Red Moon Dreaming

disclaimer: situations and characters all belong to the lovely JKR. not me, her.

a/n: I present to you: the first R/Lu chapter story. [oohs and ahhs from audience] Let's hope it turns out well, haha. ;)

"You look like a man that could use another Ogden's," said a pretty barmaid, wiping clean a heavy goblet and peering at Ron from beneath long lashes.

Ron's shoulders sagged, it felt as though he was carrying a mountain troll on his back.

"If you wouldn't mind," he agreed, his voice thick, his vision foggy.

"Of course," said the barmaid, and she topped off his glass, "what is it that's got a star Keeper like you down?"

"Women." he said hoarsely.

She gave a lopsided grin. "What kind of women troubles, then?"

"I don't know," he said honestly, "but it's always women."

Ron woke and slowly sat up. His eyes were bleary and the tiniest slip of the dream was about to leave him. A barmaid and trouble with women? He wiped the sleep away from his eyes. Strange dream, he thought, and looked at the clock on his bedside table, which twinkled 'Dreadfully Early in the Morning'.

He flopped back on his Gryffindor pillow and went back to sleep.

"I doubt that its always women, soldier," a gruff looking wizard said, lowering magical binoculars and looking at a dusty Ron. "Sometimes its worse."

"I don't know," Ron said, in that heavy voice again, "I'm pretty sure it's a girl."

"In times like these, trouble with girls shouldn't be first on our minds," the wizard said, and brandished his wand. "Did you hear that?" He asked tensely.

"But I keep asking her if she wants to have a shag and she keeps saying maybe," Ron rattled on, as the wizard peered intently over the edge of the ditch. "She's so loony sometimes," Ron explained, "I love her, but she's crazy. So she says maybe and then I go to kiss her and she says 'maybe doesn't mean yes, Ronald' and its so confusing."

A flash of green light erupted next to him and the wizard crumpled to the dirt floor, dead.

Ron woke up sharply this time, and bright light flooded in from his window, playing across the scarlet and gold comforter. He'd forgotten to draw his bed curtains to keep the sun from piercing like that. Once again he strained to remember the dream sequence. Women trouble again, only with an important looking wizard to whine to, who later died.

Ron just never understood his dreams.

Swinging his legs over the edge of his mattress, he looked out at the Gryffindor dormitory and noted sadly that his dorm mates had already left. Harry had pinned a little note to Ron's bedpost, and he plucked it from its thumbtack and read it listlessly.

Ron -
went for breakfast with everyone else. You were sleeping awfully deep, we couldn't wake you. It's Saturday, so we won't have classes. Meet you in the Grand Hall or the common room.
- Harry

Ron got dressed quickly, and then hurried down for breakfast. His stomach rumbled loudly in anticipation.

He slid into his spot next to Harry and flashed him a grin.

"Sleep well?" Harry inquired.

"Er� pretty well, I guess," Ron said, "had some strange dreams."

Hermione, who was sitting across from Harry, gave a little frown at this. "What kind of strange?" She asked.

"Voldemort strange?" Harry further elaborated, his voice kept low.

"No," Ron said, glaring at them, "nothing like that. Just weird, okay?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows and sighed. "All right. But if you do have any like that be sure to tell -"

"You and Harry, yeah, I know," Ron said, grimacing. He was still trying to think over his dreams and the conversation with them was making it slip farther and farther out of his grasp.

"Poor ickle Ronniekins," Ginny teased from beside Hermione, "had a nightmare. Should I owl mum and have her come to tuck you in from now on?"

Harry and Hermione hid their smiles and Ron shot a fierce frown at his sister.

"Shut up, you." He retorted, and then his dream was almost completely gone�.

"Ginny, have I told you about Fire-whip Blarks?" A voice resounded, and Ron turned to see Luna Lovegood standing behind him.

"No, I don't think so," Ginny was saying, but Ron's dreams were flooding back to him in bits and pieces, clear as bell in his head.

