March 2007

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair and attempted to sneak a sly glance at his watch. Only fifteen minutes had elapsed and he hoped that the disappointment that pitted in the bottom of his stomach did not show on his face. Across from him sat Elodie Mercier, a French transplant who had recently begun work in the same department as Hermione.

"She's such a lovely person, Harry," Hermione had said, "Give her a chance. And who knows? You may find that you are ready after all." And after several weeks of persistent nagging and not so subtle hinting, Harry had finally broken down and agreed to take Elodie out for dinner. Hermione nearly squealed with happiness and Harry found her excitement infectious. The days leading up to their date had Harry nervous and giddy in a way that he had not felt in years. But now that he was here, in the moment? He'd rather be anywhere else.

It wasn't that Elodie was boring or snobbish or anything negative. In fact, she was altogether stunning. Harry decided that she was really quite beautiful and studied her as she picked quietly at her salad. She had thick chestnut hair that hung to the middle of her back in soft curls that and enormous, luminescent green eyes that reminded Harry of sea glass. Elodie spoke with a soft, lilting accent that seemed musical. She was incredibly intelligent, funny, and engaging, and all of his friends were enamored of her. But when Harry had sat down across from her at dinner and tried to force himself to look at her in anyway other than a platonic light, he felt complete disinterest and slightly uncomfortable.

"Harry?" Elodie asked, and Harry was pulled from his thoughts and looked across to his date. She fixed him with a confused glance and Harry imagined that she had just asked him a question, or made some sort of statement. Harry vaguely wondered if he had automatically answered a question or a statement with an inappropriate "Uh huh."

"I asked how you are liking the Ministry?" Elodie offered again.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry said. "I love it. Ever since Hogwarts, I've wanted to be an Auror so it was a real honor to be taken on in the department."

"And you just started working there?" Elodie asked.

Harry nodded in response and looked at his plate, his food all but untouched. He speared his filet with the end of his fork and pushed it around the plate, mutely wishing that he had an appetite or any desire to eat because this bloody meal would cost him a small fortune.

"So, you are how old now?" she asked and Harry glanced up her, curious.

"I'm twenty six," he responded. "Why do you ask?"

"I am confused. If you are twenty six and just now working for the Ministry… What have you been doing up until now?" Elodie asked, and reached for her wine glass which was nearly empty.

Harry frowned at her question and puzzled over how to respond to her. Though he was certain that she meant no harm or insult, Harry had not had to explain the last ten years of his life to anyone ever. Every person who was aware of what had happened and what Harry had been up to were intimate members of his life. And now introducing a new person to all of his past, private mess? Harry groaned inwardly.

"Oh," he began, hesitating as he tried to decide how to answer Elodie's question. Harry looked away from her face and towards the rest of the small restaurant, searching for inspiration. "Nothing interesting, honestly. I've mainly been focusing on myself and taking time – Luna." Harry breathed out the last name as she walked through the entrance of the restaurant followed closely by a small, portly man who was at least twenty years her senior. Harry felt ashamed to recognize the relief he felt when her dinner guest clearly was not a date.

"Luna?" Elodie asked, and Harry's eyes dropped back to the woman sitting across from him. "What is Luna? I do not understand." Elodie's eyebrows furrowed and Harry cast another glance towards Luna, who was being led his way by the hostess. As they drew nearer, Harry could pick up strands of their conversation. The man was breathlessly speaking to Luna about publishers and various dates, all the while Luna was attempting to look politely interested.

The hostess stopped her journey at a table only three away from Harry and Elodie's – who had finally noticed that Harry was staring, open mouthed, behind her. Elodie glanced between Harry and Luna. "Who is that, Harry? Do you know her?" she asked. Elodie swung her head back towards Luna who, at that very moment, happened to look up right to Harry's table. At first, she simply looked surprised… but Luna's eyes danced away from Harry and settled on Elodie. Luna's cheeks flushed briefly before the color drained from her face, and her eyes landed back on Harry. The two were perfectly still, each locked within the other's stare and Harry thought that perhaps time had come to a standstill…

And then the moment was broken and Luna was turning to her guest, making her apologies, and hurrying to the exit. Harry was pushing himself up and out of his seat, reaching for his wallet, and throwing folded Muggle money on to the table. He ignored Elodie's surprised exclamations of, "What is happening? Where are you going? Harry!" and found himself walking, and then running, after Luna.

Harry hit the night air and the fog that he had been moving in since seeing Luna unexpectedly was cast away when the chilly air hit his lungs. He frantically looked around the crowded London street, desperate to see her and when Harry heard the distinctive pop of a Disapparition, he was following suit, not caring that a small Muggle boy had watched him disappear out of thin air.