Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.
Author's Notes - So far, so good. Thinking I can get this done in sixteen chapters for sure. Remember, I didn't say everything that Hermione had done in Rainbow...or Draco for that matter, so there will be events in this story that readers of Rainbow will have no idea had happened. The first scene is one of them. Anyway, enjoy! Plus Happy Way Late New Year and welcome to TWENTYTEN!


Chapter 3 - Fun, Pain, & Games

It's hard for me to believe that things can be good again after all the 'bad'. But good things happen, life and love and really good things keep bumbling along behind me to remind me that it can be. ~ Harry at breakfast to all of his roomates, at the start of summer.


"It's good to have you back!" I hugged Neville hard, momentarily surprised by just how glad I was to see him. I wasn't one to show so much emotion but I had missed him so very very much.

I was happy to be here in the apartment in his honor since we were holding a dinner held to celebrate, and were all really glad that he'd made it back safely from his business trip out of country. We'd been waiting in the foyer for over a half an hour, decorating with massive blown up balloons that hummed songs in the corridors and in all over the living room and decorating the entrance to his set of rooms in the place. Music was blaring from the television, Ginny and Harry had just finished decorating quite a magnificent vanilla bean cake on the island counter while Hermione had cooked something impromptu (bubble and squeak!) and sent Ron to get coconut treacle tart and hot cross buns at a deli place down the street. I'd just been thinking it very possible that he'd been abducted by phantom trough faeries, which I hear are plentiful in English summers, but no. It was good thing she sent him early because he'd made it back just before Neville apparated in front of the open doorway.

"We've missed you, mate," said Ron cheerfully, albeit out of breath. Perhaps those phantom trough faeries had given chase anyway.

Four large white boxes were stacked up neatly in his arms. At the sight of them, I shook my head. There were four more stacked outside the door...trust Ron to get as much as possible. Then again, the boys could clean house if they were left to a kitchen and its provisions. He reached out a hand to punch Neville in the shoulder in a very happy way, surprisingly keeping the boxes stacked correctly. I spoke too soon - he made a face when the top one wobbled ominously, his face immediately focusing on the food.

"Might drop this if I'm not careful. Just let me leave this on the counter, yeah?"

Everyone laughed, before he jogged up the corridor, the rest of the boxes lifting and following him one by one. As he moved up the hallway, Hermione and Gin were running down it. Before they got there, Dean and Harry clapped him on the back and stepped back. Hah, and just in the nick of time since Ginny pulled him into a hard hug too while Hermione attacked from the other side. I could barely see Neville through all that curly hair. It was too much for Neville, clearly, who dropped the one suitcase he was holding unto and staggered backwards under their combined weight. I couldn't help it - I started to laugh, really laugh, lean-against-the-wall-and-shake really-hard kind of laughter.

Dean caught my eyes and grinned at me over their heads.

"It's good to be back, everyone."

Neville, who smiled often but laughed so very rarely, was laughing openly now. It was so good to see him this way...I suppose he'd always been rather serious but the three days he'd spent in the hands of the Death Eaters, tortured just like his parents, had ironed out anything that had been soft in him before. He'd talked to Dean about whatever had happened but not me. I had no idea what it had taken for him to get through that with his mind intact. Because...Three days is seventy-two hours, and seventy-two hours is an awfully long time.

So to see him smile like this? Made my heart so full.

"Sorry about that," Mione said with a rueful smile when she pulled back. "Too happy to see you, I suppose!"

"Same here," chimed in Ginny. She pulled back with an affectionate grin. "Merlin, but it is so very good to see you! We've missed you so much! You've missed so much, too!"

Another general burst of laughter before-

"Oi!"

Everyone turned to see Ron motioning us forward.

"Can we move this thing in here? Close the door - music is so loud, I'm sure they can hear us downstairs without the added help. Oh and drop the wards, Dean?"

More laughter, quick chatter as everyone but Dean and I moved away from the door and all the way down the corridor and into the apartment. I leaned against the wall, still smiling, as I watched him close his eyes and whisper the spell for the wards. No one would be able to get in, and that would be the maximum amount of magic they could perform and still have the electronics (was that the right word?) work properly. Sometimes, it still interfered but as long as we had the music for Neville, it would be fine. I watched them leave, watched Hermione and Harry chatter away to Neville while Ginny tried to distract them from the other side.

"You that happy?"

I startled out of my thoughts. Dean was leaning against the wall opposite me, arms folded across his chest and a grin on his face. I blinked. "Eh?"

"Your smile is just so...full."

I blinked again. He always took the words right out of my head.

"Is it?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Yes, it is. I've rarely seen you smile."

I don't?

"Let me rephrase that. You do smile, just not so..." He stopped, searching for the right word. "Not sure how to describe it. It's the difference between an every-day smile and an so-happy-I-couldn't-help-but-smile smile."

I thought about it.

"I am..." I searched for words too. "I am, I know. We've all been through much and when I see you all, I can't help it. I just feel that it's good to so see him-"

"That way, right? So happy."

I nodded and looked at him. He pushed off the wall and for a very disconcerting moment I was aware of just how tall Dean was, how much of him was solid muscle, how all that sheer height made him tower over me at all times. I had to fight not to take a startled step back and then shake off this really strange urge to take a good long look at him. I tensed briefly, figuring...myself...back out again.

Strange.

"You ready to go back in?"

I startled again. Heavens, what was happening to me? It was just too odd.

"Yes," I said firmly, belatedly remembering his question. Thank heavens he hadn't noticed the lapse. Wouldn't do to stand there like a ninny or he defintely would notice. "Yes, let's go."

"You alright?"

I just barely managed not to freeze, barely managed to look at him normally. I suppose he did notice? I shook my hair out and smiled at him.

"Fine," I responded, as breezily as I could manage. "Just fine. Come along."

When he chuckled, I did something so rare that it took me a minute to figure out what the heat in my neck and cheek was. Really? I blinked and walked a bit faster. At least the hallway was dim. I mean, only a night owl could see me...blushing. Hopefully all that pink on pale wouldn't be too noticeable? Perhaps? Who was I joshing - I sped up a whole lot, leaving Dean Thomas to continue to laugh at me from somewhere behind me.

-|-

"Is it still top secret? You really can't tell us why you were so very suddenly sent on a business trip to Ireland?"

It was certainly the question most of us had been thinking about - but, of course, only Hermione would ask aloud. Which was pointless since there was a lot of shoveling of food into mouths on the other side of the table, Neville included. It took him a moment to finish swallowing before he cleared his throat to answer.

"Still can't but it's nothing bad at all." He smiled around the table. "Nothing bad at all. No worries, alright, you lot?"

