A/N: Thank you for all your kind reviews! Sorry for the delay in posting, but know that I am quite ahead on chapters so there's still lots to come and regular updates. Enjoy!

October 30th, 1999 - Saturday

"Luna, I really think I should have stayed at home," Theo says for probably the fifth time that evening. Despite his words, he continues to follow the halo of blonde hair in front of him. She's moving quickly, eager to see her friends.

Oblivious to the glares of everyone in the Leaky Cauldron, watching them.

Theo knows the looks aren't aimed at her. At best, Luna is publicly regarded as a hero who fought in the war. At worst, people think she's odd.

He, on the other hand, might as well be a mass murderer for all the vitriol his name brings upon him.

"Luna," he says again, half-begging.

She finally stops and turns to stare at him. Her hair is down and loose today, no knots or braids to be found, though her shirt does somehow resemble a patchwork quilt. She's got denim overalls on top of the ensemble, and she's hand-stitched small sunflowers in gold thread down the sides of each leg. All in all, it's rather adorable. Far less showy than her mirror dress.

"Theo," she grins, "you have to come. I want you to meet my friends."

Theo can hardly deny her, beaming in her exuberance. Still, he wonders how much her friends are looking forward to meeting him.

She leans forward suddenly and presses against him. It's not quite a hug, and Theo feels himself smiling at her almost unwillingly, but it's hard to ignore how people are pointing and staring.

Luna Lovegood and the Death Eater. He can almost see the headlines now.

"Theo," her voice draws him back to reality, "people have always stared. It doesn't bother me. At least this time I got to choose the reason they're staring."

"Luna, it's not exactly the same thing. People were staring because they just didn't know you. Now they're staring because you're chummy with a murderer."

Blue eyes, solemn in the noise of the Leaky Cauldron. "Are you a murderer, Theodore Nott?"

"No, Luna, no, you know that—"

"Then it's not different, is it?" She interrupts. "They still think I'm weird. Now they just think I'm weird because I like you."

He gives up trying to tell her what to do, and somehow she must sense it because she grins at him. Her hand reaches out and grabs his, in full view of anyone who is looking. He can almost feel the hair-raising on his neck; there's no doubt they'll be all over the Daily Prophet tomorrow with this display.

With any luck, the Prophet will correctly assume they are part of the WPG and being forced to marry. They reveal the same story each day as new couples appear — the newest being Dean Thomas and Katie Bell, who despite being friendly acquaintances and housemates, were important enough to warrant a spot on the front page.

The golden trio finally comes into view and Theo can feel his stomach sink as they all glance at Luna and smile, and their smiles turn to shock when they see her towing him along.

"You didn't tell them?" He hisses quietly, loud enough for Luna to hear. She just giggles and squeezes his hand, and Theo is hardly reassured.

Surprisingly, it's Hermione Granger who recovers first and stands, pulling Luna into a hug and then extending her hand.

"Theodore Nott, I'm Hermione Granger."

Theo takes her hand as though he's grabbing a viper. "Call me Theo. I know who you are, of course. It's good to meet you."

She sits back down and gestures to the benches beside her, so Luna slides in, leaving him on the edge. He's grateful she at least realized he wanted access to an easy escape.

"Nott," a voice distracts him, and suddenly he is staring at a face he's seen a million times before.

"Harry Potter," he says.

"These are my friends. Harry, Ron, and Hermione." Luna announces, just a beat late into the awkward silence. "This is Theo. My fiancee."

Ron Weasley goes pale in the wake of her words, though none of them look particularly surprised. Theo realizes Draco must have told Hermione already, and she had shared the news of Luna and his match with her Gryffindor friends.

"Oh, Luna," Harry breathes, "I'm so sorry about this terrible law."

Luna smiles, "It is terrible, Harry, but don't be sorry for me. We're happy."

Ron's pale face takes on a shade of green, and Theo's mild humour turns into sour anger. He knows he's not good enough for Luna Lovegood, Weasley doesn't have to be so obvious about it.

