Chapter One
Love Let Linger
Ron smiled and whistled as he watched Harry's lips meet Hermione's in their first kiss as husband and wife. Sparks of every color imaginable flew from every wand in the clearing packed with wedding guests. When the couple broke apart, they were both covered in tears and smiles. Hand in hand, they turned and began to walk down the aisle. Harry looked over his shoulder and caught Ron's eye before it was too late. Ron could remember a time when Harry had been happy like that, but it hadn't been for many years. This wedding was just what the Few and the people they protected had needed. Proof that there were still things to live for in the world, hope that they would survive to see the end of the war and take up their own lives again. Harry, as the leader of the Few, had known he had needed some way to give his people faith again, and had picked the perfect way to do it. Old teachers and friends were crying and cheering. The whole feeling was enough to make even the coldest person smile. But even through such euphoria, Ron still had that same old feeling inside him.
With all of the attention focused on the new bride and groom, Ron slipped away from the clearing and made his ways through the trees, back to the castle. Hogwarts was much larger than it had been back when it was a school. Now, it served as a base for the ARMED, which stood for Allegiance Resisting Magical Eternal Dominance. Those who served ARMED were collectively called the "Few," and they consisted of old Order of the Phoenix members as well as the newer generation of witches and wizards. Harry Potter was their Commander in Chief, and Ron was his right-hand man, his comrade, his most trusted member, his best friend. His sidekick. In the end, Ron knew that's what it boiled down to. The sidekick. Nothing had changed since school, but Ron had learned to live with it, to accept it. He was respected just as much as Harry was, he was looked up to in the same way. The only difference between them was their destinies. Harry was the one chosen to defeat Voldemort. Ron was there to aid Harry, and it was a job he perfected and excelled at.
No, the role of sidekick wasn't what was bothering Ron. His hands in his pockets, he made his way up the staircases and out to the North Tower. He climbed through the trap door that lead to the exposed top of the tower and settled himself against the stone parapet. He supported himself on his elbows and gazed up at the sky and blinked back at the endless array of stars. He was respected. He was followed. He was admired. He was a strong, smart, able-bodied wizard who had defeated many Death Eaters in the war. He had dealt with tragedies that had only strengthened him, not weakened him. He had made life-altering decisions and had come out on top. He was up there with the best of the best, he had everyone's trust and esteem. But... He watched as his memories rewound and then played out in front of him. All those years when he had sat back and watched Harry and Hermione unknowingly fall in love with each other, how they had been when they had admitted it, and every little event that had lead up to today, the day they had pledged their hearts to each other....
He remembered the day Ginny had collapsed in his arms, how she had dissolved into uncontrolled tears, and poured her heart out to him about Draco. He remembered the day he passed Draco in the halls, and the two men had just stopped and stared at each other for a moment, not knowing what to say. He remembered the day he had seen Draco with his sister under the oak tree, and how he had surpressed his rage and had made himself wait to see what would happen, and then the way his heart went out to them when they had embraced for what could've been the last time. He remembered the day Draco returned to ARMED with the knowledge they had sent him for, the day the Few had accepted him, the day he had proved his sincerity about being part of their force, and how Ginny had ran into his trembling arms....
He recalled the day Albus Dumbledor had passed away, and how Professor McGonagall had knelt by his bed for a whole twenty-four hours, holding his cold hand and speaking soft words to the body who had once been the holding cell for a wonderful man she would've followed until the end of time, even died for, and the way she had cried for what Ron suspected was the first time ever....
What Ron didn't have was love. Sure, he had the love and support of his friends and family, and he had the awe and admiration from those who were not part of the Few, those he was fighting every day to protect. But he didn't have love. He had no one to hold close to him, no one to keep warm and happy. He never had. He didn't need it, that's what he told himself. He was a one-man show, that was for sure. It was better to be single, anyway. No one to worry about when he was off risking his life. No one to worry about him not coming back. But still, the look Harry had in his eyes every time he looked at Hermione seemed like it's sole purpose was to haunt Ron.
