Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this scenario.
The light tapping on the door of his flat was unexpected, to say the least; he hadn't ordered anything from the Chinese place three blocks away, nor had he bought anything off the Internet recently.
He set down his gin and tonic (the fourth one of the day, and it wasn't even noon) and debated whether or not it was worth it to get up from his comfortable position from the couch to investigate who could possibly be bothering him at the ungodly hour of 11:30 a.m.
Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him so he stood up, adjusted his dressing gown, and walked the ten feet to the door to open it.
To his surprise, it wasn't the restaurant delivery man or the postie; rather, a woman who couldn't have been a day over twenty-five stood there, holding what appeared to be the latest edition of Men's Health.
He gave the lass the once-over. She was petite, with long dirty blonde hair and round silvery eyes. Very pretty, certainly; but yet, she reminded him of a lad he'd been schoolmates with many years ago, whose name he'd long forgotten.
While her demanor suggested a quiet distance, her outfit supposed her to be the exact opposite: a sunny yellow short-sleeved top paired with a long bright purple skirt and brown closed-toe sandals. Odd, most definitely; but then again, this was London that he lived in.
He ran a hand through his dark bedhead and started scratching his five o'clock shadow before he remembered she was there.
"The hell do you want?"
If the curse bothered her, she didn't show it; she replied in a smooth, angelic tone that suggested that her mind was in another place.
"I just decided to drop by to deliver your magazine. It ended in my post quite by accident." She stole a glace at him. "You are Theodore Nott of Flat 4B, correct?" He nodded, and she pressed on. "Funny, you don't seem like the type to read this sort of thing."
He let out an unpleasant snort. "Just give me the bloody magazine, woman."
She rolled her eyes. "Well, that's not very nice of you, now is it?"
"I'm not a very nice person, ma'am."
Her laughter was like the sound of a thousand tinkling wind chimes: both delicate and beautiful. "I rather like you, Mr. Nott. Perhaps we could go out for fish and chips at the tavern across the way sometime."
The offer surprised him; he hadn't gone out with friends, let alone on a date, since he was in his last year at university. But now, a beautiful lass was standing outside his doorway, offering to go out with him, even if it was just a one-time thing.
So of course, he did what any man with half a brain would do. "Certainly. Does next Friday at seven work for you?"
She nodded. "That it does." She handed him back the magazine and pulled what appeared to be an orange permanent marker out of her pocket. "Actually, do mind if I write my mobile number on the back of this?" She gestured towards his returned Men's Health.
He shrugged. "Ah, what the hell. It's just a magazine."
She grinned. "Fantastic." She reclaimed the magazine and scribbled down some numbers on the back of it before returning to him. "I've got to run; I'm going to be late for my shift if I stand her much longer. Nice talking to you, though."
As she walked off, he realized he'd forgotten one tiny detail. "Hey miss!"
She stopped and turned around as he continued. "I never did catch your name."
She resumed walking as she looked over her shoulder and called back, "It's Lovegood. Luna Lovegood."
And that's the end. I might write more later though. This was written for the Muggleize It competition over on HPFC.