Well, I suppose that was good. One shock at a time was enough. Dean and I had told him over the phone yesterday, about the two of us being betrothed. He'd been surprised but happy that at least the two of us knew each other. He had no idea who his would be but since there weren't any more girls in the group..."I'd be lucky as hell to know of her!" he'd said. He was right. This was true. And after our conclusion - well, really, the decision that this betrothed thing wasn't going to change us in any way, that at least we were okay (if not happy) and we had each other, that we would continue to be best mates - we were looking in tip-top shape next to Hermione and Neville. He hadn't wanted to open the letter tonight but he was going to have to soon. And once he did, the rest of his life would play out in accordance. Three days to meet with her, more to figure out the enxxt step or the next move, the rest to find out if they were really as perfectly matched as the Ministry had claimed they were supposed to be.

I couldn't help the turn of my thoughts as I stared at him throughout the rest of dinner, as I stayed mostly out of the conversation. I wanted so bad for all of us to be happy...this group of people who had I'd become so close to in the last year. I hadn't had such good luck with friends before. I suppose I still found out it miraculous to have acquired them in such hard times. They brought out the best in me, I think. Understood me very well, would do anything for me, made it so that I felt that way in return. I smiled a little bit as Ron whispered something to Harry that had Gin punching him hard in the arm, Dean falling back to get out of her way, and Neville laughing (so rare, that) really hard. But this edict...

I had a sudden premonition, a forbedoing feeling, an inexplicable vision of the rest of summer.

Of an incredibly unhappy Neville. It was as clear as a bell: his face closed and as impassive as stone, his eyes as dark as the night we'd found him after his capture by Death Eaters. In the vision, his gaze was heavy on my face. I was the lens of the camera he looked into and whatever he saw there did not move him. I sucked in a breath, dismayed, fighting back the vision. My head refused to clear of it. It unfurled and played out like a Muggle movie reel.

He looked me dead in the face, then turning away with an air of dismissal so final that it felt like a permanent goodbye. And a blow to my chest. Tears I hadn't known could surge to the forefront were surging now. Where was this coming from? I sucked in another breath and blinked rapidly, looking down and shielding my face with my hair. And what was the ring of truth to it, as if it were a real disclosure of the future? I had to get out of here for a little bit, gather myself into myself and back together. I got up silently, made my way to the bathroom early in the corridor off of Dean's wing.

Please, dear heavens, please...He has earned every right to be happy.

I closed the door, locked it, leaned back and shook. Too much truth in it. I was Who was he destined to be with? What young woman was going to make Neville look like that? Had that even been a true vision? Heavens, it felt real. That kind of thing had only happened once before - a week before Second Year began. It had been something almost as bad - it had been about Daddy having a very close run-in with an experiment. Same as this time: the shaking, the near-tears, the complete conviction that the scene in my head been truth. And it had sent me to the Head of my House, asking for someone to get my father in the fireplace so I could make sure he was alright.

"Luna?

Dean, at the door. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah?"

"I felt...something. What's wrong?"

They weren't lying about that bond, were they. Such strong magic to tie two lives down. How much could Dean feel of this? What exactly was he alerted to? Heavens but that vision...I had to breath. I had to take a step back and look at it objectively. And after a few more seconds of silence, I found that I could. Alright. I accepted the vision as portentious, perhaps, but what terrible portents indeed. I stopped shaking, flipped on the light switch and ran water in the sink. Water, face, wash, fine. Fine. Wow, my thoughts were all over the place. I wasn't even making coherent connections anymore. I breathed deeply, breathed evenly for a few moments and collected myself. I was calm now. I was good now.

"Luna?" Dean's voice was now flat-out worried, insistent. "I'm coming in there right now. Luna, can you hear me? Damn it-"

I pulled the door open to see him looking the slightest bit frantic, very worried, both arms upraised as if to hit the frame of the massive door. He pulled me into a hard hug before pushing me back by the shoulders.

"Wh-what happened?"

Now that the relief was past, he looked ticked. Uh-oh. I didn't want to see him angry.

"I'm sorry," I apologized quickly. "I think I spaced out for a bit."

A beat of silence as I looked away from him and then-

"You're lying." I couldn't help that my eyebrows rose up in the face of his conviction. And he was slowly moving from ticked to...er- something more. "You're lying to me. You have never liked to admit that you 'space', as you so eloquently called it."

When had he gotten so good at reading me? If I could pinpoint the time, perhaps I could get a Time-Turner and go back and change it. That thought wasn't helping me in the present though. Dean's face was its own little storm cloud as his hands let go of my shoulders to cradle my neck. Alright, whoa. Not what I'm used to...at...all. We got close all the time, really, but not in situations like this. He didn't even look like it was throwing off - in fact, Dean Thomas looked like we engaged in this kind of thing all the time. I felt the beginnings of that unfamiliar heat that signaled a blush. And fought to remain calm. Maybe I could explain my way out of this?

"Not only that but whatever is tying us is kicking in. I could feel the mood slide from positive to negative throughout dinner, though it took me a hell of a while to figure out that it wasn't me. It was you." His thumbs stroked and I got distracted, kicking that blush back down into the depths. "So cut it out and spit it out, Luna."

"I'm not really sure how to describe it." I sighed then realized it made the pad of his fingers go into further action. Not good for me. I looked down but held myself very very still. My voice was not strangled when it emerged from my mouth, but it wasn't strong either. "Felt like a...vision. Of Neville unhappy. That's all it was."

"Look at me." Do I really have to?

"Luna."

His voice was a warning in and of itself. Which meant that the answer to the aforementioned question was a resounding yes. I was angry that my first instinct had been to evade the question although I hadn't wanted to outright lie to him. I was angry that I couldn't control this tendency to blush around him today, that I couldn't push back the thought that he would judge me if I told him. I was angry that the vision had been something that wouldn't (couldn't, by any stretch of anyone's imagination) end well for Neville and I knew in my bones that there was truth in it. I was angry that Dean was angry and I hated it when any of my best mates were angry with me. And I was angry because I hadn't wanted him to think me crazy. I had the uncontrollable and uncharacteristic urge to...curse. But I wouldn't. I wouldn't look at him.

Calm. Unruffled. Serene.

That's what I needed to be. I wouldn't look at him until I had mastered myself. I breathed deeply (hadn't I been doing enough of that in the last five minutes? And hadn't it worked? Why should I let Dean come along and shatter that for me?) and almost lost it when the pads of his fingers began moving again over his neck. But I kicked that feeling down and kept my eyes on his chest and breathed. And then again. And again. Just calm.

