Luna stared at the shining copper head of the second youngest Weasley from across the Three Broomsticks. Her gaze never left him, even when he glanced at her occasionally with eyebrows raised in question. She finally looked away when he leaned over to whisper something to Hermione who looked over at Luna and scowled in a very Hermione-ish manner.
Luna sighed, feeling desperately lonely but knowing that if she were to mingle amongst the students it would be accompanied by disapproving looks, obvious whispers and an insult or two. Normally she didn't mind it so much, but she had been feeling strangely lately. Especially when Ronald was about.
The Three Broomsticks was crowded and stifling, so much so that even she felt uncomfortable. Luna felt a sudden need for fresh air and fought her way through the crowd of Hogwarts students, some of whom sneered at her passing, toward the exit.
The fresh air filled her lungs not a moment too soon. She felt more herself after only a moment and looked about dreamily.
Citizens and Hogwarts visitors alike milled about the streets of Hogsmeade. Luna accidentally caught the eye of a pair of Slytherin seventh years. They started toward her, elbowing each other and laughing without taking their eyes off her. Luna looked around for some type of escape but they were on her in no time.
"Who are you waiting for out here, Looney? Is someone from St. Mungo's coming to take you back home?" one of them taunted. The other laughed and knocked her large purse out of her hand. It fell to the dirty ground with a thump and a few things spilled out of it. Before she could move a muscle one of them snatched something off the ground. It gleamed in the bright afternoon sun.
"Who's this, Looney? She looks as crazy as you do!" one of them said. He held in his hand one of the few portraits of her mother, which she had framed at her own expense and kept in her purse. It was a very small portrait but Luna treasured it. It had been taken when Luna was two years old. In it, her mother was kneeling down on Luna's level and they blew soap bubbles into the air together. The bubbles floated and popped within the movement of the picture. It was a memory from her childhood that she did not recall but kept the picture regardless. She sometimes brought it out and wondered if her mum had ever blown soap bubbles with Luna's father.
Any other possession and Luna would have simply given it up as gone for good and walked away with the remnants of her purse. But this was different. Luna reached for it but the boy levitated it high above her head. When she stood on her tiptoes to reach it the other boy tripped her. Before she could even think to hold her arms out to prevent her face from hitting the cobblestone she wasn't falling anymore. She found herself being held up by a pair of very strong and very male arms. She was quickly brought back to her feet. Feeling more than a little dizzy, Luna nearly fell again.
"Give me that portrait," Ron demanded. Standing nearly two inches above the taller boy, he made a formidable opponent. However the Slytherins weren't about to lose face to not only a Gryffindor, but a Weasley to boot.
"What are you going to do about it?" one of the boys said with a sneer. The other snorted with laughter.
"Two against one, is it? Don't you think we should even this out?" said Harry, as he stepped up behind Ron with his wand held firmly at his side. Luna moved her head between the two pairs as if she were watching a muggle tennis match.
Harry's reputation preceded him and the Slytherins seemed a bit nervous at this. They knew of the tangles that Harry and Ron had gotten themselves into with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Their self preservation took priority against proving themselves. The one holding Luna's portrait threw it down onto the cold ground and they both walked briskly away from the scene.
Luna kneeled down to pick up the shattered remnants of the picture frame her portrait had been held in. The portrait now safely tucked away in her pocket Luna felt once again at peace. She looked up to thank Ron for saving her from what could have been a rather painful fall but saw only Harry looking down at her.
"Do you need help, Luna?" he asked with a slight smile on his lips. He obviously had not forgotten their encounter at the very end of fifth year.
"No, I've got it from here. Thank you, Harry," she assured him; trying to mask her disappointment that Ron had already left. She swept the rest of her possessions (a pair of muggle tweezers, a small plastic container holding sugar and a pair of very large bifocals missing their right lens) into her purse and straightened up. Harry had already run to catch up with Ron's retreating form.
"Does that happen a lot, Luna?" a female voice said behind her. Luna turned to find Hermione in the doorway of the Three Broomsticks, staring into Luna's wide eyes. Luna only smiled slightly and started humming "Weasely is Our King" as she walked slowly away. Hermione stared after her, shaking her head.
~ ~ ~ ~
"For Merlin's sake, is she staring at me again?" Ron asked Hermione, exasperation heavy in his voice. Hermione couldn't help the wide grin that split her face, for indeed Luna had been staring at the back of Ron's head for the fifth time that day.
They sat in the dining hall, eating their evening meal. As Ron stuffed roasted turkey into his mouth with no lack of enthusiasm he had become aware of that funny feeling of being watched. It had become an all too familiar sensation that day, for he had caught Luna staring at him unabashedly several times. Her wide eyes nearly bore holes into the back of his head. Even when he had turned round to give her a dirty look she still had not looked away.
"Do you think she's really nutters? D'you think she'll do something weird to me?" Ron asked, setting his fork down and looking very harassed.
"She's eccentric, but certainly not insane. What are you so worried for?" Harry asked, digging into his potatoes. Ron mumbled something, trying to hunch over as low as he could so as not to attract her attention.
"It's not working," Hermione said in an insanely annoying sing-song voice.
"That's the last time I help a girl with anything," Ron groaned, deeply regretting ever getting between Luna and the two Slytherin boys. Especially since the two had taken to harassing him in the hallways of Hogwarts. He did well enough when it came to taking care of himself and had felt a little put out by the fact that Harry had stepped in the day before. He was positive he could have handled the situation perfectly.
After they had finished their meal, the Trio made their way back to the common room with the other Gryffindors. Ron was relieved to see Luna headed toward the Ravenclaw dormitories. He decided to give her a taste of her own medicine and stared at the back of her head. She did not seem to notice however as she pushed past a gaggle of giggling Ravenclaw third years. The girls exchanged a comment or two about the bright blonde then went back to their commentary on the "cutest Quidditch player in third year".
