Late January 2003

Within a couple of weeks, Ron and Angelina managed (with the help of Luna's calculations and Hermione's corrections) to test all the remaining snackboxes. As Ron took the antidote to the Puking Pastille's, Angelina scanned him again with her wand.

"Looks like this is it! It'll take Madam Pomphrey a few years to catch up to us." Angelina looked at the clock, then the front of the shop. It was empty. The week had been quiet with students back at Hogwart's and a lot of wizards still on holiday. George hummed under his breath as he counted down the drawers and tossed a few galleons in the sack for Gringott's.

"You want tomorrow off? I didn't think we'd be done so quickly. Besides, I reckon you'll be here a bunch once the baby comes." Angelina rubbed her bulging stomach. She was due in May, just after Fleur.

"You sure you don't need to go rest or…whatever?" Even though he'd survived Fleur and Audrey's pregnancies, Ron was uncomfortable around the whole situation. Being face to face with Angelina had proven to be extra awkward.

"I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

"In that case," Ron poked his head through the doorway to the front, "hey George! You're on your own tomorrow, your wife gave me the day off!"

George muttered an agreement.

"We're still hiring more help before the baby comes," Ron added.

George muttered something about Loony girlfriends and waved Ron toward the floo.

Ron looked out the window to Luna's office. The lights were off. The Quibbler wasn't due out for a few days, so she'd probably gone home early. It was something he'd found himself doing often: seeking Luna out. They'd caught some lunches, spent a few evenings together, but between WWW and the Quibbler, their moments had been few and far between. So, after looking at the clock, and contemplating whether he should visit unannounced, he sighed and stepped through to the Burrow.

Instead, he grabbed some parchment in the kitchen and jotted off a few lines to Luna. He tied the parchment to Pigwigeon's leg before heading to bed.

Luna,

Done with the snackboxes! Angelina says thanks, and they gave me the day off tomorrow…want some company?

Ron

He collapsed into bed and slept deeply, excited to see Luna. Around 3 o'clock in the morning, Pig tapped frantically (as usual) at the window and offered his leg, then scampered back out into the night.

Ron,

Of course. Just floo over when you feel up to it. I'm working on a project, so I'll be around all day. If you can get ahold of him, please bring Crookshanks, too.

Luna

Ron blinked the sleep from his eyes and tried to shake the cobwebs from his head. Crookshanks? What the bloody hell does she want with him? Ron went back to sleep, trying not to think too hard about whatever new "project" Luna had devised.

As Ron bolted down his breakfast, his mum fussed over him. "Ron, it's your day off, don't rush off so quickly. What could you have planned anyway?"

"I'm headed over to Luna's…" he mumbled into his toast. Arthur pulled his paper down a few inches to glance at his youngest son.

Molly stopped her bustling to look at him, hands on her hips. "And what do you have planned? You could always stay around here. I'd love to see Luna!"

Arthur's eyes sparkled and he raised his eyebrows at Ron.

"Mum, uh, I think she already has something planned. She said something about a project and tracking down Crookshanks…"

"Crookshanks?" Molly looked at him, confused. "Hermione's cat?"

Arthur's paper shook as he covered his face again.

"I don't know, mum. You know how Luna is. It's probably something barmy."

"Hmph." Molly went back to doing the dishes. "Well, I'll send you over with a hamper of sandwiches. Poor dear looks like she doesn't eat. If I could give Xeno a piece of my mind, sending her back here to live on her own…"

After breakfast, Ron dressed and flooed over to Luna's. It was a bit early, but she did say to stop by "whenever…"

When he stepped out of the floo into Luna's house, he was startled by the state of the room. It was a disaster. Bits of parchment and quill littered the floor, and books were stacked in odd places. Luna was much more orderly most of the time. There was a pile of blankets on the couch, and remains of takeaway containers on the table. It was also eerily quiet.

"Luna?" he asked, pulling his wand out. Something wasn't right. "Luna?" he said a bit louder, becoming more concerned.

The jumble of blankets on the couch stirred, and a blonde head popped out of them. Luna blinked a few times, then smoothed her hair down a bit.

"Ron!" she looked around his feet. "Crookshanks?"

"Crookshanks lives with Hermione. And is a menace. It's nice to see you, too."

"Whyever is your wand out?"

"Because the place is a disaster and you were nowhere to be found. Got a little nervous. Is everything okay?" He glanced around again.

"Oh, this…" she said, waving her wand and muttering. The papers stacked themselves neatly, the quills jumped back into the desk, and the books flew back to the shelf. "I'm working on a project."

Ron sat down on the free end of the couch. "And you needed the cat?"

"Half-Kneazle," she corrected, re-arranging the blankets and settling closer to Ron. "Seamus mentioned that Ireland was having a problem with feral Kneazles, so naturally I thought about what happened in Bulgaria in 1524."

