Let Your Heart be Light
It was a Muggle song, but it seemed to have migrated into the Magical world this December.
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light."
"Fat chance of that," Ron thought to himself gloomily as he rearranged goods in the window of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Nothing about this Christmas promised to be merry, and his heart was anything but light. Personally, he'd be very glad to see the back of the festive season. January the second couldn't come fast enough as far as he was concerned. Suddenly, he became aware that someone was watching him, and he looked up to see a pair of misty blue eyes regarding him seriously through the window.
Luna's mouth moved, and she waved her hands around, but Ron couldn't hear a word she was saying. Sighing, he left the window and went to the shop door and opened it.
"I can't hear you, you know," he said grumpily as Luna turned to him with a smile on her face.
"I was only saying that you shouldn't put those black things in the window," she said, gesturing at the decoy detonators in Ron's hands. "They don't look very festive. You need bright colours for Christmas."
Ron shrugged. Luna was the last person he wanted to explain his feelings about the festive season to. But apparently he didn't need to.
"I expect it's hard to feel Christmassy when your brother's died," she said, with the air of someone making a startling new discovery. "It must be even harder for George – I expect that's why you're doing the window instead of him."
Ron gaped at her. Luna's habit of stating the bloody obvious as if it were something new was unanswerable.
She smiled at him sympathetically. "Put some tinsel on them," she advised. "They'll look much nicer. Then come and have a cup of tea with me. I'm thirsty and I want someone to talk to. I need some advice about what to get Daddy for Christmas."
Ron had never found Luna particularly easy to talk to – perhaps because during so many of their interactions in the past he had been striving to suppress his mirth. But somehow today was different. Her bluntness was comforting after months of people skirting around the subject of Fred. She was equally direct on other subjects.
"Where's Hermione?" she asked. "I thought you and she were going out."
Ron felt himself colouring, and took a large mouthful of tea to hide his confusion. It was a mistake. When he had finished choking and Luna had finished thumping him on the back, he found that she was still looking at him wide-eyed, waiting for an answer.
"Hermione?" she prompted. "Where is she?"
"Australia," Ron said mournfully. "Her parents like it there. They're having Christmas on the beach."
"How fun," said Luna brightly. "Didn't she ask you to go too?"
Ron shook his head. "We aren't… I mean, not any more… Anyway, I couldn't go even if she had asked me. Mum wants us all home for Christmas."
Luna nodded sagely. "I suppose she would," she said thoughtfully. "I expect it will be hard for all of you." She drained her teacup and stood up, extending a hand to pull Ron to his feet. "But now you can help me to buy a present for Daddy. He's been very sad since the war too. Do you think something from Fred and George's shop would cheer him up?"
Arguing with Luna was a bit like arguing with a charging Hippogriff. It was easier just to go along with her. Ron let himself be led back to the joke shop, and found himself helping her to pick out a joke wand and a pack of marked Muggle playing cards for her father. By the time her purchase was complete, he had somehow agreed to meeting Luna on Boxing Day for a drink, and George was smirking at him from behind the counter.
"Got yourself a new girlfriend, little bro?" he asked as the door shut behind Luna.
Ron responded with a rude gesture, and George smirked even more.
Still, after a somewhat mournful Christmas day, Luna's arrival at The Burrow on Boxing Day with a bunch of Christmas roses for Ron's mother and a bright smile for everyone else was like a breath of fresh air. She took Ron's hand and towed him out of the door almost before he had had a chance to say "goodbye" to his family, to the accompaniment of wolf whistles from George and Charlie.
It was remarkably easy to talk to Luna. She had changed very little despite all that she had been through, the odd sort of gravity she had always displayed not noticeably increased by her experiences during the war. And her openness made Ron more willing to be open with her. He found himself talking about the loss of Fred and his split with Hermione as he had never done before. And Luna talked too. She did not go into detail about the term she endured at Hogwarts under the Carrows nor about her imprisonment and torture at Malfoy Manor, but she did talk about her father and his depression since the end of the war. The loss of his home and his own betrayal of the cause he believed in had hit him hard. As she spoke, it seemed quite natural to Ron to reach across the table and take her hand. He did not even notice that he was doing it. And it seemed equally natural after accompanying her to the new house where she lived with her father to kiss her goodnight.
She turned up at the shop on the day after Boxing Day, and began helping Ron restock the shelves without so much as a by your leave. Ron ignored George's eyes and let her get on with it. Arguing with Luna was a lost cause. And even George did not object when she went out at lunchtime and brought them all back Chinese takeaway. "Daddy's favourite", was all she said about it.
She took Ron's hand in a proprietorial way as they left together at the end of the day, and it did not just feel natural, it felt normal and nice and familiar. Somehow, and without any conscious volition on his part, Ron seemed to be going out with Luna, and he liked how it felt.