Ron felt a sharp jab to his ribs and had to stifle his surprised yip.
"You two seem to enjoy staring at one another. Why don't you ask her out and get it over with?" Hermione said, clearly enjoying every minute of this. Harry, who had been silent the whole time couldn't hide his smile in time. Ron caught it and scowled.
"I am not interested in Luna Lovegood in the least. She's completely nutters!" Ron said in his defense. He and Hermione were both surprised when Harry finally spoke up.
"She's not crazy at all. You don't even know her," he said quietly. At that moment they had approached the portrait of The Fat Lady. Harry called out the password and stepped through, Ron and Hermione following closely behind. Still sulking, Ron went straight to bed.
He laid in silence on his Gryffindor bed sheets, replaying the scene from the day before in his mind. Stepping out of the Three Broomsticks in time to see Luna Lovegood reaching for a shiny object held above her head by a Slytherin boy, watching her feet as they were swept out from under her and finally the fall that seemed to last an eternity.
He didn't know why he caught her or where exactly those amazingly fast reflexes had come from.
All he knew was that incredibly thick-skulled girl wouldn't stop looking at him!
The sway of her hips is wildly seductive and he imagines what it would be like to hold them firmly above his own. Would they be firm and muscled or soft and yielding? Her small gentle smile no longer seems vacant but is unmistakably intelligent. He knows she can hold her own and is turned on like he never has been before.
He watches her on the arm of another boy, the fluttering in his stomach an insane jealously. It tickles his throat and makes him want to scream. He imagines the boy running his fingers through her long golden hair. He imagines him stroking her skin. Hair, skin, teeth and nails that he thinks belong to him rightfully. He wants to hurt him and wipe the smile off his face. He wants her to look at him like she used to.
Everything changes and she is under him, asleep. He doesn't put his weight on her because he's afraid she'll wake up. He doesn't want to disturb her after the day she's had. She had fallen asleep with wet tears still on her cheeks and they have still not dried completely. Her father has just died and her grief suffuses his insides so he feels as if his own father has died too. It is a strange feeling, because he has only met her father once or twice.
Next they are blowing bubbles together in a large field. She exclaims over their beauty as they pop and she catches them softly in the palm of her hand and keeps them intact for a few seconds. He is not looking at the bubbles. He is looking at her and imagining what their child will look like if they ever have one. She notices him looking at her and not the bubbles. She is waiting for him to say something, but he has never been able to form pretty words for her. So he smiles instead and hopes she understands.
When she looks away he knows that she does.
Ron awakened to the sight of Harry's face right above him. It certainly wasn't what he had been expecting. He had been thoroughly convinced that a face framed by long blonde hair would greet him, but instead he found himself uncomfortably close to his best friend.
"Gah! What are you doing, you stupid git?" Ron said, sitting up in bed and throwing off his covers. Harry looked embarrassed and backed away.
"You wouldn't wake up so I was going to shake you. We're going to be late," Harry said. Ron pulled on his school clothes and robes in a flash and was running out of the abandoned dormitory with Harry in a matter of five minutes. They were accustomed to this by now, as Ron was particularly fond of sleeping in.
"What kind of dream were you having, Ron? It must have been a good one," Harry said as they made their way to Divinations. Ron turned an unnatural shade of red and Harry took this as answer enough.
"Who was in it, then? Lavender Brown? Parvati Patil?"
"Can't I even keep my dreams to myself?" Ron asked gruffly. Harry was not fooled and laughed at his friend's embarrassed coloring.
As red as his face was, it wasn't nearly as red as it would be later when he spotted the object of his dream in the dining hall. The dream had left him with questions upon questions. He found that he could not look at her wide eyes without imagining them glazed over with pleasure or half-closed in the midst of an orgasm. This served to not only give him a humiliating tightening in his trousers but to also make him more angry than he'd been in a long time.
That damned minx has cursed me. I suddenly go from not noticing her a bit to having her in my fecking dreams!
He turned round to give her a glare and show her that he was on to her dirty tricks, but found that she was nowhere to be seen. This infuriated Ron to no end. When he got up from the table he ignored both Hermione and Harry with their questioning looks.
He just hoped he would be able to catch her while he was still angry. He had a hell of a lot to say and if he was allowed to calm down at all he'd never get a chance to say it.
He was fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to catch her in the hall leading to Ravenclaw Tower. Luna did not seem to notice his rapidly approaching footsteps as she made her way calmly to the stairwell. He had to grab her upper arm to turn her around. When they were face to face, he found that the words he had been repeating over and over in his head would not do him any good. She had an oblivious grin on her face.
"Hello, Ronald. I'm happy to see you, too," she said, taking his grabbing her as an enthusiastic greeting.
"Don't call me Ronald!" was all he could muster, even though he had a lot of other things to be angrier about.
"That's your name, isn't it? My father used to have a man working for his newspaper who was named Ronald. He didn't have red hair, though. It was brown. Do you have trouble finding clothes that coordinate with your hair?" she went on, not the least bit as frazzled as Ron was.
"What have you done to me?" Ron asked, pointing his finger in her face.
"Done?" Luna asked, her smile still plastered to her face but a confused gleam in her blue eyes.
"You've cursed me! You'd better tell me what you used on me and lift it. Do you think it's funny that I have to think about you all the time? It's very selfish of you," he said through his clenched jaw. That seemed to wipe the smile right off her face.
"Cursed you? Cursed you? And they call me Looney? Ha!" She said. With that she turned around, whipping her hair behind her shoulder hard enough to hit Ron with the ends and walked away.
Ron was left behind, gaping at her.