"Naturally."

"So then I came to realize that it's likely that Ireland has formed its own magical government, in an effort toward separatism."

Unsure of how to respond, Ron defaulted to agreement. "Naturally."

"Which means no one is properly monitoring the Kneazle population, or else the Irish government is breeding them for their own purposes. I'd to write an article about it for the Quibbler, but to do that, I need to learn more about Kneazle reproduction."

"As one does."

"So that's why I wanted to talk to Crookshanks. He may have a new perspective."

"A new perspective?"

"Yes, on Kneazle reproduction."

"Well, Luna, when a boy Kneazle likes a girl Kneazle…"

Luna slapped him lightly on the arm and giggled. "That's not what I'm talking about. I was hoping Crookshanks knew something about mating and birthing rituals."

"He's a cat. He doesn't talk."

Luna thought about this for a minute, as if it were new information. "That does throw a pixie in the cauldron. It seemed like a good idea at 3 in the morning."

Ron glanced around the room again. "How much sleep did you get last night?"

"I drifted off around six when I got frustrated. For things to be happening the way I think, the Irish government has been undercover since at least 1975. So where were they during the wars? And how do you explain the Leprechaun behavior in 1992? It was a disaster."

Ron patted her on the arm. "Um, why don't I come back later? I think you could use a few more hours sleep."

"I could. But you could stay."

"And do what?"

She gestured to the bookcases that lined the walls. "Read? Play chess? Or you could always have a kip with me? Ginny says you can sleep just about anywhere and anytime." She looked up at him hopefully.

Ron smiled back. He could kip just about any time. So the pair snuggled up on the couch, Luna spooned against Ron's chest. His hand drifted over her soft skin and found the curve of her hip. Ron drifted off thinking about how perfectly she fit, their legs tangled together under the blankets.

A few hours later, he awoke to the sound of the floo activating. By instinct, he grabbed for his wand before whispering, "who's there?"

"Oh, gross," said his sister's voice said from the fire. "Please tell me you're wearing clothes."

"Yes we're wearing clothes," Ron hissed. "What d'you want?"

"Luna send Badius over last night…something about Crookshanks. I wanted to figure out what she wanted."

Ron looked down at his girlfriend and shook her arm a bit. "Luna, Ginny wants to talk."

She turned over, burying her face in his chest, talking incoherently.

"Luna." He shook her arm a bit again.

"She's almost impossible to wake up," supplied Ginny, looking annoyed. "Once she fell asleep in the library and I had to augumeti her awake."

"But you can't cross-breed them with foxes..." Luna mumbled into Ron's chest. His arm was trapped underneath her.

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Ginny said, "hold on a minute..." and her head withdrew. A moment later she stepped through.

Ginny marched right over to the couch and let loose a stream of water from her wand.

"Hey!" Ron yelled, grabbing at his own wand. But Luna woke at that moment, shooting up so quickly that she knocked it out of his hand and it rolled under the couch.

"Hi, Ginny!" she said brightly, as if her hair wasn't stuck to the side of her head and her blankets weren't soaked. "It's pleasant to see you today!"

Ron grabbed his sister's wand to summon his own, muttering under his breath, then dried himself and Luna off. She didn't seem aware of any of this.

"So you sent me a note last night..." Ginny began, as Ron settled back next to Luna, his arm around her.

"Yes, I wanted to know if you or Harry could get ahold of Crookshanks for me. For the Quibbler."

Ron shut his eyes for a moment. Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask he willed his sister.

She didn't get the message. "For what? And why couldn't you just owl Hermione?"

"Well, I'm curious about Kneazle mating hab-"

Ron interrupted her, rather than continue the morning's discussion. "She's scared of Hermione." A bit louder he said, "let me solve this once and for all." He sent his patronus off toward Hermione with the message, "Luna wants to interview Crookshanks for the Quibbler. Can you bring him by the Lovegood's tonight?"

While they waited for a reply, Ron went off to find the lunch hamper. "My mum thinks you're starving," he said to Luna as he handed her a sandwich.

"Oh, that's just because I don't cook."

Ron's eyes widened and he opened his mouth just as a stag burst through the wall. Harry's voice, barely audible through his laughter, came from the patronus: "we were in the employee cafeteria when we got that. Hermione will respond when she recovers."

"What's funny?" Luna asked. Ron patted her shoulder a few times, trying to find a response.

Ginny appeared to have gotten ahold of herself (she'd been staring pointedly at the curtains, her face tightened in an effort not to laugh). "The way Ron put it, it sounded like you wanted quotes from a cat for the Quibbler or something…"

"Half-Kneazle," Luna corrected, taking a bite of her sandwich.

