Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter. I do not have any association with J.K. Rowling or the publishers and distributors of the Harry Potter books. I do not profit from writing fanfiction in any way.
With four rapid *cracks*, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione materialized out of thin air onto a narrow hill overlooking fields of crops, clucking chickens, and a shabby-looking broom shed. As the day was at an end, the gloomy sky above the fields of the Burrow was a solid smoky gray, so that the silhouette of the big Weasley home could be seen swaying ominously above the trees.
As the young quartet jogged down the end of the hill and walked across a small dirt trail that curved around a pond beside the Burrow, nearing the building's front door, they spotted a young man standing in the open doorway. Inside, the familiar tune of Celestina Warbeck's A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love was playing loudly.
"Hey, Neville," said Hermione as they arrived at the door.
"Hermione!" Neville turned around and stepped aside, revealing a young girl with the lower body of a horse. "Hello."
"Ron!" squeaked the girl. She galloped out of the house and enveloped Ron in a hug, her cinnamon-colored hair and orange Chudley Cannons shirt ruffling from the stiff breeze.
"Hey, Nora," whispered Ron soothingly, patting her back.
As the group warmly greeted the young centaur, Ron raised his chin and sniffed the scent of cooking meat. He wandered into his old home, offering Neville a greeting in the form of a pat on the shoulder in passing. When he entered the kitchen, he saw his mother frantically pacing back and forth, preparing several different meals at once.
"Need some help, mum?" asked Ron.
"Ronnie!" she exclaimed, smiling brightly. "Yes, thank you dear. If you could just peel those potatos - just there, behind you."
Ron tended to the potatos while Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Neville entered the room and each received both greetings and cooking assignments from Mrs. Weasley.
"What can I do?" asked Helinora, swishing her tail idly.
"Don't be silly, Nora," replied Mrs. Weasley while throwing a slab of meat over the fire; she had stopped calling Helinora 'dear' because of the centaur girl's insistence that she was in fact a centaur, and not a deer. "You've already done enough. I turn my back for one second and this girl runs off to hunt elk down by the stream with nothing but a rock!"
"Is that what this is?" asked Hermione, retrieving another chunk of meat.
"Yes." Helinora smiled. "Mrs. Weasley mentioned a big meal tonight for Looner's going-away party, so I wanted to help."
"Luna," corrected Neville from a counter adjacent to the pantry as he chopped carrots.
"I'm sorry." Helinora clopped into the other room, towards the sound of the radio.
"Where's dad?" asked Ron, now slicing potatos.
"Working late," said Mrs. Weasley. "With his new promotion comes new responsibility, of course."
"Did you hear about the Quidditch World Cup?" asked Harry, somewhat hopefully.
"Of course!" chuckled Mrs. Weasley. "You know Arthur considers the event to be of equal importance to the extermination of the Dementors. He and George chipped in for tickets."
"I'll chip in too," offered Harry, but Mrs. Weasley waved the notion off with a hand that clutched a large shiny knife.
"Nonsense," she said. "You're just starting out at your new home. When are you applying as Aurors?"
"Before the Quidditch World Cup," said Ron. He presented his mother with the plate of peeled and chopped potatos.
"I've already applied at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," said Hermione. "But I'm planning to go into Magical Law, after I've done some work for the House Elves. They're terribly underprivileged. In Magical Law I'm hoping to help the Muggleborns as the system is rather backwards even today."
"Really?" said Mrs. Weasley distractedly as she measured ingredients. "Well, you have this family's full support, I'll have you know. Arthur's thrilled that this family has taken on some Muggle blood."
"Thanks to you, I bet I'm dad's favorite," said Ron, smiling over his shoulder to Hermione, who suddenly became too interested in locating the salt to speak.
"You were already," said Harry. Ron raised an eyebrow. "I can tell. You're the most like Arthur, did you ever notice?"
"Now, Ron, we don't have favorites," said Mrs. Weasley, flipping the slab of elk meat over. "But, you are the most like your father. Don't tell him this, but I adore his fascination with Muggles, even find it rather cute. It's also genetic, apparently."
"I wonder if it's possible to die of blushing," said Ginny casually, observing Hermione's tomato-red cheeks.
"Oh, but I was talking about George," said Mrs. Weasley. "He's found himself a Muggle girl. He's been given a Ministry hearing for exposing Muggles to magic."
