Luna,

I have so much to tell you.

I'm so sorry about the time. As I write this, it's late. I'm nearly certain that Hedwig will wake you to deliver this letter. I considered delaying her departure until morning, but I have something to show you and I truly hope you'll consider an early visit.

Dumbledore was here when I arrived, sitting in the Dursley's living room. So much has changed, Luna, and I can't wait to talk to you about it.

And Luna. Today was perfect. You are perfect. Part of me is terrified that someone so perfect has no place in a life like mine. And every other part of me has declared war on that part of me, because I don't want this to stop, and I can't wait to see you again.

Yours, Harry

PS — I can still feel you on my lips. I don't want that to stop, either.

Luna appeared just after dawn beside the far hedge of a primary school two blocks from No. 4 Privet Drive, holding a tin can threaded with loose string. She was wearing a dark green wrap skirt and a loose, bright white tank. Her hair was down, loosely fallen over her right shoulder. She paused, took a deep breath, smiled with bright eyes, and set off toward Privet Drive.

Harry was waiting for her outside, beaming. He was wearing a fitted black tee, a tapered pair of dark blue jeans, and a pair of grey trainers. Luna noticed that none of these had a threadbare, or even worn, appearance. This was the first time outside of Hogwarts that she had seen him in clothing that fit nicely. And as he stood there, leaning on the white picket fence, Luna noticed the contours of his chest, his abdomen. She shifted her gaze to his eyes, saw how carefully he watched her, studying her movement, and she stirred, smirked bashfully.

"Hi Luna. You look beautiful this morning."

In her final steps, she rushed into him, pulling him close to her and holding him there. She felt his body pressed full against hers, enjoyed the firmness of his chest against her breasts, dug her face into his neck, and tried to suppress the sheer thrill that was pulsing through her.

"Good morning, Harry Potter. Thank you for the invitation. I'm quite excited to see you, and your letter was intriguing."

"I meant every word. I woke hours ago, because I couldn't wait to show you."

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a thin strip of yellowed parchment.

"But first, I need you to read this. Not out loud."

She took the parchment, fascinated.

The home of Harry Potter may be found at No. 4 ½, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

Harry opened the door of No. 4 ½ Privet Drive wearing an expression of giddy excitement. He escorted her through the living area, pointing out every photo of his parents and their dearest friends. He explained excitedly that the fireplace would afford him access to his home throughout the school year.

Luna beamed with an expression of sincere joy and full-hearted relief. "Oh Harry, it's perfect. I want to see everything."

It was exactly what he wanted to hear.

He paraded her through the potions room, reflecting on the possibilities. He expressed interest, maybe, in sitting under the instruction of her father someday.

He turned into the dining room, explained how the Hogwarts house elves were falling over themselves to provide breakfast, lunch, tea, dinner, and snacks sufficient to feed a family of eight. He laughed affectionately as he explained that Dobby had volunteered to care for him exclusively, that he'd always be available to help if need arises.

He opened the door to the library, dripping with pride as he told her about his family's efforts to collect the most important magical works for fourteen generations. She gushed, laced her fingers through his, and they slowly navigated the aisles, commenting on the exciting potential of this or that volume.

Hand-in-hand, he led her up the stairs. "And this is my room."

As Luna reached the top of the stairs, she halted. Harry continued, elated, highlighting his favorite aspects of the room, but it was all lost to Luna. Her gaze had set on the reading nook, and it didn't move an inch.

He paused, noticing her fixation. "Luna?"

She smiled broadly, set her piercing eyes on his.

"Oh, Harry. You have a chair, now." She threw her body into his, squeezed him affectionately. "I'm so happy that you have a chair now."

They sat at the dining room table before a pile of at least four dozen pastries, fifteen bacon sandwiches, thirty flaky croissants, a giant bowl of yogurt, a shoulder-height tower of pancakes, and countless slices of toast surrounded by bowls of assorted preserves.

As they ate, Harry tried to recall every turn in his conversation with Dumbledore. He relayed it all to Luna. She listened with unshifting interest.

"Oh! I nearly forgot. Dumbledore mentioned something on his way out." Harry continued, after filling his plate a second time. "He told me that he'd asked Hermione, Ron, Sirius, and Lupin to keep their distance."

