Everyone's delighted with the picnic idea, and it's quite surreal to find all five of us on the Quidditch pitch in the sunshine the following weekend.

Ginny gives Blaise a wide berth with a wary side-eye, but I catch the small smile on her face when she turns away. She might still consider herself to be Potter's girlfriend - even though in her mind, that tosser hasn't been to see her in weeks, now, well over a month - but her open aversion to Blaise is exaggerated for effect.

She gives me a similar amount of space with a much more concentrated look of hostility. I'll take it, as long as she's not trying to actively cripple my chances of future offspring with her knee.

Lovegood wanders around in what seems to be Lovegood-patented curiosity. In fact, nearly thirty minutes pass before she even comes to join us.

And from my girl, I get a huge grin paired with her sparkling brown eyes, her arms around me squeezing tight. A big kiss that I extend ostentatiously until I can feel the heat in her cheeks when Blaise starts hooting at us.

Why did I invite the rest of them, again? I'm having trouble remembering when Granger looks at me like this, like I'm the only person she sees. Her eyes darken and my hands run to places they shouldn't, and I can't think properly around this witch.

The four of us sit, sans Lovegood, and Granger tucks into my side, fitting perfectly. I lean back on one hand so I can use the other to lightly stroke up and down her arm and she rests her head on my shoulder, sighing, "It's lovely out today."

Yes, it is, and that's not all that's lovely. I press a kiss to her temple and I see Ginny watching us with an odd expression on her face, before Blaise produces a deck of Snap cards from his pocket and deals us all a hand.

While the girls are distracted, I think for a picnic basket and set us all up with some meats and cheeses, olives, and wine.

I make Blaise move the cards so I can put the food in the middle of us and pour out some goblets, when I hear a vacant, "Hello, Draco," from over my shoulder.

"Hello, Lovegood," I respond smartly. "Care to join?"

"Oh, yes, please," she says, and Ginny budges over slightly closer to Blaise, who looks thrilled with his good fortune.

"How are things, Lovegood?" Blaise asks, re-dealing the cards to include Luna as our fifth.

"Fine," she says easily. "It's been quite nice rooming with Ginny and Hermione." I see Ginny's eyes roll slightly and think again that the close quarters might be tiring, even among friends. "I'd really missed them."

Hmm. Granger had said something about this as well, Luna's odd statement. "What do you mean, Lovegood? Didn't you see them all the time?"

Luna takes a solid amount of time considering her cards before playing one. No one else has said anything, but Blaise catches my eye.

"Mm, yes," she replies, "but they weren't really there, you know."

Ginny seems to be brushing this off as a matter of course, or maybe just not wanting to engage in Lovegood's strangeness. Granger is perhaps a little puzzled, but it's also Granger's turn and she's looking at her hand.

"I don't know," I press her. "Can you describe it?"

"No, I don't think so," Luna absently says. "They just weren't themselves, but they were always the same."

"Always the same… not themselves," I try to clarify, clarifying nothing when Luna only nods and looks off at the flags blowing from the tops of the grandstands.

Blaise gives a little shrug at me.

"But they're… themselves now?"

Ginny finally snaps, "We're right here, you know," and swats down a card.

"Fair play," I agree mildly, earning myself an irritated look from her for my trouble. "Last question, then. What's different now?"

Luna looks back up at me, eyes too wide, bright blue. "Well.. it's as if they remember what we talk about now."

"We always remembered, Luna," Ginny shoots at her, definitely annoyed at this continuation of things. "We talked about this. Don't you remember?"

Luna shakes her head in calm, unruffled dissent. "No, you thought you did. But you didn't. But now, you do."

Blaise and I exchange an alarmed look. Granger's brow is rumpled as if she's parsing out a complex maths problem and I realise she's been silent this whole time.

"When did you start noticing, Luna?" I ask eventually, and Ginny throws down her hand.

"Are we playing Snap, or aren't we?"

Touchy. I wonder if this topic comes up a lot in their dorm.

Blaise to the rescue. "Hey, Weasley - fancy some Quidditch? Bet you can't score ten off me."

It's a marker of how desperately Ginny wants out of this conversation - or maybe just of how badly she misses Quidditch - that she jumps to her feet. "You're on. Easy bet. What do I get if I win?"

