A/N: Runa shipping from Ron's perspective. And I don't own HP.

I'm a bonehead. I can't believe I didn't notice Hermione is actually a very pretty girl underneath that mass of frizzy hair, especially since she shrunk those huge beaver chompers she used to have. I suppose it's because she's my friend that I didn't notice her as a girl, and it's true that compared to Fleur, Hermione is very plain, but she's far from ugly. For one small moment, I thought she'd be the answer to everything. Harry didn't have a date, I didn't have a date, and Hermione didn't have a date, so the three of us could all go stag together, and Hermione could help Harry out with that whole 'champion dance' thing. Then the three of us could stand in a corner, enjoy the food and the music, and laugh at all the other idiots around us. It would have been perfect.

Never did I think that Hermione would have a date. I swear, I really thought she turned Neville down just because he's a forgetful klutz. And then Ginny, who is borderline obsessive about Harry – and who I swear would have begged me to ask him for her before going with anyone else – turned up and I thought, there she'll finally get her wish, and it turns out she has a date as well. I suppose it makes sense that she'd go with anyone who asked her because she's only a third year, but still! Neville! Neville can get a date and I can't? What is the world coming to...

So here I am, the day before the dance, having embarrassed myself enough to keep my face red for the rest of my life after losing my mind around Fleur who is apparently part veela (thanks Harry, though it doesn't make me feel any better), and I am actually contemplating just sitting the dance out. No big deal... It'll only add to my embarrassment at being the only fourth year who didn't go.

At least Harry had a plan. He cornered Parvati and Lavender, but only managed to secure a date for himself. I saw him glance back at me, so I'm sure he was trying to convince them on my behalf, but it clearly wasn't working. Girls have it so easy – they can always get a date, and guys like me are stuck sucking lemons. It was at that moment that I got truly, truly desperate.

I went to ask my little sister for help.

Now I figured that Ginny would know at least one other fellow third year who'd be desperate enough to go to the Yule Ball that she'd even be willing to go with me. Ginny seemed to have a lot of friends: one was bound to help me out. As long as she's pretty, because it's a deal-breaker if she's not.

Now, Ginny's one of those really irritating people who lords favors over you. That twisted impish smile told me that someday she was going to cash in this favor and I wouldn't like whatever it was when it came. Or that she was going to choose the worst girl possible, but frankly I didn't care if the girl was Malfoy's sister (if he had one) as long as she was pretty enough to make me look good, which was bound to be difficult considering the state of my dress robes. Honestly though, I knew Ginny would come through for me, and hopefully I won't regret what she wants me to do later.

So here it is, the night of the big ball, and I don't know whether to be mad or thrilled that my dress robes have gone missing. The only thing left of them is the neck piece, but I have no idea how I'm supposed to wear it if I'm stuck in my uniform robes. Over the top or underneath perhaps? But the robes would never... hey! What the?

Someone modified my uniform: well, to be more precise, they modified one of Percy's old uniforms so the thing is the right length for once, and the ruffled neck- thing fits down perfectly underneath. Ok, so Ginny is the best sister in the whole world, and I have no idea how she pulled this off, but DAMN! I look pretty good. No one will tease me now, not even if I still end up going stag.

I walked down with Harry to the entrance hall, looking around for Ginny. Before I could say Hippogriff, Parvati grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him off to mingle. In another moment he was lost in the crowd, and I doubted that he'd ever get away. I spotted Cedric and Cho, ducked behind a column when Fleur wandered by, and then did a double take at who was with Krum: Hermione?

Well, that was unexpected. What a famous quidditch player would see in a type "A" bookworm, I don't know, but whatever – I'm happy for her, I guess. Maybe now I stood a chance at getting Krum's autograph. Or at least a chance of asking Hermione to get it for me. I wonder if I should try to talk to her now or wait until later?

"You're Ron Weasley," said a dreamy voice from behind me, but it wasn't a question.

"Yeah, that's me," I replied as I turned around. The girl I was facing was blond, with large blue eyes made larger by the fact that she seemed caught in a state of perpetual surprise. Interestingly though, the expression didn't make her lose any beauty. It kind of added a nice innocence and sincerity to her otherwise quirky appearance. She was wearing what looked like radish earrings, a necklace made of butterbeer corks and... my dress robes?!