"I keep asking her if she wants to have a shag, but she keeps saying maybe," � "She's so loony sometimes,"

Ron put his head in his hands.

"You all right?" Ginny asked, breaking away from her conversation with Luna. "Is something wrong, Ron?"

"Headache," he said weakly, peering up at Luna from out of the corner of his eye. Why did she bring his memories back?

"Oh, I know just the cure for that, you capture a baby troll and you sneeze on it three times and you won't have a headache any longer." Luna said sagely, and Ron saw Hermione roll her eyes and turn back to her breakfast. Harry grinned.

"No," he said, "you won't have a headache because the baby troll's mother will have sat on you. You'll be dead."

Ginny and Hermione laughed and Luna wrinkled up her nose.

Ron removed his hands from his face as the wave of dream sequences ended and reached for some toast.

Luna squeezed into the small space between he and Seamus and started on a new story for Ginny about how trout are related to the extremely rare Piabble fish and that if they could just ask the trout where their cousins were�.

"Don't be silly," Hermione said after a moment, "the Piabble fish doesn't exist, it's a purely mythical creature."

Luna looked up at her with wide, silvery eyes. "I don't think so," she said plainly, "I think its real."

Hermione did not respond and merely went back to cutting up her eggs.

"Anyway, Ginny, if you eat the Piabble fish, they give you visions of your future. Mixed up ones, or so they say. Like, pieces of correct information, but in false circumstances."

"I think I should like that," Ginny said, "it would be nice to know a bit about my future."

"Well everybody thought so," Luna rattled on, "and that's why they've become so rare. And Muggles would eat them, thinking them to be regular trout, and when bits of their dreams came true called it coincidence or d�j� vu."

"Really? Wow. That would make sense, wouldn't it, Hermione?" Ginny asked, her eyes laughing.

Hermione just gave a little sniff.

Harry gave her a little smile and Ron tried to pretend he didn't notice when Hermione smiled back warmly.

"Hermione," Ron said unsteadily, "if I asked if you would shag me-"

"What?!" She shrieked.

He glared at her and waved his hands at her to settled down. "Let me finish! If I did - which I'm not - what would you say?"

"No, a thousand times no!" She said, indignantly, her brown eyes blazing into a golden amber. "Where on earth did you get the idea to -"

"Never mind how I came up with it," Ron said impatiently, "your final answer is no, then? Not maybe?"

"It is no." She said firmly, still slightly ruffled by the sudden inquiry.

"Right then," he said, logging the answer in his mind. Though there was slight disappointment ebbing into his system, he was bewildered as to why he took it so well. Of course Hermione wouldn't want to shag you, a little voice said, but a bigger, more obvious voice bullied it out of the way. Maybe not now, but one day she will. Because you love her, it said smugly.

Ron grimaced. Even in the wizarding world, hearing voices wasn't a good sign.

His mission was, of course, to figure out who it was that his dream self had women trouble with. Who was it that when asked to shag said maybe?

"Ron!" Harry said loudly, waving his hand in front of his friend's face.

"What's up?" He asked, when Ron had turned to him. "What are you thinking about? And that� question?"

Ron shook his head. "It's nothing, just� just wondering about something."

Harry gave a slight frown. "If you say so," he said, "but Hermione's left a bit peeved."

Ron looked across the table at the empty spot and realized with a slight sinking feeling that he did not miss her presence at all. But he had a crush on her, didn't he? Yeah. A huge one.

"Harry." Ron said gravely, "I like Hermione, don't I?"

Luna and Ginny fell silent, looking at them in interest. Luna watched with her large, pale eyes even wider than usual.

Harry looked at Ron strangely. "Well, ye-I thought so. Why, don't you anymore?"

Ron looked at his plate and was silent for a moment, trying not to look into Luna's curious gaze.