"Is he in trouble?" asked a teary-eyed Neville who was mincing onions.
"Oh, no, I don't think so," said Mrs. Weasley. "He's gained quite a bit of respect at the Ministry. Do ask him yourself, he's in the other room."
Harry peeked his head into the hallway. Through the doorway to the living room, a one-eared man with exhuberant red hair could be seen dancing wildly to the rhythm of Celestina Warbeck's music, much to the amusement of his companions, a tall black witch with braided hair and a grinning black wizard with short dreadlocks and a bandaged nose.
"What is it you're doing?" asked Lee.
"It's a Muggle dance - you've got to get into the mind of a robot."
"A what?"
"Oh, forget it - dance with me, Angelina!" sang George, swinging his arms like a monkey.
"I can't," she replied. "Safety reasons."
"Then you dance with me, Helinora!" cried George, stretching his arm out to the confused young centaur girl. "Dance the dance of - wait, who's here?"
George and his friends filed into the kitchen to investigate, tailed by Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson.
"Oh, it's just Harry Potter." George grinned. "No big deal."
"Angelina!" Hermione smiled brightly and embraced the tall witch in a hug. "It's been so long!"
"Are you staying for Luna's going-away dinner?" asked Ginny.
"Yeah," said Lee. "Though I hardly knew her, to be honest."
"She's not dying," mumbled Neville. "She'll be back in a year or two."
"Sorry, I didn't mean -"
*CRASH*
"Oh my!" Mrs. Weasley retrieved her wand from the kitchen counter and repaired the plate that had just shattered over the wooden floor, then magicked it onto the kitchen table. "George, stop dancing!"
"My body just responds to the rhythm," said George innocently. "How much time separates me from that elk meat, by the way?"
"Just a short while, but don't devour it." Mrs. Weasley gave Ron a furtive look then began tending to the gravy. "Oops, I'll need to go get the garlic. Ron, flip the meat, won't you?"
"Can't promise anything!" called George after his mom as she walked off into another room. He then licked his lips and slapped his stomach. "Also want to take those potatos out for a shakedown. Is that gravy? Merlin, is mum making the bacon gravy? And look at those onions!"
"Oh, stop it," warned Hermione, smirking. "Ron's starting to drool."
"Sorry." Ron turned the slab of meat as per his mother's instructions.
"Are those the Lovegoods?" asked Lee, peering through the kitchen window. "They'd pretty much have to be..."
"Yeah, that's them," said Ron, leaning next to Lee to see through the circular window.
"Oh, look, they've brought fellow Ravenclaw Cho Chang," observed George. He struggled to suppress his laughter when Harry widened his eyes and Ginny rushed to the window.
"I don't see her," said Ginny as she craned her neck to get a better angle.
"Ginevra the Gullible," chuckled George. He swayed to dodge Ginny's overhand swat as Helinora giggled from the doorway.
"Probably shouldn't trick Ginny in a room with so many knives," warned Neville.
"Ah, Neville, thought I might have a word," said George. He wrapped an arm around Neville's shoulders and guided him into the other room.
There were a few knocks at the old beaten front door; a few chickens clucked alertly off in the distance. Ginny offered one last scowl in George's direction before jogging to the door, opening it, and stepping back to admit the Lovegoods, who were wearing matching robes of shining gold. Luna's presence initiated a group hug, while her father received a few handshakes and pats on the shoulder. As Luna and her father were being guided to the sitting room, Mrs. Weasley came shuffling down the wobbling staircase carrying several cloves of garlic.
"Xeno! Luna!" Mrs. Weasley offered them a quick squeeze and a few pecks on their cheeks. "Lovely to see you again. Dinner will be ready momentarily - Hermione, Ginny, George, please assort the usual arrangement of tables in the yard, won't you? Ron, Harry, Lee, I need help transporting the silverware. Angelina, Neville, dears, could you carry the food, please?"
The group scurried off to achieve their objectives. Hermione raised her chin haughtily when she was able to Locomotor three large tables into the yard at the same time and align them perfectly on the grass, but her jaw dropped when, with a small swish of the wand, George Transfigured the line of battered, scratched wooden tables into one long, smooth table complete with a white tablecloth and candles.
