Serendipity - Bill/Luna, written for Lady's "Writing School Early Idea Looking for Teachers!" challenge on HPFC, as well as fic 4/50 for the Pairing Diversity Boot Camp challenge.

The girl leveled her broom to his, the two of them whizzing through the air at a breakneck speed. It was incredible, this racing, and Bill felt adrenaline pump through his veins as it only ever did when he was out in the field, breaking down wards.

But this was a different kind of rush, an exhilarating one, leaving him breathless by the time they'd circled the Quidditch Pitch three times. Then, by unspoken agreement, they slowed down – long hair falling over both their faces, blinding for a moment.

The blonde pushed her hair back and blinked wide eyes at him. "Hello, Bill," she said simply.

Bill, struck momentarily speechless, scrambled around his brain for the name. "Er, hello, Luna," he finally managed.

"How are you?"

He shrugged, "Same as ever, you?"

She didn't answer, rushing off to the ground. Before he could catch up with her, she had already raced into the change-room. Then, Bill, too, flew to the ground, running his hands thorough his hair when he touched down, feeling his heart racing from the exertion.

What a coincidence that they'd met, he thought as he rinsed the sweat off of his body some time later. Then, he wondered how she'd known that it was him – he hadn't recognised her at all. Maybe it had been chance-

Or maybe it was destiny.

Though, most probably, it was Luna Lovegood's special brand of magic.

. .

It was Wednesday, a few weeks later. The wind was biting hard, and even the strong body-heat retention spell wasn't working very successfully. But Bill was angry, shown in his quick turns, high speeds, and general demeanor.

He had his shoulders hunched in and his chest was level with his broom. He rushed across the pitch at record speed, feeling the air whip around him violently.

And then it started to rain. But it didn't just rain, it poured. The skies had opened and the winds had picked up.

Bill continued flying.

The visibility was low and Bill felt less pent-up anger than earlier, so he slowly began to reduce his speed until he was hovering in the air. A tremor ran up his spine as a shiver wracked his body. He huddled in closer, but there was no heat to be found at his position in the sky.

A flash of something caught his eye on the ground. Lighting reflecting off of something. Curious, Bill landed, moving close to the object that he'd seen.

It was a person! As Bill moved closer, he felt a deep sort of recognition.

"Luna!" He had to shout to be heard over the sounds of the storm.

She looked utterly at peace, rain drenching her clothes and hair. She sat on the ground, her eyes were closed, and her face was upturned – facing the heavens. But, at his call, Luna looked at him.

"Hello, Bill," she said, just as she had all those days ago.

A few possible sentences Bill could say rushed through his head. ("I haven't seen you for a while," "I've been looking for you," "Why are you here?" "How did you find me?" "I've been wondering about you-"). Instead, he said, "lovely weather, isn't it?" It was meant as a sarcastic comment, and he waited expectantly for her response.

"You're right," she said. "It is. I think it's important to appreciate everything in life, maybe you should learn, too."

Bill, no longer shivering, moved closer to this interesting girl, feeling like a moth attracted to a dancing, elusive flame. "What do you find beautiful about it?" He asked.

Luna closed her eyes at him, motioning for him to sit beside her. He sat.

"I don't know," she said. "Just imagine how big the entire earth is. Imagine all the places and people that wish for water to drink and to use. Think of all the countries that are all dried up – desert with nothing for ages. We're the lucky ones – we have rain. It gives us life. Don't you feel the energy from the water? It's so powerful."

"Sometimes," said Bill. "I don't feel very lucky."

"The simple things count the most," she said. "Stop focusing on yourself to see the people and energies around you. Allow it to fill you up and guide you to greatness – use the bigger picture to see what you have to do to get there."

Bill shook his head, though he kept his eyes closed, wondering what on earth she was talking about.

"Mind open, heart open, worry-free, happy," Luna said. "And happiness means love."

Bill made a sound of protest. "Happiness does not always equal love," he said, biting down on his lip.

"Love for yourself is the most important kind."

He stayed silent, feeling the raindrops fall onto him, washing away everything, allowing him to start afresh.

. .

"How are you, Bill?"

"Work was tough today – it was a dangerous assignment."

"I am glad you're safe."

"Me, too,"

. .

It was raining again. Together, they sat on the grass, letting the water run over them, clearing them of worry and fear. Together they braved the storm, making everything else simple.

. .

"How's Fleur doing?" She asked, flying around in loopy circles that seemed fluid and practiced… but random at the same time. Beautiful.

Bill growled inwardly, but tried to look nonchalant. "She's fine. Work's going great. They've already offered her a promotion."

Luna flew away and Bill followed her.

"Where are you going?" Bill asked, an unnameable feeling within him making him call out.

"Truth over saving face," she answered over her shoulder. "Friends don't lie to friends."

. .

"I just might kill her if she asks me one more time if I'm okay with it!"

Bill cut to the side angrily, narrowly missing Luna. She looked nonplussed, weaving out of the way with lightning-quick reflexes.

"Does she think I'll be okay with her flying halfway around the world on a job I was supposed to do? Does she think I'll be fine alone? Has she forgotten all the times she said she'd never leave me, that she loves me, that I love her?"

"Bigger picture," reminded a calm Luna.

"Yes, but – Aurgh, it's so infuriating! Does she want space? I don't think she needs to accept a month-long curse-breaking assignment to get that! Communication is what we need if she wants space. Or time. Or money, or whatever she thinks she'll gain by leaving me."

Luna trailed behind the man, letting him blow off his steam. "You know," she said. "Maybe you're the one who really needs space."

. .

It was the first snowfall of the year. Light, fluffy snowflakes wafted down. Luna seemed so thoroughly delighted by the powdery substance that Bill, too, joined in and started a playful snowball fight.

