Chapter 5

Luna read the letter so many times over the next week that she couldn't keep the smile off her face. Most of her students figured it was some type of extreme christmas cheer. Teddy knew otherwise. He had stayed after he'd cast the spell to start the commotion, watched Professor Longbottom read a letter that fell out of Auntie Looneys pocket. Her face got redder and redder as Professor Longbottom read on. By the end, Luna was nearly in tears. Then, as Neville left, she smiled a bit and took the letter, which Neville had dropped in a puddle of puke. She brushed it off and tucked back into her pocket. Teddy wasn't a 'feelings' person. Maybe that was why he'd never had a girlfriend. His thoughts turned to Vicky, but he shook it off. She's practically my cousin, he told himself. She's out of bounds. Teddy headed back down the tunnel after Lenny and Jacob. He had to get his things together for

Luna spent the next day in jitters. Christmas was two days from now. Christmas eve was tomorrow! She would see Rolf again tomorow! It had her heart pounding in her chest. Luna was extremely glad that there were no classes today, because she knew she wouldn't notice if someone shot a jet of water and it hit her in the face. She hadn't written back to Rolf yet, because the message in her pocket (She had taken to carrying it around) Still didn't seem real. She didn't want it to all be a dream, and Luna figured if she wrote back, she'd wake up, the fragments of her beautiful fantasy shattering around her. As the night approached, bringing the next day inexplicably with it, Luna changed into her night clothes, wondering what time she should head down into Hogsmeade the next day. Laying in bed, she decided she'd be there at lunchtime. If Rolf was there earlier, it would be assuming. He wouldn't be waiting for her sooner than twelve. Luna kind of wondering what he was expecting. She wondered if he even figured he'd show up after she didn't write back to him. She hoped he still came, but her hope, she knew, was in vain. Rolf would be there. He wouldn't leave her hanging if there was even the slightest chance of her still showing up. And, beside from Luna not wanting her fantasy world to shatter if Rolf changed his mind in a letter, she also didn't really know how to say 'yes' to something like that in writing. She was only occasionally good with words. Slowly, Luna fell into a fitful sleep. Her dreams were full of tall figures that all mysteriously had Rolf's face. She smiled in her sleep when the dream-Rolf kissed her.

It took the real, substantial Rolf far longer than Luna to get to sleep on the eve of what was to be their first date. He tossed and turned and stared at the window of his small flat, hoping to get an owl before dawn. But as three o'clock approached, he resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to get a reply from Luna that night. He would have to go and see her the next day if she ever knew what she thought of his considerably well-written message declaring his love. It made him unsure, uneasy of what was to come. He hoped beyond hope that Luna would be there in Hogsmeade. Again, his thoughts turned to that moment in St. Mungo's, and he wished that he had made his moved then, kissed her maybe. What a sight that would've been. The curly-haired witch would've wasted no time in spreading the rumour that the Hogwarts Charms professor was dating the newest trainee. And he knew some of the portraits had portraits in Hogwarts as well. There would be no end to the flying rumors. He shrugged. It would've been worth it, but he hadn't gotten his nerve up in time, and by the time he had been considering it, the moment was gone and Luna was flouncing down the hall. He remembered Healer Lestrange's words. "You better get her before she's gone, Mr. Scamander." She was right, of course. And Luna wasn't gone yet. Rolf turned over and fell into a fitful sleep, his dreams of blonde ghost-like dream girls who all seemed to share Luna's features.

