"Okay."

She had just begun to breathe normally after nearly shouting in ecstasy as they shared an orgasm — shared in more senses of the word than she had ever encountered.

"Okay. So this is going to be a problem." She looked at him with a bashful expression, and soft, vulnerable eyes.

"Yeah." He was blushing, having released into her palm twice in less than a half hour, and having altogether lost control of his movements on the second occasion.

"Yeah, I can see that."

She sat before him, nearly topless, her chest still gently rising in an ever calming rhythm, and she was suddenly grinning full.

"I've never felt like this, Harry Potter." She sighed, awash with a gentle, pleasant expression. "That was amazing. You are amazing."

She hesitated. "I can't see myself not wanting to do that every time we're alone." She began to blush. "...and more than that."

Harry was caught up in her smile, her vulnerable eyes, her stunning contours, and he could only nod.

A moment later, he drew a full breath, exhaled slowly, and spoke.

"Luna, I want you. I want you all the time. I want you even now, after..."

She had lit up again, was captured by his gaze, preened in the wake of his attention.

"I want you, too, Harry. Always."

She shifted her weight off of his lap, tucked herself neatly under his right arm. "Harry, we were told that this... gravity, this building magnetism... that it would only get stronger with every touch, every word."

He shook his head. "And it's taken every ounce of self-control to keep myself from... pursuing you. In, you know, every sense."

She pressed fuller into his side, ran her fingers along his arm, which was laid gently upon her thigh. "I know, Harry. I'm so grateful that you've cared. That you've fought because you care about me, about my safety. I'm just afraid you'll soon have to face a dramatically more... complex situation."

He looked to her, eyes furrowed, and studied her expression. "Complex?"

"You wage war against your own desire. Can you wage war against mine?"

"Ah."

She hesitated. "I don't know what to do, Harry."

He didn't hesitate. "Marry me."

She was overcome, joy transforming into happy fits of giggles. A moment later, she spoke. "Oh, Harry, I love you more than you know. But we can't get married. You're only sixteen. Of course I'll be of age in September, but we'll-"

"Hang on." Harry's expression was overcome with confusion. "Hang on. What do you mean, of age?."

She laughed. "Of age, Harry Potter. Past the boundary of magical consent." She smirked playfully. "I mean seventeen, silly boy."

He seemed overcome by this revelation, and altogether lost.

"Don't you remember? The Lovegoods have always maintained a strict primary education, from age four to age 12, pivoting directly into Hogwarts."

He was starting to follow, in the vaguest shape of comprehension.

"When my mother died, Harry, I took a year away from that curriculum. I returned to it the following year. Of course I received my invitation to Hogwarts at twelve, when everyone else does, but we delayed by enrollment a year to finish the preparatory work standard for heirs of the Lovegood line."

He leaned away from her, caught her gaze and held it, and stumbled through the realization. "So you're, er, older than me?"

She nodded, laughing playfully. "By nearly ten months."

He drew in a long breath. "Okay. Well, I suppose that doesn't change anything. But I just sort of thought..."

She cocked her right brow. "That I was younger? Perhaps more... impressionable?"

He stuttered, shaking his head violently. "Nothing like that! It's just, part of the reason I was being so careful not to, you know, press the boundaries, was because you were, you know, younger."

She laughed. "That I understand. What I was planning for tonight, for instance, may not have felt as perfect if you were, you know, fifteen."

Now he was laughing. "Oh, I see. So yesterday I wasn't ready for..." He gestured toward her chest, still nearly topless. "...this spectacular display and the… associated pleasures?"

She was giggling now. "At least on paper. You must admit, I've robbed the cradle with young Harry Potter."

At this he dove into her, tickling her sides until she shrieked with laughter.

My sweet, perfect, stunning Luna Lovegood.

Tonight. Tonight was absolutely perfect. And you are absolutely perfect. I'm not kidding, I called for Dobby as soon as you left and asked him to retrieve the Potter family pensieve and all associated equipment. I've captured the memory you've given me, and I've explored it three times now. Wonderful. And yet, I need you to help me. I can't capture thoughts like you can, and I'd sincerely love to wrap your memories into mine.

I've just remembered our promise to begin sharing our memories with one another. So I've stepped away, and now I have one I'd like to show you. It's in a vial here in my hand, and I'm sending it with Hedwig now. She misses you, and she's thrilled to be out. I even think she's beginning to take to Asher.

This brilliant envelope system doesn't afford opportunities to send things like memories. It's the only drawback I can think of. Is there a way to send gifts to one another in the evenings? I'll ask the twins. I have a map of all the secret passages at Hogwarts, and I can't find a clear path from the Gryffindor Common Room to the Ravenclaw Common Room; but if anyone knows a way, it's them.

Perhaps, though, I shouldn't look for such a path. I don't know what I would do with ready access to your common room, to your living quarters, to your bed. Or rather, I know what I would do. Upon further reflection, perhaps this forced distance is a blessing in disguise.

Because I want you, Luna. All the time. I dwell on your whispers, your smile, your brilliance, nearly every moment you're away. I reflect on your shape, the gentle contours of your shoulders, the swell of your chest. Your chest. Luna. Oh, how I want more of you. The glimpse - God, I can hardly scratch these words on this parchment without being captivated altogether by the memory of that glimpse - overtakes me and wraps me up and I am yours, forever and ever. You are stunning, in all your shades and textures. And I want you.

Because you are beautiful.

Yours,
Harry P.

PS - Must you leave my home every evening?