I shook my head once and tried not to stare. This girl was wearing the rest of the brown, frilly dress robes that had once been my hand-me-downs, but again they'd been modified. I remember thinking when I first saw them that they'd look better on a girl, and I was right. I couldn't help but analyze the alterations – sleeveless, additional layers on the bottom to make it more dress-like, and a pink sash – and the end effect (though it reminded me of a cupcake) wasn't bad. The girl was a solid eight and I was just glad that she didn't seem at all bothered by my scrutiny. In fact, she was staring at me in much the same way, though I noticed that she was staring at me rather than my clothes.

"They're quite lovely," she said, interrupting my thoughts.

"Sorry, what?"

"The fairy footprints on your face." She stepped closer, still staring intensely, her blue eyes clear as cut sapphires and deeper than the sea. I felt my face get hot. "It's like a dance," she continued, her dreamy voice light, "though the song was over a long time ago."

I had no idea what she was talking about, but at the same time, I didn't really care. She was awfully close to me, which was new, but not unpleasant. And she smelled good.

"Luna," she said, and after a moment I realized she had held out her hand.

"Oh, nice to meet you, Luna," I said quickly, praying that my palms weren't sweaty.

"Ginny said that her brother needed a trophy on his arm."

If I'd have had a drink, I would've done a spit-take. Ginny was not supposed to tell the girls she asked that! I was wondering how mortified I was allowed to feel at that moment when Luna continued.

"I told her that I could make you one, but that finding a way to attach it might prove difficult. It would really depend on the materials."

I couldn't help it, I laughed. After assuring her that I did not need an actual arm trophy, Luna wrapped her arm around mine and we made our way into the Great Hall. The place was amazing, with a dozen Christmas Trees and a bunch of small circular tables instead of the four, long house tables. I let Luna steer me over to the table with Ginny and Neville. I figured that Luna would want to be close to someone she knew.

When I got close enough I noticed that Ginny was wearing a set of very sleek, silver dress robes that looked brand new. "What the?!" I couldn't contain my surprise. I remembered when she got her robes, and they were a pink floral pattern with tons of ruffles and a huge stain across the lower part of the skirt. I looked from Ginny to Luna and back again trying to figure out what had happened.

"Evening, Ron," Ginny just quipped back with a huge smile on her face. "Hi Luna, this is Neville Longbottom; Neville this is Luna Lovegood. She's a third year Ravenclaw."

"Hello," Luna commented thoughtfully. "Ginny, you look wonderful. Doesn't she, Ron?"

"Yeah, Ron, what do you think?" Ginny was taunting me.

"Er, yeah," I managed. I was still confused though. Where had Ginny gotten the money to buy a new set of dress robes?

"Lovegood?" Neville asked as he shook Luna's hand. "The fellow who writes the Quibbler?"

"That's right," Luna said in that dreamy voice of hers. I was really enjoying the sound of Luna's voice because it sounded so thoughtful, so hopeful. Hermione was always so bossy that even when she was being nice, her voice was still crisp. "Daddy is always so pleased to know that others know his work," Luna was saying. "He is in Romania now, following the trail of the elusive Dragon Stealers, but he will be back home in a month or so: unless he gets a lead on the Zimmering Humdinger, or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

I didn't know what kind of creatures those were, but they sounded interesting. "Hey, if your father writes a paper, do you think you could get him to write about the Tournament? I bet loads of people would want to read better articles than the lies that Rita Skeeter woman writes."

"That's a great idea, Ron," Ginny said – no sarcasm – and looked at Luna expectantly. I was a bit shocked.

Luna hummed to herself for a moment, intent on crumpling her napkin in to a pleasing shape, that for a moment she didn't speak at all. If I couldn't see that she was concentrating on something else, I would have thought she was ignoring me, but since she wasn't, I waited as patiently as I could. Neville and Ginny exchanged glances. It was at that time that the spotlight hit the dance floor and the four champions started off the dancing for the night.