He heard galloping coming towards the castle. Suddenly suspicious, he peered into the night to locate the approaching rider. They had no spies due back at the moment. Whoever was coming was someone they didn't know. After a moment, his trained eyes picked out the traveller. It looked like a person -- woman, probably, since he knew no man with hair that long-- and she was riding her horse hard towards the castle doors. If he ran fast enough, they would both reach the doors at the same time. Ron bolted for the entrance.
~*~*~*~*~
As he had predicted, Ron reached the huge castle doors in time to meet the rider. He stood with his arms crossed in the middle of the hall as they slowly swung open and an attractive young woman poked her head inside. Ron doubted she could see him. Only a few of the torches along the wall were lit, and he was suspended in shadow. Sure enough, she stepped through the doorway and closed the door as silently as she could. Ron got a good look at her before he interrogated her. She must've been no more than a year his junior, maybe younger. She looked to be about medium height, equipped with a slender, willowy frame that she carried gracefully, even when her body was rigid with tension. She had straight, dirty blond hair that reached her lower back. Her mouth was open so she could breathe silently, and her wide blue eyes glanced nervously around as she padded closer to Ron. He felt as though he recognized her from somewhere, but he couldn't allow that premonition to let his guard down. If he couldn't immediatly identify her, she was a stranger, and strangers were threats.
"Who're you?" He asked harshly, not moving from his hiding place. The woman jumped at the sound of his voice and looked around in surprise, trying to locate him through the darkness. Her hands moved over her robes, probably in search of her wand.
"Don't even think about it," Ron said, and she froze at the sound of his voice again. He smirked at the expression on her face, how nothing but her eyes moved. Slowly, he drew his own wand and whispered a word. All of the the flames in the torches were extinguished with an eerie hiss. Even through the pitch black, Ron could see the woman. He had been trained to see in anything. She flinched when the room went dark, but she didn't move another muscle. She probably knew that Ron could see her.
Ron walked a full, wide circle around her before he began to close in. She was scared out of her mind, he could tell by the way her shoulders were hunched. She probably wasn't a spy. More than likely, she had escaped from Hogsmede and had stumbled across the castle and was now looking to reside there. He'd have a little bit of fun first before he took her to Harry. Had to earn respect some way, didn't he?
He came up right behind her, and gently placed his hand on the back of her neck. She flinched at his touch, but did nothing else. He didn't apply pressure, just let his hand rest on her neck. She was very tense. 'Good.' Ron thought. 'She should be. You can't just walk into Hogwarts. She has every right to be afraid of me.' He leaned in close to her and whispered into her ear, making sure she could feel every breath he released.
"What's your name?" He asked quietly.
"Luna," She replied solidly, and Ron admitted to himself that he was impressed. She was terrified, but her voice didn't show any sign. And her name was Luna... hadn't he known a Luna from somewhere before?
"What're you doing here, Luna? Why are you at Hogwarts so late at night?"
"I need to see Harry Potter," She said.
"And what buisness do you have with Harry Potter?"
"That's confidential," She quipped. Ron grinned. She had spunk, this one.
"Who sent you, Luna?"
"I sent me."
Ron laughed softly at her response, and felt Luna shiver. He was right, she probably just was a villager looking for a place to stay. He had spooked her enough. He stepped away from her and spoke a word that lit up every torch in the hall. Luna blinked at the sudden appearance of light, and then turned to face him. She was beautiful, Ron had to admit. And now that he could see her properly, he was positive they had met before. She must've noticed it, too. She squinted at him for a moment, as if she was trying to picture the man before her a few years younger. Ron watched as recognition filled her eyes.
"Ronald? Ronald Weasley?"
With a jolt of memory, he knew her. One good look, and...yes, the resemblance was there. The voice was the same, too. And she had called him Ronald.
"Luna Lovegood?"