"Hello my freaky darlings!"

There's a virtul goat for anyone who can guess which movie that particular quote comes from. The only hint I'll give is that it stars a very prominent actor as one of the lead characters.

Now, my apologies for my absence. This spring I started a new job, which after a short period of time became very time consuming. I work 12 hour continental shifts, with commuting, consumes 14 to 14 1/2 hours a day, before I have any time to myself. Along with renovations and the other multitude of household chores, I now have little time to spare for writing.

And now, on with my latest short story.

Disclaimer:

All characters and places within this story are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and affiliated partners.


In a small glade, hidden inside a copse of trees near the small village of Ottery St. Catchpole, a beautiful, blond haired young woman sat cross-legged, eyes closed in meditation. Not necessarily an odd sight, but for the fact she was floating slightly off the ground, as whorls of otherworldly forces swirled about her, causing her long locks to flutter in a breeze felt only by her.

She remained that way for some time, as the creatures that inhabited that part of the forest scurried about their business, seemingly used to this behaviour from this particular human.

Finally, after what seemed hours, her eyes snapped open, her silvery grey eyes focused and sharp, an expression of thoughtful reflection on her face. It didn't last long, however, before a haze of otherworldliness seemed to sweep across her visage, her eyes losing focus as she gazed at a point in the distance none but her could see.

With a grace unseen in the realms since the Fae had left mankind behind, she rose, taking a step forward as she descended to the ground, her footsteps carrying her to the path towards her home. Once there, she raised a hand and wandlessly summoned a quill and parchment. Her elegant handwriting flowed across the page as she hurriedly penned the note to her one true friend. He desperately needed this information, before he fell to depression and loneliness.

Harry Potter was a combination of bored, pissed off, angry, and a little disgusted with recent events. His letter of acceptance to Hogwarts for his final year lay open on the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place, and for lack of anything better to do he simply glared at it in frustration.

The reason for his current temperament resided several hundred miles away, and it was that which was placing him in such a mental quandry. Ron, his best friend of many years, and Hermione, his conscience and other best friend, were mooning over each other in such a lovesick manner it was actually upsetting his stomach. He was torn over whether he should be happy for them, or disgusted as the other two social outcasts of his 'inner circle' of friends pined over each other.

The fact that Harry had once briefly thought that he and Hermione might make a go at a relationship, crossed his mind, before he shuddered in revulsion. It wasn't that he didn't find her attractive, but her mannerisms and attitude towards him had soon spoiled any romantic thoughts he might have harboured for her.

First, was the bossiness. He didn't need a mother figure ordering him about, thank you very much! A lifetime of servitude to his relatives, and the meddling, overbearing attitude towards him by Hogwarts previous Headmaster had been more than he could stand.

Secondly, were her prudish, puritan standards that fit in far too well with wizarding society. The constantly correcting his language, grammer, and even the way he dressed was enough to drive any teenager barmy. He'd grown up with a juvenile delinquent cousin, who'd immersed himself in the rough-and-tumble world of boxing. Of course he'd be a little rough around the edges. Who wouldn't?

And finally, was her incessant need to bow down to authority figures. On some level he figured she had latent submissive tendencies, only curtailed by her upbring with two very successful, business oriented parents. At the thought of Hermione, clad in a submissive outfit, while a master dominated her..."AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!", Harry screamed. "Get out of my brain!"

At his outcry, a small 'pop' announced the arrival of Kreacher, his only other companion in the big, ramshackle house at the moment.

"Master is okay?", queried the aged elf, a mild look of concern on his face.

Harry sighed, and turned his gaze to his odd companion. "Everything's allright Kreacher. Just thinking bad thoughts about Hermione and Ron." At that Kreacher's face took on a look of contempt and disgust.

"Is wrong, it is. That she would pick the Weasley over Master Potter. Bah!" He waved his hand in disgust, before popping away to finish his work in the basement.

"Doesn't bother me in the slightest, actually", Harry mused, aloud. His stomach turned slightly in protest. "Except the mental pictures!" He shuddered dramatically. "Maybe it's time I got out for some fresh air."