Calm. That is what I am. Good. Finally, I could meet his gaze head on.

"Sometimes I can't read you at all," he said seriously. "Sometimes, I have no idea what is going on in that head of yours."

I couldn't help when pain blossomed in my head. I closed my eyes against it. See, this was exactly the reason why I hadn't wanted to tell him a thing. I wasn't even angry, just hurt. Why had I ever opened my mouth to tell the truth? Couldn't I have just brushed him off or lied convincingly? Now, he thought that I was-

"That's not crazy."

I looked up at him sharply. His gaze was serious on my face, that good-ol'-chap charm gone since he was watching me so closely. He cradled my face, bending so low that we were now face to face. It felt like he was holding me steady, anchoring me so that I would look at him.

"That's not crazy," he repeated firmly. "I worry. I'm very worried too. Ever since you told me about Nott and Hannah Abbott, I've been worried as hell over Neville. I can't imagine how Hannah is dealing with it, and she's nowhere as close to me as Nev is. I've been anxious about the fact that he could become tied to an ex-Eater this last week, and it's a legitimate worry, Luna. So don't disregard it. Or me. Didn't you tell me about the vision before Second Year?"

I nodded mutely.

"See? You trusted me to believe that so trust me to believe you about this. I don't ever want you to think that you can't tell me something important to you, like that. Ever. Alright?"

He smiled and the smile turned into something that made my chest tight and achy and very uncomfortable. What is wrong with me? Perhaps it was the sheer emotional weight of the last three hours - such a swing from very happy to terrified and anxious. That's surely what it was. I thanked the heavens for small favors when his hands dropped from my face, to squeeze my shoulders, to leave my body entirely. At least, he hadn't noticed this time.

"Alright."

"Good. Now...do you need another moment?" His grin turned mischievous. "I promise I won't be kicking down the door this time."

I began to laugh and Dean took my wrist and began tugging me down the hall. Down the hall, out of the corridor, back among friends. And by the time we settled down on the couch, after he winked at me and rubbed my neck, I realized that I wasn't worried anymore. That I was laughing, that the vision seemed a distant dark thing that I didn't need to be anxious about. I looked up at him, this very good friend, the very best of friends and wondered...

Seemed like he was always doing this to me.

/-|-\

"Mr. Lovegood, are you sure you don't need help?" I asked doubtfully.

He was carrying an armload of what looked to be heavy boxes filled to the brim with assorted pottery, glass jars filled with brightly-colored constantly shifting liquids, and clean parchment. It looked dangerous with the top two wobbling, his body hidden by those boxes, and the four boxes that were trailing low to the ground right behind him looked even more so. Those were tripping hazards just waiting to happen. If he wasn't careful, he was going to- Crap! I leaped out of the chair as one box almost took Mr. Lovegood down. He recovered, just barely. My heart sank back into its normal place mid-chest.

"I'm alright," came the muffled voice from behind the boxes. A moment later he poked his head out, dark hair ruffled. "I've got these here but you can take those ones back in the office."

I was afraid to leave him alone after that near mishap. Understand this - Mr. Lovegood is actually a very competent wizard. I'd seen him in action only once at the beginning of the War, back when I hadn't known Luna very well and before she'd begged him to leave the country and be safe. In fact, he was always in the middle of creating new spells when I was over here or manipulating old ones to new processes or ends. It was just that he was so careless in the sense of what happened to him while he was experimenting. He would be so focused on finishing his experiment that he could be burned and endure - hell, if he even noticed it! - until he was completely finished. Sometimes he would forget meals, which drove Luna to rare displays of irritation, or he would sleep in that lab. I was going to go grey early worrying about this man.

He smiled as if he knew what I was thinking, motioned his head towards the office, and turned to make his slow way down the corridor leading to the experimentation room. I (understandably!) hesitated before heading off to the room. I had to stop in the doorway to check if I was in the same place.

"Wow," I muttered to myself. The normally chaotic room was orderly. A miracle? "Never thought I'd see the day."

A flick of a wand to get four boxes up before I lifted the last three which were pretty light to begin with, and backtracked down the hallway, across the living room and into the lab. Where he was at a desk in the corner, unpacking some of the stuff in the boxes. Which was good. Very good. He grinned when I entered the room, then motioned me over to look at something in the textbook. Before long we were arguing over whether or not a spell could be created to make a wand unbreakable.

"But wood always breaks," I argued at some point. "The breaking comes from within, doesn't it? Too much magic that it can't hold - isn't that why it breaks?"

"True, but if the spell was aimed at the capacity of the wood to maintain a spell...because the capacity is the problem."

I paused at what he said, thinking about it.

"How do you even propose to do that though? No such spell exists."

"Exactly." His eyes twinkled - twinkled! "This is a new spell altogether."

I arched my eyebrows. Of course. Why hadn't I thought that he would build it himself. Sounded liked a project.

"Sounds interesting though I have no idea how that would work. I wonder-"

"Aren't you two busy little bees?"

We both looked up to see Luna in the doorway, smiling a little bit and looking very pretty in a light blue sun-dress that had a smidgen of dirt on the hip. She was barefoot and I could just bet the bottoms of her feet were covered in soil from her garden too. The sun hat was pushed back a little bit, the loose strap hanging around her ears and down the front of her dress.

"The new spell."

"Wands?"

Mr. Lovegood and I nodded at the same time.

"May I see it later today?" She pushed the hat farther back on her head. "I'm borrowing Dean to look at the garden. And to keep Kit out of my way."

Kit, the adorable kitten whom I'd named since Luna had let me. He was still pretty small, even after a week of constant feeding, but he was energetic and playful and I felt like I was watching toddlers whenever I was with that little thing. All I did was jog or run or laugh or duck paws. Or, in this case, keep him out of Luna's way when she was pottering about her expansive garden. Since I'd given him a name, she was going to name the puppy I got next week.

"Kit's in the garden right now?"

She nodded. and we looked towards the desk.

"Daddy?"

"Steal him away then." Mr. Lovegood smiled even as his attention slipped back to the volume on the desk. I could tell he was going already. "Early repast later?"

"If you'd like," Luna said, before glancing at me. "That is, if Dean's cooking."

I chuckled.

"Don't I always?"

"Ninety percent of the time," she replied with a small smile before turning on her heels. "Come along."