An otter bounded into the room, and Hermione's voice came out. "Luna dear," she said, her voice carefully controlled, "Crookshanks doesn't like the floo, but you're welcome to come over around 6 tonight if you'd like to visit with him."

"Bets on whether Seamus just witnessed all that?" Ginny asked the pair. Ron bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. If Seamus knew... Ron was pretty sure he'd never hear the end of it.

"Oh, I do hope so. He can give me some good insight about the shadow government operating in Ireland."

Ginny opened her mouth to ask a question. Ron shook his head a little. She shut it, and looked back and forth between them while she finished her sandwich. "Well, I should get going…"

"Nice seeing you today, Ginny! Are we still on for tomorrow?"

Ron had been hoping the girls forgot. Until today he'd managed to avoid Ginny as much as possible, but somehow he and Harry had been wrangled into a double date.

"Of course, Luna." She grabbed for some floo powder and yelled out "Grimmauld Place!" before being swept away in the flames.

Luna went back to her sandwich, staring off into space while she chewed. Ron, who'd already finished two, contemplated eating another, if only to avoid hearing more about Kneazles. He watched Luna chew as she looked at nothing, occasionally nodding to herself. Ron tidied up the room a bit, stealing glances back at her and wondering when she'd come back to her senses.

With nothing left to tidy, his mind began to wander to places he didn't want it to go. Namely, he found himself wondering about his reaction to Luna's comment that she 'didn't cook'. We've been dating for three weeks. I don't need her to cook for me. It's not like I'm proposing tomorrow, there's no reason to feel so disappointed.Rather than allow himself to continue down that path, he cleared his throat. She looked to him with a smile. "Hi, Ronald!"

"Hi, yourself. You left for a few minutes."

"Oh, I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

Luna giggled. "We never just think about one thing at a time, Ron."

"Speak for yourself."

"Maybe you just aren't aware of what you're thinking." Ron thought about that for a minute, pretty sure that he'd notice if he thought about a bunch of things at once. Luna continued, "I was thinking about the Kneazle problem and Ireland. But I was also wondering in the corner of my mind how Ginny's doing, because she's been owling Hermione more lately. Then another part of my mind was thinking about visiting Hermione tonight, and how I know she's not mad or jealous, but she can be a bit inflexible and has a temper and I'd not like to be on her bad side. Finally, I was thinking about how happy I am that you're helping me research for this article." She smiled brightly at him and kissed his cheek.

"So what were you thinking about?" she asked, as she burrowed into his side.

He tried to stop the thoughts of who could or could not cook. "Uh…"

She sat up and her silvery-blue eyes burned into his. "What's wrong?"

It's like she's a bloody legilimens… "Nothing's wrong, I was just wondering about something you said earlier."

"About the Kneazles?"

"No, about cooking."

"Oh, that. Your mum worries because she knows I don't cook. Don't tell Hermione, but we always had a house elf."

Ron's eyes widened, as if Hermione would spring from the shadows and hex them all. Anyway, the Lovegoods didn't seem like the house-elf type.

"Mum's family was old-fashioned pureblood. When my grandparents died, before I was born, Dotty came to live here. But she died while I was at Hogwarts." She looked back at Ron. "Don't look at me like that! We treated her quite well. She had a little room in the attic and never wanted for anything. There was a long time when she was my best friend. It was better than selling her to the Malfoys or something! And I don't suppose she would have wanted clothes. People and creatures are the same; they're much more comfortable with what they know. Anything new seems like a disaster."

"So then who cooked after that?

"Well, my dad and I muddled on. He got quite good at a few things. Fish. We ate a lot of fruit and bread and the like…"

Ron tried to imagine a home without the smell of mince pie from the oven, or treacle tart for dessert. Heck, his mum's treacle tart was probably why Harry stuck around all those years. "So you never learned to cook? Or never wanted to?"

"Oh, I'm terrible at it! I tried for awhile, even tried approaching it like potions, but everything turns out like cardboard or hard as a rock. Hagrid's probably a better cook than I." She looked at Ron's dumbstruck expression. "Why would you assume I could?"

"Because you're a gi – a –" Luna raised her eyebrows as he stuttered. "A person who lives alone," he finished, hoping they could change the subject.

"You're a person who used to live alone. Can you cook?" Her eyes were piercing and her tone serious.

Ron thought over his days living alone. "Well, I got takeaway a lot, or ate at my mum's. I can pull off bacon and eggs. Toast. So not really." Luna's response hit him. "Oh…sorry…I just…"

She settled back against him. "Put your foot in your mouth?"

At 6:00, the pair flooed to Hermione's to talk to Crookshanks. Luna seemed much more interested in the cat than in greeting Hermione, and she quickly scooped him up and took him to the guest room. To his credit, Crookshanks seemed to relish Luna's attention, and began purring as soon as she picked him up.

