Finding the right person to imitate with polyjuice potion shouldn't have been one of Harry's main priorities. Concerning the scope of his strategy- and Harry's strategy was rather large and complicated at the moment- who he was at Bill and Fleur's wedding was unimportant. A task that could've been relegated to anyone. Go into town, find someone who wasn't attending the wedding, pluck a hair and be done with it. But as the wedding was going to be Harry's last chance of seeing Luna before his life took a more complex turn, he had wanted a choice in who got to say goodbye.
And it couldn't be just anyone.
"He's too old," and "No, no, he's too short," and finally, "Come on, look at him. He's balding!" were just a few of his objections to Hermione who'd accompanied him into town under the invisibility cloak.
There were slight indicators that he was starting to frustrate her- a forehead rub, her mouth twisted to the side- but knowing why Harry was taking this task so personally kept Hermione from lecturing him. She was sympathetic. Probably more than Ron would've been, which was why Harry had chosen to leave him behind. Plus Mrs. Weasley had insisted Ron stay and help with wedding preparations, something Harry was more than happy to escape from.
"Okay, how about him? He looks younger. Maybe late teens. Early twenties. And more importantly ..." Hermione paused for dramatic effect and Harry rolled his eyes, "a head full of hair." She was pointing at a man who was leaning casually against the outside wall of a pub. A woman was standing near him and looked none too interested in the conversation he was trying strike up with her.
"He may have hair, but he's also cross-eyed," Harry said.
Hermione softly giggled, and the man they'd been casing glanced their way wearing a confused expression. "He is not," she refuted, lowering her voice. "Although now that I'm looking, his eyes do appear to be a bit too close together."
"Like they're trying to kiss," Harry joked.
Hermione gave his shoulder a slight shove and then they both laughed. This sound caught the attention of the woman standing with the odd-eyed man, which prompted Hermione to ask, "What about her?"
Harry's eyebrows rose. "A woman? Isn't that, I dunno, a little unethical?"
"Probably, but you're making this far too complicated, Harry." The tone she used was patient, but her frustration was beginning to resurface, a sign their moment of levity was over.
"Well, I'm not sure Luna would be comfortable if I were a woman," Harry finally answered.
"Why wouldn't she be? I hardly think Luna has a problem with anyone. It's what makes her Luna. I could turn you into Buckbeak and she'd be fine with that."
"This is different," he insisted.
"Why?"
"It just is." Harry averted his gaze and in the few seconds of silence that followed, Hermione was able to piece together an answer. He didn't have to see her look of disapproval to know she was piercing him with it. The expression was one he'd memorized after years of seeing it bestowed upon Ron; now it was Harry who had provoked her signature stare.
"Harry," she said his name slowly. "You're not planning on kissing Luna are you?"
He didn't answer, which was answer enough for her.
"But you can't. You're just starting to get over your breakup."
"And how do you know that?" Harry hissed under his breath. "You're not me. You don't know how I feel. No one does." Regret instantly flooded him over his outburst, especially since he didn't actually think any of those things. It was more a product of feeling overwhelmed than a response to Hermione, and Harry was quick to apologize. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean-"
"No, you're right," she interrupted.
Harry paused and looked at her askance. "Wait … what? I am?" Hermione wasn't one to give in easily and it threw him off-balance.
"Yes. Because I don't actually know how you feel. I can only guess. But ..." she exhaled softly, "are you even sure she would want to kiss you as someone else. Maybe she's moved on. Luna has every right to, you know."
Harry didn't like the idea of this, but couldn't deny its likelihood. He was the one who'd ended their relationship and cut off communication after leaving Hogwarts. It was completely possible Luna no longer felt the same, and it was a punch to the gut finally admitting this to himself. "I know," he replied, watching as Hermione's expression turned from serious to sympathetic.
"Look, Harry, I support you. I do. But as a friend I'm always going to be looking out for your best interest. And this is not in either of your best interests."
