Debt to be Paid
By Pisciculus

Chapter Two:
Of Little Frogs and Business Trips

Two years later

Luna Lovegood lived alone.

Well, not exactly alone, as she did have her son, her Little Rana. Right now, the little red-haired boy sat on the off-white carpet of Luna's one bedroom apartment, drawing on the pages of a Dr. Suess book with a pen he'd stolen from his mother's desk. Luna couldn't bring herself to tear it away from him. Besides, his artwork made the book more memorable.

But other than her Little Rana, she had nothing. No one to comfort her during the two years she'd spent hidden away in America, away from Hogwarts, away from family, away from home. Who needed that, anyway? Luna didn't. Luna had her Little Frog.

The boy really looked rather like a little frog, with wide, slightly buggy blue eyes set on his round, chubby face. Even though his hair was vividly red Luna could imagine it being a deep, dark green. Dark green, like his father had been when his best friend found love and happiness while he hadn't. Dark green, like Luna had turned upon learning that Ginny had found that same happiness, when she herself could not.

"Maaaaa!" the boy whined suddenly, though Luna could not see that anything had changed. A moment before, he'd been giggling, laughing, and cooing at the bright images in his book, before quickly scribbling over that with black ink. Suddenly, though, he'd stopped. He threw the book from him and did his best to stand up, falling on his diapered bum and crying out loudly.

Luna didn't know what to do. She rushed forward and bent to pick up the boy, but before she could get her hands on him, he'd grabbed at a tendril of long blond hair hanging from her head and started giggling again. That was when Luna decided to sit down cross-legged in the middle of her living room and allow her son to yank at her hair, even if it did hurt. Really, it was the least she could offer.

That was how one Ilia Grey found them, when she knocked lightly on Luna's apartment door but didn't bother to wait for an invitation to come inside. Ilia, Rana's babysitter, was a serious young woman, but probably older than Luna herself. She had short brown hair cropped at her chin and severe grey eyes to fit with her name. How she and Luna had become friends was still rather a mystery.

"You're early," Luna observed with a smile, not grimacing as Rana gave a particularly hard tug at her hair.

"I am," said Ilia, looking down at the stained carpet with a bit of disdain, as if sitting on it might harm her somehow. But she sighed heavily and did sit down, smoothing out her crisp blue skirt beneath her legs, which were crossed under her. "Janice had her boyfriend in the room and I wanted nothing to do with it." Ilia always spoke in concise, grammatically and politically correct sentences, but if there was one thing she and Luna had in common, it was their bluntness.

Luna smiled. Though she had since lost much of the dreaminess in her expressions, and the bug-eyed Loony Loopy Lovegood from Hogwarts was a tad more normal, outwardly, than she had been before, she hadn't really changed that much. "Yes. I know the feeling," she said, still smiling as if discussing the whether or asking Ilia for a spot of tea. "Ginny always had someone with her when I would have preferred it just be us."

Ilia shook her head and laughed. "It is nothing like that, Luna," she said. Rana then took notice of Ilia, and, letting go of Luna's hair, crawled over to inspect his babysitter as if he had never seen her before. Of course, really he saw her at least once every other day, if only for a few minutes. Luna took the opportunity and used Rana's absence to extract herself from the floor and straighten her shoulders.

Her sense of style had not changed one small bit since Hogwarts. No longer forced under the oppressive rules of a Hogwarts uniform, Luna wore not the robes of a wizard, but rather, a patchwork skirt that fell to her ankles and a beige sleeveless t-shirt. Radishes still dangled from her ears, along with a pin of paperclips and bottle clips over her left breast-pocket and the same necklace she'd been wearing since her fourth year.

"You look like a hippie," had been the first words Ilia said to her when they met. "Only…weirder." And that had been the only time Luna had ever seen her soon-to-be friend speechless. Now, getting up to scour the streets of Chicago for Slack-Jawed Snorkacks, which were distant cousins of the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Well, at least, that's what Luna thought. Of course the fact that had all the 'clues' had led to them living in smoggy cities like London or Chicago had her wondering if the two were really related.

Maybe she'd find a Blibbering Humdinger while she was at it.