This left Ron and Hermione alone in the sitting room, on opposite armchairs. While they were generally OK in one another's company, they were rarely alone together. Let alone with Ron's new girlfriend in the other room, interviewing a cat for a newspaper.

"So what are you doing here, anyway?" Hermione asked after a few moments of awkward small talk. "She could have come by herself."

Ron straightened up. "I'm being supportive, if you must know."

A smile twitched at the corner of Hermione's mouth. "So this is your life now? Interviewing cats and the like? Will you be going on a hunt for the Snorkack soon?"

"I don't – I don't know." Ron flopped back down on the chair, then tossed his legs over the armrest. He tilted his head back to look at the bedroom door, then cast a muffliato in that direction. "Look, I think I'm having second thoughts…I mean, the whole thing is mad."

Hermione continued to look amused. "You knew she was barmy eight years ago when you met her. It can't be a surprise. You're dense sometimes, but not that dense."

"No, not that…" Ron tried to think of a way to explain himself that wouldn't get him hexed. Hermione had much more of a temper than Luna. "She can't cook. Hermione, how can we have a relationship if she can't cook? You can at least muddle through and make something edible, given the right conditions, but she said she's worse than Hagrid!"

Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing. "And what about Luna would lead you to think that she had any ability or placed any value on something normal?"

"Well, she's a girl…I just assumed." As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it.

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY," Hermione yelled, and leapt to her feet. She smacked him a few times with a throw pillow. "You are the most insensitive prat I've ever met. Don't tell me you said that to her!"

"I might've implied…"

Hermione smacked him again, just as Crookshanks shot back through the room and began winding through Hermione's legs. Luna followed, looking unperturbed but lightly batting around her head. "The buzzing," she murmured, and Hermione cancelled the muffliato.

Luna's gaze settled on Ron. "What'd he do?" she asked cheerfully.

"Told me some of his thoughts on cooking and its connection to gender."

"He who assumes…" Luna said, trailing off.

Hermione finished, "makes an ass of you and me? Isn't that how the saying goes?"

"Hmm? I suppose that would work. I always say, 'he who assumes has very little imagination,' but your way works better. Although I don't think Ron's making an ass out of you and I. Only himself."

Hermione nodded in agreement while Ron continued to cower on the couch. "Done with Crookshanks?" she asked.

"Yes, he doesn't seem to be very talkative tonight. I may need to find a full Kneazle. Thank you so much for your help!"

"You're welcome, Luna." She fidgeted a bit. "So, I just wanted to apologize on behalf of Bran for…New Year's…I know it's been a few weeks, but I feel so bad about the whole thing."

Luna waved her off. "Forgiven and forgotten. You're not responsible for his behavior."

"Thank you," Hermione replied. "There was something I wanted to ask you guys, too. And I couldn't ask with Harry around…um…is Ginny doing OK? She came over the other night pretty upset, and all I could get out of her was that she didn't like the bridesmaid dresses that Hannah picked out. And last week Harry beat her at chess and she nearly threw the board across the room."

Luna and Ron shared a Look. Of course Hermione would pick up on Ginny's moods. And make it her business. He gestured in Luna's direction. Luna looked back at him, as if she didn't understand. After a few back-and-forth, raised eyebrows and emphatic gestures, Ron gave in. "Luna has theories, but nothing that's ours to share. I'm sure she'll be fine. 'Course, I believe she's just crazy. Should ship her off to Mungo's to keep everyone safe."

Luna glared at him.

"Or slip her a calming draught?" he said weakly. Now Hermione was glaring at him. "What?"

"Just because she's your sister doesn't mean she's not our friend," said Hermione. "And you, of all people, should know how awful it is to potion people against their will. Remember Romilda Vane?"

Ron looked at the pair. Hermione, her hand on her wand. She was at the end of her fuse. Luna appeared much more serene, but her eyes were steely. While she wouldn't hex him (he didn't think), he certainly didn't want to be on the bad end of her mood. She could cut to the core in the right circumstances. Perfect. My ex-girlfriend and current girlfriend, two of the most powerful witches I know, are ganging up on me.

"I think I should go home…" he choked out.

"Before you say something else stupid?" asked Hermione.

"Probably."

"Will you see me home first?" asked Luna. "You'll need to get the hamper back to your mum."

They flooed back to Luna's, and she handed him the hamper before kissing him goodbye. Then her eyes burned into his. "It frightens you, doesn't it?"

"What? Hermione?"

"No, the cooking thing."

He tried to figure out what Luna was getting at. "Why would it frighten me that you can't cook?"

She smiled at him. "It's not the cooking that frightens you. It's your reaction to it. If you're disappointed, that means your mind is thinking of the future. And that's what frightens you." She squeezed his hand once. "You should go."

Ron didn't sleep quite as well that night.