A/N:

This is the first chapter of my new HP story, Fleeting! Just a heads-up: POV changes!, so hopefully knowing that will help keep you from getting confused. Enjoy! xoxo.

Readings

I was always fascinated by her eyes. I know, I know, it's cliché, but it's true. They were exquisite, appearing to be made of glass—so pale and delicate it felt like I should be able to see right through them into her skull and head and brain. Gladly, I could not.

The other thing was how completely unique they were. They appeared to be green from a normal distance, but up close you could see they were baby blue, with silver of gold around each of her pupils. They gave merely the illusion of green, the illusion of matching the rest of her huge family. But she didn't match. She was different.

I envied her for her family. I think it might have been part of why I felt that way about her.

I've kind of always had an eye fetish, however creepy it sounds. It was the first thing I noticed about a person. I found meaning in eyes, and although I had no social skills to speak of, eyes just... made sense to me?

Dark indigo, mysterious, dreamy and calm. Always hiding, holding back.

Pale grey, simple, peaceful, and sweet. Easy to read and soothing to see.

The green, the noble, self-doubting green, the envied green.

And lastly, gold-and-blue, radiant, confident, and unpredictable, but unfailingly steadfast and kind.

You might wonder why I was so close to her to begin with, close enough to notice that about her eyes. You might make assumptions. Well your guesses are partly right, in the sense that yes—we kissed—but you're not quite as right as I wish you were.

The story starts in my third year, and…well, I suppose I'll let you know when it's finished.

It's a long story, but I have time if you do.

I used to notice the way he looked at Luna. It was precious. I knew they'd make an adorable couple, and I told him so. But he was always too nervous to say anything, and she was so off in her own little world, it was almost as if she'd never considered the prospect of dating.

I confronted her about it—it turned out you could get away with a great deal of nosiness when everyone thought of you as their friend's little sister (especially the ones you really didn't want to, cough, cough). And if I widened my eyes, and pouted my lips just a TEENSY bit? Anything I wanted to know, I knew.

Hermione told me she liked Ron all the way back in my first year. Course, I wasn't much up for any matchmaking at that point, but hey—HARRY didn't even know. I suppose that's not a good argument; there's a lot Harry didn't know.

Like how when I saw him looking at her with her long, swishing, stick-straight dark hair, it's possible that I might have wanted to curse her just a little bit. Unforgivably so, if you catch my drift.

I'm over it now obviously; we laugh about it. I tell him he never stood a chances with her, and he acts hurt and then laughs and kisses me.

What was I talking about? Right, Luna! So, I confronted her about the Neville thing. It was funny, her reaction. It wasn't surprise, or disgust, or disinterest—she definitely seemed interested. Maybe she wasn't allowed to date yet? It would explain a lot, and I wouldn't put it past ol' Xenophilius, either.

Merlin, though, if I were in Luna's place….well, I would have been permanently grounded! I mean, we were both in our third year already!

See, I hadn't told anyone but Hermione yet (to avoid risk of a murder by six mysterious red-headed figures), but I had gone out with Michael Corner the week before. It was just a date, we weren't dating (although Michael was my second choice as a Yule Ball date—I was looking for any opportunity to get to go).

Still... I was a little disappointed that we didn't run into Harry during our romantic little Hogsmeade excursion. I would have wanted to see his reaction: was he jealous? Should I keep trying? Or did he even care? Would I have to get over my silly schoolgirl crush?

It wouldn't have been too hard at the time—I suppose I did fancy Michael a bit, and certainly did a year later. Things almost worked out between us, but let's just say I've been much happier with the current arrangement. One might even call it being in love.

Blimey, bringing up all these schoolgirl crushes has really made me notice how much Rose and Lily have turned me into my 13-year-old self again. I can barely contain myself nowadays when they tell me who's dating who, or why Suzy's fighting with Sally, or whose mother sent him a Howler, or what the names of the fittest seventh-year Hufflepuffs are.

It's fun, I suppose, remembering those days. I always remember how fun they were. But when I really think about all the pettiness and our "pain," I realize it was a prelude to the real pain. Still, teenage hormones never allowed anything to be simple.

What am I blabbering on for? The Luna thing. Crikes, that was ages ago. If I remember correctly, the conversation took place in the classroom of none other than Sybil Trelawney. It's funny how I actually kind of miss her. (I always stuck with Divination, though I was rather horrid at it—I'm ashamed to admit it was a bit of a blow-off class.) She still teaches at Hogwarts; Lily's in her class—she practically begged to take it. Hermione disapproved strongly, having forbid Rose and Hugo from taking it, but we weren't quite that opposed.

It was Luna who got Lily so interested in Divination to begin with. She always had a knack for it, and was the only one who maintained that Trelawney was completely sane. Maybe Divination really is real, and the rest of us just don't get it. It would explain a lot about the pair of them, that's for sure.

