Something to Believe In

"Oy, Harry! Wake up, mate!" Ron's voice seemed to echo through Harry's brain, moving at an alarmingly slow speed.

"Wha--" he said thickly, through a mouth full of pillows.

"We'll miss the train, it's half past six."

"Gimmeaminute," Harry muttered incoherently.

"Alright," Ron said reluctantly. "Just five mind you, Mum will kill me if you don't get out of bed."

Harry heard the distinct soft click of the door being shut and Ron's large feet shuffling down the hall into the bathroom. He groaned loudly. If only Ron could understand what Harry was feeling, if only Harry could understand what Harry was feeling.

Unhurriedly, Harry pulled the covers off and let the draft from the open window wake him up. He didn't want to get out of bed.. He had felt that way all summer.

It was as though he had merely existed for two months and no one understood. How could he share this with Ron or Hermione? How? Ron had all the love he needed as a child. Never once being deprived of love, never once wished that his aunt and uncle would love him only for a day on an imaginary birthday cake. And Hermione, finding comfort in books, books who couldn't feel, books who couldn't tell you they loved you, but her parents told her that.

Neither of them had ever had any loss, their shares seemed to have been given to Harry who had already lost so much.

Now Sirius was gone, there were times when Harry felt as though he couldn't breathe. Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse or that he had the strength to move on, a fresh wave of guilt and grief struck him with full force.

It was much like drowning or being suffocated. He couldn't feel anything but unbearable sadness and nobody had any idea what it was like! Nobody! He was numb, his senses were slowly ebbing away and Harry was powerless to stop it.

Finally after much deliberation, Harry threw a protesting leg over the bed and stood. He could smell the rain thrrough Ron's open window. He walked over to it and looked down into the garden.

If he weren't feeling so miserable Harry would have laughed. Ron, who had been trying to round up Crookshanks, had fallen face first in the mud and was swearing loudly while Hermione was shaking her finger at him for scaring her precious ginger cat.

As it was though, Harry was feeling miserable. Grumbling, he stepped across the hall and into the bathroom for a quick shower.

"Oh Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, twenty minutes later, when he entered the small kitchen. "I was just going to wake you up myself. How did you sleep?"

"Fine, thank you," he lied.

"Do have some breakfast dear," she prodded.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Weasley, I'm not hungry," he said tonelessly.

"Nonsense, you haven't been eating at all this summer. How could you possibly not be hungry?"

"Alright, just some toast then," he said with resignation in his voice.

Molly Weasley turned her back to him while she did the dishes and frowned. 'Poor dear,' she thought miserably. She had been so worried about him at his Aunt and Uncle's that she had marked the days down on a calendar to when he could come and stay at the Burrow (after several, highly effective, safety charms) were placed on the property.

Though, having Harry here didn't bring her any relief either. He wasn't himself, not even Quidditch brought him any sense of identity. She knew he wasn't sleeping well too, and that when he did it was like trying to wake the dead. Things only a mother could tell, and yes she did feel like his mother. It pained her to see him hurting as it would one her own children.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The train station was crowded and noisy as ever as Harry, Hermione, and Tonks, who was their guard, and four of the Weasley's made their way to the barrier. Tonks and Ginny were chatting animatedly about a Weird Sisters concert that Mrs. Weasley had allowed Tonks to take Ginny to; while Ron and Hermione were getting into a heated discussion about who the next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would be.

Harry pushed his cart through the barrier, followed by the rest in pairs, but did not stop to wait for them. He heaved his trunk onto the train and into an empty compartment before walking off the train and back onto the platform to say goodbye.

After he had watched Mrs. Weasley give both of her children and Hermione a hug and kiss on the forehead she turned and squeezed Harry so tight he had trouble breathing.

"I'll really miss you, too, Mrs. Weasley," he choked out, through winded gasps of air.

Mrs. Weasley pulled away from him and wiped her now puffy eyes on the back of her hand.

"You be sure to eat," she said sniffling. "And you three had better make sure he does," she said rounding on Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

Back on the train Ron and Hermione went to the prefect's compartment for a meeting for those who wanted the position of Head Girl or Boy.

"Come on, 'Mione," Ron whined. "What if I don't want to become Head Boy?"

"Don't be stupid Ron, every prefect wants to be Head Boy or Girl," she said before dragging him down the train.