Luna left the apartment feeling bereft and alone. She wasn't really looking for those creatures. But she'd managed to convince the Ministry to fund her trip, coming up with enough evidence that those creatures liked populated, run-down places that she'd almost managed to convince her father, even though they both knew that, if they exist, they existed somewhere in northern Europe.

Only the Ministry was probably glad to be getting rid of one of the Loony Loopy Lovegoods. They'd have been more likely to believe Harry Potter if he said the world was about to be sucked up by a black-hole than they were to ever believe a Lovegood of anything.

With her hands crossed over her chest in an almost defensive manner and her eyes downcast in search of something to remind her of why she'd been so happy as a child, Luna did not notice the owl swooping through the narrow streets.

You did WHAT!"

Hermione just stared at him. She had seen Ron get angry before, in fact, it should not have come as a surprise to her that he just suddenly burst into a fit of yelling like that, as he did it so often. But for something as trivial as this? No. Even he could not be so petty.

"I invited Luna Lovegood," she said. "Why, is that a problem?" Well, obviously it was. Only Hermione didn't know why.

Ron sputtered, his ears turning bright red as he searched for something to say. The two of them, a couple now of about two consecutive weeks, stood outside the Burrow next to the porch. Fortunately, the rest of the family was either out shopping or getting ready for the party for Harry and Ginny's second anniversary. "NO!" Ron shouted. "I mean, yes! Yes it's a bloody problem! Luna Lovegood has no place- no- I mean- no! You can't just invite her without telling me, Hermione!"

Hermione glared at him, putting her arms on her hips in a most Mrs. Weasley-esque manner. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "This isn't your anniversary, Ron!"

"And it's not yours either!" he shouted. Now that Hermione allowed herself to search Ron's demeanor, she realized that he wasn't just angry. He was panicking. He was scared.

"No, but it is Harry's!" Hermione snapped right back at him.

"And does Harry know you've invited her?"

"For your information, he does!" If looks could kill... "He thought it was a great idea! And so did Ginny! We haven't seen Luna in ages, Ron, and if you don't remember, she was our friend!"

Ron sputtered even more, his face turning brighter red than ever she had seen it. Hermione knew that whatever Ron's reasons were for freaking out, it had more to do with the fact that Luna was coming than the fact that Hermione had invited her. She knew they'd had a sort of a tryst back in seventh year, but…

"Friend!" Ron raged. "Since when has she been our friend? She's insane! Mad! And you never liked her! Why the bloody hell would you invite her!"

"What on earth are you talking about, Ron? What on earth are you talking about? Of course she's our friend! Just because she might have injured your pride in seventh year by dumping you-"

"SHE. DID. NOT. DUMP. ME!"

Hermione blinked. And gaped. A few chickens nearby fluttered about in a panic and began shrill cries of fear. She had never seen Ron so angry. His red hair paled in comparison to his face; his teeth were barred in a manner reminiscent of a wolf being cornered by bears. A glint of something which almost looked like madness flashed in his eyes.

"Luna Lovegood never dumped me! There was never anything between us in the first place!" Even as he said it, however, they both knew it was a lie. "You're inviting her because you don't want me anymore! You think if she comes you'll be able to pawn me off on her! Well why didn't you just tell me you were sick of me, Hermione! Why didn't you just break up with me if you're so eager to get rid of me!"

Hermione finally managed to get her voice back. "That is not true, Ronald Weasley!" she shrieked, tears welling in her eyes. She had so hoped that this time, this time they would last…but she should have known. They'd broken up and 'gotten together' more times in the last two years than Hermione could even count. Her arms moved from her hips to her chest, where they crossed defensively as if protecting her heart from the pain she knew she was about to face. Why can't we ever make this work? She asked herself, feeling pathetic. Why can't we ever last?

"It is to and you know it!" Ron yelled. "And if that's how it is, then FINE! See if I care! I'm gone! It's over! BYE!" He turned and for a moment looked as if he wanted to slam something. When he couldn't find anything to slam, or throw for that matter, he simply disapperated, leaving Hermione feeling emptier than she had in ages.

Ron packed his bags the very same day, and apologized to his sister and his best friend for not being there for the celebration. His faction of Aurors at the Ministry had found evidence which might lead to the discovery of the last missing Horcrux in Algeria. Ron hadn't even been thinking when he'd told them this, but it was the best excuse he could think of.

