Circa 2008
She is lying under a lilac tree, her hair fanned out around her, a few purple blossoms caught in the tresses. He walks towards her purposefully, hands shoved deep into his pockets, but when she turns and her eyes meet his he forgets even his name as he falls into their silvery depths.
"Rolf," she calls, smiling up at him.
(Right, Rolf it is.)
"Luna," he replies, loving the feel of it rolling off his tongue.
She reaches out her hand, and he weaves his fingers through hers, sighing with contentment.
"How are the Blibbering Humdingers doing today?" he asks, smiling bemusedly at her bare feet and dirty toes.
"Oh quite well, as one would expect with all the rain we've been having." She shrugs and sits up, brushing the grass from her hair. "And how did the conversation with your grandfather go?"
He could sit and listen to her voice forever, high and wavering like wind through tree tops. "He said I would be a most welcome addition to his next expedition. We're going to Greece in search of Hippocampi, and... I asked him... would you...?"
"Greece is a very lovely place, I imagine," she murmurs, cheeks dimpling with her moonlight smile, "I'd love to go with you."
His heart is beating a hundred kilometers an hour in his chest and he thinks his face might split from the force of his happiness. She would go with him; she would love to go with him. Everything is falling into place.
"You know," he says, settling back with his arms bent behind his head, "You and your father never checked down south for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, maybe we'll have a sighting."
She lies down beside him, her face tipped towards the dappled sunlight, "Oh no Rolf, you must know by now that Snorkacks much prefer the cold; you see their coats are quite-"
With a quiet, throaty laugh he relaxes, relishing in her eccentricities and her closeness.