Decided on his course of action, Harry quickly ran up the stairs, and changed into his most comfortable pair of jeans, t-shirt, and a pair of sturdy combat boots, light enough for running, yet durable enough for some shit-kicking, if it came to that.

Grabbing his wallet, he apparated to a cloaked spot near the Ministry for Magic, before sauntering out into muggle London, determined to have a little fun and amuse himself for the day, putting aside his debate whether or not to return to Hogwarts in the fall. As he strolled down the sidewalk, he was blithely unaware of a large raven carrying a rather cryptic letter from one of his dearest friends. A letter that would change the course of his future.

Several weeks later Harry stood on the platform of 9 3/4, hidden from view under his invisibility cloak. He'd seen Hermione and Ron scanning the crowds for him, yet he'd remained still, ignoring their questing glances. The note had told him what to do, and if there was one thing about the woman who'd sent it to him could be said, it was that she was brilliantly insightful.

As Harry was musing thoughtfully, he felt a slight tug on his cloak, and turned in surprise to see the luminescent eyes of one Luna Lovegood staring directly at him. "Damn!", he thought. "How the hell does she do that?" As the cloak's properties were impenetrable to any normal being, she should never have been able to find him.

He'd puzzled for months after Dumbledore's death how the former Headmaster and Alastor Moody had been able to 'see' him while under the cloak. He'd been sitting on his bead, running the cloak through his fingers when he found the small lump. He'd curiously investigated, finding a small metal object hand-stitched into the cloaks lining, near one of the corners where it'd be almost invisible. "That old bastard!", Harry had cursed. Dumbledore, inventive genius that he was, had hand sewn some kind of magic field generator into the cloak, keyed into the spectrum that Harry suspected was enchanted into his glasses, as well as Moody's 'all seeing eye'.

Presently, though, the cloak, sans generator, should have been impervious to normal sight. Sighing, he realized that 'normal' was not a word one could ever use to describe Luna.

"Hello Luna!", Harry murmured so only she could hear him. She smiled that mysterious smile that drove others batty, wondering what was on her mind.

"Hello Harry Potter!", she whispered. "Follow me!" Turning, the petite blonde led the way to a shadowed corner of the platform, ignoring their fellow students as they bustled about the platform, determined to get themselves and their belongings loaded on the Express before the designated departure time.

With them both safely out of sight, Luna turned to Harry and deftly swept the cloak from his body, before neatly rolling it up and stowing it in her purse. Harry was about to protest, before realizing the futility of it. Luna's knowledge of the world went far beyond his ken, and he just smiled his crooked grin at her, green eyes twinkling. "Some day you're going to have to explain how you do that!"

In answer, Luna raised on elegant eyebrow in a manner that caused a localized blood-pressure spike in Harry's body. With the coy smile she was directing at him, he shook his head bemusedly.

"You know what you're doing to me, right?", Harry asked, meeting her look squarely.

"Of course, Harry. Why else would I be acting as I am?", Luna answered, her smile giving way to a smirk. With that she stepped closer to Harry. So close that he could feel the soft curves of her very womanly body, causing his own to respond in a manner not befitting their location on a very public train station platform.

"Luna!", Harry growled, feeling his body's response. He caught her small, elegant hands as they were lovingly brushing over his chest in a very distracting way.

"Yes, Harry?", she questioned, her eyes rising to meet his. Harry was nearly swept away in her gaze, as she looked at him openly, with none of her usual 'out-there' in her look.

Harry, for years, had always been distracted by the challenges in his everyday life. He'd noticed girls, of course, but had determined that any pursuit of them would just end badly, at least until he was free of the pursuit of Tom Riddle and his Death Eaters. Now, free from that part of his life, he was able to fully appreciate the woman pressing herself against him.

"She isn't just good-looking", Harry thought to himself. "She is breathtaking beautiful!" His heart thumped, slightly out of rhythm, as he gazed down at the petite blonde. Her face was almost pixie-like, with high cheekbones sweeping down to a delicately pointed chin. Her hair and eyebrows were so purely blonde as to be deemed almost devoid of colour. Yet it glowed in the diffuse light of the corner they were secluded in.

