The matchmaker by ardelis_fari

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Ron & Luna
Book: Ron & Luna, Books 1 - 5
Published: 27/05/2005
Last Updated: 27/05/2005
Status: Completed

Ever wondered what happens when a well-meaning friend tries to set you up on a blind date? Ron
did find out and got a little bit more than he bargained for (set after Hogwarts).




1. the matchmaker
-----------------

**Disclaimer**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended.

**Classification**: Romance / Humour

**Pairing**: R/L (but also H/Hr)

**Rating**: R

**Author’s notes**: YAY! I’ve just been accepted at Portkey!!! I’m so happy, I can’t even
type! So here’s my first fanfic on portkey.org. Enjoy and don’t forget to review. (This is my first
R/L fanfic, so be kind!)

**Summary**: Ever wondered what happens when a well-meaning friend tries to set you up on a
blind date? Ron did find out and got a little bit more than he bargained for (set after Hogwarts).
A one-shot.

“THAT BLASTED CAT!!!”

“Oi, don’t you *dare* touch Crookshanks!”

Harry smiled and turned around in bed, still sleepy. It was a day like any other – Hermione was
berating Ron for abusing her beloved cat and Ron was retaliating with a torrent of curses directed
against the said cat, which ruined his favourite robes by chewing on them. Who said that sharing a
flat with your two best friends wasn’t fun?

They had been flatmates ever since they graduated from Hogwarts four years ago. All three of
them were working for the Ministry – Hermione was working at the International Magical Office of
Law in the Department of International Magical Co-operation, and the boys were Aurors at the
Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They got used to living together for the past seven years of
Hogwarts, so living separately was out of the question. Of course, there were times when their flat
reminded Harry of a battlefield, with Hermione and Ron bickering all the time, but he sort of got
used to it by now. At least they didn’t use their wands against each other.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Hermione’s voice brought him back from the reverie as she walked in their
bedroom.

She approached the bed and he quickly pulled her towards him. She squealed, but he ignored it as
he wrapped his arms around her waist and covered her mouth with a greedy kiss.

“Hmm, Harry…breakfast is waiting,” she tried to reason him. “You must be hungry.”

“You bet I am.” He muffled her feeble arguments by gently biting on her bottom lip.

“No, Harry…I meant food,” she protested as he remained to kiss her.

She finally wriggled out of his arms and stood up, smoothing her rustled hair.

“Come on, get up!” she urged. “Ron is making some eggs and bacon.”

“You mean, he’s still alive and you are not going to be locked up in Azkaban for homicide?”
Harry asked with mock incredulity.

Hermione just rolled her eyes.

“We can’t get rid of him now, he’s paying one third of the rent.”

“Hey, I heard that!” their flatmate yelled.

Ron’s fiery ginger head appeared from behind the corner. In his hands he was holding a bowl of
raw eggs.

“Hey, you’re still in bed?!” he exclaimed.

“It’s Sunday,” Harry retorted, looking imperturbable.

“Which means we can go play Quidditch!” Ron said, excited.

Harry’s green eyes twinkled with joy and Hermione just groaned at the mention of Quidditch and
left the room.

They were enjoying a delicious breakfast of sizzling bacon, eggs and pumpkin juice. Ron and
Harry were chatting animatedly about Quidditch and Hermione was reading the Sunday Prophet,
occasionally snorting disbelievingly at bits of gossip.

“Yeah, I hear they have a new coach,” Ron said as they were still discussing Quidditch.

“Did you know that Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley are getting married?” Hermione cut
in.

Ron stared at her, unable to grasp the connection between the upcoming Quidditch match between
Peru and Czech Republic and the couple’s wedding.

“Are they getting married in Peru?” he asked, confused.

“No, Ron!” Hermione sighed exasperatedly. “They are getting married in London. But it’s still
awfully romantic, isn’t it?”

Ron stared at her as if she had grown a second head. Unperturbed, Hermione stared back.

“As I was saying,” Ron continued (completely ignoring Hermione’s ranting about shades of wedding
dresses), “they have a new coach now, so Czech Republic doesn’t stand a chance. I bet 10 galleons
that Peru wins this time!”

After the breakfast, when Harry left for an unplanned meeting at the Ministry, Hermione
stealthily observed her friend as he was dumping dirty dishes in the sink and then putting a charm
on them, so that they would get washed of their own accord. She couldn’t help noticing that Ron was
becoming very handsome and manly, far from the gangling boy he had once been. He was now quite
popular with the girls, but he was still single. He would bring occasional girlfriends for a night,
of course, but that was all there was to it. And it really bothered Hermione. She thought that it
was rather unfair that Harry and she were so happy together and Ron was still alone. Ginny kept
saying that her brother was just not ready to commit. Hermione thought that he just needed some
help. And who else would help him, if not his best friend.