"It� it has to do with that weird dream of mine. That question I asked Hermione, I mean. See, she was supposed to say something else -"

"Potty, Weasel." Draco Malfoy greeted them from where he had suddenly appeared behind Ginny. "It's gotten all over school that you asked the Mudblood to do the nasty and she rejected you, Weasley."

Ron looked at his plate as his ears slowly turned pink.

"How's it feel to be turned down by a filthy little-"

There was a loud crack as Ginny stood up and delivered a stinging slap to his cheek.

"Don't talk about Hermione like that!" She hissed.

Malfoy looked down at the younger girl in disgust. "What are you going to do about it, Weaselette?"

They held a steady glare between them, and if someone were to step between them they would surely be electrocuted by the pure tension their stares held.

"I'm going to fuck your brains out," she whispered, and jumped into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist.

"You can try," Draco said snarkily, "but you'll just end up begging for more."

He threw her onto the nearby Hufflepuff table and started making love to Ron's little sister�

Ron woke up screaming, his head popping up from where it had fallen into the cross of his arms.

Harry, Luna, Ginny and Malfoy all turned abruptly to look at him strangely.

"You dozed off and had another strange dream?" Harry guessed, and Ron nodded, glaring at Malfoy.

"You," he growled, pointing a finger at the tall, handsome boy, "will never lay a hand on my sister ever!" He threatened, his eyes glowing dangerously.

Ginny's face turned very pale, and Malfoy's neck turned a light shade of pink that creeped up to his nose.

"No chance of that," he said unsteadily, "I'd never dream of laying a hand on any Weasley trash." With these words he stormed away from the table.

Ginny sat down at the table silently, looking at the oranges intently.

Luna coughed slightly. "I was talking about the Witherweather bugs, wasn't I?"

Ginny nodded, and Luna went on.

Ron stood up and announced he would be in the library, looking something up.

"The library?" Harry asked in wonder, "Looking something up? Are you sure you're feeling all right, Ron?"

"I'm fine," he said untruthfully, "just need to check something. I'll be at practice on time, don't worry."

Luna looked up at him with a lopsided smile, and bid him farewell. "Goodbye, Ronald."

Ron gave a halfhearted wave as he left for the library and when he had just passed through the great oak doors it hit him hard.

"Goodbye, Ronald."
"Maybe doesn't mean yes, Ronald."

Ronald.
Ronald.

Ron grabbed onto a window to keep himself from swaying. No, it couldn't be her. Besides, he rationalized with himself, it was just a dream�

a/n: What do you think? Questions, comments, etc, can be placed in a review. Flames, declarations of love and worship can also be put in that handy dandy form. So do yourself a favor and give me some reviews. ^^
Hugs,
Vanilla

a/n: Chapter two! Wheehoo.

The library was awfully dusty, Ron noticed, as he pulled out a book on dreams and sneezed.

Interpreting Your Dreams and Visions by Hildegarde Doitchman was a thick, heavy tome that apparently had not been used for quite a long time, and had acquired an unseemly layer of dust.

By merely opening the book, Ron created a mushroom cloud that he coughed through and finally waved out of the way.

He idly flipped through the pages, looking for anything of interest.

He was waking up later, and was in a large bed. Much larger than his fourposter at Hogwart's and larger than his mum and dad's at the Burrow.

The sheets were silk and slid across his legs like wine, he thought groggily. He froze, his eyes still closed and heavy with sleep. His leg had touched another one, that wasn't one of his. It was long and smooth and curved delicately - a girl's leg. He flopped over, eyes still screwed shut and inhaled her hair, long, he noticed, and strange smelling.

He gave in to the urge and opened his eyes to take a peek at her hair color. Everything was black and white. Now he wasn't himself, he was a third person watching himself as he snuggled up to the woman.

"Maybe, eh?" Ron said, his words slurring lightly as his hand snaked around her waist. Even though Ron was not himself, he could still feel her smooth skin under fingertips...

"Maybe can mean yes, Ronald."

He pulled the woman into an embrace, and kissed her harshly, emptying his desire into an expression of love.