When Luna woke up, it was to a snow flurry outside her window. She liked snow. It was soft and beautiful and gentle and cold… Luna closed her eyes, drifting into a dreamy, blurry, snowy snooze. Then she remembered: Rolf! Luna sat up, throwing her cat, Merange, from her bed. She landed with a loud yowl and streaked under the dresser. Luna stuck her tongue out at the white-with-black-spots coloured cat who's bright blue eyes glared at her from under the dresser. One of them, the left, was cloudy white. For all Luna knew, the cat had always been part blind in that eye. Another way that being a teacher was better than a student is that you weren't limited to only one pet. Luna tossed back the feather tick and heavy blue and bronze quilt, placing her feet on the braided rag carpet. The walls in her bedroom were draped with blue hangings. The dresser and small mirror were accented in a rustic shade of tarnished bronze. It was a really beautiful space. The rug was a pale orange and yellow. A small sphere of light hung in the middle of the room. She had charmed it up there herself. It was a really useful spell she had created herself. The glow grew and diminished according to the general mood in the room. Right now, it was spreading a soft pink light over the room, a glow similar to the one it cast when she was dating Neville. But now it seemed stronger, more intense than how she remembered it. Maybe it was a trick of her memory. Maybe not. Luna didn't bother to wonder. Instead, she stared at her large wooden closet with the bronze-handled doors. What did you wear for a first date? Neville she had known for so long that it had hardly mattered. Rolf, on the other hand… Luna stood there for so long, shivering in her long pale lacy nightie while snow drifted against the window and the wind howled outside her thick window, she was sure she'd nearly missed breakfast. Deciding, finally, that she'd better get dressed afterwards, Luna through on a pair of navy-coloured robes and ran a brush through her scraggly hair, tying it behind her ears in two braids as she headed towards the dining hall. As she arrived at the staff table, she notice Neville had swapped seats with Professor Vector, who was gossiping happily with Hagrid. His booming chuckle echoed over the great hall. Luna loaded her plate with hash browns and poached eggs and tucked in. She noticed, somewhat distractedly, that Neville ignored her completely, dropping her eye contact on the rare occasion when their eyes met. Luna really couldn't be happier. He thoughts were so full of Rolf that she really didn't care what Neville thought. Luna finished eating and checked her watch. The few students that were staying for the holidays had mostly cleared out of the great hall. It was nearly ten! she had exactly two hours to make sure she looked alright for Rolf. Maybe she'd get there a bit earlier, just in case.

In the end, and just in time, Luna decided on elegant royal purple dress robes almost completely devoid of lace. The trim was done in enchanted gold thread that flashed ever so slightly when it shifted. She carefully dabbed blush on her already flushed cheeks, swiped pale pink lipgloss over her mouth and carefully applied light mascara. When she saw her face in the mirror, she nearly puked. It did not look like her. She shook her head and headed towards the washroom to get rid of the make up. When she returned, her face felt rosy from being scrubbed, Luna looked in the mirror and smiled a bit. Perfect. Just Luna. Although a thick layer of make up might've kept her from freezing her face off in the snow, it wasn't worth it if it made her look like a stupid muggle clown. Luna left her hair down and checked the time. Eleven thirty. Time to go. Luna pulled on a black coat and a raven claw scarf. She smiled a bit and glanced down at the table. Her eye caught on a small little dish made from a sea shell. Inside were her radish earrings that she had actually forgotten she had brought with her. Luna grinned and stuck them in her ears. They were the perfect little extra something. Luna headed down to the entrance hall, skipping every other step.