I followed her out of the room and found myself admiring the way she moved. She might have been a bit forgetful and very whimsical, but there was nothing clumsy about Luna. She was graceful, more comfortable standing than sitting, more comfortable barefoot than That long dress swished around her knees as she moved, a delicate gold ankle bracelet glinting in the sun slanting through the windows when she stopped to get an apple in the kitchen. I admit I used to like to watch her back at Hogwarts sometimes when she'd be wondering around the lake with those silly radish earrings swinging in her ears. Muggy end-of-term time, summer heat - me and Seamus sprawled over the grass instead of studying, watching people walk by. Luna would literally wander her First Year, looking aimless but content as she meandered around the wet grass of the lake's shores. I remember how wavy her hair was, the random streaks of light pink at her temples, the way the sun hit her face and her skin kind of glowed. Her skin was doing the same thing now, as she pushed her way into the garden still with no shoes on.

Male appreciation? Perhaps. Whatever the case, I liked to watch her move.

As she turned to me, I smiled (okay, that was definitely in part some male appreciation but damn I loved to see her go about her business!) and leaned back against the door. Hopefully through this growing bit with the link where we could sometimes feel each other's emotions, I could sense how happy she was. That's what this garden always did for her, eh? And if I was reading correctly, she was happy to have company.

"All you really need to do is sit down." She looked up at me with a smile. "He comes to you whenever you're near anyway."

I dropped slowly, mindful of my size in a way that I never was anywhere else. I'd made the mistake of swaggering in here on my first time and had crushed an entire plant - damned if I'd ever seen Luna look quite so blue. It made me extra careful these days, and usually if I was thinking about it, no poor unsuspecting plant life was hurt in the process. This was the first year, of course, that I'd been close enough to Luna to be a regular party at her home, so the garden was still pretty new to me. Colorful, almost artlessly organized, which leant it more wild feel. It seemed to me Luna didn't do anything that would really take away from the garden's own nature, even weeds to some extent were allowed to grow as their wont. Early and late-blooming flowers, blooming splashes of light cream and startling red, and young bright periwinkle blue and slender yellow and pink shoots - even rare 'black velvet' flowers were alive and thriving in this place. It was lovely to see.

"Dean Thomas, garden helper extroadinaire," I quipped, and got a small smile from Luna. Kit crawled on his belly through the stems of plant, not all that mindful of what he was doing really, and made a beeline for my lap. He was super aware of all comfort zones...and I equaled comfort in the extreme. I'm surprised I trumped the warming plant though - that thing was his favorite outdoors spot. He was looking delightfully healthy these days - all that white fur thickening and becoming smooth, his eyes shiny and alert, and he was awake for most of the day.

"Hi Kit," I murmured lifting him up to look me in the eye. As expected, I was licked right across the nose. I laughed a little then put him back down in my lap where he got comfortable.

"Worked like a charm," said Luna as she dropped down next to me. Her hat was back on her head, fighting off the sun of a rare bright day. "Thank you."

"No problem." I grinned. "How are you feeling about Hogwarts?"

"Hmmm,"she hummed as she worked on uprooting one plant. All I could see was her back. "Good. Finish up this year and freedom."

"Strange to think Hogwarts will be back and functioning."

Her shoulders rolled.

"Very...no Dumbledore, no Hagrid since he's off in France for the Year, and no Snape. Very strange."

Too true, too true. She continued.

"Not to mention fewer classmates - I don't know how many people will actually send their children back."

"The hold-your-darlings close syndrome," I murmured. War would always bring about that sentiment in the populace. Always. "Even so, one more year to go and you'll belong entirely to The Quibbler."

We slipped into silence, me stroking the cat in my lap and Luna successfully transferring the plant from a basket of soil and into the earth with its own kind. I settled for watching her again, not admiringly now, just interestedly as she gave free reign to her creative interests. The strangest urge to use one hand to pet the kitten and the other to stroke all that golden hair almost took me. In fact, one hand was already reaching out to do so when I caught myself and frowned - this bond was making me a bit loose. She never noticed...thank God for gardens...Before long she was moving away from me, walking along the myriad paths to different areas of the garden to tend a bruised leaf here, a broken stem there, drooping flowers elsewhere. Wherever she went, the flowers seemed to automatically lift. I kept forgetting magic was in the soil here - mayhaps my extra-awareness of all the green life was because they were actually far more alert than I usually gave them credit for. At least half-an-hour slipped by this way. Even Kit wandered away for a bit, batting butterflies and generally gamboling about out of reach. I watched him, and watched her. And then perhaps an hour more dissapeared. And then Luna was standing in front of me and ready to putter out of her special place.

"Ready?

She nodded and reached down, as if that little hand would help me get up. I took the hand and pulled her down harder than normal, bringing her tumbling into my lap. When she sputtered, I started to laugh hard.

"That's what you get," I teased as she sat up properly, hat off her head and her hair in disarray around her face. Her dress was going to be smudged some more but at least the look on her face was priceless surprise - like she couldn't fathom how a) she got knocked off her feet b) much of stellar prankster talent I had to get her off her feet and c) the why of why she got to be sitting my lap. It was such an unexpected look that I laughed even harder - imagine, her so startled that she showed it - which made her turn...dare I even think it? She was-

"Are you blushing?" I asked in awe. Hadn't ever seen her go pink. Ever. "Luna-"

She brought a hand up to touch her face, as if the blush could be touched. Which of course, when she realized I was watching the whole thing, made her turn an even prettier shade of that lovely color. She blushed very prettily, which was a feat since she hardly ever did it all. No such thing for people of my skin color and I thanked God for it - if my face let out a warning that I was embarrased every time I was embarrassed, it would get annoying quite quickly. Luna was getting annoyed - yeah, look at her, blue eyes narrowing now as she glared.

"Aww," I joked, "look at that fierce look on your face. It's so fierce that it's adorable." The pink forgot all about retreat and rushed up her neck again. God but this was too easy! "Combine it with that pink and I think I have a very stern-looking witch on my hands."

I started to laugh again when she looked on the verge of becoming a storm cloud.

"Arright, arright, I'm done teasing."

I was still grinning as I looked down at her in my arms, then realized that she was in my arms. As in my arms were wrapped around her, not tightly, but...comfortably like that was where they were supposed to be hanging when unoccupied.

When the h- Creeping up on me all unexpectedly. Why Dean, what strange thoughts you have. I What was I going to do next, I wondered?

She pushed out of them with force that said irritation and I dragged her back in. Willfully. So maybe it wasn't the bond and maybe it was me. "I'm done teasing, I really am! Don't be irritated - it was just that you offered your hand."

She channeled Mione and sniffed hard. Which made me want to chuckle because she was even cuter this way. Fighting a losing battle, I was. So I gave in and grinned actually hugged her to me, really embraced her, very tightly. For a moment she was still and standoffish but she relented after a minute.