"That's great, Luna," Hermione grins, "I'm glad you thought to bring Theo tonight. I've been wanting to meet you."

She directs the end of her sentence to him, and he watches her. She's fiddling with a bracelet on her wrist. He can tell by look alone that it's worth a small fortune, and it isn't a hard leap to know who gave it to her.

He glances around the table, "It's pretty busy in here. Lots of ears."

"You can speak freely," Harry Potter replies, "we've cast a muffliato."

"Sneaky Gryffindors," he appraises the golden trio more closely. He supposes he shouldn't be surprised they show common sense; they did take down the Dark Lord.

"Where's Draco?" Luna asks suddenly, turning to Hermione.

Hermione visibly squirms, "I uh… I didn't think to invite him."

Luna frowns. "Oh dear. Next time I suppose."

"Let's hope note," Weasley mutters, though it's obvious everyone heard his words.

Hermione scowls and shoots a dark glare at the redhead. "Be nice, Ronald."

Ron rolls his eyes, but his expression softens slightly at her admonishment, as though he had been expecting it and it comforts him.

Theo takes it all in silently. It's there in every moment between them. Thousands of hours of history shared within a glance or simple word.

"I'm going to the loo," Luna announces, "I'll bring you back a drink, Theo."

He stands to let her out numbly, panicked that his only ally in this mess is disappearing, but she's gone before he can even think of a way for her to stay. He sits back down slowly, muscles creaking with tension.

"She's as mad as ever," Ron Weasley mutters.

Suddenly, Theo isn't afraid anymore. He's angry. "What did you just say?"

Ron's head snaps up and looks at him as if surprised that he would even speak to him. He flushes with what could be embarrassment or anger.

"I didn't mean it badly," he explains, "you know how Luna is. Or maybe you don't, yet. Anyway, she's a bit — "

Theo cuts him off, "Luna is smart, and she's kind, and she brought me here by telling me I was meeting her friends, but perhaps she is wrong. Is she wrong?" His voice goes wintry and dangerous near the end, and it doesn't escape his notice that Harry Potter has one hand under the table. He would bet his entire fortune he has at least two wands trained on him.

"No," Hermione snaps, both hands above the table and extended to placate, "no, she's our friend. Ron just… has a way with words, sometimes. Ron?"

Ron heaves a breath and slowly returns both hands to his pint glass. "Sorry. Luna is great."

Harry Potter doesn't move, but Theo doesn't blame him.

"So you like her, then?" Hermione says into the awkward stalemate.

Theo turns a sneer on her; secret Ravenclaw or not, he long ago perfected the art of condescension. Draco Malfoy is his best friend, after all. He's about to deliver a scathing remark about the state of Hermione Granger's fabled intellect when Luna's voice drifts across the table.

"Oh dear," she says, "I think I left too early. Far too many Wrackspurts here."

She's holding one firewhiskey with ice, and one oddly shaped glass boot with the brightest neon pink liquid he's ever seen inside of it.

He stands abruptly, letting her take her spot back in the booth, and she slides the firewhiskey over in front of him. He takes a sip and then nearly chokes when he feels her gentle hand press onto his knee under the table. It takes every ounce of his Slytherin sneakiness to maintain his expression, and her palm burns on his leg, both a comfort and a distraction.

"Luna," Harry restarts the conversation tentatively, "and Theo. Ginny and I will be marrying on November 6th at the Burrow. You're both invited."

Luna bounces lightly in her seat, a smile spreading across her face. "That's wonderful, Harry."

"Yes," Hermione agrees, "it's definitely a bright spot in a dark month."

"We can go, right, Theo?" Luna turns to him, blue eyes lit up. The very last thing in the entire universe he wants to do is go to Harry Potter's wedding at the Weasley household, but he's hardly about to say no to her.

"If you wish," he replies, and she turns back to her neon pink drink with an excited laugh.

"Malfoy will be there," Harry adds, watching Theo, "maybe. Hermione, did you mention it to him yet?"

Hermione flushes. "Not yet! But I'm going to — I just… haven't gotten around to it."