We had just finished our lessons on crystal balls. It was a lengthy couple of weeks; I just stared and stared and saw things. Professor Trelawney spent the whole while lecturing, because rather oddly, no one else seemed to be seeing anything at all (beyond what they thought to be a cloud, which happened every blink of a Nargle or so). I didn't know why, but I saw loads of things, and every time I tilted the glass so much as a wrackspurt's eyelash, I saw loads more. Loads about Harry.

I saw something about everything, really. My future, too. It was nice, not having to worry, because I knew it would all be all right. Divination really is a lovely gift. I believe it's quite underappreciated. Professor Trelawney said I could be a Seer, if I wanted.

I was always the last to leave the classroom. By the time I finished with everything I'd seen, the next class had arrived, with several students waiting to take my table. It was a class of Gryffindors my age; Ginny was one of them. It was a rather small class—most Gryffindors didn't seem to be particularly fond of Divination, though I've not an inkling why.

She stopped me as I was finally leaving the room.

'Luna,' she hissed. 'Stay a minute longer. I need to talk to you.'

I glanced at the small hourglass hanging around my neck. The periwinkle sand was severely imbalanced between the two chambers.

'I have Potions now,' I told her. 'But I don't believe it'll be a problem. Professor Snape is so accommodating, I'm sure he'll understand.'

Ginny scrunched up her eyes for a minute, then moved her shoulders up and down in a quick gesture which I didn't quite understand. I sat next to her.

'Hello,' I told the other boy and girl at the table. They widened their eyes politely in return.

'So, Luna.' Ginny leaned in close, her dragon-breath hair falling in front of her face. 'Neville. What do you think of him?'

Neville. He was a very nice boy, an excellent friend of mine.

'Well, I suppose I think of him on occasion, but not to a great extent. I believe I'm rather fond of him,' I told her.

Ginny looked up at the ceiling, her eyes swirling in a rather strange fashion. I wasn't sure why she did it, because after a moment she looked right back at me. I suppose she didn't find what she was looking for up there. 'Luna, he likes you,' she said rather seriously.

I smiled, as it didn't seem so serious a matter to me, unless of course Neville was a crumple-horned snorkack, since they tend to brutally kill those they're particularly fond of. 'That's wonderful,' I told her. 'I like him, too. I suppose that means we're good mates.'

Ginny must have taken a very big breath, because all of a sudden she had lots of air to exhale and it made a rather noticeable noise. 'Luna. I mean he fancies you. He's interested in you. He has romantic feelings for you? A crush, Luna? He wants to date you. Snog you. He thinks it's possible that after a while, if you do end up dating, and things go well, he might fall in love with you, and if things continue to go well, you might get married and have kids and grow old together.' Ginny paused. 'In other words, he thinks of you as more than a "good mate".'

There was a kidney-mouthed crecion's heartbeat of silence. 'Well, I'm not sure what I think about that,' I said.

'Well, do you fancy him or not?'

I thought about that for a moment. The idea of dating or kissing or marrying Neville. It was a new idea. But not a bad one.

'Yes,' I told her. 'I suppose it's possible I might.'

'Really?' Ginny smiled rather widely, so that her mouth was a sideways crescent and I could see her teeth. There was a Furley's pixie nesting in her bottom-right molar.

'I believe so.'

'Well,' she began. 'is it all right if I tell him that? I mean, do you want him to ask you out?'

I thought a bit more. In particular, I thought about an image I'd seen in the crystal ball just a few minutes earlier.

It was myself, an older me. A man had his arm around me. My head was on his shoulder. In each of our laps was a rather plump, blond infant; the little boys appeared to be Gemini.

The man was nice-looking and smiling, and quite handsome, with short brown hair and big, dark eyes. I knew exactly who he was, and what he would mean to me. He wasn't Neville.

'I don't think so, Ginny.'

Ginny looked rather taken aback. 'What? Why not?'

'I don't see it,' I told her, rolling the glimmering sphere between my palms. 'It's'—I felt a bit like Lavender Brown or Cho Chang then—'not meant to be.'

Ginny's mouth hung wide open. 'You're going to let a piece of glass decide who you date?'

I remember I smiled at the time. 'It's not meant to be. Neville is a great friend of mine.' I believe she thought I was a bit mental.

I look over at my husband, currently preoccupied with the task of bundling Lorcan into a miniature parka. Lysander begins to bawl.

'Ly-Ly,' I croon, lifting him delicately. "Mummy's here, it's all right." I hand Roly a tiny blue hat embroidered with Nargles, then stretch a matching red on around Lysander's little head. We rush outside and collapse in the snow, which makes the Gemini giggle and crawl around excitedly. I tell Rolf that they are already well on the way to becoming quite excellent little marble-toothed cluntchey hunters, as the creatures love to hide in snow banks.

Funnily, but not strangely at all, the Gemini are Gemini. They were born the June before last.

The image I saw in the crystal ball that day is one I saw again two weeks ago, when we took the picture. It's to be our Christmas card this year.

Rolf wraps his arms around my waist and his lips fall softly on the top of my head.

I might have had feelings for Neville, but it was never meant to be.

A/N: Please review, I'd love to hear what you have to say!

~KaleidoscopeKate