Her body, hidden by the bulky robe, also felt deliciously feminine, and his was responding entheusiastically. Not to be outdone by her forwardness, Harry arched an eyebrow at her, and smiled his crooked half-grin. He'd overheard girls talking about his smile, and the effect it had on some of them, and was rewarded as he felt the woman pressing herself against him tremble.

"Not fair!", she protested, and slapped him lightly on the chest. Her cheeks, normally milky white, bore a faint flush. Stepping back from his embrace, Luna's hands unconsciously straightened her robes, meeting his gaze boldly.

"Now is not the time for that, Harry Potter!", she admonised, shaking a finger at him. Her bemused smile told him that while protesting vocally, she was far from upset. "We have much to discuss and plan for, with the changes that are coming."

Harry too, shifted himself, adjusting his clothing where it had suddenly become unbearingly tight. Luna noticed, and smiled. "We might have time to deal with that later though!", she half-promised, eliciting a groan from her companion.

"So you say!", Harry protested. It was going to be a long day. "Let's go and discuss what you, ahh, 'discovered'", he finished, offering Luna his arm.

"Thank you, kind sir!", she beamed up at him. Taking his arm, there was a momentary displacement of air, and only a small 'pop' gave any evidence that Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood had ever been on the platform at all.

Hogsmeade- The Shrieking Shack

Luna looked around in mild disgust at the ramshackle interior of the run down building. With a sigh, she pulled her wand swiftly from behind her ear, and begain a long series of wand movements that began clearing the dust from nearby surfaces. Holes in the walls repaired themselves, windows opened and the detritus of years of neglect flew out the opening. Several minutes later, satisfied with her work, she delicately seated herself on one of the newly repaired chairs.

Amused at his 'friends' actions, Harry pulled out the chair opposite her and sat, waiting for her to begin.

Meeting Harry's eyes, Luna started. "Harry, you know that I have a bit of the Sight?", she asked. At his nod, she continued. "Well, what that really means is that I see 'possibilities'. Do you understand?"

Harry mulled it over for a minute. "Possible future outcomes, depending on present actions", he theorized, and was rewarded with a brilliant smile. "It's why you always seem distracted."

Luna sighed, dropping her gaze to the tabletop. Her fingers idly reached out and played with one of the gouges on it's surface. Harry gulped, inside, realizing that the now dead Remus Lupin had probably made that when he was a teenager, transformed into his cursed werewolf self.

"Yes. It saddens me sometimes, and has made it very difficult for me to really interact with others." Luna looked up, and her eyes were somewhat misty. "Except you! Since Riddle's downfall, you are, somewhat, the centre of a malestrom. The calm in the eye of a storm."

Harry's eyebrows raised, surprised. "Calm? Me? Are you sure?"

Luna nodded, smiling. "I spent half the summer in meditation, trying to scry my future. No matter where I looked, there you were. You are the pivotal point around which all our futures coalesce and turn."

Harry groaned, slumping forward, letting his head bang against the table top. "Not again!", he groaned. Before he could fall too far into his melodramatic self-pity, he felt Luna's fingers twining themselves into his hair, delicately massaging the nape of his neck. It felt so good he sighed in contentment, forgetting her words at her fingers ministrations.

"Don't worry Harry. I'm here for you, and I have some ideas!", Luna reassured him. Twisting his head sideways he saw her watching him, amusement glimmering in her look.

"Think this is funny, don't ya!", Harry groused. All he got was a laugh, as she looked at him...lovingly, was the only word he could find that would explain that look.

"You have feelings for me?", Harry questioned, a little surprised.

Luna had the grace to blush. It made her even more beautiful, and desirable, if his body's reaction was any indication.

"Since the DA", she confessed, refusing to look away from his brilliant green eyes. "I wasn't too sure if anything could happen, between Hermione and Ginny monopolizing your time."

At the mention of the only other two women in his life, Harry's eyes darkened. Hermione, his confidant and brilliant friend was now too hormonally distracted to be of any use to him, and Ginny was still wallowing in miserable despair after the loss of Fred.

"Well, lay it on me!", Harry said, driving the thoughts of the other girls from his mind with a purpose. "Your plans!", he added, at the coy grin Luna was giving him.