"You are really very annoying when you wish to be," came the wry whisper. When she pulled back, she was arching an eyebrow.

"Comes with the territory of all those girl siblings."

"Or maybe you're just naturally a pain and hide it well?"

I laughed at that. "And perhaps you're easily overwrought and don't hide that well?"

"Touché," she said and graced me with a smile. "Touché."

She pulled away completely and stood to her feet, the dress skimming and moving and shaking with her. God but I needed to stop thinking about that dress. Thankfully Kit came bumbling along into my lap again and distraction was complete. And then Luna was wondering why I hadn't been hungry for the last two hours, and then I myself was wondering the same thing and then the two of us - ahem, three including Kit the kitten - trooped back into the house.

"Still working?" I asked, when I stuck my head through Mr. Lovegood's lab door. He looked up. "Ready to eat?"

"Finished cooking already?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Haven't started yet but don't I always?"

He inclined his head.

"What's on the menu today?"

I stroked my chin, weighing the question. Because, of course, the matter of food is always a weighty question. There was still enough leftovers from last week's meal that I wouldn't have to cook a lot to supplement it for them - seriously, call me Chef Dean Thomas since I was clearly the cook for this household! - and that would only consist of making more rice. And maybe some dessert. And since I was going to be playing Quidditch around six o'clock that eve with the rest, I didn't want to eat too much. It was only one o'clock in the afternoon but I didn't feel like a full meal, go figure. So instead of a real meal-

"Cake," I declared. "More like, cupcakes to be exact. I'm going to make rice for you two meanwhile but cupcakes are what I want right now. It won't take too much time and we'll make enough to feed a small army, which should last you a week or so."

"You mean, a month or so." Mr. Lovegood started to chuckle. "Feel free to make whatever you like, as I'm sure you will anyway. And I'll be around eventually, still working on this here."

I frowned. Here we go - he was already beginning to submerge himself in the his new quest. It wouldn't do me any good to try and convince him that he should come out and eat before I headed out that evening but I couldn't let it go so easily either.

"Alright," I said, shaking my head, "but don't forget. Or Luna will come by to remind you."

He smiled at that. "Doesn't she always?"

I grinned, closed the door, and headed back to the kitchen just in time to see Luna looking like she wanted to cook something. With the flour and sugar already out. I winced. God forbid.

"Luna?" I asked cautiously. Her hand was reaching for something in the cupboard over the sink. "Please tell me you're not attempting to...er...make something."

She paused and sent me a look over her shoulder. I almost laughed.

"Are you?" I asked seriously.

She shook her head and pulled out a massive mixing bowl.

"Good." Exhaled. Reached for my wand, whisking flour and sugar and margarine from the fridge into the bowl. Shot her a look designed to irritate. "Because I'm handling that right now. And you wouldn't want to burn the house down again."

"That was one time," she said, now thoroughly and openly exasperated, "and there wasn't even much of a fire. And I caught it before you did."

I had to laugh.

"Someone is just so extra touchy today! Something in the air, perhaps?"

"Someone in the near vicinity, perhaps?"

"Ah," I paused and pouted at her for effect. And then added in hands on my hips for a better effect. "You break my heart when you say things like that. I'm sensitive, remember? And can be easily provoked to annoy the life out of you if you make me sad."

This got a lovely tinkling laugh out of her, and she was still laughing like that when I dropped a bit of icing on her nose. The laugh turned into a signature Luna Lovegood almost-gasp (she never gasped aright). Then shock flitted across her face.

"Did you just-"

I backed up, grinning all the while, as she sputtered in the most un-Luna like fashion, swiping at her nose so now the white was smudged all over her nose. When she dropped her hand away from her face, a little bit of the white stuff rubbed against the front of that blue dress. She looked down, more shocked than when I'd swiped her face, and then looked back up at me. Elegant Luna Lovegood couldn't be put together with all that vanilla cream on her face and down her dress, and seemed to be awed by the fact.

"Indeed I did."

I continued to grin at her, then arched my eyebrows in a way that she would read as challenge.

"Your face was missing a little something-"

Sploosh.

She took the challenge seriously. Speaking took a back seat as I landed on my ass, courtesy of quick thinking magic that created a puddle of water beneath my feet. I'm sure I looked like an idjit on the floor, mouth open, mixing bowl still in my arms but some of the icing now on my shirt. It would be comical, the exact same way that I looked down at my shirt and saw half of my precious batter on my shirt, then looked up at her. Had she really just done that? Had she really just took up the challenge?! The messy but elegant Luna Lovegood smirked - smirked, by Merlin! - above me.

Forgetting magic, I used my hands to lob the rest of the stuff at her and was rewarded with a splatter dead center of her chest. And then it was just outright war. I got that bag of flour and dumped it all over her by brute strength while she pitched sugar at my head and got it in my eyes. Never mind the sugar - I was going to get water from the sink and make her into the beginnings of a baked good if I had a chance. Indeed, I found the thought so very pleasing that I whispered the accio spell to get strawberry preserve hurtling through the air from a cupboard across the room and then made sure half of it got into her hair. She retaliated, quite violently I might add, with catsup and mustard - let's just say my trousers looked like artwork when she was done. Then there was a pitcher of water, something with pumpkin, perhaps some ice cream was in there. When she threatened to dump banana peels from the garbage all over the place - that's when I panted out the terms to a truce.

"We even?" she gasped, a hand on her side. She managed to toss her strawberry splattered hair over her shoulders and peer up at me through the powdered sugar on her eyelashes.

Were we even? She looked adorably messy. And kind of...delicious. I puzzled through that thought for a little bit then pushed it away to answer the question.

"Oh yes," I grunted. "Even. Clean up?"

"Together?"

I nodded, leaning back against the sing and breathing hard.

"Deal," I heard her say. Something about her voice made me look over, start to chuckle. That adorable little dress would have been ruined had she been Muggle. The blue was buried under a myriad of other...er...colors and substances. And yet, even with jam in her hair and flour between her toes, Luna Lovegood was as pretty as a picture. But damn if she didn't look a mess! The chuckle turned into downright laughter. When she caught my eye, a smile tugged at her own mouth.

"Did we really-"

"-just do that?"

The floor was a righteous mess - smeared jam ground into flour and sugar and was that curry on the floor? Where the hell and who the hell had used curry? Water turned one side of the room into a white paste, mustard was splattered on the low cupboards and over a bit of the rug leading out of the kitchen and into the hall, pumpkin pie crust was crumbled over the tiles and had somehow gotten to a windowsill, while our bare feet were covered in ice cream.

Yep, we'd really just done that.