"Do you love me, Ronald?" She asked, her voice quiet.

"Maybe," he teased.

She wasn't happy with the teasing and flopped over so she wasn't facing him and he looked at her bare back in dismay.

There was a ringing in Ron's ears as he woke up, his dream fading away into a little puff of dust as he looked up to see Hermione flop a pile of her books on the table, smiling brightly.

"Hullo, Ron," she said cheerfully, "decided to finally put in some extra time for study?"

"Actually, I was looking up things on dreams," he said, pointing at the large book spread before him.

"Oh," she said dully, "Divination."

"Well, I guess so," Ron said, looking at her and trying to tell if her skin would be as smooth as skin he had felt in the dream� that was all he remembered, smooth skin.

Hermione propped up a large tome about Transfiguration and started taking notes, biting her lip in concentration.

She's pretty, Ron thought dully, but she didn't say maybe.

Hermione looked up at him with a frown. "Would you mind telling me what you're staring at?" She asked.

"Nothing," Ron said hurriedly, "and I'm sorry for asking that shag question. It was just� had to do with my dream."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Not - not like that, Hermione!" He exclaimed, his nose turning red. "It was� I was complaining about� a woman and she had� nevermind."

Hermione gave a little sigh and went back to taking notes.

Ron couldn't concentrate on the dreams book after ten minutes, it was all rubbish and Hermione was always sighing every few moments.

"What the ruddy hell are you sighing about?" He finally asked, closing his book.

She turned pink. Ron had never seen her turn pink.

"Nothing," she snapped, her eyes transfixed on her book. "Nothing at all."

"Bull," he said, "you're thinking about someone."

She gasped and looked at him in shock. "How'd you - no I'm not."

"Yes you are," Ron said calmly, "I can tell."

"No I am not, Ron Weasley."

"Sure you are. Is it Vicky?"

"Viktor and I broke up," she said carefully, folding her Transfiguration notes and pocketing them in her bookbag. "You remember that."

"You could miss him," he pointed out.

"But I don't." She snapped. "I'm not thinking about Viktor Krum."

"Then it could only be one person," he said, biting his lip before continuing.

She looked at him warily, as if daring him.

"Harry," they both said, Hermione confessing and Ron guessing.

"You called?" Harry said, popping up, his DADA books in hand.

"Harry!" They both exclaimed, surprised.

"What're you doing here?" Ron asked, as his friend sat down.

"Figured I'd do some homework with you guys," Harry said, "just got here a second ago when you said my name." He smiled at Hermione cheerily, his green eyes turning a shade warmer.

Hermione turned a becoming shade of red and opened her Potions manual and stared at the page with rapt attention. Ron wondered why he had never noticed how she got all gooey like that when Harry smiled at her. Like in third year, he recalled, just melting when he grinned and asked if she would report him.

Simply soppy. That's what they were, just dripping with warmth and gushiness. Hermione looked up from her Potions manual, and Harry looked up from his DADA notes. In slow motion, they moved towards each other, lines blurring together and an orange haze falling over the room. Their lips touched, and little sparkles erupted from their fingertips, white stars. Hermione's eyelashes dropped glitter on her cheeks as she pulled away and looked at Harry, whose eyes were greener than ever.

All furniture vanished and she crawled onto his lap and whispered love to him, and her hair, thick and yet beautiful, fluttered behind her in an invisible wind. Ron remained in his seat, watching listlessly.

It was sort of painful, but the warmth they exuded reached everyone in the library, and touched him down to his toes.

"So you just sort of make a jabbing motion when you do that spell," Hermione was saying softly, as Ron woke up from his dream.

"Oh?" Harry breathed, and Ron's eyes fluttered open but he didn't move, watching the two from behind his arm.

"Yes," she said, as he poked the air with his wand, "just like that."

They smiled at each other like they had a secret.

Ron made a big deal of 'waking up', coughing and ruffling his hair.

