Chapter 1: Who's Coming Out Tonight?
Luna Lovegood was desperate. If you had asked her two days ago how her plans for the Ministry's "Annual Mingle with the Magical Media Ball" were going, she'd have been enthusiastic in her reassurances that things were, indeed, going swimmingly. Yet somehow here she was, with approximately twenty-two hours left to go before all of the wizarding world's eyes were turned to one of the most celebrated events of the year, and she was this close to jabbing her assistant in the eye with a quill. Hard. And perhaps even with a little twist for satisfying measure. Luna sighed at her stress-induced violent thoughts. Not that she hated her assistant - how could she, when the man could make a ridiculous cup of tea with both hands tied behind his back and a blindfold over his eyes? But he just so happened to currently be the one individual with the great misfortune of close proximity to the much-hassled Director of Events. It just isn't fair, Luna thought to herself. Why did she have to deal with all the stress of planning the Ministry's biggest fete? Who cared that she had poured all of her soul, time, and energy into building up The Quibbler in the five years since leaving Hogwarts? So what if her father had swiftly relinquished control over to his supremely talented daughter, the one with what all of Britain lauded as a "keen eye for not only truth, but art and business, as well"? What did it matter that The Quibbler had won numerous prestigious awards for excellence in journalism, currently employed the highest number of talented writers in all the industry, and was still growing at such an astonishing rate that the rest of the magical journalism world had long before let out a collective sigh in resignation and stepped aside to applaud its obviously superior member? Luna growled (not too quietly, either) to herself, quelling the slight swell of pride that had begun to timidly raise its hand in acknowledgement deep within her. Pride be damned (here it hung its head in shame), Luna thought, nearly bowling over one of those annoying Ministry paper-pushers who contributed nothing more to her cause at the moment than an uncanny ability to get in her way at the most inopportune times. If Luna couldn't pull this ball off, in her first year of heading it, then her pride would never be able to face the wizarding world again. She absolutely needed this ball to go off without a hitch. She needed to give Britain's wizarding society the best damn show they had ever seen.
Ginny Weasley stifled her laughter as she trotted to catch up with her best friend. She knew how much pressure Luna was under to dazzle all of the wizarding society with her hard work - not that anyone had any real doubt of Luna's abilities. Yet she also knew that Luna would not appreciate Ginny's laughter - at least not right now. Luna wasn't dubbed "The Perfectionist" by all of her friends for no reason. Ginny did not envy Luna's current position at all. All of the wizarding elite would be at the ball tomorrow night, and not just those from the media. The Minister of Magic would be attending with his family, and all of the greatest scions would never pass up such a prime moment to flaunt what they had. Ginny snorted quietly to herself. She would be going for the free food, the limitless drinks and the live music. Never mind the limelight. Thank God for being Luna's best friend and one of the most prolific and lauded writers of her generation (here Ginny's inner pride preened in the way that Luna's had not been allowed to). Ginny was determined to enjoy a splendid and well-deserved break from all of her hard work.
Seeing her friend's blonde head rapidly turn around a corner, Ginny sped up and called out her name.
Luna halted mid-stride and mid-rant, turning to see Ginny approach her.
"Ginny!" Luna exclaimed. Dismissing the assistant nervously hovering at her side, she grabbed a hold of her friend's arm and steered her into an empty Ministry office.
"What's happened?" Ginny asked once they were seated. "I heard you mumbling to yourself again, you're really starting to scare the Ministry drones."
Luna waved away the statement about the Ministry workers with an impatient hand. Much as she hated being around them for so long, she needed to work closely with them for the ball. At first, they had joked about the Ministry being her second home; she spent so much time and effort planning, that some nights she didn't go home, content to fall asleep sprawled out over her notes laid out on someone's borrowed desk. Yet eventually all the joking had ceased, only to be replaced by a widespread ripple of dread that charged through all of them every time Luna showed up. "She's here," they'd whisper, terrified to face the zeal of a woman hell-bent on perfection. "Duck!"