Unfortunately, Harry was an Auror too.

There was a knock on the flat's door, which Ron pointedly ignored as he continued packing robes and random trinkets he thought he might want on his 'business trip.' The knock came again, more insistently. Ron had to rely on the age-old if I ignore it, it will go away philosophy and went on pretending as if he'd heard nothing.

The knock came again. Ron scowled. "Go away Hermione!" he yelled.

Silence. Good, Ron thought. Then…

Knock… Knock… Knock…

"WHAT DO YOU-"

"Ron, it's me."

Ron blinked. "Oh," he said meekly. That voice didn't belong to Hermione; in fact, it didn't even belong to a girl. It was definitely Harry. Ron, feeling like an idiot, stopped packing and went to the door, opening it with no small amount of hesitation.

"It's about bloody time," said Harry, watching Ron carefully. "I was beginning to think I might have to wait out here all day."

"Sorry Harry," Ron said. "I thought…"

Harry's face softened and he reached out and put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "I know," he said. Then he shook his head, taking the hand away. "But obviously I'm not Hermione." He grinned.

"Oi," Ron said, annoyed, and went back to his packing. He soon found, however, that he'd had everything he needed and had no other choice but to simply close his suitcase and find out what Harry was doing here. The feeling of unease in Ron's stomach did not make him particularly excited for the upcoming confrontation, but it was, alas, inevitable.

"Ron," Harry begun seriously when Ron walked over to the kitchen and pulled two butterbeers out of the fridge, "What's all this about the final Horcrux being in Algeria?"

Ron handed a butterbeer to Harry, who accepted it with a nod. "It's…um…" Ron began, but he didn't quite know how to go on. Harry sighed heavily.

"You're a bloody awful liar," he accused. "You know that if any such information had been found, I would have been informed." That wasn't conceit speaking, it was the truth and they both knew it. Harry Potter was still the Boy Who Lived, who had his face posted on the front page of the tabloids at least once every other week. He was important, he was the Chosen One, and he was the savior of the wizarding world.

Ron ran a hand through his hair, giving a frustrated sigh as he sat down across the bar from Harry. "Yeah, you're right. It's just, I needed to get away, you know? Before…" He paused, shifting guiltily in his chair.

"That eager to miss my anniversary?" Harry asked, although it didn't sound, even for a moment, as if he begrudged his best friend that desire.

"No, not exactly," Ron said. "It's just…"

"It's about Luna, isn't it?"

Ron blinked, staring at Harry. "How did…?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't know," he said. "I guessed. Look, Hermione told me about how you reacted when you found out. She wouldn't shut up about it, actually." He glared at Ron, the glare an older brother gives the man who broke his sister's heart, or even perhaps something more.

Ron looked away.

"Look…we…I made a stupid mistake that year. We thought…I thought, that it was the last year we'd have on earth. To be alive, you know?" Harry's eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline, comprehension beginning to dawn in those emerald green eyes of his.

"I see," was all he said.

Ron shuddered. "No, I don't think you do," he sighed. "I was a coward Harry."

"And you're going to continue to be one?" Harry's gaze had become intent. Ron withered beneath it, wishing he had someway out of the entire situation. Oh wait, he did. He had a portkey that left in ten minutes.

"Look," he said, "I have to go. I guess…I guess I could come back before Luna leaves." Ron bit his lip nervously, hoping Harry wouldn't confront his lie. "Thanks," Ron said to the awkward silence, not sure what he was thanking Harry for.

Harry watched Ron move and collect his bag with narrowed eyes, and only then did Ron realize that Harry hadn't opened his butterbeer. Sighing, he took his wand.

"Bye, Harry," he said, before dissaperating with a loud 'pop!'

Only then did Harry twist the cap off his bottle. "Bye, Ron," he said almost enviously into the emptiness, taking a swig.

A/N: Thanks, once again, to my Beta Reader, James 'Mr. Trelawney' Potter from the Portkey Forums. And also to the two of you who put this story on your favorites, but didn't review. Come on…you know you wanna. :grin: Anyway, next update will be on February 3. See, I've set up a nice, once-weekly schedule here. Luffs! -Little Fish