January 2003

Ron had to do something. In a few short days Luna would be at the Burrow for Sunday Dinner. Worse still, so would at least a couple of his brothers, Ginny, and Harry. If they caught even the slightest whiff of discomfort, they would pounce. Not that he couldn't handle them. But he just didn't particularly want try to explain something that he hadn't yet figured out.

The remainder of New Years had been fairly uneventful. Harry and Seamus had turned in early, since they were on duty the next day. Hermione, Bran, Neville and Hannah had floo-ed to their respective homes (although when Bran stepped into the fire, it sounded suspiciously like he was going to Hermione's). Ron stayed up for a bit with Dean, playing Snap and pointedly ignoring his sister. But eventually he'd retired to his Grimmauld room, and Dean bunked with Seamus in the guest room.

For the next few days he'd worked with George and Angelina, but he'd been distracted. Pygmy Puffs were accidentally left to wander the store, Ton Tongue Toffees were mixed up with Skiving Snackboxes, and worst of all, the Headless Hats and the Humourous Hats (which turned the wearer into one of six famous wizards or a goat) got all jumbled up on the shelves. The shop, which usually perched on the edge of chaos, was well beyond any semblance of normal.

Early Friday afternoon (after Ron nearly dropped a box of fireworks into the floo), George gave up and sent him home. Ron idly wondered whether he'd take back his portion of the shop. Ron probably deserved it.

He paced the Burrow kitchen, pausing periodically to snatch a bite from the icebox.

"Oh, nut up, Ron," he finally muttered to himself. Taking his wand, he sent a patronus through the wall and returned to his pacing.

Within minutes, a silvery hare bounded into the room and sat in front of him. "I put you on the Floo list a few weeks ago so you don't have to apparate. Come on over," said the gentle voice.

Rather than give in to the temptation to try to decipher Luna's tone, Ron simply took a pinch of Floo powder and called out "The Rookery!" into the green flames.

He stepped out of the fireplace, his hands shaking with nervousness.

Luna sat, cross legged, in the center of the living room. Her hair was in a long braid and she was wearing fitted muggle trousers and a vest rather than her usual skirt. She exuded an aura of peace and calm.

"Good afternoon, Ronald!" she greeted him gaily. As if his mind weren't going faster than Ginny's new broom.

Ron self-consciously glanced around the room, feeling out-of-place. The sunny room was the definition of light, calm and harmony, and Luna seemed to radiate the same. Ron was sure his nervousness would send all this peace into chaos.

Might as well get on with it.

"Luna…" he began, taking a deep breath. "I was thinking…" he found himself staring at the floor, at his shoes, at her loosely clasped hands as she just sat there with mild interest, not getting up, not moving, just looking expectant… "Um, so, what you said at New Years, I thought about it, and you wanted to know what I wanted, and I'm still not all the way sure."

She blinked a few times, her face still placid.

He continued, "so I think you should know that I still think you're barmy."

"That didn't come out how you meant it, I hope?" she responded with a wry smile.

Ron's eyes widened. "Oh, no, I mean…I don't agree with you on things, and some of what you say is mad, but I think I realized that's why I look forward to your notes, or seeing you. I figure that nothing is ever boring when you're around. And it's good exciting, not like, Harry-exciting where we almost die all the time. But you have to admit you're not like everyone else, and sometimes that takes getting used to."

Luna continued to calmly listen to Ron's rambling, not responding.

"But I'd like to. Get used to it, I mean, get the chance to get used to it. And I'm not ashamed of being seen with you or whatever, because you're brilliant and definitely more powerful than Bran-bloody-Owens, and if anyone else says something rude, I'll give them the what-for…"

She smiled at him from her cross-legged seat on the floor, the afternoon sun glinting off her hair.

Ron slowed down a bit and continued, "so anyway, I think I'm saying I realized that I fancy you, and that I can accept what that means, even if I don't always agree with you."

The house was silent for a moment as Luna looked back at him, her head cocked to the side.