Harry kept quiet as he absently rubbed his scar, not wanting to admit out loud that she was right. Hermione gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze and eventually fixed her gaze back on the couple, who were actually no longer one, as the woman had slapped the cross-eyed man, leaving him grumbling with a sore cheek. It took a few more of Hermione's suggestions before Harry settled on a light-haired boy about his age with brown eyes and a crooked nose. Hermione mentioned how he somewhat resembled a younger, blonder version of Snape, and Harry, trying to make light of the seriousness of their previous conversation, replied, "Well, if you were trying to get Luna not to kiss me, then that would be the way to go."
Back at the Burrow, Harry sent the Lovegoods an invitation to Bill and Fleur's wedding and when their owl came back the next day with a reply, he immediately snuck off to the side of the Weasley's chicken coop for privacy. The disappointment he felt at seeing there wasn't anything extra from Luna in the note cut deeper than Harry wanted to admit. He had hoped his cryptic message would be met with one of her own, but saw only the big loopy handwriting of Xenophilius stating they would love to come to the wedding and gift Bill and Fleur a year's subscription to the Quibbler. Harry snorted and imagined the look Luna often made whenever mentioning her father's habit of constantly pushing the Quibbler onto others, as if to say- What am I going to do with him?
But the comfort this memory brought faded the longer Harry stared at Xenophilius's reply. Maybe Luna hadn't even cared about his message. It was a dreary thought that revived Hermione's argument from their trip into town. What if Luna had moved on and he was holding onto foolish hope that she would wait for him? Which, deep down, Harry knew was selfish. She was only sixteen and had a whole life to live that didn't involve hanging onto an old boyfriend with a long list of enemies. The name Harry Potter came along with an excessive amount of baggage and it was a surprise Luna had even wanted to be with him in the first place.
When Harry had ended their relationship, he'd been certain it was the right thing to do. But loneliness had crept in over time, convincing him of some fantasy that maybe she still wanted him. He should've been focusing on the plan ahead, instead of reminiscing about the past, and it only served to hurt him deeper than before.
Hope could inspire, but it also could delude.
"If you're trying to hide, it's not gonna work. Mum found me here yesterday."
Harry jerked his head up to see Ron approaching.
"She's got eyes in the back of her head. And probably a few other places. This whole wedding has made a right nutter outta her."
In the distance, Harry could hear Mrs. Wesley calling for her youngest son, and Ron groaned, glancing over his shoulder. "See what I mean. Eyeballs everywhere."
Harry held up the letter for Ron. "Better give this to her then. If Luna and her dad show up and she never got their RSVP, I don't want it coming back on me."
Ron twisted his neck to face Harry again. "So they're gonna be there?" he asked, his eyes growing wide.
"Yeah," Harry answered, not matching Ron's enthusiasm.
"And?"
"And nothing." Harry handed over the letter to Ron and walked away, but didn't get far before his friend jogged up beside him.
"Aaaand … aren't you happy about that?"
Harry sighed. "Honestly, I don't know how I feel. I keep thinking she doesn't care about me anymore and it's driving me mad. Maybe inviting them was a bad idea."
Ron was quiet for a moment. "Well, if I were you, I'd be happy," he finally said.
"And why's that?"
"Because, you know, just seeing that she's alright should be enough for now. Don't think too much about anything else. You've got loads on your mind anyway. Just enjoy the little bits of happiness when you get them."
Mrs. Weasley's voice was growing steadily louder calling for Ron, then she transitioned to Harry's name.
"You know, like me right now. I'm gonna go enjoy a little bit of my own happiness by hiding from my mum. Think I'll spend some quality time with the ghoul up in the attic. Go over a few points with him of what it's like to be me," Ron grinned slyly, before running into the house, and Harry laughed.
Maybe Ron was more sympathetic about his relationship with Luna than he thought.
"Oh Harry, dear, there you are," Mrs. Weasley said a few seconds later, when she finally caught up with him. Her breathing sounded labored, making Harry wonder just how long she'd been searching for her missing son. "You haven't seen Ron, have you?" she asked.
"No, sorry, I haven't," Harry lied, knowing full well that whatever task she wanted Ron to do would now be assigned to him. But it didn't matter. The little bit of hope he had inspired in Harry was worth its weight in a few wedding chores.