"Enjoy your cat nap?" Harry teased, and the warmth which Ron had soaked up during his dream sort of dwindled out of his ears and Ron realized that they were very good actors.

"Yes," Ron said, haughtily, "I actually did, thank you. Another dream."

"Another?" Hermione asked, incredulously. "That's amazing."

"What are they about?" Harry asked, furrowing his brow as Ron gave them a goofy look.

"Oh, this and that," he said in a singsong voice, standing up and stretching. "I'm off then," he announced, and left them alone.

Ron felt lighter now, as though the dream had suddenly freed him of all Hermione-related thoughts. No more of that nonsense, he thought to himself gladly.

He sat down on a bench and looked at a portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, who smiled down at him warmly.

"You know who it is," said the painting.

"Course I do," Ron said groggily, "it's whats-her-face."

Helga giggled. "She has a real name."

"Course she does," he said, "and it is whats-her-face."

The painting gave a sigh and the subject laid her head back against her velvet couch. "You're not getting any more dreams of your future, you know,"

"Oh?" He said, half interested, and half asleep.

"No," she confirmed, "what do you think of that?"

"S'nice," he murmured, and was asleep in his dream.

He woke up on the same bench and looked at the painting, who waved and walked out of the frame. He wrinkled his nose. Crazy dreams. He headed for the common room.

Ron was passing the entrance to the kitchens when he spotted Luna Lovegood tickling the pear.

She swung the door open, while reading the Quibbler in one hand.

He hurried to get to her side and join her in the kitchens before the door shut.

"Hello, Ronald," she said, not looking up from the tabloid.

"'Lo, Luna," he said cheerfully, "what are you doing?" He asked, curious.

She set the paper down on a counter and called for Dobby. Ron stood nearby and watched in interest.

"I was wondering," she said, her eyes wide, "if you recently served any Piabble fish?"

Dobby clapped his hands and smiled widely. "Oh yes, miss, Dumbledore's be wantings for Dobby to serve one with yesterday's trout. Like a wishbone, he's said,"

She looked at him in confusion. "Wishbone?"

"Dobby doesn't know," the house elf confessed, "but his master says it so."

Ron stared at the elf. "You actually served a� a Piabblawhatnot?"

"Piabble," Luna said calmly, looking at him. Her earrings today, he noticed, were shrunken garden gnomes that were wildly trying to escape their hooks.

"� shows you your future in funny dreams," she was saying, as he finished looking at her earrings.

"Yeah," he said, "I heard all that when you told Gin. But I thought Hermione said that they weren't real?"

"Hermione also said to me that she didn't fancy Harry, and that's rather silly too," Luna pointed out, and then let out a sporadic giggle.

She was humming Weasley is Our King very softly, a moment later, looking him up and down with pale eyes that chilled his spine and warmed his stomach.

Luna looked up at him, and he realized she was very close to him. She tilted her head back and looked at him beneath half closed lids and her lips were pouted apart, and he realized she wanted a kiss.

And he realized he wanted one too.

He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, a tentative searching of feelings and when Luna did not resist, he added pressure and deepened the kiss. His arms went about her waist, pulling her closer. She did step a bit closer, but she made no move to return his embrace, but kept kissing him.

He pulled away and looked down at her, and noticed she was looking at Dobby, who was still standing nearby, watching them in interest.

"Do you," Ron started, "want to go somewhere where there aren't nosy house elves?"

Luna looked at him and smiled.

"Maybe," she cooed.

a/n: Do review.
Hugs,
Vanilla

a/n: Last chapter! Thanks for reading along! Three cheers for HMS Red Moon! *raises goblet of pumpkin juice* In an answer to one of my reviews - I wasn't sure what year this ought to be, so I'm saying its 7th� I guess.

"Maybe?!" Ron exclaimed, looking down at the lithe girl in his arms.

"Yes, maybe," Luna explained, "it can mean yes sometimes, and no sometimes."

