A/N: This story is still a work in progress, but I wanted to get this chapter posted before Christmas as a present for AHighAndLonesomeSound, who adores Luna so very much.
Harry swirled the firewhiskey in his glass, watching as the light from the fireplace made the amber liquid seem to shift and change colors. He took a small sip as someone joined him on the sofa.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Luna asked without preamble. Despite her bluntness, her voice was gentle and curious without being intrusive. Harry sighed.
"I was talking to James earlier," he explained. "He's dating – well, he doesn't want me to say, but the point is, he has a girlfriend and he seems pretty serious about her. I've just overheard Lily discussing fit quidditch players with Rose and if Al hasn't asked Neville's daughter out by the end of the school year, I'll fly out to Azkaban and give Dolores Umbridge a great big kiss."
Luna laughed at that and Harry couldn't help but chuckle a little.
"My kids aren't kids anymore," he continued after another sip from his glass. "I guess I'm just feeling old."
"Congratulations."
Harry looked up at Luna, his expression blank. Slowly, a smile began to creep across his face. Soon, he was laughing.
"Luna, you're brilliant, you know that?" Harry exclaimed. "You're absolutely right. All of the times I nearly died as a kid and here I am moaning about getting older. I should be celebrating the fact that I get to be an old man. It's a privilege, isn't it?"
"Yes, I think so," Luna answered with a smile. "And if it makes you feel better, you've only gotten handsomer with age. The grey hair really suits you."
Harry couldn't help but blush.
"To another year of getting old," he said, raising the firewhiskey over his head. "With the best friends anyone could ever ask for."
Luna raised her own glass with a smile.
"Hear, hear!"