Their relationship progressed quickly. From the New Year party at Merlyn's nightclub, where what was left of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix celebrated a new year free from the fear of Voldemort, to evenings in the Leaky Cauldron, meals at Carlino's restaurant and lunches at some little café that Luna had found on her trips into Muggle London.
Luna was still Luna. She still spoke about Nargles and Plimpies and Heliopaths and other creatures that Ron had no belief in. He learnt to go along with her, and to keep his amusement to himself. Sometimes he even found himself asking questions and wondering if the things she spoke about might really exist after all. Luna also spoke about her mother and Fred and others who had died as if they had merely left the room and would be back at any moment. Ron found that very reassuring.
By Easter, Ron was staying regularly overnight at Luna's, although her father still regarded him warily. Ron's own family were divided between laughing at his new found love, and being happy for him that he was happy.
And he was happy in a way that he had not imagined possible in the days after Hermione told him kindly that it was best if they just stayed as friends and flew off to Australia to be with her newly restored parents. He had not imagined feeling like this about anyone for a very long time. He had definitely not imagined thinking about a future spent with anyone but Hermione. And that was the way his mind was working. He knew the danger of rushing into things, but he loved Luna and was pretty sure that she felt the same way about him.
By June, Ron was living most of the time with Luna in the new house her father was having built. When he panicked and thought he might be rushing into things, he told himself it was for practical reasons: there was so little room in the flat over the shop after all. Xenophilus Lovegood was a quiet and morose presence in the house, rarely bothering the young couple, although Luna fussed over him and worried that he was not eating enough. On Sundays they went to The Burrow with the rest of the Weasley family, which was as noisy and chaotic as ever, despite the haunted look in George's eyes and everyone's awareness of the empty space beside him at the table. The Weasleys accepted Luna as they accepted Percy's shy and silent new girlfriend, Audrey, with good-natured teasing and ribbing, and – on Ron's mother's part at least – with the degree of suspicion justifiable about any young woman who dared to try to take the first place with one of her sons.
Things changed in September. At a particularly loud and riotous family dinner, two announcements were made. Percy and Audrey were engaged, and Bill and Fleur were going to have a baby. Luna sat very still amongst the cheers and backslapping and laughter, looking at Audrey and Fleur in turn with a puzzled look on her face that Ron could not fathom out. When he sat back down beside her and took her hand, saying, "Hey, I'm going to be an uncle, how about that?" she smiled vaguely and withdrew her hand gently but firmly from his.
She remained cool and distant for the rest of the week. She responded quietly when Ron asked her what was wrong, that nothing was wrong and that she was perfectly well thank you very much. But an increasingly worried Ron could not believe her.
On the following Saturday, an owl arrived with a note for Ron. "Thought you should know. Hermione's back in England. She'll be at dinner at your Mum's tomorrow. Harry."
Ron's breath caught in his chest, though he wasn't quite sure why. He was over Hermione. They were friends and nothing more. He was in love with Luna.
But for some reason he could not explain even to himself, he did not tell Luna about the note.
At lunch, Hermione took a place beside Ron as a matter of course. She was so busy telling everyone about life in Australia and her new job in the Office of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry that she did not even notice when Luna quietly sat down on Ron's other side. Hermione looked wonderful. She had lost the haunted look she had worn during the Horcrux hunt. She was slim and tanned and had cut her hair into a bob which suited her surprisingly well. During the meal, Ron found himself turning to her far more often than to Luna. For her part, Luna remained silent and still, speaking only when spoken to, with her gaze moving from Audrey to Fleur to Hermione and back again as the meal progressed.
"We need to talk," Luna said without preamble after she and Ron had Apparated back to her father's house. "Now." She took his hand and led him out into the overgrown garden to the patch where she was growing lavender to help her father sleep. Forever after that day, Ron associated the scent of lavender with a vague sense of sadness and guilt and something that might have been relief.
"It's not going to work between us, Ron," Luna said sadly, still holding his hand in hers. "I love you and you love me, but it's not enough. We're too young. I want to see the world. I want to do something before I settle down and have babies and forget about real life."
Ron frowned. "Aren't babies real life?" he demanded.
Luna smiled. "Of course they are, but not for me. Not for us. Not yet. I'm only eighteen, Ron. You're only nineteen. We need to live a little before we do anything like that."
"We could live a little together." Ron sounded sulky, even in his own ears. "I don't want marriage and babies and stuff now any more than you do, but that's no reason to split up."
Luna shook her head. "I think it is, Ron. We don't want the same things." She took a deep breath. "There's an expedition to South America to look for the Ferabdab bird. Daddy's friend is leading it and he asked me to go. We leave next week. On Friday."
Ron felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he knew it was over. Luna was right. He could not wait for her while she went off on a wild goose – or wild Ferabdab bird – chase. His priorities were much closer to home.
Luna looked at him and he saw that she was crying. "And Hermione's back now," she said. "You and her – well, everyone wants it."