"Very well, Ronald," said Luna, looking up at him expectantly.

Ron, still getting used to Luna's refusal to conform to social norms, puzzled over whether she was stubborn or just naïve to the way things were supposed to go. Sitting on the floor in a spot of sunshine was not the response he was intending or expecting.

"So…?" He met her eyes, finally, to find her studying his face again.

"Well, I suppose you can kiss me, since it seems that's what you'd like to do."

He once again gathered his courage (Merlin, you'd think it'd stick at some point) and strode over to Luna, offering his hand. As he helped her off the floor he pulled her close and held her by the waist. He had to stoop slightly to meet her lips, but she rose on her tiptoes to bridge the gap. As they had been on New Years, her lips were soft, but this time she was more enthusiastic in returning the kiss.

The churning in Ron's stomach turned to butterflies. It had been far too long since he'd kissed someone like that and meant it.

The kiss ended with Ron feeling as if he had just a bit of firewhiskey in his blood, and he pressed his forehead to Luna's. Her eyes seemed to be processing everything that had happened in the past 10 minutes.

"So what now?" Luna asked.

"Well, I've been informed that I need to behave more like a gentleman, so I reckon I should take you out on an actual date."

"Ok. Let me change first though, this isn't really appropriate…" and she wandered up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Um, Ok…I'll just wait here…" Ron said, then muttered, "I meant eventually, but in for a knut, in for a galleon…" The spontaneity of the suggestion hadn't fazed Luna at all, so he figured he'd just go with it.

She returned to the living room quickly, in her usual skirt and jumper. And bare feet and butterbeer necklace.

"Shoes?" he asked with a grin.

"Of course!" She quickly conjured a pair of boots. "Where are we going?"

"I hadn't gotten that far," Ron admitted, his ears reddening a bit, the nervousness returning. "Muggle or Wizard date?"

"Oh, fun! I haven't been to the cinema in ages! Muggle date!" Luna was practically dancing with glee.

"Muggle date it is then! I know of two cinemas from when…" Ron trailed off, a bit of panic in his eyes. It wouldn't do to mention an ex-girlfriend on a first date.

"From when you were with Hermione," finished Luna.

"Well, yes, but it's not proper of me…sorry about that."

"Ron, if you never mention Hermione, we'll never be able to talk about anything. She's been someone important to you for half your life."

"I know but I don't want to bodge this up."

"And I'm sure Dean will come up at some point, especially because he's going to be in Hannah's wedding with us. I promise not to hold Hermione or Lavender against you, if you promise not to hold Dean against me."

Ron's panic started to dwindle as he thought about it. "Deal."

"I actually know a quaint little cinema along the coast…and there's a tiny but delicious fish and chips shop next door," Luna said.

"You've got some excellent ideas in that head of yours."

"C'mon, I'll take us there," responded Luna, wrapping her arms around his waist.

After the film, Ron and Luna walked over to the chippy in the cold evening. As Luna had said, it was small, but clean and bright. The weathered man behind the counter looked at the pair as they walked in.

"Wat'll it be?" he asked gruffly.

"Just the platter for me, takeaway" Ron said as he pulled out more muggle money.

"Your fish, is it Haddock or Gulping Plimpy?" Luna asked the shopkeeper.

"Gulping Plimpy?" the man repeated, his eyebrows raised.

"Well, they're being overfished in the river, and I just wanted to make sure, as the gulping variety can easily be confused with haddock. The main differences are that the Plimpies tend to spawn-"

The man interrupted her and turned to Ron, "Does the nutter want fish or something else? Or is it just fun to have one on an old man?"

Ron froze. On one hand, Luna was likely threatening the Secrecy laws, and he was pretty sure that muggles had no way of catching Plimpy. He was also pretty sure that Gulping Plimpies didn't exist. On the other hand, this was a test of sorts. He didn't think Luna was the type to test him on purpose, but this was his first opportunity to prove that he wasn't ashamed to be seen with her.

