Title: Let's Do Lunch.

Character Focus: Ronald Weasley/Luna Lovegood.

Rating: K.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the character's mentioned in this story, nor Harry Potter or anything associated with it. I just wrote the fanfic.

It was a bright, sunny day. The wind blew delightfully through the small town where a tall ginger-haired boy boy resided. The perfectly green leaves blew from the little force of the wind. Ron Weasley checked his watch, which he could see his longing face reflected in. Where could she be? He thought to himself, dropping his arm to his side and sticking his hands into his pockets. Could she have gotten lost? No, she's not dumb, I gave her very simple directions, and she doesn't live that far away. Perhaps she's gotten hurt? The possible reasons as to why the girl he was waiting to venture off to lunch with crossed his mind, he stood there, anticapating her arrival at any moment.

The girl that the tall male was waiting for was Luna Lovegood. A unique girl, with long blond locks of lazily curled hair, she was a few inches shorter than Ron, and she had a smile that could bring a smile to even those who were in the deepest depths of depression. Ron had made a, what his older brother, George Weasley, teasingly labeled, "lunch date" with Luna 3 days ago. These were, to Ron, the longest three days of his life. He had longed to see Luna ever since their last day of their 7th, and final, year at Hogwarts, the school of witchcraft and wizardry.

True, Ron had dated his other friend, Hermione Granger, for a short amount of time, but their personalities clashed like two lions maining each other for a small piece of meat. He knew it wouldn't last, but he had had feelings for Hermione for as long as he could remember. But even through Hermione and Ron's short time together as a couple, Ron still wanted to see Luna.

Months passed, and he thought that maybe he had forgotten her, maybe she had already found someone that she felt a strange way about, the strange feeling of love. Harry Potter, his other long-time friend, assured him that she was probably settling back into her warm home, that she was tending to her father. But Ron had planted the thought in his head that Luna didn't care for him, that she only felt affection toward Harry, or maybe another friend of Ron's, Neville Longbottom.

Two years, two long years, seemed to drag by, at a slug-like pace. He thought of her every day, he sent her letters via owl once a month, every month, but he recieved no reply. To his family, he was the same Ron Weasley; the youngest son of Arthur and Molly Weasley, the boy who practically spoke sarcasm as a second language, and cracked corny, perhaps even crude, jokes every time he saw an opening to get a laugh. But those especially close to him, such as Harry or Hermione, knew he was longing to see her, longing to embrace her, perhaps even press his lips against her's in a kiss that would be like ones that took place in fairy tales, like the ones that Ron seemed to imagine in his mind.

It would always play out like a scene of a hero, Ron, rescuing a princess, Luna. He would rush heroicly to her aid as she yelled from the highest window of an elegant castle. He would dash through the halls of he castle, surrounded by spottles, white, pearl walls. Following her yells, which normally consisted of, "Help! I need help!" or "Please, I don't want to leave this world yet, I have yet to see everything that I desire to see..." Ron, after running through many halls, up many steps, and defeating a large dragon that was obviously appointed as a gaurdian, he would thrust himself into the room holding the elagent princess, Luna, breaking the door off it's hinges. She would gasp, and then tears would roll down her face, glistening, as she would softly say in her wonderful, airy voice, "Ronald, my hero..." And she would place her mouth gently on his, after lifting herself off of what seemed to be a long stone table, her white gowns falling upon the floor as the intimacy between them seemed to increase, in the small room in the beautiful castle...

As Ron recounted this vision, he seemed to blush as he came back to his senses. Luna was standing directly in front of him, wearing the same kind smile that always warmed Ron's heart. He flushed, and turned his head away, trying to hide his exceedingly red face; he pretended to be picking something out of his eye. "Sorry, must've dozed off..." He mumbled, and she giggled and smiled even bigger. Ron was about to break out in a bright red shade of blush again, when the words just seemed to roll off his tongue, "What took you so long, Luna?"

"Oh, I was just distracted. Such a beautiful landscape around here, Ronald..." She rambled on, gazing around her surroundings. Ron felt like grabbing her and kissing her on the spot, but resisted the urge when Luna spoke again, in her soft, hypnotizing voice, "Shall we go?"

"Wha--?" Ron was too busy gazing at Luna's soft blond hair to realize that she had spoken.

"To lunch?" She giggled and she looked him right in the eye, he felt like he had melted.

"Oh, yeah." He said, smiling. "Sorry, didn't get much sleep last night." He wasn't lying, he couldn't sleep knowing that this meeting was coming, he had been too anxious...

"Well, c'mon then, Ronald!" She smiled again, grabbed his hand, and pulled him along, down a long path that lead to a small restaraunt, where they had agreed to eat lunch. He willingly allowed himself to be pulled along by the beautiful, blond witch. Something about the warmth he felt with her hand in his made him think, no, made him sure, that this was going to lead to something amazing, something Ron had yearned for for so long. He was ready to love, and to finally be loved back.