"You get to snog me, of course," says Blaise confidently, and she lands a punch squarely on his shoulder as he leads her towards the side of the pitch where a Quidditch kit is conveniently laid out. I see him wince and roll his shoulder, and I can commiserate.

I set down my hand, too, and turn to face Luna properly. "When did you first notice, Luna?" I ask again.

She tilts her head, considering. "I don't know. Ages ago. None of the others were 'there,' either. Their bodies were but their minds weren't. Now it's just the three of us."

Luna shrugs and looks at Granger, who is watching her intently. "Hermione's nearly all the way back, now. Aren't you?"

The look on Granger's face nearly stops my heart. "I… think so. But sometimes, I don't know." She holds a hand up to her face, turning it front to back, inspecting it.

Luna beats me to it as she takes it in her own, saying, "It's not your hand, Hermione. Your hand has always been there."

But Granger shakes her head. "No, I know, but… I used to feel like… I was hurt. Or had been hurt. And when I looked, I never was. Sometimes I thought I was going mad. But -"

She breaks off and I can't wait for her to finish. "But?"

"But I haven't felt that way in a while, now," she whispers. "Did you ever feel that way, Luna?"

I can't bear to know if Luna did or didn't, because it's obvious now her awareness has been at a completely different level from Granger's for longer than I can stomach. She's about to speak but I jump in front of it with rash desperation.

"Luna, why didn't you say something to someone?" I ask instead, like an idiot.

"Who would I have told?" she questions me, genuine and sweet. "It wouldn't have been right to tell Hermione or Ginny, not when they weren't really there."

And of course there was no one else. Who else could she have told?

"Do you remember the last time you saw me?" I ask, my heart pounding.

Luna considers, then ventures tentatively, "Weren't we… in the hospital wing?"

Fucking hell. That was over three months ago. I put a hand over my mouth.

Now, Luna takes my hand in her own and the gentle gesture stabs me in the throat. "It's alright, Draco."

No. No, it is not. How many times was Lovegood attacked, assaulted, raped since that happened? Has any of the Obliviation worked on her since then?

"Hey," Granger prods me with her shoulder, bumping it against mine. "What's wrong? What's Luna talking about?"

Fucking hell, I think again. Granger is extrapolating but I feel sick. I barely notice the heavy tread walking up to us as Blaise and Ginny have finished their bet. Blaise sees my face as I rise to my feet, speechless and horrified, and throws himself down in my place.

He reaches for the wine, saying, "Don't we have anything more refreshing on a hot day around here?" and rummages through the picnic basket to find some conveniently-arrived cold butterbeers.

I'm wandering off to the side of the pitch, still stunned and absurdly grateful for his distraction as I hear him ask Granger how her Wizard's Chess skills are, whether the strategy books have taught her anything new. She starts to thank him for his contribution to the books and games, and then I'm out of earshot.

I step around the corner of one of the grandstands and brace myself against it with a hand, leaning my head down as I vomit into the grass.

I think for some water and a flask appears clutched in my fingers. With a trembling hand, I swallow some down, washing out my mouth.

Swishing around another big gulp, I spit it onto the grass where I'd thrown up and cast a scourgify on my mouth. Slowly, I move back into sight of the quartet on the Quidditch pitch.

Except there are only three figures there. The fourth is standing in front of me about ten paces away, weight cocked on one hip and arms crossed, brilliant red hair shining in the sun.

"Er, hello, Weasley," I manage, still feeling the burning in my throat from the vomit. I take another swig of water, cough a little, then finish the flask.

"You know, my brother really fancies her," Ginny says bluntly, and I almost cry in relief at this unexpected topic. The look on my face must say so, too, because she instantly looks annoyed about it.

"Well, I really fancy her," I say honestly, doing my best to change mental gears. "And Granger's able to make her own choices."

"I can't figure out why she fancies you," Ginny spits at me.

"That makes two of us, but I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth," I give her a smile that I know comes out as more of a grimace.

A few months ago, I'd have given Ginny some lip about how her family have never had a gift horse to look in the mouth or otherwise, but I'm quite motivated to have Granger's only other friend approve of me.