“Ron,” she started resolutely, discarding all her doubts, “you know, I was talking to Daphne the
other day and she has this friend who’s single too. I was just thinking, maybe you two should
meet.”

“You are trying to set me up on a blind date?” Ron asked, flabbergasted. Surely Hermione wasn’t
the kind of person who would beat around the bush, but this proposition was rather straightforward
even for her.

“Yes,” she confirmed, looking at him unabashed.

“I don’t need a steady relationship. I’m quite happy the way I am,” Ron tried to argue.

“No, you’re not!” She retorted. “I can see how unhappy you are. You need a woman in your
life.”

He was about to say that she was quite wrong, that he didn’t mind one-night stands, but decided
against it. Arguing with Hermione was more difficult than getting into professional Quidditch team;
and that is saying something.

“Okay, I suppose one date couldn’t hurt,” he complied.

“Oh Ron!” she shrieked, throwing her arms around his neck. “You’ll see it’s a wonderful idea!
I’m sure you’ll have great time and maybe you’ll find your significant one,” she winked at him
conspiratorially. “Who knows?”

“Yes, I might,” he responded sarcastically when she finally freed him from a friendly hug.
“What’s this girl’s name anyway?” he asked, feigning interest.

“Her name? Oh, I don’t know. Daphne didn’t tell me. But she said, she’s around your age and
she’s *very* good-looking,” she smiled at him knowingly and Ron didn’t like that look on her
face.

“Is she? Okay, how about I meet her tonight?” he asked. He wanted to get this done and over with
as soon as possible. “Tell this Daphne that I’ll be at *Merlin’s Staff* at seven o’clock. If
the girl doesn’t show up, I’m gone.”

“She will,” her lips curled into a contended smile.

She beamed at him and left the kitchen, most probably off to tell her friend that poor Ron was
available tonight. He shook his head, bewildered, still unable to believe that he allowed himself
to be talked into this whole dating thing.

He was still in the kitchen when Harry apparated back home. He must have learned of his
misfortune by now, Ron thought gloomily.

“Hey mate, I hear you have a date with some gorgeous girl tonight,” he asked, his mouth twisting
into a grin.

Ron heaved a sigh.

“You know how Hermione is. She won’t leave me alone until I’m married and have at least half a
dozen children!”

Harry chuckled and patted him comfortingly on the back.

“You could have stood up for me!” Ron threw him a piercing glare.

“No,” Harry shook his head, “she would get angry with me and make me sleep on the couch.”

“Traitor!” Ron grumbled, but Harry merely shrugged, still smirking.

* * *

Ron was already in Diagon Alley, on his way to the restaurant, when he started having second
thoughts. Now he somewhat doubted that this blind date was such a good idea. But it was too late
now – the mysterious girl was waiting for him and Hermione wouldn’t get off his back, until she was
satisfied. Well, let’s just hope that this girl isn’t Pansy Parkinson, he silently mused as he
entered the small restaurant at the very end of Diagon Alley.

He quite liked this place. Its atmosphere was reminiscent of old wizarding times. The walls of
panelled oak were decorated with magical artifacts and pictures of celebrities, like Weird
Sisters.

If this date doesn’t work out, he said to himself, he’ll have a good time here anyway. He looked
around to see a few dining couples, but no one who distantly looked like his date. She didn’t show
up after all, he thought, relieved. He was about to leave when the waiter appeared before him.

“Can I help you, sir?” he inquired politely.

“Erm, hello, I’m having a dinner here with someone,” he started explaining.

“Ah, yes. The young lady is already here. Follow me, please.”

He led him to another dining hall round the corner, where a few tables were set in separate
niches.

“Your table is at the end of the hall,” pointed the waiter and left.

“Thank you,” Ron mumbled to his retreating form.

As he walked towards his table he tried to have a good look at the girl. She was sitting with
her back to him, so he couldn’t see her face. She looked quite nice, though. Her honey-blond hair
was reaching down her back in soft curls and as far as he could see she was pretty tall and lean.
So far he liked what he saw.

“Hi,” he said as he approached the table.

The girl turned around and her dreamy blue eyes met with his.

“Luna???” He couldn’t suppress the confusion on his voice.

“Ronald?” she asked, looking rather confounded. But then again, it might have been one of her
usual facial expressions.

They haven’t seen each other in four years. He thought about her occasionally when he recalled
his adventures back at Hogwarts, but he never actually expected to see her again.

She had dyed her hair a livelier shade of blond and it really brought out her light-blue eyes.
Though, he’d rather bite his tongue off, than admit it to her, so he quickly dismissed that
inappropriate thought.

“So, it’s you,” he finally managed to say, sinking into the plushy seat opposite her.

“I didn’t expect to see you either,” she uttered absentmindedly.