I burst into another peal of laughter at the carnage around the room, looking at it then looking back at her, then looking at it again. When the kitten poked his head , she dissolved as well. And that's the way Mr. Lovegood found us, huddled together on a messy floor and bubbling over with mirth, when he walked in five minutes later.

/-|-\

"Short break!" I called to my partner-slash-assistant Eric across the loud room. Monday morning and I was at The Quibbler's office for an all-day staff meeting to talk about the next month's issue. Or at least it had been scheduled as an all-day affair but really was going to take much less time to clear up. Field assignments had been assigned but there were problems with us being one short

On the agenda today was this meeting, lunch with Gin and Hermione at the Burrow (which meant lunch with Hermione and the Weasleys and Friends), and afternoon browsing in magical London at this new jewelry stop that had opened with funky pieces. A pretty easy going day as far as I could see. Maybe a spot of tea at home with Daddy and gardening in the late evening.

Sounded like a perfect day to me.

"Hour or half?"

"Half," I responded. "No lunch for me but do you want me to get you a sandwich and coffee?"

He smiled gratefully and nodded, before chief-editor snagged him and called his attention to the sheaf of documents in her hands. I grabbed my purse and my wand, headed across the room and out the exit, then off to the bathroom to apparate from their. In no time I was standing in front of the Muggle bagel shop that had become a regular favorite among our employees, and a big hit with Eric especially. It was a rather nice establishment with outdoor tables for those rare sunny days, and a cozy for a crowd inside. The lunch rush line had already formed - this might take all of my break! - but at least it gave me time out of the office. I hummed as I waited, thinking about the upcoming afternoon, then hummed some more and thought about radish earrings. I wondered what else I would discover in that shop - mayhap I could get a present for some people. Yes, since I was going to meet Dean's family for the first time since the letter (and the third time in all - I'd met them twice with the rest of our friends before this) a present for all would be nice. Adi liked to read, didn't she? Hermione could help me pick out a book. Naira was a singer so perhaps something along the lines of music would suffice for her. And Mrs. Thomas? I felt this unsettling need to impress them now. Could I-

"Miss?" I startled to see the chubby boy in front of me waving a hand in front of my face. "Miss? Your handset's ringing. And the line's moved up. You're almost next."

"Oh," I said, not surprised I hadn't heard it. Happened all the time. "Ah, I see. Thank you...Hello?"

"Luna, it's me! How's the staff meeting going?"

"Dean!" I smiled into the phone, as if he could see me. Bet he could hear my pleasure anyway. "I'm at a bagel shop right now, actually. And it's almost over - another hour and we'll all be straight."'

"Good. Then what are you going to do with all that free time?"

"Late lunch with Gin and Hermione then browsing that new store Twinkle."

"Those poor earrings," he teased. "You know, I actually quite liked them. They were very you."

I'd thought so too.

"So are you studying?"

"Yes, yes." His voice was a long-suffering sigh. "It's been four lonely long hours already and I feel a little drained. And I'm hungry. And I wanted to hear your voice so I called."

My chest felt tight suddenly, my heart beating a staccato rhythm in there. I looked down and rubbed it a little, surprised at the feeling. Hadn't I gotten rid of this a week and a half ago, after Neville's party? What was going on? Talking around the feeling was difficult, left me a little bit breathless.

"Ah." I cleared my throat, made my voice more firm. And was hit with a good idea.

"Give me five minutes."

"Eh? For what?"

I looked at the clock on the wall behind the cashier desk then judged the time it would take for the chubby boy in front of me to be done. Good, I'd have time. "Just give me five minutes."

"Uh...okay?"

I smiled a little at the way he made it a question but no time - I was up. "Bye!"

A steaming cup of coffee and a blueberry bagel with cream cheese later, I was dropping off Eric's lunch on his desk and then heading back out to get some food for Dean. It would have to be around his place since I wouldn't apparate with packages. Hunger, I could deal with. The strange beating of my heart would just have to wait.

A massive order of fish and chips, a side of tartar sauce that was more like a take-out tub than a cup really, and then three slices of toffee cake - I was weighted down with two boxes by the time I was up at the register of the small cafe where I'd gotten desert. The girl behind the counter raised both eyebrows as if she couldn't believe I would eat all of it but took the Muggle cash I gave her anyway. I stood still, shifting the one package to make room for the other and thanked the girl for bearing with me. Then I was out the door and down the street to walk to his place. I winced a little as I thought of the sort of dent this would be making in my pocketbook for the week but then thought of how happy he would be that I'd come to him with food. That would more than beat out any other troubles, for me. I wanted to see him happy.

I wanted to see him happy.

The thought struck me as odd. Unfamiliar. And my chest did something strange again. Well, yes, I wanted to see him happy. He was Dean, one of my best friends in the world, for heaven's sake. Why should that be a strange though to me? Why should the shape of those words be so strong, the weight so heavy? It wasn't...unsettling. And it wasn't heavy.

Or shouldn't be.

I found myself rubbing the space right above my heart again, underneath the two packages, and breathing a little deeper to look for calm. It shouldn't be unsettling. It shouldn't be a heavy thought. At all. But no matter how much I tried to convince myself of this truth, the thing was the twisting wouldn't go away. And I couldn't stop rubbing. Not even when I was standing in front of his appartment door, slapping an arm against the door with my busy hand.

At least when he opened door, the look on his face was worth it. Surprise, then a deep pleasure that suffused his face. He was quiet but smiling so fully at me that I smiled too.

"I brought you something," I murmured - wow, was I feeling shy? Had I ever felt shy in my life? This was unfamiliar. If I hadn't been so captivated by the look on his face, I would probably be rubbing my chest by now. As it was, I had to settle for wincing on the inside and then breathing deeply. To re-center myself. "Hopefully it's enough."

Without a sound, he pulled me close - really close, so close that it was heat...so that he was heat - and settled his face into the crook of my neck.

"You are an amazing girl, Luna Lovegood," he whispered.

It should have tickled but it didn't. And I would have laughed had I thought about it closely - I was? Because I'd brought him food?. And perhaps it did and I couldn't notice since my arms had somehow wrapped themselves around his neck and I was trying to figure how and when and why I'd done it. "You really are. I wanted to hear your voice but seeing you is even better, I think."

...Oh! I bit back a gasp as the twisting returned, harder than before. What the h-...no, what was this feeling? How could I concentrate on the present when my body was going wild? I was going to have to hire my own Medi-Wizard soon, to fix my ailing heart. Because it wanted to break out of my ribcage and lay itself on the floor. And I felt extremely uncomfortable because of its efforts. Which made me aware of how closely intertwined we were - and still hugging? Could he hear me, that my heart was going out of control - I mean, I could hear me and that was no mean feat. If I could hear me, then Merlin, he could probably hear me too! This was such an awful time for it to feel this way when I wanted to say that it was nothing, no big deal, that he was more than welcome and I'd do it anytime. I was going to have to go to St. Mungoes. Get myself checked because this was becoming more uncomfortable at the moment.