It wasn't actually all that cold outside, just windy and snowy. Luna couldn't see three steps in front of her as she headed down to Hogsmeade. The snow turned her cheeks a rosier red than any shade of blush could, redder than she figured was becoming. It slipped down her back and melting, making her robes feel unpleasantly slimy. The walk took her fifteen minutes, she kept slipping and sliding in the ridiculous high-heeled boots that she deemed good for the occasion. It was smart, really, that she did. Rolf was much taller than her, so much taller that it was a bit awkward. She slipped into the village of Hogsmeade and saw a lone, dark shadow standing out against the snowy, whirling background. There he was. He came. Even though Luna had spent the night convincing herself that he would, a weight still lifted off her chest, as if someone had charmed it away. Luna hurried towards him. At about that time, Rolf turned and saw a cherry-faced, white haired someone. Luna. When she neared him, she slowed to a walk and eventually stopped a good three feet away from him. He didn't make any move to close the distance. They stood in the cold snow, only just able to see each other clearly, for who knows how long. It could've been hours. Rolf noticed with a sense of oddity that Luna seemed to have small radishes dangling from her ears. "I got your letter" Luna stated plainly, watching for Rolf's reaction. He didn't hardly give one. "And? You didn't reply, I was confused." Luna took a small step closer. "I didn't know how to reply to something like that in a letter." This, obviously, did not clear up any of Rolf's confused feelings. Something told him that Luna could very well be feeling the same way herself. The air between them seemed oddly electric. Luna carefully took one small step closer. It was kind of like approaching a wounded animal, Luna thought serenely. If you went to fast, it would jump and run. She highly doubted Rolf would end up running away, but he might jump a little. She didn't want that. "What does that mean?" He added a nervous bit of a chuckle. Luna gave a bit of a grin. "Well, 'me too' doesn't sound very poetic, does it?" Before Rolf could reply, Luna cocked her head. Her ears had picked up the faintest trace of a song. It was violin music, drifting through the swirling snow from one of the open windows. "Listen." Rolf turned his ear the same way she did. The music seemed to twirl around the snow flakes, becoming louder and louder as whoever was playing warmed up their fingers from the nights chill. Luna wondered why he kept his window open in this weather, but she didn't complain. The music sounded beautiful, joining the snow like a perfectly matched soundtrack for christmas eve as the village was slowly blanketed in snowflakes. Luna closed her eyes and held out her hands, as if she was dancing with an invisible man. She used to dance like this with her father, but now he was too old. His joints weren't very up to dancing anymore. It was very sad. Luna started waltzing around in the snow, like she used to do, imagining a tall, dashing partner. Then she realized that she had one standing right next to her. She opened her eyes, looking strait at Rolf. "Would you care to join me?" She asked in an elegant, formal voice that did not belong to her. She almost laughed, and saw Rolf did too. He mumbled something under his breath. At her question, he spoke louder "I can't dance." Luna smiled softly at him. "Thats okay, I'll lead. Just follow me, no one's watching." Rolf admittedly came up and clasped Luna's hand. Her head came up to his chin, but it wasn't too bad. His hands were warm on hers as she guided his hand to where it should rest on her waist. She set her other gently on his shoulder, reaching up high. She clasped his other and started leading him to the smooth waltz that the violinist was playing. "One, two, three, one, two, three" She whispered, guiding Rolf around in a wide circle, their trail marked by shuffling footprints in the thick, falling snow. This was nice. No, this was more than nice. This was perfect.

The old man sat in the top floor of his small house that he shared with his wife in Hogsmeade. It was a sweet little home almost right next door to the busiest pub in town. He hadn't played violin himself for years, but something had pushed him to take it up tonight. His wife had already gone to bed and he was on his way, but he saw the dusty case calling him from the corner of the room. One song couldn't hurt, he thought, blowing the dust off the leather case. As he carefully tuned the strings and brushed dust from the many nooks and crevices, he sat on an old, three-legged stool in front of the fireplace and next to the grimy window. He couldn't see out of it, so he opened it, letting the rather cold air blow in. It was alright, though. The roaring fire in the grate contracted the snowy chill, and he was just the right temperature. Before settling down to play, he noticed a couple standing in the square. They were nothing more than two blurry sillhoeutes, but one was a woman, the other a man, by the looks of them. Looking down at the strings, he slid the bow across them, his fingers easily remembering the positions like an old masters would. He played a smooth, elegant waltz, and when he paused for just a moment, he realized the couple were dancing. He smiled, glad he could help, and kept on playing. The music changed. Now he was playing quicker, like a fiddle, and the speed of the dancers changed as well, twirling over the square. He squinted a bit. Yes, he had been right the first time. The smaller figure, the girl, was leading them. Untraditional, but what was so bad about that? He kept playing. His music rose to a quickening crescendo and the dancers movements with it, until they spun once and the girl, the leader slipped. As if they had planned it together, the man caught her easily, like a dancer would. The old man let the violin music fade into silence. He would continue some other time.

Luna hung in Rolf's arms. She had slipped on an icy patch, her silly shoes giving out from under her, sending her dropping gracelessly into Rolf's arms. His face was flushed, his breathing heavy. He had dipped her so low her hair brushed the snow, leaving soft, feather-like trail marks. She was sure she was just as flushed. The violin music slowly faded into the background, but they stayed like that, as if posing for a painting. Rolf's face came nearer to hers, quite near in fact. Then before she knew it, he kissed her. The kiss was sweet and solid and soft all at the same time. Unlike Neville, she didn't have to pretend it was someone else, something else, to make it bareable. This was Rolf, this was all she needed in the world. All she ever wanted. And it was beautiful.