They lay in the snow, heads almost touching. "Do you know what I think?" Luna asked.

"That we should be using this rent-by-the-hour Quidditch pitch the right way?" He joked.

"I think you're happy."

Bill was baffled, "Wha-Aren't I always?"

"Well, no."

"Ah."

And so he thought about it, trying to figure out what in the name of Merlin's jagged toenail she could be on about.

. .

"She's coming home tomorrow, you know."

"I know."

"What should I do?"

"Whatever you think is right for you is, in fact, right for you."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

. .

The way he cut though the icy winds was breathtaking to any onlooker on a good day, but he was quite obviously worked up about something, if the way he was bordering on violent with his broomstick tugs. The turns he made were so sharp that they threatened to pitch him right off a few times. The strong gusts of wind strong enough to knock branches loose from trees didn't help, either.

Luna kicked off the ground, wondering how to call out to Bill.

She got close enough to him to yell, but he didn't hear her. "Bill!" She shouted.

He spotted her, and his shoulders seemed to straighten out a bit. His stormy expression appeared to clear a little. His speed diminished and he sat up in proper position.

In fact, a positively gleeful smile sat itself on his mouth when he called out her name. She smiled and waved in return.

"I haven't seen you in ages," he said.

She shrugged, "Bigger picture."

"Maybe, sometimes, it's good to focus on yourself a little," he said. "What's wrong?"

Something was off, he noticed, about her. Something about the way she held herself. Something about the way her smile didn't seem to reach her eyes, the way her eyes didn't twinkle.

"Nothing."

"Truth over saving face," he reminded. "Friends never lie to friends."

And then something twisted in her face, and then tears were running down, and sobs were ringing out, and Bill realised that Luna had burst into tears, right there, high up in the sky, where there was no one around to comfort her but Bill.

He urged his broom towards hers, and once they were close enough he extended his arms and looped them around her. She shook in his embrace, shaking him, shaking his world, shaking everything.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Luna was supposed to know the answer to everything. She was not supposed to be like this – not supposed to break down.

His heart was racing, heavy in his chest but somehow up in his throat all at the same time. A sick feeling made itself known in the pit of his stomach. He decided then and there that he didn't like it when she cried.

"It's mum's birthday," she managed through the sobs she tried to contain. "It's my mum's birthday."

Bill had heard the story, he knew what had happened, and he held her closer, hugged her tighter. His toes touched the ground and he realised that they'd slowly lowered themselves down.

"I know, Luna. I know. It's hard for us all – I know I can hardly be myself on Fred's birthday. I can hardly move. You're so strong. I admire you."

"What should I do?" She turned into his shoulder, wet tears beginning to soak through the material there. He scooped her up and off of the broom, lowering the two of them to the ground.

"There's nothing to do but wait."

And they waited.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I want to fly."

"Then, Luna, let's fly."

The winds had died down a fair bit, but what was left still provided enough noise to make speaking impossible. A good thing, thought Bill, who had been left with shaky limbs and a tingly feeling in the pit of his stomach. It coiled and curled, pushing at his insides and making him feel queasy. It was terrible, and he hated it. He hated her sadness more. She had no energy in her movements, all of them sluggish and generally unresponsive.

He hated that he was scared to try and talk to her. He was frightened he would burst into tears himself.

When had she become such a pivotal point in his life? When had everything begun to revolve around her? There was no other reason her confusion and lack of self-assuredness had thrown him so far.

Thinking bigger, Bill began to wonder when the chance meetings at the Quidditch pitch had become so regular. When they'd become expected, anticipated. Most importantly, how did she feel about them? Why-how-what had they started?

"Why did you come find me that first day?"

"You needed me to find you." Came the simple answer.

"Do I still need you?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

He took some time to think about that answer, then said, "Do you need me to find you?"

More time. Silence. Stillness.

"Maybe."

They said nothing, Bill because he didn't know what, and Luna because she seemed to have run out of things to say. An impossible occurence, but it had happened.

"What do you think is the right thing to do right now?" Bill asked, hoping for something other than the silence.

Luna shrugged, "I'm cold. I may go home to make some cocoa."

No. Being alone was worse than silence. No. Bill didn't want her to leave.

"Do you want to know what I think is the right thing to do right now?" He asked as they landed.

She dropped her broom and took off to the change-rooms.

Bill called after her, "Whatever I think is right is, in fact, right! I think whatever you think is right is right. I think I don't make sense. I think you don't need me anymore. I think I need you. I know I need you."

But she was gone

. .

The next days brought a world of change into Bill's world. He decided to put his all into working, trying to uphold and regain the status he had once held. He filed for divorce - after a long conversation with Fleur. They wanted different things in life, had different goals, and both agreed it was for the best.

The empty feeling in him didn't lessen one iota.

. .

The Quidditch pitch was as empty as ever, but Bill continued going in hopes that the bright spot in his life would return and make him feel whole again.

She didn't.

. .

And then, one day, she did.

He was flying out of hope more than anything, and the rays of light spring sunshine glinted off of something on the ground.

Reluctantly – for what if he was imagining things? – Bill descended.

"Luna?"

It was her. A sharp flash of relief flooded through him, and he waited for her response.

The crazy girl did nothing more than nod, eyes still closed, legs still crossed, face still turned up to capture the sunlight.

He sat down beside her and they waited for the heat and light to burn their reservations away.

. .

"Whatever you think is right for you is, in fact, right for you," she'd said all that time ago. And then he'd said it, and Bill still couldn't let the memory go.

Something was missing, despite the fact that he'd cleaned out the proverbial skeletons from his closet. He didn't know what to do about the hole in his life – in his heart. Except what was right.

So, one day, under the beautiful full moon Luna had invited him to watch with her, he kissed her. And it was the truest, rightest thing he'd ever done.