"No, I know what it means�" he said, quietly, "� Luna, do you think I got the Piabble at supper?"

She cocked her head lightly, wisps of dirty blonde hair falling across her cheek. He brushed the hair away and felt smooth skin under his fingertips. Smooth like in his dreams.

"I was in your dream?" She whispered the question.

"I think so," he said, "I'm pretty positive, at least. It was� she said� maybe, and� smooth�"

"You're not making any sense," she said hurriedly, and then paused, "but I never make sense, so it's all right. They say I'm loony or crazy, do you think so too?"

"I keep asking if she wants to have a shag but she keeps saying maybe. She's so loony," � "I love her but she's crazy."

"Course I think you're loopy," Ron said, looking at her swinging garden gnome earrings again.

"But that doesn't mean� that� I don't like you."

Luna screwed up her face. "You look like a Fire-whip Blark," she whispered, leaning in so close her breath tickled his nose.

"What�?"

"You're all red," she translated, and kissed his nose.

She slipped out of the kitchens.

Ron ambled out after her a moment later, his cheeks rosy. Looking around, he was dismayed to find she had disappeared around a corner. Oh well, he thought, I'll talk to her later. At that moment he really wanted to talk to Dumbledore.

He reached the gargoyles and racked his brain to try and remember one of the quirky passwords the headmaster liked to put on them.

"Pumpkin Pasties?" He tried, and the stone monsters came to life and leapt aside. Not bad, he thought to himself as he stepped inside and climbed the stairs, must be my lucky day.

Dumbledore was reading the Quibbler when Ron first saw him, sitting behind his massive mahogany desk. Fawkes sat on his perch nearby, and looked at him curiously.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore greeted him, lowering the tabloid, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?"

"The Piabble?" Ron said weakly, flopping into an overstuffed armchair that the headmaster had waved to.

Dumbledore's aged eyes twinkled merrily from behind his half moon glasses. "What about the Piabble fish?"

"I think I was the one who got it for supper last night," Ron said, "I've been having� weird dreams."

"Well, that would make sense," Dumbledore said, stroking his long beard thoughtfully, "but I doubt you are the only student who consumed some of the fish. It is a rather large trout."

Ron frowned. "So someone else has been having dreams too?"

"It is likely," the headmaster agreed, smoothing out the crinkled Quibbler.

"So all those dreams� were bits of my future?"

"In false circumstances, yes. The content, of perhaps, conversations, are the fact, while most of the situation is the fiction. Strange thing, the Piabble."

Ron thought back over all his dreams, and frowned. "They all sort of made sense as to coming true, except one. I know that one would never happen, thankfully."

Dumbledore's eyebrows raised. "Mr. Weasley, if you truly consumed Piabble, all of the dreams which you have had in this time period are completely true, and will happen. One cannot be completely untrue."

"But it has to be!" Ron protested. "Malfoy would never� touch� he'd never-"

"Would you like to explain the dream and perhaps we can figure it out?" Albus suggested, eyes smiling.

"Malfoy - he� he-shagged-my-sister-on-the-Hufflepuff-table," Ron mumbled very quickly.

"The Hufflepuff table? Interesting. But I'm afraid it bears some truth, Mr. Weasley, or else the rest of your dreams are false as well."

"But they aren't! It was right about Luna, and the Harry and Hermione bit was bloody obvious�."

Dumbledore looked greatly amused. "Then I'm sorry to say, Mr. Weasley - your sister and Mr. Malfoy will indeed � have an interlude."

"Not bloody likely!" Ron roared, and then his ears turned pink and he lowered his head. "Sorry to yell, Headmaster, but it� no, it can't happen."

The old wizard leaned back in his chair and looked down at Ron from tired yet twinkling eyes. "Then neither can any of the others. Tell me - when did you have this other dream?"

"Breakfast," Ron said dully, going back to the incident in his head, "Malfoy came by and started talking bull, and so Gin got up and gave him a good smack-"

"And?" Dumbledore urged.

