A/N: Title from She's Got You High by Mumm-Ra.

I tried my hand at Loveley fic. I've always thought they'd make an adorable couple.

"He wouldn't want you to be like this, you know," she said softly. George looked up to see Luna standing over him, a note in one hand and a Tuppaware in the other. One could see how much George went through without really knowing him. His face was withered with sorrow and the lines on his face deepened with sadness. He reminded her of her father. He'd look almost exactly like that when she crept up on him when she came home from Malfoy Manor. He'd immediately brightened once he saw her and all the pain had been washed away as he pulled her into a rib-crushing hug. She had the urge to do the same with George. She just couldn't stand the pained look on one's face.

"Well, I can't help it, Lu," sighed George, facing the headstone again. He brushed his fingers along the engraved letters. Fred Weasley.

"It's been months, George. Your mother's worried."

George snorted. His mother's been visiting the grave as much as he did, but since winter started, he guessed she's been home taking care of the rest of the family.

When he said nothing, she knelt down beside him. The snow made her knees cold, but she didn't mind. She took off her spectrespecs, placed it at the foot of the headstone and then the note beside it.

"Spectrespecs, Luna?"

"Fred said he'd been meaning to get one after the war, but never got around to it." She hadn't chosen the best words, but the way she said it made it seem like he'd been too lazy to instead of being too dead to. It comforted him.

"What about that?" he asked, pointing at the Tuppaware in her hand.

"Oh, pudding. Do you want some?" She pried open the cover and revealed a big blob of chocolate pudding. "It has peanut butter in it."

She produced the spoon and looked expectantly at him. Eventually, he took it and scooped up a big spoonful. It melted in his mouth, and it tasted good. "It's good. Where did you get it?"

"I made it," she said simply, taking a mouthful herself.

"Really? I didn't know you could bake."

"That's because you don't pay attention."

He almost choked. "Am I suppose to?"

She looked at him with her usual thoughtful expression, then shrugged and went back to the pudding.

They stayed like that for awhile. Both sitting cross-legged in the snow, she scraping the last bits of the pudding, he observing her without her noticing. Once she finished, she stowed the Tuppaware away back in her bag.

"Are you hungry, George?" she said, getting up.

"Not really, why?"

"You've lost weight."

George looked down at himself. Hmm. His clothes have been rather loose lately.

"I'm eating Chinese today," said Luna, offering him her hand.

He looked at it wanly, contemplated, then finally accepted it. It's been too long.

"You haven't shaved you know," she mused as they shoved their frozen hands in their pockets and headed towards her apartment.

He rubbed his hand along his chin, feeling the beard. "I know."

"I think you could do without the beard."

"Really? I reckon it made me look better," he grinned.

"It makes you look old."

He laughed. "But I am old, Luna."

"Not quite. You're still young." Then she added in her head, "We all are."

"Thanks for dinner, Luna," he said, depositing his plate in the sink.

Luna flicked her wand and the soap and sponge started washing the plate themselves. "You needed it," she replied as she cleaned up the table.

George opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. He crossed the kitchen and into the living room. He collapsed on the sofa and magicked the television remote towards him. He'd seen a Muggle film once and the bloke had used the remote to operate the television. George, however, didn't have a clue what to press. "Hey, Luna, how do you turn this bloody thing on?" he called.

Luna appeared seconds later seeing him fiddling with the thing, panicked that the screen had turn fuzzy and made strange sounds. "Here." She took it from him and returned it to its normal state. "You use this big, grey button to turn it on and off. That's for volume."

"Well, they should write something on it then. Something like 'press here to on' or 'this is the bloody volume'."

"It does, George. It says 'on'," she laughed.

George looked annoyed. "Yeah, well, they could've made it more obvious then," he muttered, pressing random numbered buttons to flick through the channels.

Luna went back to the kitchen to finish her work. As soon as the kitchen was clean, she stood in the middle, put her hands on her hips and huffed in satisfaction. She walked to the refrigerator and opened the door. "George, do you want more pudding?" she called out, scanning the shelves.

There was no reply. She straightened, close the fridge door and entered the living room. "George?"

She found him slumped sideways, mouth open, the remote still clutched in his hand. She smiled to herself. He looks seventeen again.

She gently removed the remote and switched the blaring television off before going into her room to retrieve an extra blanket. "George?" she shook him gently.

"Mmm?" he mumbles, half-asleep.

"Legs up, George." He did as he's told and she spreads the blanket over him, toes peeking out as he's far taller than she is. His snoring became steady almost immediately. Luna made herself some tea, leaned against the doorframe between the kitchen and the living room, and watched him sleep for a bit. He looks at peace, and she's sure he hasn't been in a while. From the way he snores, one could tell he hasn't been getting much sleep. It wasn't loud like the way Ron does, but it's not quiet either. It's just enough to drown out the nightmares. 'If a person snores, it means that he isn't dreaming. You can't dream and snore at the same time,' she remembered Hermione's voice, telling that to her one DA meeting years ago.

She glanced at the clock. It's only eight. She reached for a book from her ceiling high bookshelf and curled up on the big, plush armchair. The book was tattered and dog-eared from being read too many times, but it remained Luna's favourite.

She managed to finish her favourite quote, a poem by Robert Frost, – Luna's certain he was sorted into Ravenclaw when he went to Hogwarts, she absolutely loves his works – at three in the morning and then drowsiness overtook her.

"But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."

Should I continue? Please tell me (:
Because if there isn't a satisfying demand, I'll probably delete it.
Oh, and tell me if I should keep it in past or present tense.