Really.

He puffed a little puff of air into my hair and then let me go. That interaction had probably taken more than ten seconds at maximum.

It had felt like a month.

With another dazzling smile, he looked to the left and right to make sure there were no Muggles and then floated the boxes into the apartment and down the way. I thought he would turn away, turn around, to go back in but alas no. He took my hand and tugged me inside while holding on the whole time. But the weight was getting worse instead of better and I had to stop him and take deep breaths. Immediately, the pleasure dissipated in a wash of concern.

"Are you alright?" I waved him off when he would have touched me. He looked a little disconcerted by that, and then even more worried.

"I just need to breathe," I said softly. The air was helping a lot already. "My chest started hurting a little while ago. I-"

This time, Dean moved to pick me up and I had to back up quickly.

"Space is good." It was a plea. "You pick me up and it won't help very much."

He looked anxious and frozen- I could see the cogs turning as he weighed my words. I could tell he itched to pick me up and carry me to the couch, what with his arms being unnaturally still, but he settled for standing on the other side of hallway. Really, breathing was getting easier and easier. Just to look down and lean against the wall was doing wonders. The twisting dissipated slowly but surely - the discomfort went away completely. He watched nervously and carefully the entire time...I ignored it. But before long I was well enough to smile at him reassuringly.

"Much improved," I said. "See? Much better."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded and pushed off of the wall.

"You still need me out of your space?"

I shook my head. He looked doubtful.

"I won't come near you if it's going to relapse or something."

I smiled a little bit. He really looked like he would walk about ten feet in front of me until we got to the kitchen. And the hallway wasn't all that short so he could definitely maintain such distance. I gabve him a look, trying to get him to smile but he wouldn't. Wow, I thought, he's really worried. It was nice for him to be so worried.

"I'm scheduled for a check-up at St. Mungoes soon anyway. Might as well make it next week so I know I'm fine."

"When did this start?"

"This one? A few minutes ago, while I was getting the food." I placed a hand on his tense arm. He looked at me, half ready to move if my chest were to go into palpitations again. "Look at me, I'm fine. I'm alright. I'm not sure what that was but I'm sure a little bit of rest will clear that right up. So, stop worrying - it's alright."

He gazed at me. Reached out and stroked my face, then touched my hair.

"As long as you're sure," he said slowly. "As long as you're sure."

"I am, I am." It was my turn to pull him the rest of the way to the kitchen, where the boxes were sitting neatly on the counter top. I turned him around and pushed him gently towards the food, then went about to get a large dish he could eat out of. He stood there, still gazing at me carefully when he thought I wasn't looking. I pretended a large smile so that he would kick back and sit down. Only in degrees did that happen. By the time I got him in front of the fried fish and chips, I had less than ten minutes to get back to work.

"Now, will you relax?" I exclaimed, "and eat a little bit? Come on, I know you're quite hungry after four hours of intense studying. At least, let me know if you like it. I've got to go back to work in ten."

He smiled and then held out a chip. I ate it without question.

"Good, good," I said around the food.

"Where'd you pick it up?"

"Hm, two streets down from here - it's called Stuart's Fish & Chips. Dessert's from our usual."

"Yeah?" he asked. I nodded, taking another chip from his plate. "Thank you for this. And thank you for coming here. Even though you're body is apparently breaking down."

It got a little laughter out of me.

"Could I leave you hungry and fending for yourself?"

"Oi," he said with affront that I knew was a joke, "I fend rather well. In fact, I often fend for you too!"

Heaven knows that was true.

"I concede."

"And get that check-up - if you don't by next week, I'm going to schedule one and take you there myself." He looked very serious about it. I resisted the rare urge to snort but he wasn't done. "I want you taking care of yourself - perhaps a little less gardening at night? Or at least come home from the office earlier, if you can. Whatever it takes, just...just take it easy. Alright?"

I patted him on the arms without actually making a commitment to any of those actions. Always worked to get people thinking you'd agreed. Then I dusted my hands off and stood to my feet but stole another fry before I started moving

"I'm letting myself out - going."

"You didn't agree," he called in a warning voice. "Are you going?"

I smiled and waved over my shoulder before calling out-

"Already gone!"

-|-

"You look fine now," Hermione was saying doubtfully. Meeting for lunch had turned into meeting-for-late-afternoon-tea instead. She wasn't touching her frosted doughnut or sipping at her tea. No, arms folded. Looking like I was a problem she was going to solve. "And you say this happened once before? At Neville's two nights ago?"

"Yes, it did."

"Do you think it could be indigestion? Maybe something you ate?"

"That affected her heart?" interrupted Ginny. "Is that even possible?"

"Oh yes," said Miss Know-It-All, as the boys so often called her, quite knowledgeably. I hadn't the faintest idea whether she was correct or not but since she was almost always correct, it wouldn't hurt to believe her this time too. "But I've never known you to have indigestion. In fact, you're like Ron and Dean. You eat whatever you want without anything happening to you."

"That's why it's so strange," I murmured.

"Schedule that check-up for sometime early next week," advised the redhead. "You'll know for sure after that. Meanwhile, all you can do is be on the watch for that sort of thing happening again."

I nodded. She was right.

"I'm going to want to look this up but there's so little information to go on..." Her voice trailed off, as if she were already imagining flipping through the paages of a heavy volume of healing text to look for the answer. If we let her daydream too far, she'd up and leave to go actually do it. I looked at Ginny meaningfully and the girl took the hint.

"Never mind about that. How are things with ferret face?"

"Peachy."

This was said with a stony look on her face. Peachy. Of course. A toothache looked less pained than that face.

"Really," I deadpanned.

"As peachy as can be in the circumstances," she said stubbornly. She still looked like...

A gargoyle.

"What happened?"

"First real fight today, I guess." She sighed, pushed her pastry out of the way and propped her chin in her hands. "All because I asked him a question."

We'd been waiting for something like this to happen. No way Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were going to get through this betrothment unscathed.

"Seriously, I can't believe the nerve of him! I had to go home and watch the telly for a whole two hours before this, before I could calm down enough. Ridiculous!"

"Hmm," hummed Gin, "well that's one landmark out of the way."