"Look, she just wants to know what type of fish it is so she can choose. Which I believe is her right." Ron put an arm around Luna's shoulders, pulling her closer. She looked up at him with mild surprise and gratitude.

The man behind the counter grunted. "It's Haddock. Which you well know, since that gulping thing isn't real." He stared hard at Luna as if she were going to argue with him.

"As long as you're sure. It can be so hard to tell sometimes….but in that case, I'll have a takeaway box, too," she responded.

"Thank you," said Ron pointedly, daring the man to call Luna a nutter again.

They left the shop, Ron carrying their takeaway boxes.

Luna stopped him just outside the shop and turned to face him. "Thank you, Ron."

"You're welcome. For…whatever I did."

She leaned up on tiptoe again, resting her hand on his cheek and kissing him soundly. "For everything," she said with an enigmatic smile. "So where to now?"

"I want to show you something, but you'll have to trust me to apparate us," replied Ron.

Luna took his arm and looked up at him, "of course, let's go!"

When they arrived (no splinching, thank you very much, thought Ron), Luna looked confused. "Your family's Quidditch pitch?"

"Follow me," replied Ron with his own mysterious smile, taking her hand tightly in his. He led her to the trees that lined the pitch, and down a narrow path. "After Fred…after the war, my brothers and Ginny and I figured we needed a place to go. If we needed a break from mum or reporters or anything…so we made a place. Bill did most of the charms work, and Charlie and Percy did a lot of the building and transfiguring. George and I…well, George didn't do much of anything, and I was in Australia for a lot of it. But we helped some of it together and Ginny decorated with Harry once we got back, so here it is…"

What Ron and his siblings had built was best described as a fort. It was in a narrow wooded area at the edge of the Burrow, hidden from both the house and the pitch, overlooking the cemetery where Fred was buried.

From the outside, the fort was tiny and looked like a rickety wooden shack.

Inside was bigger (thanks to Bill's enlarging charms). But what was most remarkable were the walls. Rather than wooden planks, they had been charmed to be see-through so the occupant could watch the cemetery or the woods. Even the roof was translucent, allowing Luna and Ron to look up at the stars. A warming charm had been added ("we switch it to a cooling charm for the summer," Ron added) so the inside was comfortable. Ron set their food out on the table and they settled onto a comfortable loveseat.

As they ate, Luna looked around in wonder. "So when you're all home, do you fight about it?" she asked.

"Not really. Although at one point George rigged it so an alarm went off if Ginny brought Harry out here. That's how we knew he was doing a bit better."

"You're sure they haven't done the same to you?" she asked with a smile. "I don't have any siblings, so I'm not sure how all this works. It seems fun, growing up in a big family."

"I'm pretty sure we'd know if they jinxed it. Clearly, the big family thing has its ups and downs. Ups like cool forts. Downs like Percy and Ginny."

After they finished their supper, Luna vanished their trash and curled up against Ron's chest, gazing up at the stars above them.

Ron wrapped his arms around Luna. He was still a bit nervous about the whole thing; didn't want to scare her off. But she'd been cheerful and affectionate all day, and he was beginning to relax. Things with Lavender and Hermione had been very sudden and intense, in completely different ways.

Figures that my most normal dating experience is with Loony Lovegood.

Things with Lavender had felt rushed and almost out of control…he'd intended simply to make Hermione jealous, but had gotten caught up in the whole thing. With Hermione…things had built for so long that grand gestures were the only option. And after the final battle, he'd thrown himself into the relationship at the expense of everything else. In avoidance of everything else. And she'd done the same.

Ron shook thoughts of the past out of his head. In the present, he had a very pretty witch in his arms, who seemed (for reasons he didn't understand) interested in him. That was enough for now.

"So, did I pass the test or whatever?" he asked after a comfortable silence.

"The only test was your own mind, Ronald," she replied, looking up at him. He pulled her up to kiss her again as the stars twinkled above them.