Ginny offered a small bit of applause before the table was pelted with knives and forks as Harry, Ron, and Lee stood in the doorway magicking silverware through the open kitchen window. Hermione crossed her arms reproachfully. Once all the cutlery had been moved, Harry and Ron approached the table and pushed the heaps of metal into their positions, while Lee and Helinora brought bowls and plates.
Luna and Xenophilius Lovegood approached the table, levitating a clump of chairs above their heads, which they then scattered around the edges of the table. Mrs. Weasley, Angelina, and Neville exited the house bearing large dishes of the chopped elk meat, gravy, potatos, onions, carrots and other goodness, which they then splayed about the long table. Mrs. Weasley's look of confusion at the new table's existence conflicted with her wide-eyed regret for trusting Neville to carry the food, as he stumbled and fell face-first into the bowl of peas just after placing the last dish on the table.
A moonless night had fallen over them, without a single star visible through the foggy clouds. The Weasley family, along with its two honorary members and other friends, began filling their plates. Ron and George expertly sought the gravy first, while the less experienced consumers of Mrs. Weasley's cooking went for the elk.
"Exquisite!" declared Xenophilius, his cheek bulging as he chewed a gob of potatos and meat. "Absolutely flawless! Consummate! Invincible!"
"Haven't you ever had Molly's cooking before?" asked Harry as Mrs. Weasley's cheeks ran red.
"Not nearly enough," stated Xenophilius. After staring into Harry's gleaming emerald eyes for a moment, his expression fell and he looked down at his plate. "Harry, I must confess, I feel ashamed. Almost too much to look you in the eye."
"Why?" Harry glanced around the table in confusion before the memory dawned on him. "Oh, that!"
"Yes," wheezed Xenophilius as he stabbed a slice of potato.
"That doesn't matter now."
"Of course it does." Xenophilius looked up. "Have you forgotten? I betrayed you - I earned your trust by supporting you, then stabbed you in the back. You and your friends - Luna's best friends..."
"Don't be silly," said Hermione awkwardly, glancing at Luna, whose expression was unreadable. "You didn't support Harry just to earn his trust."
"Maybe not, but -"
"They had your daughter," supplied Ron. "Who could blame you?"
"Cheer up, Xeno," urged George. "The war ravaged us all, didn't it? All that we knew was in danger."
"Here," said Mrs. Weasley, clearing her throat. Brandishing her wand, she guided a large green bottle over to the end of the table. "Some wine."
"Thank you all," managed Xenophilius before swilling the wine.
"Where are you going?" asked Neville from beside Luna.
"Camping," she replied. "We're going to Ireland, then Spain."
"Spain is home to many fantastic creatures," added Xenophilius.
"I read a book once that told me all about fantastic creatures, and where to find them," said Ron, grinning. Hermione laughed beside him.
"The creatures we're after can't be found in a simple textbook," said Xenophilius. Harry resisted the urge to add 'or on Earth.'
"How long will you be gone?" asked Neville.
"That is unclear," replied Xenophilius.
"How long will you be gone?" repeated Neville blankly.
"There's no scheduled return date," explained Xenophilius, raising an eyebrow.
There was a moment where only the scraping of forks and knives against plates and sipping of pumpkin juice and wine could be heard.
"So, you hunted this elk yourself?" asked Ginny, cutting through the awkward silence.
"Yes," replied Helinora, smiling. "It was an adult... I lured it close by imitating its call, then I took a rock and bashed -"
"Ack!" Hermione squeaked, horrified. "Please, don't tell us."
"It's good, though," said Lee.
"So, Neville," said Angelina. "I hear you're moving in with George?"
"Yeah," he said. Luna looked up at him. "Soon, actually."
"And you consciously made this decision?" asked Angelina. "You weren't Confunded? Imperiused? Drunk?"
There was a round of sniggering through the table as Neville smiled sheepishly.
"He might have been a bit drunk," said George, finishing up his meal. "Leave the man alone."
"I think it's a wonderful idea," said Mrs. Weasley. "A nice boy like Neville ought to straighten you up a bit, George."
"I think it's more likely that Neville will succumb to George's ways," said Ginny, smirking. "I fear for the population of Muggle women that live near Diagon Alley."
"Neville wouldn't do that," declared Luna in a confident tone.
"Yeah," agreed George. "He couldn't accomplish it now, but if I helped him work on those dance moves, who knows?"
"Now, George," scolded Mrs. Weasley. "Before you have a go at anyone, I should remind you that I can embarrass you much moreso than you could Neville."
