The next two weeks were difficult for Harry. Luna remained out of sight no matter how desperately he hoped to see her. The only indication at all that she was still in the castle was the way the pillows were arranged on his bed. One week in the middle of the previous winter, Luna had been ill for two days. On those days his pillows were perfectly straight, a smooth line running along the edges; Luna always pulled up the inside corners, for whatever reason she had never explained. He sighed as he entered his room the night before he was to leave. She had been there, but she again ignored the letter he had left for her. It sat on the night stand, bold as brass, with the seal unbroken.

The traveling party riding to Burrow had quadrupled in size from Harry's last trip. Along with the guards were his parents, their servants, a few well-to-do members of society, and those who had a horse and could afford to spend the day away. Harry wanted nothing more than to get the whole ordeal over with; well, almost nothing. Yet Lady Lily refused to go much faster than a happy trot as doing so rattled her carriage uncomfortably. The caravan left three days before the wedding and arrived just before nightfall on the eve of the event.

King Arthur seemed not at all worried about the late hour and ordered a guard to escort everyone to the dining hall where he and his family were feasting. James was seated to the right of the king, Lily on his right and across from Queen Molly, and Harry sat next to his mother, facing Ginevra. The princess appeared more radiant than before, her gown for the evening a soft cream with golden accents that lit up her face. Harry's breath caught for a moment as he stared. She wore the same necklace as before, even though the silver and green stood out harshly.

It was hard for Harry to eat anything, even after such a long journey. Between the twisting feeling in his innards, the lovely creature before him, and the attention grabbing entertainment around the table, it was difficult to concentrate on the meal. He had already been fooled by the jesters; two men who looked astoundingly alike save for one was missing an ear. At first Harry assumed it was a trick until he saw them both side by side.

Harry was very thankful that his father monopolized the conversation with the king and Ginevra stayed silent during the meal. He could not think of a single thing to say when the king was so cheerful and the princess was so very emotionless. His mind wandered frequently and he had to forcefully shove the thoughts of home and of her away. It was a great relief when the king rose from his chair and wished them all a good night.

It was a fruitless wish. Harry was uncomfortable in the bed that was made strangely, with sheets that were too warm due to too many coals in the warming pan. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Luna or Ginevra, but never both, and each gave him an ill feeling. When the sun finally began to rise and cast a radiant gleam into his room, he jumped out of bed, wishing to free himself from the restless slumber as soon as possible.

Harry wandered the castle, running into only a few servers preparing for breakfast. He wasn't certain where he was allowed to go, but no one told him that he was unwelcome where he walked. He began to feel a vague sense of familiarity when he realized he was on his way to the princess' bedroom. Without further persuasion, he picked up his pace and, after taking only one wrong turn, was facing the blank door without a clue what he intended to do next. He had little to do but knock, so he raised his arm and tapped quietly on the door.

At first he thought the lady might still be sleeping, but he heard something hit the floor on the other side of the door. He knocked again and whispered loud enough for his voice to carry though the door, "Princess? It is Sir Harry."

"Aren't you aware," Ginevra spoke back harshly as the door swung open, "that it is bad luck to look at the bride on her wedding day?"

If she were going to a wedding, it looked to be one far away and not her own. She wore an unremarkable grey gown, something he saw on a lot of the peasant girls where he lived. His mind raced to a particular peasant girl before he returned to the situation.

"Luckily for you, I have no intention of being married today." The princess wore a mischievous smile and held in her hand a letter. "I intended to leave this here for my father to find, but if you'd like to deliver the peace treaty to him yourself, you may take it." She held the page aloft, within Harry's reach.

"I don't understand," Harry confessed.

Ginevra placed the page just inside her room before crossing her arms below her bosom. "I can see you know little of war but much more of love, so you will understand when I tell you that for all the man that you are, you are not the man for me. My heart," she placed her hand on her chest, "belongs to a man already, and none of my father's best wishes will change that."

Harry's eyes flashed to where her hand rested and again saw the dangling green gem. His eyes narrowed. "A Slytherin?" he whispered harshly.

The smile on Ginevra's face widened. "We cannot chose whom we fall for, Mr. Potter. I for one am not going to wait around for my father's approval when I am nearly on the shelf and the match benefits my homeland." She pulled a hood he hadn't seen over her identifying red hair. "I'm leaving before I'm noticed. I suggest you return to your chambers before someone makes the assumption that you had anything to do with my disappearance."

Not bothering to give Harry time to put all of her pieces together, the princess closed her bedroom door and made for the rear of the castle. He had no doubt that she had an escape route planned already and the last thing he wanted was to be caught where he was. Several servants had already seen him, but if the document she had been holding was what she said it was, hopefully the king would have enough proof without asking his lowly workers.

Quicker than he thought possible, he found his way back to his room. Despite the unfamiliar decoration and uncomfortable mattress, Harry was able to relax enough to doze off. He guessed he slept an hour before he was roused; the princess was long gone. As the king apologized for his daughter's thoughtless and cruel way of presenting the arrangement, he had to admit that the marriage between his daughter and Prince Draco would be the best solution for the turmoil growing in the south.

Lord James was slightly red in the face, but he was unwilling to snap at the king for the sudden change in Harry's future. He did perk up slightly when King Arthur turned to Harry and asked if there was anything he could do to make up for his loss of a wife. James stepped forward, prepared to make a suggestion no doubt involving a title, but the words were out of Harry's mouth faster than he had time to think them. "I would like your permission, your highness, to marry a peasant, Luna Lovegood."