He just nodded, unable to come up with a decent response. He was astonished, to say the least.
Did Hermione know who Daphne’s friend was? If she did, she sure would tell him, wouldn’t she? He
wasn’t so sure anymore. He just mentally noted to strangle her cat, if she set him up on a date
with Luna Lovegood on purpose.

“You haven’t changed much since school,” he said when the silence was becoming more awkward.
“Except your hair. It’s different.”

“Yeah, I thought I should dye it. Do you like it?” she asked.

She wasn’t psychic, was she?

“Humph, yes, it’s very nice,” he mumbled.

They relapsed into silence again. Now they would talk about weather and then they would run out
of subjects for discussion. It could be worse, he told himself. It could be a complete stranger
whom he didn’t like at all and the evening would be ruined. Still, this awkwardness was killing
him. Then the deities up in heaven must have taken pity on him and sent a waitress. She took their
order and retreated hastily, flashing Ron a smile.

“So, what have you been doing all these years?” he asked again.

“Oh, I’ve been doing research on all sorts of magical animals,” she said.

“For the *Quibbler*?” Ron asked, trying very hard not to snicker.

“That too,” she nodded, oblivious to his reaction, “but I publish my articles in other magazines
too. Just last week I completed a report on the mating habits of Swedish Crumple-Horned
Snorcacks.”

“I see,” he replied, not knowing what else to say.

The waitress reappeared quickly with their food, saving them for the second time this evening.
The smell coming from the dishes was very appetizing and Ron realized that he was really
hungry.

“What about you? Have you become an Auror like you wanted?” she asked, gazing at him.

“Yes. Last year Harry and I completed our Auror training and now we’re working at the Auror
Headquarters for the Ministry,” he informed her proudly.

Gradually the awkwardness disappeared and they were chatting like old friends. He realized with
a start that he didn’t find her loony or weird anymore. Sure she said odd things sometimes, but he
thought it was rather cute. They reminisced their days at Hogwarts, laughing at some ridiculous
accidents at the Potions class or on the Quidditch pitch. Ron found out to his surprise that Ginny
and Luna were really good friends. His sister worked for the Department for the Regulation and
Control of Magical Creatures and Luna was studying magical animals too, albeit non-existent
ones.

“So, how often do you go on blind dates?” she asked, watching him over the rim of her
wineglass.

“This is the first time,” Ron laughed. He almost forgot that this was a blind date. It just felt
so natural. “Hermione made me come here. She said that her friend’s friend was single *and*
attractive. I just couldn’t miss an opportunity like that.”

She laughed at this obvious flattery, her pale eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Do *you* often go on a blind date?” he asked her in return.

“No,” she shook her head, which made her earrings clank, “this is my first time too.”

A long silence came in which Ron realized that he was really having fun. Luna was smart and
funny and her witty comments made him laugh. And he didn’t even mind learning about heliopaths and
nargles. Actually, he started to find them interesting.

Around midnight they finally left the restaurant and he felt a twinge of regret. He wanted to
prolong this evening or maybe meet her again soon, but couldn’t come up with a decent excuse to see
her again. He wasn’t sure how she would take it, if he asked her out on a *real* date this
time.

“Are you going to apparate home?” he asked when they stopped in the dimly lit street.

“No, I’m going to walk and have some fresh air. I live nearby.”

“Can I walk you home?” he asked and then quickly added, “It doesn’t look too safe here.”

“Sure,” she agreed and Ron almost leapt up with joy.

She took his hand in hers and he felt a million tingles shoot through him. They were walking for
some time in silence, enjoying the quiet beautiful night. The sky was covered with tiny bright
stars that twinkled like diamonds on a black velvet canvas. The breeze of cool air ruffled their
hair. Ron couldn’t contain a small smile as they were walking down the street, hand in hand. She
showed him the stars and constellations she could identify and they argued for a while about the
positions of the Great and the Little Bear. She, being a Ravenclaw, knew more about it, and
besides, Ron never paid much attention during his Astronomy lessons, so he had to trust her
judgments. Soon (too soon for Ron’s liking) they stopped at the tall modern building in the middle
of Muggle London where Luna rented a small flat.

“Here we are,” she said turning to him.

“That’s where you live,” he said thoughtfully, looking up.

“Thanks for walking me home and thanks for the dinner, I had a wonderful time,” she smiled.

“Me too,” he said, realizing that they were still holding hands.

He really enjoyed the evening and he didn’t want it to end so soon. He leaned in and when she
didn’t back away, he pressed his lips against hers. Her lips were so soft and he could taste
vanilla from that ice-cream she had for dessert. He felt her arms wrap around his neck and he
deepened the kiss. When he felt so light-headed, that he thought he would fall, she pulled
away.

“Ronald,” she asked, her eyes boring into his, “would you like to come up for a drink?”

But her beautiful blue eyes promised something more than just a cup of coffee and he found
himself grinning.

“I’d love to.”