It's a paltry excuse, and judging by Ron's skeptical look, the brains of the trio rarely procrastinates, so this is out of character for her. Theo watches as she tugs at her curly hair on one side, nerves playing out on her face for all to see. Gryffindors — so transparent.

"You should invite him," he says, without thinking. "He'll go with you."

Hermione's eyes snap to his, the same golden brown as his firewhiskey. "I… I will. I'll write to him."

"Speaking of writing," Ron Weasley announces, "Hannah and I finally got together yesterday."

Hermione grins, "Finally! How did it go?"

"As well as can be expected, I suppose." Ron's shoulders slump. "She was polite, and we're friends, but we both know that this is killing her. It's killing her."

Hermione's face is ashen, but it's Harry who speaks. "I can only imagine. I'm… I'm so sorry, mate."

Theo watches Ron's misery etched across his face. It's obvious he detests the WPG, but more surprisingly, Theo realizes that he hates it more on his future wife's behalf than his own.

"I don't… I don't know who Hannah is?" Theo replies quietly.

Hermione turns to him, "Hannah Abbott. She was in Hufflepuff. Neville Longbottom and her have been dating for a while before they announced the WPG."

"That's shite," Theo replies. No one argues.

The rest of the evening follows in a more comfortable pattern; the Gryffindors bicker and laugh while Luna watches them with bright eyes, and Theo watches Luna. Her hand remains warm and gentle on his knee, and after an eternity or three seconds, he slips his palm down to cover it. She twines their fingers together under the table, and Theo thinks he could withstand any amount of Gryffindors for her.

They say their goodbyes quite late, and Hermione hugs Luna tightly before extending her hand for Theo to shake.

Her scars are glaringly obvious under the table light, and Theo has to force himself to look away from the word carved into her arm. Draco had mentioned it once, during the war, when they had found an old bottle of firewhiskey and gotten supremely drunk. The night is hazy, but he remembers the look of stark misery on his best friend's face as he described his aunt's actions.

Hermione Granger has been on the banned list of subjects between them since before the war ever began. Nothing has changed; even with the forward marching of the Wizarding Population Growth Act and their impending marriage. She's a sore spot; a wound that has yet to heal in Draco Malfoy, and Theo doubts it ever will. Especially after their looming marriage. Especially after the inevitable divorce.

"Thanks for inviting us out," Theo says, dredging the words up from somewhere deep inside. Harry and Ron nod at him, a bit begrudgingly.

Theo finds himself on the street outside the Leaky Cauldron, Luna close behind him but not touching. The golden trio has already apparated away, and the night seems quiet without them.

"Are you ready?" Luna's voice is gentle, and a smile still plays about her lips. She had fun tonight; it's obvious in the way the slightest hint of a dimple shows on her cheek.

"For what?" He asks.

"To go home?" She tilts her head at him, and pleasure rushes through him at the thought that she considers Nott Manor home.

"Don't… don't you want to go to your flat?"

She frowns briefly, "No."

Theo doesn't let her even question herself. He lunges forward and wraps his arms around her, and they are apparating instantly. If Luna Lovegood is mad enough to think of Nott Manor as home, as Theo Nott as the man she chooses, well, who is he to stop her?

They land in his study — he can apparate anywhere on the property through the blood wards; guests have to go to the front door. Soon enough, Luna will be part of the blood wards and have the same free rein as him.

She doesn't extricate herself from his arms when they arrive, either. She lingers, her fingertips splayed over his chest. He tightens his grip.

"I had fun tonight." She tells him, a little soft, a little unsure.

Theo can feel himself half smiling at her. "Me too."

She reaches a hand up to press her fingers gently to his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw. Theo finally lets go of her to reach up and clasp her face, mirroring her actions.

"I don't want to go home," Luna tells him.

"You don't have to," he replies, "just stay here. Stay as long as you want."

She laughs, and his entire world brightens. "Stay forever?"

"Sure," he agrees easily. "I'm going to kiss you, now."

She's still laughing as he presses his lips into her smile.