Harry would have smiled or even grinned at this, but once again, he wasn't in the mood. He walked down the train; hands shoved in his pockets and greeted some Hufflepuffs briskly before shoving the door of his compartment open.

Only, his compartment wasn't empty. Sitting with her feet propped up on the seat, sat Luna Lovegood, reading what looked like a muggle romance novel.

"Oh, hi," she said airily "I hope you don't mind, but everywhere else is full."

"Not at all," Harry said though he didn't quite feel it.

Harry sat down across from Luna just as the train began to move. He couldn't help but notice the strange array of clothing she was wearing. Muggle clothing, or at least some of it had to be. For instance, he knew that Converse High Tops were a muggle brand, he had seen teenagers in Little Winging wearing them. And that skirt she was wearing, a plaid school girl skirt that came down to her pale knees was a muggle fashion statement. But her shirt stated, 'Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans' on it, in letters that were making a feeble attempt to turn from emerald to purple and back again.

"Like my clothing do you?" she asked abruptly.

"I wasn't really---,"

"You were staring" Luna said blandly.

Had he been staring?

"Sorry," he said and truly meant it, he hated it when people stared at him. "I didn't mean---".

"Oh that's alright," she said nonchalantly. "Most people stare at my clothing, it could be seen as a bit strange I suppose."

"Are those muggle clothes, Luna?" he asked against his better judgment.

"Not all of them."

"Well where, I mean, when, what I mean to say is where did you get muggle clothing?"

"My cousin," She said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Cousin?" He asked.

"She's Muggle Born, you see."

"Luna," Harry said. "I thought you were a Pureblood."

"Mum and Dad were a witch and wizard," she said "But my Mum's sister married a muggle who had a daughter already."

"And the daughter turned out to be a Muggle Born witch?" Harry asked.

"Something like that," she said airily, "although I think that she may not even be Uncle Tad's real daughter," she furrowed her invisible eyebrows, "first marriage," she said.

"So, how are you?" she asked setting her book down.. "You know..."

"Oh," Harry said, his heart wrenching horribly. "Not good," he blurted out. Everyone had been too scared over the summer to ask him about it and now Luna was.

"After my mum died it felt good to talk about it" she said "Do you want to talk about it Harry?"

No! No, he did not want to talk about it, especially with someone he barely knew.

"Yes" he said before he could stop himself.

And before he knew it, he was telling Luna everything. How Sirius was the only parent he had ever known. And how he knew that Sirius had been his last hope for a parent, and how weird the Dursleys had been when they had said something about Harry's convict Godfather. And Harry had told them. He had expected them to say 'Good riddance', or for uncle Vernon to say something to the effect of 'Just one less weirdo in the world'. And how they hadn't said that at all; and how when neither Dudley nor Uncle Vernon was looking when Aunt Petunia had squeezed Harry's shoulder.

Luna had been a very good audience and had not spoken until the very end. She looked knowingly at him.

"That's how I felt when my mum died," she said sadly, "the part about not being able to breathe."

Harry watched her very closely as something happened that was much unexpected. Luna rose out of her seat, kneeled in front of Harry, put a hand on the back of his neck, and pressed her mouth against his.

Harry froze for a second; his last memories of kissing were unpleasant as they involved Cho. Luna was kissing him on the mouth, hard on the mouth. Harry closed his eyes to enjoy the strange moment.

But just as he did this Luna pulled away and began to read her book once more. Harry sat there stunned he opened his mouth as though to ask Luna about the kiss but at that moment Hermione and Ron walked in.

"Oh, Ron, they were not," Hermione said rolling her eyes.

"They were so!" he said hotly, "they were groping each other in public! They were all over each other."

"Ron," Hermione said gently, "they were only holding hands."

"They were kissing, too!"

"That was peck on the cheek was hardly a kiss!"

"It was disgusting!" he said, revolted.

"What's disgusting?" Ginny had just walked in the compartment with Dean, following closely, behind.

Now, Harry knew what he was talking about. It was no secret that Ron didn't approve of his sister's relationship with Dean. In fact, they had had a row about it three weeks ago, that had resulted in several broken dishes.

Had it been three weeks ago? Harry tried to remember the blur of the summer when he was interrupted by Ron's shaking his arm to get his attention.

"See what they're doing?" he hissed so only Harry could hear him. "See?!"