"Oh, poo!", she huffed. "Fine!" For the next several hours the two discussed and planned, stopping only momentarily for refreshments retrieved from Luna's voluminous handbag.

Checking their watches, they realized the train would be pulling into Hogsmeade station any minute. Quickly gathering their things, they apparated onto the platform, and hid themselves under Harry's cloak. Feeling her body pressing into his, as they hid, Harry thought to himself, "I'm definitely glad I got that letter, before I left and did something I'd regret!"

Without a pause, Luna reached behind her and patted his cheek gently. "I know, Harry. I know!"

Unable to stop his chuckle at how easily this strange and wonderful woman was able to read him, the pair had to suddenly stifle their giggles when the gleaming steam locomotive came into view, chugging into it's resting place at the station platform.

As the students disembarked, Harry and Luna quickly slipped off the cloak, and with it stuffed back into Luna's handbag, intermingled with the crowd, as if they had been on the train all along. It was only moments before Harry spotted his bushy-haired female friend and her stupified boy-toy in tow made a beeline for them as soon as she spotted Harry's telltale messy hair in the crowd.

"Harry!", she greeted him, a worried look on her face. "Where have you been. I looked everywhere on the train for you."

"Not everywhere", Luna answered, the lie coming easily from her lips. "We cloaked a compartment so Harry could have some privacy. We both figured between prefect duties and each other you wouldn't be too put out with not having us around!" Hermione had the grace to blush, and Ron went 'Weasley Red' in embarassment.

"Well, yeah, mate. Just wanted to catch up, is all", he muttered, running his hand through his hair, yet not denying what they'd obviously gotten up to on their own. The pair had slightly disheveled clothes, and one too many of Hermione's shirt buttons were undone.

With Hermione prattling on about nothing, the four quickly found a carriage being shared by Neville and Hannah. As the group chatted about nothing, Harry found himself meeting Neville's eyes, and the blond haired man raised a questioning eyebrow at how closely Luna was sitting next to Harry. Harry smiled, shrugged, and nodded. Neville answered the look with a small smile of his own, before tipping his head in Hermione's direction. At the slight head shake, he nodded, before taking Hannah's hand in his own, their fingers intertwining in a lover's clasp.

Harry nodded his approval, and the two sole survivors of their respective families settled into the quiet acknowledgement of the other's choices. Such is the way of men. Luna met Hannah's quering look, a small smile on her face. At the look Hannah beamed, her eyes darting between Harry and Luna. Some conclusion seemed to be reached in the depths of her female mind, and she nodded in approval.

Several weeks later, Hermione Granger, with Ron Weasley in tow, was frustrated. "Where is he?", she groused.

"Hermione, he's a grown man now. He doesn't need to check in with you constantly. We've got our lives, and now he has his", Ron answered, before zipping his mouth shut at her look of exasperation.

"We've always been together, just the three of us!", she complained. Ron, wisely for a change, didn't voice his suspicions. He figured Harry had a girlfriend now, and was quietly pursuing his own life, as he'd always wanted. Telling that to his headstrong, and if he admitted it, control freak of a girlfriend was not in his own best interests, and so on his father's sage advice simply kept his big mouth shut.

The object of Hermione's quest was ensconsced with his new 'girlfriend/advisor/confidant' in the safest, most obscure part of Hogwarts. The Chamber of Secrets.

Since their arrival at the school, Luna had given Harry the task of learning wizarding culture. He was seated in a comfortable armchair, bluebell flames hovering over his head, as he read of the world he had had the fortune of being a part of. Luna, as Harry was studying, was busy cleaning, after spending a week butchering the remains of the basilisk that had been untouched since Harry had slain it in his second year.

"Really, Harry!", she'd exclaimed upon seeing the beast. "Do you not have any idea how valuable that thing is?" Without waiting for an answer, she sat down, and penned a quick letter, before demanding Harry send it to Gringott's.

Recognizing her brilliance, Harry had unquestioningly sent the letter, and within a day had gotten a response. It was a detailed, graphic, representation of how the goblins wanted the creature butchered and prepared. After it was done they would broker the parts worldwide, for the standard 10 percent handling fee, of course.