"Sorry, mum," mumbled George. He rose to his feet. "Well, I'd best be off before any stories are told. Lee? Angie?"
"Yes, excuse us," said Lee, standing, along with Angelina.
George whipped his wand, and the long table rattled and morphed back into the few battered old tables. He said his goodbyes to his friends and Disapparated with a *pop*.
"It is a bit late," observed Harry, glancing down at his wrist and reading the time off of the watch that had once belonged to Fabian Prewett.
Luna, Xenophilius, and Neville trudged up a hill that overlooked the valley where the Burrow was situated, heading towards a tall tower in the distance. Neville stuck closely beside Luna, who was gripping his hand firmly. As they neared the Lovegood house, which was tall and cylindrical like a chess rook, Xenophilius stopped by the garden and ripped a few small plants from the ground. They looked like green onions.
"Gurdyroots," he explained. "I'll make Gurdyroot tea. Guests often ask how it's made."
Neville followed the Lovegoods past the hand-painted signs that warned visitors to keep off the Dirigible Plums and into their tall home. He stood awkwardly as Xenophilius prepared the foul-smelling Gurdyroot tea. Neville surveyed the house, turning 360 degrees where he stood. He noticed that everything in the house was curved to fit the room's cylindrical shape; not just the walls, but the stove, sink, and cupboards, which were painted with flowers, insects, and birds, all in bright primary colors.
At the center of the room, a tall wrought-iron spiral staircase led to the upper levels of the house. Xenophilius weaved around the staircase and instructed Neville and Luna to follow him upstairs. When Neville reached the room above, he saw tall wooden shelves similar to those of the Hogwarts library and tall piles of books and papers on the desks, chairs, and floor. Neville spotted an inactive wooden box with several knobs and gears, and deduced that it was the printing press Xenophilius used to print The Quibbler.
"Sit, please," said Xenophilius.
Neville looked around awkwardly for an open space, and sighed in relief when Luna brushed several papers off of a nearby couch and gestured for him to sit beside her.
"I understand that you are - ahem - 'dating' my Luna." Neville gulped and shook slightly; one of Xenophilius's eyes was looking at him, and the other was looking at Luna. "Pardon me, but I find the concept of 'dating' arbitrary, if not dull and contemptible."
"We're dating," said Luna. "We were, at least. We've decided to stop, since we'll be apart. It's for the best."
"Ah." Xenophilius rubbed his chin. "Luna tells me you're magically gifted. A Gryffindor, as well."
"I suppose - I don't know about 'gifted,' but I am a Gryffindor."
"Forgive me, but you don't seem courageous."
"He withdrew the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat," said Luna. "Dumbledore said only a true Gryffindor is capable of that."
"It's true," said Xenophilius, raising his eyebrows. "The sword only answers to Gryffindors, Godric Gryffindor made sure of that."
After a while, there was a light melodic humming from the floor below. It reminded Neville of the Hogwarts choir.
"That'll be the kettle," explained Xenophilius, spotting Neville's confused look. "Excuse me."
Xenophilius ambled down the wrought-iron spiral staircase and out of sight. Neville sighed the tension away and glanced at Luna, who was smiling.
"I believe daddy likes you," she said.
"He seemed a bit skeptical of me." Neville looked down.
"That's odd," said Luna, smiling lightly. "Nobody's ever called us 'skeptical.'"
"Fair point," chuckled Neville. "I guess he was ... cautious."
"Oh, well, he's obligated to be protective of me, I suppose."
"I know what that's like. I'm protective of you too."
"That's nice." Luna beamed. "I don't like when everyone makes fun of you either."
Neville glanced into her protuberant eyes and found his breath becoming shallow. He leaned in closer to her, but stopped just before their lips collided, as he heard Xenophilius returning with the rattling tray of tea. He shot back in his seat, tapping his foot to appear casual, leaving Luna sitting there comically with closed eyes and puckered lips for a few seconds before she realized he'd pulled away.
"Here we are," said Xenophilius as he stepped up from the stairs.
He placed the tray of tea atop a stack of books on his desk and handed warm, full cups to Neville and Luna. Neville thought the beige teacups with their pink and blue paintings of rabbits would be quite pleasant if it weren't for the odious green liquid filling them.
"I painted them," said Luna. "With my mother, when I was young. I liked hares."