Harry looked up to see what Ron was talking about and then he too rolled his eyes. Ginny was sitting on the floor at Dean's feet with her head resting on his knee while he stroked her hair tenderly.

Harry just shrugged at Ron who was turning red in the ears. He was about to point out that Ginny and Dean weren't doing anything criminal when the compartment door slid open.

Draco Malfoy stood with his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, who looked as big as ever standing on either side of him.

Everyone in the compartment went silent.

"So, Potter," Malfoy started, his voice trembling with rage. "Heard about your Godfather, it was all over the paper. His death was in vain, you know."

Harry stood up; even Luna had put her book down and was watching in confusion.

"He was like a father to you, wasn't he, Potter?" Malfoy drawled on the word 'father'.

This made Harry burn.

"At least he didn't die in prison, Malfoy, which is what's going to happen to your Father."

"How does it feel? To lose two fathers in vain Potter? Knowing they died for a lost c---".

Draco had only stopped because Harry had lunged at him and begun punching him on every part of his head that he could reach. Crabbe and Goyle had tried to yank him off but Dean, Ron, and Neville, who had just arrived, jumped in and soon the entire train was coming to see what was happening.

Finally, the brawl was broken up by several D.A members who used numerous stunning spells to bring the fighting to an end.

Malfoy's robes were drenched in blood coming from his nose that looked as though it were broken and Neville, Ron, and Dean had several cuts and bruises.

Harry had an eye that was swelling and shut rapidly, and Crabbe had several purple things sprouting from his hair line from where Neville had cursed him.

The D.A members managed to talk everyone into taking their seats and Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle by threatening to hex them if they didn't.

"Man!" Ron said loudly, sitting back down. "I'm glad Malfoy's dad is in prison."

"Malfoy probably doesn't feel that way, in fact he feels that his father doesn't deserve to be in prison at all." Hermione pointed out diplomatically.

"Hermione!" Ron said in utter repugnance. "He tried to kill us last year! How can you say he doesn't deserve to be in prison?!"

"I didn't say that, I said that's how Malfoy feels and that was the point to begin with." She snapped.

By the time they had reached Hogwarts, Hermione had expertly healed their wounds so they wouldn't be questioned by suspicious teachers.

"Who is that?" Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione as they entered the Great Hall.

Harry looked up at the staff table to see what Ron was talking about. Sitting at the head table in deep conversation with Professor Snape sat a batty but slightly young looking witch in deep sapphire robes. She was interesting to look at, Harry noted. She had long light brown and grey hair that came to the middle of her back in an extended braid. Her eyes were large and tired looking and she was wearing a necklace on a piece of twine that looked as though it was a butter beer cap.

Harry stole a glance at Luna. He expected her to be eating or joking with her friends but she wasn't. She was staring at him. Their eyes met and Harry was mesmerized by her, Luna, peculiar Loony Luna Lovegood. Why? He couldn't say. It must have been the most unlikely match in history but Harry didn't care.

As he stared, her eyes seemed to have gone beyond the expanses of this world and into the next, and on forever.

That night Harry lay in bed but did not sleep. He could only think of her. If he was falling in love it was the strangest feeling he had ever experienced. He felt as though today had all been some strange dream and that tomorrow he would wake up back in the Burrow.

His eyes began to droop and he finally fell asleep, and for the first time in a long time his dreams did not haunt him.

Draco~

The house is exactly the way it was when he left it. There were the Persian rugs, the paneled rooms, and the portraits of some sleeping ancestors. There was a drawing room that could fit several other drawing rooms inside of it. He runs a filthy finger over one of the polished table tops. The table had been given to them by one of Narcissa's great aunts, so they could hardly have refused it, however much Lucius had wanted to incinerate it after stubbing his toe on the polished legs. Now, Lucius just looked down on it sadly, a reminder of better times.

DING

Lucius nearly jumped out of his skin.

DING

Only the clock.

It is nine o' clock. The guards haven't noticed yet but they will. He picked up his speed knowing that he will meet no one and almost wishing that he would. Draco was still in school and Narcissa was in France. He hated having to put his wife through the humiliation of another ministry raid, but it would be inevitable after the guards discovered his escape.

He came to Narcissa's dressing room with out really meaning to. This too made him sigh. It wasn't a large room, it was almost circular and had large half oval windows, some of them stained glass, some of them looked onto the rose gardens. Her perfume bottles lined in neat rows on a table next to her vanity which was adjacent to four large, magically enhanced wardrobes. They had made love in one of those wardrobes once, a long time ago.