With it's remains gone, she'd commenced scouring the floors, walls, and columns until all residue from it's existance had disappeared. The former green lamps now glowed with a soft white light, Salazar's charms broken, with Harry's help because they were in parseltongue. Harry now had a study area where he could indoctrinate himself in wizarding custom, laws, and manners, as he readied himself to bring himself before the Wizengamot.

Once a week, Neville and Hannah accompanied them down here, for Neville to grill Harry with series of questions and possible scenarios. Hannah, a half-blood, having no knowledge of the culture to the level of Neville, as a pureblood, had, worked with Luna until the area was deemed 'comfortable' by the two young women.

It was nearing December before Neville deemed Harry ready enough to stand before the Wizengamot and claim his seat.

"So, we'll do this over the break, yeah?", Harry asked, pleased at Neville's compliments on his knowledge.

"We both have to Harry. The Longbottoms have sworn fealty to the Potters. At your declaration of wishing to fill your seats, on acceptance by the Wizengamot, our family alliance must be renewed in front of witnesses." The former scion of Longbottom answered, a half smile on his face. "Together, we command or can command a full third of the voting seats."

Harry sat back, a look of stupification on his face.

"So all along, if I'd had the knowledge, I could have blocked those Death Eater bastards, and their crazy laws?", he asked, receiving a nod in answer. "Damn him!", he cursed, referring to the former Headmaster.

Shaking his head in frustration at his past, he sighed. No matter how he viewed Dumbledore's actions, they made even less sense now. "The final steps is to convince Susan Bones to renew their fealty, then?", he asked.

Neville chuckled, and Harry swivelled his gaze to his friend. Hannah spoke for him. "It'll be pretty easy Harry. She's carried a torch for you for years!" At his gobsmacked expression, the two women and Neville fell into side stitching laughter. Every woman at Hogwarts knew how inept Harry was with the females of the species, and had delighted in tormenting him with subtle hints and innuendos for years.

"So that lollipop thing she always did...?"

"Was just for you, Harry. Just for little, old you!", Hannah snickered.

"Damn!", Harry swore, his eyes glazing in reminiscence. At which point he received a smack on the back of his head. His head turned, meeting the questioning look on his lover's face. "Sorry, dear!", he apologized, not meaning one word of it, and he knew that she knew what was going through his mind.

Luna, not so subtly, ran her hands over the curve hugging shirt and jeans she was wearing, blatently meeting his look. "Need I remind you of which side your bread is buttered on?"

His body still ached a bit from their frolicking the night before. At the memory of what had taken place in the privacy of their 'love nest' hidden in the corner of the chamber, he emphatically shook his head. "No need. Most definitely, no need at all!", he declared. At this point Neville was laughing so hard tears were running down his face, while Hannah giggled, her chest shaking in a rather distracting way.

"Hey!", Harry protested at the ribbing he was receiving. Neville, gasping as he regained some of his composure, held up his hands in protest.

"I already learned my lesson Harry. Your's had to happen sooner or later!" With a 'hmmph' of agreement, Luna settled herself in Harry's lap, snuggling into him. With an unconscious thought, his arms wrapped themselves around the petite blonde, and he sighed in contentment.

"Never knew life could be this good, mate!", he declared, meeting Neville and Hannah's eyes. The pair were smiling at the snuggling couple.

"That it is Harry", Neville agreed, his hand seeking and finding Hannah's. The brilliant gleam of her engagement ring glimmered in the soft light. "We're about to take the world by storm, and the best part is, they don't even realize it!"

**********************************************************************************It was weeks later, before the realization of what Harry, Luna, Neville, and Hannah, with other families that had ancestral fealty to both families, hit the wizarding world.

Harry was now a full Lord, bearing both Potter and Black names. With the assorted families sworn to uphold their ancestral fealty of sworn support, the two young men swept into the spotlight, seeking uplifting changes and betterment for all of society.

Laws against 'creatures', were, if not outright repealed, changed for the betterment of the various races.

With Luna's brilliance, Harry was able to give moving speaches, often swaying otherwise staunch opposition to such changes.

The photo's of the couples graced the pages of multiple issues of the Daily Prophet, often taking their classmates by surprise. None could figure out where and how the odd Ravenclaw Luna Lovegood squirreled her way into Harry's life, but they also couldn't deny the impact she had on the formerly moody boy.