Ron snorted. "I don't want it," he growled. "She's my friend, nothing more. Really."
Luna shook her head, and deep inside himself, Ron felt the sort of guilt you feel when you are lying to yourself. Perhaps his feelings for Hermione had never really changed. He grabbed Luna by the shoulders and pulled her to him, kissing her hard. Then he let her go, strode a few steps and Apparated away. He asked Ginny to go and fetch his things from the Lovegood house the next day. He did not see Luna again for nearly three years.
Luna Lovegood and Rolph Scamander
Invite you to come and help them celebrate their marriage
On June 17th 2002
At Lovegood Towers, Near Ottery Saint Catchpole
Hermione grimaced. "Do we have to go? We have so much to do sorting out our own wedding. And we haven't seen Luna for years."
Ron glowered at her. He loved Hermione, but there were times when she made him plain angry. "Of course we have to go, Hermione," he said. "Luna's our friend. The only reason we haven't seen her is because she's been abroad for ages. And we should send her and Rolph an invitation to our wedding too."
"But she's your ex, Ron," Hermione protested.
Ron's anger drained away in an instant. Somehow it was hard to think of his Hermione as ever feeling insecure. He came over and put his arms around her.
"Yeah, she's my ex," he said quietly. "And now I'm with you and she's with Rolph. It's you I love, Hermione. Me and Luna – well, it was just a teenage romance. We're both over it now. Let's owl Luna and say we'd love to come to their wedding. And invite them to ours too." He kissed Hermione gently. "I love you more than anything, but even you can't tell me about the Ferabdab bird. I need to see Luna for that."
Hermione actually smiled.
The years passed. The two couples moved in different circles for the most part, but met each other at DA reunions and battle memorials and, as their families grew, they met now and again at Kings Cross at the beginning and end of every term.
Rolph Scamander died in an accident involving a mountain troll just before Christmas in 2018. Luna stood dry-eyed at the graveside, her fourteen-year-old sons on either side of her. Hermione had declined to attend, but Ron was there. He was glad he had gone; Luna looked small and vulnerable and alone, even with her sons there. He hugged her and said if there was anything he could do, please would she let him know.
He didn't really expect to hear from her – that was just the kind of thing that you said at funerals to show you were a decent person. But Luna owled him two days later and asked if she and the boys could be included in the Weasley and Potter family Christmas. "We have no family, and it will be hard enough for them," she wrote. "It might help to be around other young people."
That Christmas was the beginning of a deepening friendship between Ron and Luna. He found, somewhat to his surprise, that he enjoyed her company and her quirky conversation quite as much as he had when he was nineteen. It was purely platonic of course: he was married to Hermione and he loved Hermione. But Luna was a good friend, and if he could help her out with her twins, who needed a male presence in their lives, then that could only be a good thing. Luna understood. She was careful to keep a distance between them, to ask how Hermione was and to send her her love. Besides, she had loved her husband and was still mourning him. There was no question of anything romantic between her and Ron.
Two years passed. Hermione was embroiled in a complicated legal case at the Ministry and came home late every day. Ron was torn between the plans to expand Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes into Europe and supporting George through his messy and acrimonious divorce from Angelina. Luna's peaceful house became something of a refuge for him.
The Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' staff Christmas party was over for another year, and Ron was grateful that it had gone off without a hitch. It was true that George had drunk too much – he often did these days – but he'd managed to get through his speech before he hit the melancholy stage of drunkenness, and Ron had seen him safely home afterwards. George was back to living in a flat above the shop in Diagon Alley, although it was a bigger more luxurious flat than the one he had shared with Fred in the early days, over a much enlarged store. Ron sighed with relief as he shut the shop door behind him and stepped away from the building to Apparate home. He wondered idly if Hermione would be home before him for once – it was well after midnight, after all.
That was when he saw them – two figures embracing under one of the gas lamps on the other side of the Alley. Two very familiar figures. He must have gasped or cried out, although he had no consciousness of having done so, because they both turned and looked at him. The reflections from the gaslight twinkled on Harry's glasses, and Hermione made a sound somewhere between a sob and a giggle.
The tiny part of Ron that wasn't hurt and horrified by his wife's and his best friend's betrayal acknowledged that he wasn't surprised at all. His marriage to Hermione had been dead on its feet for years, and Harry and Ginny had long been living in their own marital hell second only to George and Angelina's. Of course they would turn to each other for comfort, and of course comfort would turn to something more. There was too much history between them for it not to.
Ron faced them with his hands spread out, shrugged and half-smiled and then turned to Apparate away. He did not have to think about where to go. There was only one place he wanted to be right now.
Luna opened the door to him with a smile despite the lateness of the hour, and Ron followed her into her warm kitchen with the holly and ivy hung over the mantelpiece and door without a word of explanation, knowing that she needed none until he was ready to give it.
It felt like coming home.