"Isn't your Patronus a hare?" asked Neville. She nodded.
"An excellent Patronus," added Xenophilius. "Mine is a will-o-wisp. What's yours, Neville?"
"I - er ... I've never been able to cast one, sir," said Neville.
Xenophilius laughed riotously.
"Well, it's difficult!" defended Neville. Xenophilius shook his head.
"No, you called me 'sir,'" he explained. Neville grinned and shrugged.
Xenophilius took a sip of his tea, then promptly went limp and flopped onto the ground. Neville shot to his feet and inspected Xenophilius's body, but Luna remained calm. Neville flipped Xenophilius over and examined his face.
"Luna, he's fainted!" exclaimed Neville.
"That can happen with Gurdyroot tea," she said. "He's asleep. Listen."
Neville stopped and closed his eyes, and began to hear light snoring.
"Oh. Well, I'd better just..." Neville closed Xenophilius's eyelids with his fingertips and placed his cup of tea down on the desk. "What should we do? Is there an antidote? A spell?"
"Actually, I was thinking you could kiss me." Luna smiled. "I know you didn't want to in front of my father."
"Let's g-go up to your room, then," said Neville. Luna nodded and helped Neville hoist Xenophilius onto the couch and Neville piled a bunch of papers under the slumbering man's head to act as a pillow.
When Neville climbed the staircase to the next level, he found that Luna had decorated her ceiling with five beautifully painted faces: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and himself. They were not moving like the portraits at Hogwarts, but they were different from Muggle pictures, shifting slightly as if they were breathing. The pictures were linked together by golden chains that formed one word repeated thousands of times: friends.
"Here," said Luna, crossing the pale blue carpeted floor and sitting on her bed.
Neville followed and sat beside her. Without wasting any time, he slithered his arms around her back and pulled her into his chest, so that their lips connected. He felt her arms wrap around his neck and squeeze him tightly when their lips met, and returned her embrace by tightening his hold around her waist. After a lengthy kiss where tongues wrestled, areas were grabbed, and moans vibrated, Neville pulled away far enough to look into her eyes.
"I'll miss you."
"I know." Luna's mouth twitched, and Neville noticed water pooling in her eyes. "It'll be sad, won't it?"
"Don't cry, please," said Neville, before offering her another kiss.
"I know I'm not supposed to."
"You can around me, but... I suppose it's just weird to see."
"Okay." Luna glanced up at the ceiling, at the pictures of her friends. "I'll miss them. They're good friends, but they don't understand me as much as you do."
"It's a bold claim, but I think I understand you." Neville smiled. "You'll be back before you know it anyway, right?"
"It won't be too long, I expect."
"Be sure to come back soon. I don't want to grow apart, you know?"
"I know, and the others, as well. I don't really want to leave my friends, and I think Daddy knows that, but he doesn't want to grow apart either." Luna tilted her head. "We are being a bit dramatic, aren't we?"
"Yeah." Neville grinned. "Hey, do you want to - er - um..."
"Yes." Luna smiled.
Before Neville could register her response, he found his shirt being yanked over his head. He raised his arms to comply, and soon his shirt had been chucked off to the floor somewhere. Neville leaned over Luna, pushing her down over her bed and leaning down to kiss her throat. He sighed happily as he felt her smooth skin pumping when she breathed and whiffed the scent of her light blonde hair. Neville blindly groped around his shin to withdraw his wand from its holster and executed the nonverbal contraceptive charm he'd learned from George earlier that night.
Before long, Neville found himself staring at her bare chest, and sat there, frozen, feeling his heart pumping against his ribs. Luna cackled loudly at Neville, who looked like a wide-eyed statue. Neville smiled gratefully when she guided his hands to her, and soon they were tangled together, wrestling each other's clothes off and kissing wildly, until they finally became one. Luna whimpered slightly when they connected, and Neville noticed the sparkle of tears gliding down her cheeks, that he knew had nothing to do with physical pain.
They continued through the night, stopping at increasingly infrequent intervals to rest and cuddle. When Neville turned over to be on bottom, he swore he glimpsed the semi-still portrait of Ron Weasley giving him a congratulatory wink. During one of their breaks, after he'd lost count of how many sessions they'd had, he felt Luna fall asleep against his shoulder. He wanted to tell her he'd miss her, but worried she might cry again. Before he could pluck up the courage, he lost consciousness and drifted to sleep.