Lucius lingered for a moment, inhaling her scent. Narcissa. How he had missed her while he was away. Some nights he would almost pretend that he was merely away on business or that she was next to him.. Her soft porcelain skin caressing his own. He was glad now, as he rested his hands on a set of her dress robes that had been thrown over the back of a chair, that she had not been involved with Death Eater activities. She was delicate, a lady in every sense of the word. A supporter of the cause, yes, but not a Death Eater.

Next, he went to his bedroom. He looked around and sighed heavily, nothing had changed, not a thing. The beautifully polished furnisher, and the high posts of his bed. He lay down wearily for a moment; taking it all in, Draco had been conceived on this bed. In the throws of passion, one night him and Narcissa had become very drunk, it had been three weeks before the wedding. It had been her first time. Lucius nearly groaned at the thought. Other times came to him too, sweeter, sober times, times that left him dizzy with feeling, times that left him breathless with anticipation, times that were no longer. He raked his hands over the bed spread the heavy green silk that he had slept under so many times with Narcissa's limb entangled with his own.

His eyes began to leak, he could not bear to stay.. He briskly walked over to his own wardrobe and selected robes that would go unnoticed if missing. He could not afford to let the ministry know that he had been there. They would of course look, but they need never know that he had been there.

He walked back down the hall, his mind wandering when he came to an abrupt stop in front of his son's room. Light was flickering through a crack in the door. Curious. Surely it wasn't yet time for the Christmas holidays, and even if it were, Draco wouldn't come here; he would go to France with his mother.

Lucius heard movement inside the room. He stiffened, if Draco was home, Lucius couldn't let himself be seen. Silently he reached into his soiled robes and removed a small vile, uncorked it, and drank half of the contents. His skin bubbled and felt as though it were on fire for a moment, and then nothing. He was invisible.

Lucius let his hand rest on the door handle and turned as silently as possible. Draco was home, but thankfully his back was turned to the door, so he did not notice as Lucius slipped in and closed it again.

Draco was facing the fire place and ringing his hands nervously. Nervously? How very un-Malfoy of him. Lucius's eyes narrowed, what is Draco doing home?

Lucius did not have to wait very long for an answer. In a whirl of green and purple sparks something very large shot out of the fireplace at Draco's feet. Lucius watched as his son rushed forward and picked that something, or rather someone up.

The reason that Draco had come home so unexpectedly early, had been answered.

A girl in her Hogwarts robes stood up gracefully and smiled at him. Draco smiled back, leaned in, and kissed her. Lucius let out a silent sigh of relief. His son wasn't homosexual, thank the gods. He had so feared that he was.

Now, Lucius looked on in pure curiosity. She wasn't particularly pretty, well perhaps pretty wasn't the word. She was pretty, but not stunning. Draco could have done so much better, but Lucius couldn't be too disappointed, at least she wasn't a boy.

He watched them speak in low tones to one another for a while. While Lucius couldn't catch all of what was being said, he caught some phrases.

"No one is here?" the girl asked.

Draco shook his head and said something into her ear that Lucius didn't hear.

The girl blushed.

Draco smirked and reached a hand around to undo the binding of her hair.

Now the strange girl shook out her hair in waves of brown and whispered something into the younger Malfoy's ear.

It was Draco's turn to blush. He covered it noticeably (it will come in time my son) Lucius thought, Draco's hand pulled her in by the small of her back and she gasped.

Well done, Lucius thought with a smirk of his own.

They were moving ever closer to the four poster bed. Lucius was suddenly reminded of himself and Narcissa at their age.

The two teenagers fumbled with the clasps on each others robes inexpertly. Draco was still smiling at this mysterious girl with affection in his eyes. But why had he never mentioned this before. Had they just recently formed an attachment? No, Draco was now bringing hand up to softly stroke her cheek, it seemed as though he was in love.

Draco, in love.

Lucius smiled fondly. His son was in love.

But who was this girl? And why had Draco never mentioned her before? She looked slightly familiar but he couldn't quite place her. She couldn't be in Slytherin. Was she on another house's Quidditch team? Somehow she didn't seem like the athletic type. Her robe had just slid off of her shoulders revealing her uniform. At least she wasn't fat, although her hips and bust were very prominent.