Luna stopped chewing.

"He thinks that Tom and I share some sort of connection, something related to the curse he cast that left this scar. He said that he doesn't quite understand the nature of that connection. He was afraid Tom would exploit it somehow, and he panicked."

Luna desperately attempted to chew like a normal person would chew.

"He said that it was a mistake. He said that alienating me, if anything, would foster that connection. So now I don't know really what to think about Tom, and how I might be connected to him. Dumbledore seems to have a few ideas, but nothing he's ready to share yet. But it's nice to know that my friends, and Sirius, hadn't left me alone without reason."

Luna looked at Harry, feigning a smile but lost in fear. Just then, Harry noticed.

"Luna?"

She stumbled. "Harry… I just… Harry, I'm so glad your friends haven't abandoned you. I'm so glad you have them back"

Harry set his eyes on hers and didn't move them for a second.

"Luna?"

Her breath caught, she faltered, and then the words fell out of her mouth like a landslide. "It's just — all the time we've spent together, Harry Potter. Wasn't it because they were gone? I'm truly relieved that you haven't lost them, but I'm truly afraid that I've lost you."

His kind eyes held her gaze for a solid minute. He brought the tips of her fingers to his lips and kissed them slowly.

Drawing his face nearer to hers, he spoke slowly and softly. "Dumbledore is my secret-keeper. By his invitation alone others are allowed to visit No. 4 ½ Privet Drive. And when he asked whether I'd like Ron, Hermione, Sirius, and Lupin to visit, I told him yes."

Her heart faltered.

"But I told him not yet. Because I wanted to share this place with you, just you, before anyone else."

Time slowed, and her hope stirred.

"Luna, I really like that it's just you and me right now. And I really like that it's been just you and me. And I want it to stay that way for a little while."

She flushed, turned full to face him.

He drew nearer, spoke softly. "When I first saw this place, all I could think about was showing it to you."

At this she threw herself into him, her lips pressing full into his. Her weight had shifted his balance on the bench beside her, and they tumbled a bit as she pressed into him. Flushing with bashful smiles, they halted just long enough to face one another, straddling the bench between them, knees pressed together and ankles kicked back.

As they kissed, his right hand was tracing the line of her jaw, running through her hair at the crook of her neck. His left hand was gently rubbing against the outside of her right thigh, back and forth like a slow, rhythmic dance, his fingers sometimes grabbing at folds in her skirt.

Her right hand was gently pressed against his chest, moving here or there to explore the lines and contours. Her left hand was on his thigh, massaging and pressing and pulling at random, heated intervals.

They gently kissed for what felt like hours. Her tongue played with his, flirted with the edge of his teeth, the corner of his lips. She gently bit his lower lip, smiled bashfully when he longingly sighed. She kissed his cheek, the lines of his jaw, gently pressed his left earlobe between her lips. Oh, how he breathed.

When the surges of pleasure were too much, he would grab her face, return his lips to hers, and slowly, passionately return her affections. He traced the line of her jaw with small kisses, shifted lower to kiss her neck carefully, first with his lips softly, then with his tongue darting here and there.

As soon as his lips touched her neck, a pleasant tension surged between her thighs. She arched her back involuntarily, lost in a distant, perfect smile. As his tongue darted here and there, an intimate rhythm controlled her movement, her breathing. Without thought, she grabbed his tee into her closed fist in moments of intense pleasure, pulled him just a touch closer.

They breathed together, moved slowly together in a shuffling rhythm. After a time, Harry rested his forehead on Luna's, and they gathered their breath with flushed smiles.

Luna's eyes shifted from his as they both leaned back, and she surveyed once more his chest, his abdomen, his waist. She couldn't help but notice that Harry was hard in his jeans, his excitement clearly visible in sharp contours. She faltered, her breath just catching, lips parted, exhaled slowly.

Harry noticed her renewed attention, immediately understood, and blushed a deep crimson. "I, er… Luna, I, um—"

She stopped him, pulled his head back to hers, whispered, "No, Harry. I like the way your body responds to me." She blushed, looked bashfully away for a moment. "My body responds to you, too."

Their eyes met in the fullest uninterrupted gaze, and then they both giggled bashfully, turned back to their plates, and finished breakfast.