A few months ago, that sentiment alone - the desire for approval from anyone in particular, much less my girlfriend's friends - would have been cause for Blaise to take me to St Mungo's to be examined for a head injury, but here we are.

"I'm the lucky one in this scenario," I say flatly, and thank Merlin Blaise isn't in earshot. He'd be taking the piss out of me for weeks. The half-revolted, half-confused look on Ginny's face is more than enough.

"Don't strain your brain, Weasley," I hum at her, eager to get under her skin, and dodge back a step. "No, thank you. You pack quite a punch."

I give her a wink as I turn back to the picnic spread, sufficiently recovered for the time being. Ginny has an odd look on her face at that and I wonder if she remembers decking me a few weeks ago.

As I walk, Ginny falls into step, reluctantly following. "You ought to give Zabini a shot," I tell her, "speaking of us hopeless blokes fancying girls we don't deserve."

Ginny doesn't dignify this with a response and I restrain myself from glancing over at her, but only just.

As we approach, Blaise is crowing, "Time for pudding!" as he reaches back into the picnic basket. "Granger says she'd want banoffee pie if she could pick anything, and look what we happen to have!"

How convenient, indeed. I shake my head in dismay. "Really, Granger? Banoffee pie? What is it with you and banana-flavoured desserts?"

Should have let Luna pick, I think, for more than one reason. Granger swats my hip indignantly as I sit back down next to her and I lean over to smack her a huge kiss.

"Got to do this before you start eating your fill of that… delectable pie," I say against her mouth and she pushes me back with a hand to my chest, a hand I grab instead.

"Shut it, you," Granger laughs and it's like music, "or I'll feed you some."

"Would you?" I quirk an eyebrow innocently. "It's the only way I'll eat any. In fact," I refuse to let her extract her hand from mine, "I might have a potassium deficiency."

Blaise clears his throat and I've quite forgotten we aren't alone. Ginny is staring at us, the same strange expression on her face, and Luna's just smiling serenely, helping dole out portions of pudding. On the whole, I'm glad I didn't go for the gusto with the snog.

But things only get worse - or better, depending on my viewpoint - once banoffee pie is actually distributed. I bypass a plate for obvious reasons, but I can't stop watching Granger eat hers.

"Granger, if you don't stop doing that to that spoon, I might have to take it from you."

Her hand freezes, the spoon still enveloped in her beautifully perfect mouth. It slides out from her lips. "Doing what?"

"Absolutely torturous things with the utensil. What did it ever do to you?"

She's a brilliant shade of red and it's delightful. "I don't know what you're talking about," she says primly. "If you see more than me eating pudding, that's on you."

"I wish it was," I say silkily, relishing the colour she's turning.

Unexpectedly, Ginny flings herself on her back on the picnic blanket in the middle of everything, her own spoon in her mouth. She begins doing positively indecent things with it, flamboyantly moving it around with her tongue, in and out of her mouth. Blaise inhales his near-mouthful of terrible pie and chokes, doubling over laughing.

I could fry an egg on Granger's face, but we're all howling.

Neither Blaise nor I want to leave. I catch his eye more than once and know we're both thinking, couldn't it always be like this?

If we leave, the spell is broken.

He challenges Granger to a game of Wizard's Chess, pulling a set from the incredibly-expanded picnic basket of miracles, and then coerces Ginny into playing on his team. He has the undeniable argument of needing help going against Granger, and I take the opportunity to talk with Luna to the side, out of earshot.

She wants to wander. "Are there butterflies? I'm trying to find a very specific sort of either a mazarine blue or a heath fritillary."

Slightly thrown, I ask, "Do you just need to see one? Or do you save them?"

Luna gives me a horrified look. "I don't save them."

"Well, I didn't figure," I say honestly, "but if you have a collection, how do you prove you found one?"

"I'm the only one who needs to know," she says simply, and this sort of Lovegood logic makes perfect sense. Alright, then, I think, and specifically ask for both sorts to appear in the bushes behind the grandstands. Let's see what detail Dolohov's ridiculous expansions can provide.

I slowly meander that way and let her peruse the flora around us.