Who is that girl? Lucius thought. Maybe I know her family.. But that wasn't it either, she looked so familiar that he had to have seen her somewhere before. Lucius began to rack his brain of all of the school functions and social gatherings where he might have seen her before when a thought came to him. A horrible, terrible, mind numbing thought.

It simply couldn't be. But the more Lucius looked on, the more he knew. That brush of hazelnut curls, the way her shoulders hunched slightly, the way a librarians might after years of carrying heavy volumes. But it couldn't be. No, it wasn't, he had raised his son better, he would follow in his foot steps. She merely resembled her that was all. He shook his head mightily and shuddered.

When Lucius looked again the two had slipped under the comforter, presumably naked. The girl said something in a very bossy voice about protection and Draco said he didn't want to use any.

"Draco," the girl said severely. His son grumblingly complied.

Lucius's heart stopped.

He knew who she was; his worst nightmares were coming true.

The girl's name was Granger, Hermione Granger, the mudblood friend of Potter's.

He would have preferred him to be gay. His son, his heir who carried in his veins thousands of years of pure undiminished blood, was fucking a mudblood under his roof! Was in love with one!

Lucius stood there, unseen and horrified as they fornicated.

He wanted to kill her, more so than he wanted to kill Harry Potter himself. But not now, no, she wasn't worth his exposure and reinstatement back in Azkaban. He wanted to lunge at her and choke her until she coughed her filthy blood onto his carpet. But he didn't, he simply stood there listening to their labored breathing, unseen in a dark corner.

When they were done, which wasn't long after they had started, Draco collapsed on top of her and blew the candle out.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Harry yawned and stretched in the arm chair by the fire. His homework was nearly finished and it was only four o'clock. This could have been a record.

He looked to his left, his best friend, Ron Weasley, was having no such luck. He kept writing things and promptly scratching them out with his quill, muttering curse words under his breath.

"Damn Snape!" he said hotly.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"This potions essay is what's up," Ron growled. "I can't make any sense of what to write!"

"Don't know what to tell you, mate," Harry said finishing the last four sentences of his transfiguration homework. "Hermione helped me with mine."

Ron let out an exasperated sigh and said, "Where is Hermione anyway? I haven't seen her all day."

"Dunno," Harry said "I haven't seen her either. Library, maybe." He added as an after thought.

"No, I went down there earlier. Madam Pince says she hasn't been there all day."

"She hasn't been in the girls dormitories either," said a voice from behind them.

Ron and Harry both whipped around to see Ginny standing behind them dressed in all muggle clothing.

"How do you know?" Ron snapped. "And what are you wearing?"

"I wanted help on my summoning charms, and I've just been on a date."

"A date!" Ron roared "with who!"

"Ernie McMillan, not that it's any of your business, Ronald," she said coolly.

"I thought you were dating Dean Thomas," He said angrily.

"I was," she said pulling her bright red hair into a loose bun. "But I decided that I like Ernie much better."

"Oh, so it's Ernie now is it?" He seethed.

"That is his name," Ginny said more coolly, still.

Harry sat there for a moment or two listening to Ron's tirade about Ginny's numerous boyfriends before standing up and saying that he fancied a walk. He doubted, as he slouched through the portrait hole that either of them had heard one word he had said.

Harry stepped out in the corridor and sighed. He could go to the library, but he had just finished his weekend homework and didn't much feel like studying. He could practice quidditch, but just remembered that the Ravenclaw team had booked the field that afternoon. He could look for Hermione, she had been gone all day, and he was starting to worry about her. That was what he'd do, he would look for Hermione.

Looking for Hermione turned out to be more taxing than he thought.

Although Ron had already told him that she wasn't in the library he headed off in that direction anyway. This turned out to be a mistake. Upon arrival of the library he stopped and asked Madam Pince if had seen Hermione that afternoon.

"No, I have not!" she said hotly.

"It is not my job, Mr. Potter, to keep track of a student's whereabouts in this school! I am the Librarian! Not a babysitter!"

Harry, after fleeing the Library, had a rather nasty run in with Peeves, the school poltergeist.

Peeves, who had been throwing Filch's cleaning supplies into the vanishing cabinet, tried to upturn a bucket of mop water on Harry' head.