Neville headed towards the gates of Hogwarts. He would try, just once more. Try to get her to be with him. Even after they broke up, Neville knew he still loved her, wanted to be with her for the rest of his life. He felt the lump under his plain black dress robes. He pulled the small case out again and checked. It was still there. The ring was a beautiful gold, with one small diamond in the centre. It wasn't very much, but it was something. Hopefully she hadn't found someone else already. Maybe that's why she broke up with him in the first place, but Neville wasn't going to give up now. Tucking the ring back inside the folds of his robe, he turned into that feeling of horrible compression.

Neville arrived at the Leaky cauldron with a soft pop. His eyes watering, his hands cold and clammy, he headed towards the bar where he saw Hannah, her head bent, searching for something under the bar. She popped up again, handing two butter beers to two young witches, and Neville ducked behind a man who seemed nearly larger than Hagrid. He peeked from under the man's elbow and saw that Hannah seemed unhappy. Why was that? She had always been so perfectly cheerful. Hannah turned her back to get something for a lanky wizard in pristine robes. Neville hurried forwards again until he was right near the bar. Hannah turned back around and Neville ducked underneath the counter just in time to keep from being spotted. He fingered the ring case nervously. Another wizard came up to order something, and Hannah headed to the back. Neville hopped up on one of the barstools. To his surprise, the wizard sitting next to him was the exact same man who had offered him the drink after he first broke up with Hannah. The ferrety-looking wizard seemed to recognize him as well. "Back again, are we?" Neville nodded. He was sure, if he spoke at all, he'd throw up. It wasn't as if he and Hannah hadn't talked about getting married at all, in fact, he had bought the ring months ago, when they were still dating, his hopes high. but now… "I'm glad. Miss Abbots been downright mopey since then." He stopped talking when he noticed Neville's hand inside his robes. "I hope it's a nice ring. She looks as if she could use some sparkle." The wizard hopped off his stool, leaving the tangle of weeds at the bottom of his gillywater untouched. At that moment, there was a bustling from the back of the bar, and Hannah appeared, her backside to him, pushing her way out of the swinging doors backwards. Hannah held two silver platters of what appeared to be sandwiches and headed into one of the private parlours. Neville pushed himself out from his hiding place. This was it. His sweaty fingers pulled the case from his pocket, weighed it in his hand, then put it back. He'd take it out when she got there. And Hannah did get there. Neville saw her, close up, for the first time in months. She looked terrible. Her hair was frizzy, but not too tangled, and her beige-coloured apron was covered in messy stains. She wore old plain black robes, but Neville thought she had never looked more beautiful as he dropped to one knee. Hannah's mouth fell open. She dropped the empty platters she was carrying. They fell with a crash and trembled like a cold child, drawing the eyes of everyone in the pub to them. Neville pulled the ring out and flipped the lid open. "Hannah Abott. I know it's been too long. But I don't want to live without you. And I hope you realized my mistake of letting you go. Hannah, will you marry me?" Hannah stood there with her mouth wide open, her hands slack at her sides. Slowly, her right one found it's way up to her mouth.

Hannah didn't know what to think. Not. At. All. One minute, she was serving tea to two rich-looking men in a private parlour, the next, she dropped the two now-empty trays and there's Neville, on one knee. Proposing. Hannah never remembered her dreams. She had hardly one instance in her life when she did. But if she could, she was almost sure this would be the one she dreamt most often in the last few months. She had ended it with Neville because it wasn't going anywhere. Nothing was happening. It was like it was at a stalemate, where no one could make any moves. But maybe it was because this was the next move. She was about to answer "No," or "I need to think about it" When she stopped and considered this from both sides. It would be near impossible to get Neville back after this. But was she ready to get married? All these thoughts danced through her head in a matter of seconds. Finally, she remembered something her Aunt Amelia had once told her. She had never married, but she told a story of a handsome witch she had met once and fallen in love with. They had been pretty serious, too, by the way she told it. But before they could get married, Lord Voldemort had risen to power the first time. Her husband-to-be had been brutally murdered as one of the first muggle-born killings. The moral she told to that story was never fail to act. She figured if they had eloped, they might've had a bit more time together. Even though not the exact same set of circumstances applied here, they were close enough to help Hannah make her decision.

"Yes!"


Sorry for the wait, my internet broke at home so I had to wait to get to school. Expect a new one soon.