"Lovegood, I'm going to tell you something I need you to keep to yourself. As you said earlier, Granger and Ginny aren't quite… 'back' yet. Nearly there, but not quite. Right?"

Luna nods absently and I'll have to take this as confirmation good enough to move on. "I'm going to get you out of here, Lovegood. You'll be going somewhere else soon, I hope. Can you keep that a secret for now?"

She looks at me, her large blue eyes curious. "Can I ever tell anyone?"

"When you get to where you're going, of course. You can talk about it all you like," I reassure her. "And my hope is that Ginny and Granger will both follow you soon."

I can make no such promises, of course, but I know I can get Lovegood out. If we could sell Longbottom, we can sell Lovegood. For the right price, Dolohov won't blink - and neither would the Dark Lord. Lovegood was no Resistance fighter, not really.

"Where are we, Draco?" Luna asks directly, and the bluntness of the question is in sharp contrast to the haziness of her tone. I know she doesn't mean this random Quidditch pitch.

"You're somewhere safe, for now. But not safe enough." This is all I can manage. How much can I tell her?

"When will I leave?"

"I don't know for sure," I acknowledge. "But as soon as I can arrange it, alright?"

Luna looks supremely unconcerned by this, trailing a hand across the thin branches of the shrub to her right. "Will you come see me again before I go? I always enjoyed our hands of Snap."

She gives me the most beautiful smile, easy and clear, and how can I refuse?

"Ooh!" she exclaims, pointing for me to look. "A fritillary! Wait, is that a high brown, or a heath?"

Bollocks if I know, but it should be a heath. "I haven't the slightest idea, Lovegood," I say with a shrug. "You're the butterfly expert here."

I start aiming us back towards Blaise and the others almost unconsciously, watching Granger swish her hair behind her shoulder in annoyed impatience as she stares at the chess board. Either it's been very much in her way or the team of Blaise and Ginny are vexing her.

"You love her," Luna says unexpectedly.

I spin to face her and she's watching me, a small, closed-lip smile on her face. It's almost a mysterious smile, barely there, except at the edges. Knowing, secretive.

Somehow I can't argue with Lovegood the way I did with Snape. I don't think I can anymore, anyway.

Glancing back at Granger, who has her bottom lip trapped punishingly between her teeth as she considers her next move, I think Luna might be right.

Blaise has challenged Ginny to Wizard's Chess while Luna continues to explore the grounds on her own. Granger is tucked between my knees, leaning back against my chest as we watch Ginny mercilessly annihilate Blaise.

My arm is across Granger's stomach, holding her hand and I'm nudging kisses into her hair, wishing I could do loads more than this. I'm hard and impatient, and I know she can feel me at her back.

She tilts her head back to look at me and I take the clear opportunity to kiss her while everyone else is occupied. She reaches one hand back to my neck, pulling her shirt tight across her chest, and I grumble something appreciative mid-snog that makes her giggle.

"Urgh, Zabini, set it up again," says Ginny in disgust.

"You beat me," he protests feebly, "for the third time. What makes you think I want to play again?"

This is classic Zabini and it would pique my interest if not for the witch between my legs. This has 'competition Blaise' written all over it, and he doesn't disappoint.

Ginny must motion in our direction. "What else are we going to do? And don't say it," she warns sharply and I almost stop snogging Granger to laugh.

Idly, I wonder what time it is and think it should probably start getting dark soon, or this will begin to seem odd.

"Fine, fine," Blaise says, as if under a difficult trial. "One more. But it needs to be more interesting than this. How about another wager?"

"Oh, please," Ginny shoots at him. "Don't even suggest gambling a snog again."

"No, no," Blaise defects masterfully. "You've won three in a row. So if I willingly sacrifice myself to a fourth game, purely from the goodness of my heart… how about Quidditch lessons? You're an alright Chaser. Can you teach me anything?"

Ah, yes. Blaise at work. I almost wish I could watch this chess match - verbal or otherwise - but not enough to get my hand out of Granger's hair and my mouth off of hers.

"I'm an 'alright Chaser?'" Ginny repeats incredulously.

"Yeah, I know you threw the Quidditch on purpose earlier, you know, so you wouldn't win and get to snog me," Blaise casually says, and I can hear the chess pieces clink against the board as he puts them back into position. "Kind of you to let me have it."