Luna's napkin had solidified into a swan during the champion's dance. It was only after I had seen Harry race back to his table when the dance ended that Luna finally spoke. "The Quibbler doesn't have reporters on staff. Many of the stories are submitted by the readers. I suppose if anyone wanted to write about the Tournament and submit an entry, Daddy might consider publishing it." She turned her attention to Ginny for a moment. "It seems like just the thing the 'Harry Potter Fan Club' would be good at. Though I suspect you will need someone to help edit for you."

Ginny turned a bright pink, though all she said was, "I don't know what you're talking about."

I laughed at her. "You started a fan club? You can barely squeak out three words around Harry. Who else is in it?"

"Let's dance," Ginny demanded, jumping to her feet and practically dragging Neville with her.

I laughed a bit more at the absurdity of a 'Harry Potter Fan Club' until I realized that Luna was staring at me again. She hadn't said anything during my chuckling, but only when I stopped did I realize that we were the only ones left at the table. I mean, I knew that – because Ginny and Neville had gone off to dance – but it hadn't fully registered. Maybe Luna was waiting for me to ask her to dance? I gulped. "Um... er..." I managed to stutter.

"You're having a wrackspurt infestation, but don't worry, it will pass."

I don't know why, but I smiled. "What are wrackspurts?"

"Tiny creatures that swarm in and make your brain go fuzzy. It's common."

"I feel that way all the time during History of Magic and Divination."

"Oh yes, the History of Magic classroom appears to be an epicenter for wrackspurts. There must be a portal or perhaps a hive there. Everyone has complained about it."

"Did you ever think that maybe everyone is just bored?"

"That could be it too, though with a world as amazing as ours, with so much to see and do, it seems unlikely that anyone could ever possibly be bored. No, I believe it must be the wrackspurts. It's the most probable explanation."

I chuckled again, trying to picture a wrackspurt portal, but I was also impressed with Luna's insight. It was truly unique, and I was pleasantly surprised to find someone with a deeper appreciation of the wonders of life, rather than the depressing realities. It was another striking difference between Luna and Hermione.

"You have a nice laugh," Luna said.

I felt my face get warm again. "Thanks," I managed to reply. Ginny and Neville still hadn't come back from dancing and I wasn't sure what to do. My mum's voice echoed in my head, scolding me for my lack of manners and I finally decided that I had better ask Luna to dance if only to get my internal voice to shut up.

"Um, Luna would you like to – ?" It was then that I noticed that, in the moment I had taken to get my thoughts in order, Luna had walked out to the center of the dance floor and was dancing alone. She looked a little odd waltzing with an invisible partner, but it made me smile. Some of the others were gawking at her though – whispering, staring, and pointing – and I was hit with a sudden desire to protect her from them. Even though I had only known her less than an hour I knew that she was special: she didn't deserve to ridiculed. In that moment I knew what I had to do.

I marched right out to her, ignoring the whispers as best I could and trying not to let my anger at their behavior cloud my face. I didn't want Luna to think I was mad at her because I wasn't. I tapped her on the shoulder and waited politely for her to excuse herself from her imaginary partner. When she turned to me, I bowed, and then held out my hand. Which she took with a brilliant smile.

It was amazing how easy it was to dance with her to be honest. In fact, I wasn't even feeling self-conscious or anything, though just a moment before I was sure that I was too tall for my body and that I was bound to do something stupid and embarrass myself (again). But Luna's serene confidence in herself and total disregard for anyone else's opinions of her made me feel better about just being myself – I had always felt the need to compare myself to others, and I realized that maybe I didn't need to do that.

Luna and I talked, laughed, and danced until midnight. She didn't complain about my eating habits, she explained Snigglywogs and Persiamendis, and she laughed at my jokes. We eventually parted ways once we reached the seventh floor, and just before she left, she gave me a light kiss on my cheek. I must have turned at red as my hair, but all she did was smile and thank for me a wonderful evening. Then I watched her skip away – yes skip – down the corridor until she turned left out of sight.

As I fell asleep, I remember thinking that anything Ginny asked of me would be worth it.