. Finally, she nodded and said calmly, "Yes, Harry, I think you are better now."
And she kissed him like she did under the beech tree... by the lake... and next to the sunset. And Harry hadn't hoped anything better that that.
THE END
SGL: Well, that took me the longest time to finish, because I wanted it all in a one-shot, so, sorry if it seems rushed. I hope you guys enjoyed the fluff... review please! And I don't know much more that the basic British-isms, so please ignore that ^.^ ...
And it just occurred to me that the title isn't applicable to anything but the first couple of paragraphs of the story... but oh well, maybe I'll revise it someday...
~ Shamanic Guardian Lena