I can hear Ginny sputter before Blaise continues, "So yeah, you're alright. You've got some different moves than me, a different style. I could maybe learn a few things."

Sometimes I wonder how many direct hits Blaise has taken from this witch but he doesn't seem deterred. More power to him, I think in amusement.

Granger shifts her weight and I have a brief, brilliant flash of her turning on her stomach to snog me properly face to face, but that's probably a bad idea. I'm still having an extremely difficult time keeping my spare hand out from under her shirt.

"Luna!" Blaise suddenly calls, making Granger jump. I welcome the opportunity to still her with my palm stretched deliciously across her smooth stomach. "I need help over here."

"Not a chance, Zabini!" Ginny cries indignantly. "If we're wagering for real, you don't get a teammate."

"Why, Weasley?" Blaise asks seductively, and I can just picture his eyebrows waggling. "Are you suddenly concerned?"

This seems like a good time to refill all of our wine goblets, and I help myself. I get an eyeful of the preemptive chess match and scoot Granger slightly higher up my chest so we can both watch. Something is at stake, now.

Blaise cares much more about potentially ongoing Quidditch practise with Ginny, practise she'll agree to and remember, than the off-the-cuff snogging gamble from earlier. He's suckered her into this bet with his three losses. Not that Ginny is bad at Wizard's Chess; she seems to be quite a capable opponent. But Blaise has been holding back deliberately, and now there's something he wants on the table.

I hand Granger her goblet of wine, sighing slightly at the loss of her hand from the back of my neck. Then again, I can only support us with one hand as we lean back, so my goblet-holding has to come from the hand that wanted valiantly to reach under her bra four minutes ago.

Sacrifices, sacrifices.

Speaking of which, this chess match is starting out quite slowly and it seems like we could have plenty of time for… other things. I wait until both Ginny and Blaise have lost two pawns each and are exploring the board, testing boundaries, when I decide to test a few as well. I nudge myself back from Granger and stand, offering her a hand.

It's properly dim now, stars coming out around the Eastern edge of the pitch, and I walk with her casually at first, then picking up a bit of haste.

"Where are we going?" Granger whispers, looking over her shoulder at the trio we left behind. "I thought you wanted to -"

Waiting until we pass the next grandstand in the dark, I turn to her and say huskily, "I want to do this." I lift the canvas siding to it and duck us underneath, the stairs rising so high above us I can't see the top of the stands.

Choosing the largest support post, I sit down with my back against it and tug her hand down with me until she's straddling my lap. I pull her face into mine and my heart races at the sound she makes against my lips while she gets comfortable on her knees.

My hands rove to her arse, clutching her to me and I'm astonished to find her unbuttoning her trousers. I immediately slide my hands under the waist of them, wiggling them down her hips with her help, and grip her delectable arse under my fingers.

I can't remove my hands from her arse and I accept the futility of her hair in my face as I kiss along her neck. Why is my shirt still on? Why is hers?

Why don't I have more hands?

Her gorgeous eyes look up at me, and she takes my breath away. Not just that she's an incredible, extraordinary, amazing witch, but the easy confidence I see on her face when she looks at me like this.

Ginny Weasley is stunning, no doubt about it. But next to her, Granger's got some pretty outstanding assets herself. How could I have ever thought she wasn't beautiful? She is. And brilliant, and dedicated, and selfless, and…

All in all, I don't think we take too long. Certainly not as long as I'd prefer to have taken, if that's the metric I can measure it by. We stroll back to the group, my hand clasping hers.

"Granger, I beg you, please don't tell anybody what we did back there," I plead, my eyes wide, and she looks up at me at once. Her face is surprised and hurt and I squeeze her hand. This sort of teasing was probably mean, but now I'm dug in.

"I mean it, Granger, Zabini will never let me live it down if you tell him you had me naked under that grandstand in under thirty seconds. Your tempting seductions are mortifying. I have a reputation to maintain."

"Myyou back there, last I checked."

"'Drag'? I don't recall any dragging," I thoughtfully muse. "I think you should do it more strongly next time, if anything, as long as we can keep it a secret in front of Zabini. My reputation, remember."