"Cassie," Luna began to explain with an irate tone. "I book her six months in advance of the ball, yet two nights before, our darling pop princess decides to fall ill with a sore throat and cancel her performance."
Ginny allowed herself a few chuckles at the look on Luna's face. Cassie was every wizard's wet dream: a reincarnation of a young Lauren Bacall, equipped with the smoky voice of a Nina Simone in her prime. It was a potent (and bestselling) combination. (Ginny was quite pleased with her comparisons. Trust her dad to inundate all of his children with a broad knowledge of all things Muggle.)
"C'mon, Luna," Ginny snapped out of her inner musings and refocused her attention on her friend's ranting. "It's not as though she did it on purpo-"
"No performer!" Luna interrupted wildly, grabbing at her own hair, though she certainly looked as though she wouldn't mind taking a stab at Ginny's as well. The stress was getting out of hand. "That was one of the biggest selling points of the ball, and now she's incapacitated!"
Ginny put on her sympathetic face and took Luna's hand, more to prevent her tearing out clumps of hair than anything else. "I'm sure you can find another performer, just as good, who's more than willing to step up to the challenge."
"That's just it! I planned the entire night around the theme in Cassie's set list. I can't think of any other performer who'd be able to fill her role. And it's too late to change the theme." More dramatically than was necessary, Luna flung her free hand over her forehead. "Oh, woe is me!"
This time Ginny burst out laughing. "Luna, you'll be fine, I love the music you chose! It won't be hard to find a performer eager to spend a night covering old Muggle standards."
"Yes, you do love the music, don't you?" Ginny began to worry as Luna suddenly resumed her quiet and slightly deranged mumbling. "You not only love the music, but you also know it all by heart, you've been singing it since you were a kid, you can actually carry a tune, you're mildly attractive..."
Ginny gaped at her friend. "Mildly attractive?" She couldn't help but feel affronted (and her inner pride growled, just a tiny bit).
"All right, really attractive, but I'm not a lesbian," Luna amended. Her eyes lit up as she took Ginny's other hand, squeezing both in a pleading manner. Puppy dog eyes, here we go, she thought to herself, allowing the tiniest of cackles.
Was that an actual cackle? Ginny vaguely wondered. "Luna, no way," she protested loudly, knowing how those mad cogs in her old friend's head turned.
Damn, Luna thought with a small frown, I might have to tie her up. "Oh, go on, Weasley!" she exclaimed feverishly. "Who else can I trust to do this right? I need a sultry songstress to act the part of a singing Forties' siren, and I want it to be you."
Ginny shook her head so hard that she felt dizzy after, shuddering inwardly at the thought of getting up in front of all the wizarding elite and belting her heart out for hours. As for a gown? Ginny frowned. Makeup? She shuddered. Hair product? She gagged. Heels? Get the hell out. "Sultry? But I'm not -"
Luna flapped a hand in what Ginny thought was meant to be a dismissive manner, but really just made her friend resemble an impatient chicken. "Where's that famous Gryffindor courage you're always banging on about?" Luna was a shrewd woman. She knew that nothing forced Ginny to act more than a taunt about the size of her balls. So to speak.
Ginny stared at Luna. Hard. She couldn't believe that Luna would call her out on her courage. Of all things! She was no coward, damn it.
Luna, for her part, knew that Ginny was now really close...
"You get all the free drinks you want." Luna pounced upon the silence that indicated a weakening of willpower, and tossed out the best offer she had.
"I thought I was getting those already!"
"Not if I have anything to say about it, you don't." Luna's eyes glinted with a militant light, her mouth drawn into a firm line that she'd obviously swiped from McGonagall.
"You drive a hard bargain, Lovegood," Ginny announced wearily. Then, after another pregnant pause, "I'll do it." The concession sounded weary and just a smidge amused. "But only because you have the power to deny me unlimited free drinks."
"It's because you love me, don't lie. Me and my drinks." Luna grinned in triumph, unable to contain her delight. She now had her performer, and nothing could stop her from this point on. Her night was sure to be a smash.