Harry strode through the halls of Hogwarts with confidence, and was often seen welcoming ministry personnell, before ushering them to private meeting rooms.

Minerva MacGonagall and the assorted Hogwarts professors looked on with beaming pride as the "Boy Who Lived", grew into the "Man Who Changed Society".

Hermione Weasley, nee Granger, with her husband Ron, had to quietly watch from the sidelines as their former best friend swept into mainstream wizarding society, taking it by storm.

Frustrated, she sought answers in books, before finally succumbing to the realization that in her life, she'd probably never be able to accomplish a tenth of what Harry had.

Voicing her frustrations, as she looked on yet another picture of Harry and Luna Potter, the telltale bulge of the couple's first child showing, she finally received the answer she'd been looking for.

"Hermione, dear", said Molly Weasley, glancing at her husband to remain quiet. "You could never have helped Harry, or even been a part of this", she gestured to the picture.

Hermione looked up at her mother-in-law, startled. "What do you mean?", she demanded. "I worked like a slave for years to be the best and brightest! Why couldn't I?"

Arthur cleared his throat in embarassment before speaking. "It's wizarding culture, Hermione. A witch can only climb so high in society or government. Her status is entirely dependent on her husbands social standing." At her expression of dawning mortification, he elaborated. "The Weasley's are an old family, yes, but we're not one of the founding families. We'll never be anything more than middle class. Since Ron is no genius", he shot his son an apologetic look, who just shrugged in acknowledgement of something he'd always known, "you'll only be, at best, a Junior Undersecretary, if that", he explained.

"But...Madame Bones...", Hermione stuttered, protesting this unfairness.

"She's an exception. She was one of the last Bones'. As Susan, last of the family, was her charge, and niece, she was viewed as the 'Head' of the family. As such, she was viewed as an exception. Had her husband still been alive, she'd never have been offered the position of Minister, no matter how brief her tenure was."

At that, Hermione's brain shut down, her eyes filling with unshed tears.

For years she'd harboured a secret crush on Harry, before resigning herself that with his fame, family money, and his name, she'd forever be in his shadow. With Ron, she thought she stood the chance of letting her own achievements speak for themselves. Now, she was just informed, that no matter what she did, she'd never rise above mediocrity

It was years later, before Harry and Luna ever heard of Hermione again, and it was just a footnote in an American journal expounding on recent achievements in magical advances.

Luna sat, rubbing her swelling belly, where their fourth child was growing quite nicely. In the background she could hear the squeals of their three older children as their father chased them around the yard.

Her eyes returned to the magazine article:

"It is with great sadness that the American Society of Magical Advancements wishes to inform it's readers of the tragic death of one of it's most brilliant researchers. Hermione Granger (Weasley). In attempting a dangerous but well-researched spell creation, was caught in the spell's backlash as the rune array had apparently been contaminated. Forensic investigation has revealed that, for unknown reasons, had been attempting time travel on a scale that has never been seen before. Arithmancy calculations plot the time as being roughly fifteen years prior to today's date. None of her coworkers were aware of any significance of this date, or it's importance, and questions remain why the normally brilliant would try to do something of this magnitude."

"Fifteen years, hmmm? Sixth year? Probably when Harry and Hermione were alone in the tent on the horcrux hunt." Humming to herself, Luna rose gracefully, smiling out the window as she stoked up the fireplace, before tossing the magazine and it's article into the flames.

"He's mine, and I'm his, Hermione", she whispered into the flames, her eyes watching the fire devour the paper. "Our love cannot be broken, no matter how brilliant you thought you were!"

At that declaration, Luna Potter wandered outside to sit and watch the only man who'd ever understood her, and wanted her just the way she was. Harry raised his brilliant green gaze, meeting the eyes of his beautiful wife of the past twelve years. He stopped chasing the children for a moment, and wandered over, dropping to his haunches, his hand coming to rest on top of hers on her swollen belly.

"You feeling okay, my love?", he asked, kissing her lips gently.

"Never better, Harry Potter. Never better!", Luna answered him, a coy, knowing smile on her lips.