"I despise this arrangement," said Hermione earnestly. "I really do. I am at my very worst when I am around him - I am snarky and angry and irritating when he's near, and I really don't like that. I wish I could be a little more mature about it, be more mature about him but then he does something-" - (she jabbed a hand into the air at this point) - "and I'm at wit's end and ready to be cruel. How can I stop myself?"

"It's hard, isn't it, when you've been set in a way of handling that person for so long." I sipped my tea thoughtfully. "I'm not going to say anything like 'don't worry, it'll be okay' because it won't, not without work. Are you willing to work at it, even if he doesn't?"

"See, that's the thing," she sighed, "I don't want to be reasonable if he won't. Because his unreasonableness will surely defeat my effort."

Gin inclined her head. "Hear, hear. I think this is just going to have to run its course, for now. The best you can do is maintain civility. After that?" She shrugged elegantly.

...It was up to the two of them.

'Mione looked grim - I couldn't imagine that she had been doing any less than that, but I agreed with her: your effort is only as effective as how well it is received. And it sounded like the two of them weren't doing an awful lot of receiving. Or trying to understand each other. Because I love Hermione, I do, but she was a singularly-minded witch. Stubborn is her middle name. Change does not come easy to her and I've never been sure if change is entirely welcome.

"Well," I said softly, "well. Be firm and be civil. And I think things will-" I searched for the proper word, proper turn of phrase "-follow as they are supposed to. They will."

She offered us the half-smile that meant gratitude and a desire to change the subject. I complied.

"So...Padma Patil."

"Padma Patil is unfortunate to be betrothed to my brother," snorted Gin over her tea cup. "That first letter he wrote? The note? Completely unacceptable. I have half a mind to coach him through this process."

"Atrocious handwriting too," observed Hermione with a sniff that wasn't snobby in the least. Hah. "And then to decipher that...secret...language and read that note? Is it any wonder that she sent him a Howler in response?"

"Magnificent," I agreed. And it had been, or so I hear. Lunch at the Burrow so that he was set down in front of his entire family plus whatever friends happened to be over at the time. I almost wish I could have been there to see his face. "At least he's learned his lesson."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. What I would say is good luck." Hermione made a face. "Well, that among other things."

"Hermione Granger, Pessimist extroardinaire."

"Made that way by the Ministry!" she shot back. "I could do without the extra stress that damned ferret brings to my life."

"It does seem like they got a few of these 'love' matches wrong, doesn't it." I made it a statement, not a question, and Gin sent me a very shrewd look.

"Including you and Dean?"

...No.

No. I shook my head slowly. Last week, after opening that letter, yes I would include myself. But now? After hearing about Hermione's woes about the bad influence that Draco was in her life, making her feel like she was unconsciously cruel and petty around him, that she couldn't even be civil most of the time? Or Hannah, who's appeal to the Ministry had been soundly rejected on the basis that she and Theodore Nott, son of the killer of her beloved brother, were definitely meant to be together? I hadn't the right to loop Dean and I in the same group as cases like that. Not at all. In fact, it made me all the more grateful to have him, to have someone who already knew me and who already fit into my life, a man that I already trusted implicitly? I had a good deal with Dean Thomas. I had a very good deal.

Hermione pointed a finger. "It's just that you don't believe in love."

"You do like to twist my words don't you." I shot the brunette a glare which, judging by her lack of reaction, really wasn't much of one. I sighed. "It's not that I don't believe in it. I do. I do, I do, I do. I've seen it...and it's there and it exists. I mean, how could I not believe it when I see the way you and Harry interact? The way Daddy misses my mum? The way even sometimes Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, or your parents 'Mione, get around each other? It's there."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I believe in it for others. It's something that I don't see myself getting crazy about - it's not like I discount the possibility that it could happen to me. But-" I shrugged my shoulders, holding out my hands palm upwards, imploring them to help me figure out. Perhaps, go ahead and convince me. Throw proof in my face that maybe it could. Because I hadn't cared on way or another whether I would fall in love before the letter, and now, tied to Dean, I wasn't so sure. And what would change if I did? I voiced my concerns aloud.

"Say, I did. Unlikely and certainly not true at the moment, but hypothetically. Say I did want to fall in love...so what?" I looked from one girl to the other. "How have I changed the game for myself, by my so-called decision to love someone, anyone? Does deciding mean it's more likely to happen?"

"It's an influencing factor, though." Ginny looked thoughtful. "You have decided it's not for you and so you haven't."

If I could roll my eyes, I would.

"No one listens to me. It's not me deciding. Nothing so concrete as that. It's me thinking on it and seeing that I'm not really the kind to."

Gin threw her hands in the air. "Which is like deciding not to. You already think that you're not suited for it, so...you aren't. How do you know you that you haven't passed potentials in the past? Boys who did think you were pretty or cute or interesting? You don't because you didn't think you could!"

"Hold on, hold on," interrupted Hermione. "She has a point. So what if you decided to love someone? Doesn't mean that you would. Doesn't mean that if you finally did love someone, that they'd love you back."

"Thank you," I said. "See?"

Gin, like a wise old sage correcting wayword protegees, shook her head as if she pitied the two of us.

"What are the two of you looking for, eh? What kind of fantasies have you been spinning out when you think of the word 'love'?" It was her turn to look around the table. "I said that there were many different kinds of romantic love, and that's true. No couple has the exact same kind of relationship as another. But...are you two looking for some sort of contract? Something unreal? Hermione, are you going to wait until you have a guarantee that you will be the most important thing to him?"

That brought me up short.

"There is no guarantee. None, Hermione, Luna. None."

"I know that," Hermione said, looking pensive. "I do. What we have here is not even the same situation - we've been given the men we're supposed to be with, right? So, Luna, if you decide to love, it has to be Dean." She winced. "Heavens but I hate the 'have to' part of this. Where do they get off just deciding for us? It's not as if we have a choice in who we're going to fall in love with - it's not a kind suggestion, it's a mandate."

"That aside, though," interrupted Gin impatiently. "That, aside, there are no guarantees in any relationship. I don't always - actually, it's a 50%-50% thing these days - see eye to eye with Harry. I expect to be extremely important to him, and we've come along far enough, that I know without a doubt that he loves me. But I'm not looking for a guarantee that we'll always be together. Though I think we will," she said with a little laugh, "

"The whole world knows you will," quipped Hermione. "His confession on the war field of the Last Battle has made sure of that."

I laughed. "Too true. I'm not worried and I'm not looking for a guarantee. I'm not even really thinking about it now. Dean and I are best mates, close friends, and it's good that way."

"And any other way?" asked Ginny, that same shrewd look on her face.

Any other way? Well...there are no other ways that bear thinking about. Right?

Right.