"Sod your reputation, you wanker," Granger snipes haughtily. "Associating with me can only improve it. And if you want me to 'drag' more strongly without tipping off Zabini, you'll have to put on a good show."

She's not wrong, there, about my association with her being only beneficial to me.

And of course I have no such aspersions about my reputation around Zabini, who knows far more about this relationship than Granger would believe if I told her. Or maybe she would. I don't know.

I've gotten tangled and lost my place in this flirtation of whether or not I'm supposed to be letting myself be reluctantly dragged to save my reputation, or willingly sprinting her to the grandstands - audience be damned - to have her knickers off.

At any rate, all three sets of eyes are on us walking back over, my fingers tracing lightly over her hand, and Blaise takes the opportunity to capture one of Ginny's knights.

"Are you even trying, Weasley?" he crows.

She looks down, aghast. "Hang on, what did you do? Show me," she commands bossily, and I hear a flash of Granger in her voice.

Blaise points out the move in glee. "Honestly, Weasley, I think you're trying to lose. I think you want to give me those Quidditch lessons, really."

Ginny grumbles, "You need them, you useless tosser," and Blaise gives a triumphant smirk.

Ginny rededicates herself to the game, but it's clear that Blaise's surprising competence in their fourth sparring has thrown her off guard. When he and Ginny had teamed up against Granger earlier, he must have been deferring to her all along.

It's an entertaining image.

Granger nestles back down between my knees to lay back on my chest again and my nether regions are much more comfortable with the situation now. She's paying rapt attention to the rabid chess match in front of us and I enjoy the look of concentration on her face.

Luna is looking at us with a small, private smile. I return it. Yes, I'll have Lovegood out of here as fast as I can.

I'm sorry, Lovegood, I think. Fuck. This never should have happened.

"It's alright, Draco," Luna says quietly, and I whip my eyes up to hers. I shouldn't be this surprised, her mind is so unusual, but -

Luna, are you - a Legilimens? I think, stunned for what feels like the eighth time today.

"I don't think so," she says in the same low, airy voice, glancing around, before returning her attention to a dandelion bracelet she's making.

How aware has she been? Swallowing hard, I force myself to Occlude, make myself focus. I have to stop what's happening with Lovegood, but I can't do it until we leave here.

I've got a bit of hair poking into my left nostril; not that I mind, but it makes me sneeze. It's an unexpected distraction. Granger tries to reach behind her and smooth it down and I grab her hand in mine instead, pressing a kiss behind her ear. She sighs once and I want to think it's from me but it sounds sad, melancholy. Pensieve.

She twists around a little and I lean in as she says softly, "I need to get back to helping Harry. I shouldn't be here this long, I should -"

"Not tonight," I whisper to her. "Let's just enjoy tonight. Then we'll get back to Horcruxes, alright?"

I'm such a fucking chickenshit.

But she's got all her weight against me, trusting me. Her hair is everywhere and it smells good, and she feels good. Her skin is soft and silky, and leaning her head back against me like she could fall asleep here. I trace light patterns up and down her arm and she exhales contentedly.

Blaise defeats Ginny with a minimal amount of gloating, which I think is wise if he wants to keep all of his most treasured bits and pieces unscathed. He's won his Quidditch lessons from the resident expert Chaser and Ginny agrees to honour the bet with what I consider a minor amount of protest.

It's dark now, anyhow, full dark. Stars are out, and I marvel again at the detail. Or are we outside, seeing the sky? What is real? If it's real to the mind, does it make a difference?

I lay back with one arm folded under my head and Granger wriggles over to lie alongside me instead, our shoulders touching. Glancing over, I see Blaise, Ginny, and Luna all doing the same, all of us staring up at the sky.

As an experiment, I think for shooting stars.

Nothing appears.

We are truly outside.

The stars are brilliant, even stationary. The moon is nearly full, casting a certain amount of light on us, and Granger's eyes are shining.

Luna's butterflies. The dimming dusk light. Maybe everything was just going to happen anyway; I can't tell what is real, anymore.

Granger squeezes my fingers, casting a smile over at me before she looks back up at the stars, and I lay here on my back next to this witch that I love.