"Well, then I dozed off, and she was� you know� getting on top of him," he hissed, "and then I woke up and yelled at Malfoy to keep his hands off my sister."

"What did Mr. Malfoy then do?"

"Well his nose got this horrid shade of pink-"

"He blushed?"

"No he was disgusted� wait, maybe he� has he already done it?!"

"No, Mr. Weasley, the Piabble shows you things that have not yet occurred." Dumbledore said, not bothering to hide his smile.

"So then why would he blush?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Perhaps Mr. Malfoy got the other half of the Piabble at supper," he suggested. "And had a similar dream?"

Ron glowered at the headmaster. "If that's the case I can still prevent it from happening."

He stood and left, in search of his sister and a despicable Slytherin.

Dumbledore chuckled again, alone in his office and looked at his loyal phoenix. "Ah, Fawkes, you and I both know that the future cannot be altered, yes?"

The fiery bird gave a little cry of agreement.

Ron raced through the halls of Hogwart's, and into the Grand Hall in time for dinner.

His sister was at the table, talking with her friends and giggling.

"Gin," he said, standing over her, breathless, "what've you done today?"

Ginny turned a fetching shade of red and her friends giggled madly. "I-I've been studying with the girls," she managed weakly, a grin tugging at the edges of her mouth.

"No you have not! You didn't -" he lowered his mouth to whisper in her ear, "didn't do anything with Malfoy did you?"

Ginny stared at him in shock. "How did you know?" She croaked.

"You DID?!" He roared, and the dining room fell silent.

"It's none of your ruddy business!" She shrieked, standing and facing him.

"The hell it isn't!" He shouted, "He's evil!"

"You flatter me," said Draco, who had, once again, seemingly appeared from nowhere. "But I'm afraid I'm not that bad."

Ron punched him in the nose.

"I told you never to touch her!"

The Grand Hall went back to its usual talkative self, only with more hushed gossip floating about than usual.

Draco put a hand to his throbbing face and glared at Ron with silvery eyes. "You can't change anything the Piabble shows you. Might as well get it over with, I said to myself."

"So you did get the fish!" Ron said, and looked at his sister, who was watching Draco sadly.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Ron asked her, and her lip trembled.

"I didn't think I was something to just get over with," she screeched at Malfoy, who didn't bat an eye.

"Best fuck in my life, you said, midnight at the Astronomy tower, you said. Get it over with?!" She was livid, and Ron felt smug.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows at the youngest Weasley. "Pity it didn't work out, you were rather good," he confessed, then left.

Ginny sat back down at the table with her friends, stonyfaced. And Ron stood alone between the Hufflepuff table and the Gryffindor one, happy.

Finished that one, he thought, though his mind was tugging at him.

"Ronald," Luna chirped beside him, her eyes wide, "why did you do that?"

"Because it was wrong," he said, and took her by the arm and dragged her out to an empty hallway. "It was wrong on so many levels."

"But it was love," she whispered.

"Maybe," Ron said, before he could stop himself, "but I highly doubt it."

"Maybe sometimes means yes, Ronald." Luna said, her eyes twinkling.

Ron leaned down and kissed her, wanting to forget the incident with Draco and Ginny.

"Ronald," Luna gasped out, as his head ducked down and he littered kisses on her neck, "that's nice that you care about Ginny like that, but I think it could've been true love."

He pulled away and looked down at her in surprise. "You are loony. Besides, my dream never said anything about love."

"Maybe his did," she whispered, but Ron silenced her with a heavy kiss.

"Let's go have supper, then," he said, grabbing her by the hand.

"All right," she consented, "I can tell you about my dad's discovery of Nefferbautum. It's like an aphrodisiac, they say�."

They traipsed off to the Hall together, hand in hand.

Nether suspected of Ginny and Draco as being excellent actors, and neither questioned Harry or Hermione's whereabouts.

But it was better that way.

a/n:Please review.