Harry had dodged the flying bucket just in time for it to splash on Mrs. Norris, who went hissing off, behind a tapestry to find her owner. Harry had wisely skirted off down another corridor just in time for him to hear the unmistakable wheeze of the care taker.

Harry pocked his head around a corner to see if the coast was clear when he heard,

"Harry, hey Harry," he turned to say hi to fellow Gryffindor, Seamus Finnegan, coming down the corridor.

"Hey Seamus," Harry said.

"What are you doing here?" Seamus asked.

"Looking for Hermione." He said. "Have you seen her?"

"Yeah," Seamus said thoughtfully, "thought I saw her go down to see Hagrid, but that was hours ago, I mean she should have been back by now. Why are you looking for her, anyway?" he asked.

"Something to do," Harry said nonchalantly.

"Maybe Ron knows where she is, I know, how he fancies her and all," Seamus's words had barely sunken in when he said, "Well, I have a date with Lavender, so I'll see you around."

Ron? Like Hermione?

Harry thought back, yes, Ron did like Hermione. He racked his brain, there had been more than enough incidents to prove this true. The Yule Ball, where Ron had all but beaten Viktor Krum to a bloody pulp for taking Hermione, and the way he had looked at her. Last school year, when Hermione had kissed Ron on the cheek before his first Quidditch match. And it wasn't only the big things, but the subtle things that no body would notice unless they were really looking, the way they argued and ....

Harry couldn't think any more. He knew he should be thrilled for them, but... If his two best friends became more, where did that leave him? He couldn't go to Hogsmeade with them anymore. Not that he wouldn't be welcome, he just wouldn't feel right about it, like he was intruding on their relationship.

He had been considering going down to Hagrid's to find her, but he was too depressed. He wondered aimlessly around the castle for the better part of an hour. Pausing here and there, once to talk to Nearly Headless Nick, another time to dodge three first years that had enchanted what looked like muggle roller skates to fly, and were zooming down the hall at top speed.

Harry paused some time after visiting the owlery at a large oak door at the topmost part of the castle.

The original astronomy tower.

The new one was currently on the other side of the school, and has been placed there when professor Trelawney took residents beneath the original and had claimed, with much dramatic flailing of her long arms, that the sounds of students snogging "clouded her inner eye".

He didn't know why but he felt compelled to push the door open. It was much older than the new one. The new astronomy tower was built out of white marble and the door opened to a large circular flat, ideal for star gazing. This one however, opened to an ancient looking stone stair case.

Harry climbed the staircase attentively and stopped dead as his eyes reached level with the floor at top.

A girl was sitting on the edge of the rail the over looked the grounds with her back to him. The sun was blazing madly, so it made her look almost orange.

He was sure he had found Hermione. But what was she doing all the way up here? And why was she sitting on the edge of the astronomy tower stories above the ground? He ran the rest of the way up to the top.

"Her--,"

He stopped short.

The girl that had turned around was not Hermione, it was Luna Lovegood. Harry didn't know quite what to say, he had not seen her since that day on the train where se had kissed him, and now felt incredibly awkward when she was around.

"Hello Harry," she said.

"Oh, Luna," he said panting slightly. "I thought you were Hermione."

"No," she said. "Hermione isn't here."

"Have you seen her?" Harry said desperately. "I've been looking for her for an hour."

"She isn't here," Luna repeated.

"I know," Harry said irritated. "but do you know where she is?"

"Not here," she said peacefully.

"I know she's not here," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"I don't think you do," Luna said "She isn't here, in school.."

"Of course she is," Harry said, unless...

"Luna," he said urgently, "she isn't, nothing," he sputtered.

"She'll be back this evening," Luna said.

"It isn't even a Hogsmeade weekend!" Harry flustered. "Where did she go, is she in any trouble?"

"No," Luna said peacefully. "She's with on a date."

"A date!" Harry exclaimed, sounding uncannily like Ron. "With who? I thought her and Ron---,"

"No, she hasn't liked him for months."

"She hasn't?" Harry asked bewildered.

"No," she said serenely.

"Then who?"

But Luna didn't answer, she merely shrugged.

"Luna," Harry started, "what are you doing here? It's freezing outside." That was true; it was one of those clear icy days just before snow.

"Oh, it's Mum's birthday today," she said sadly. "So, I thought I'd come up here and think."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry said looking at the tops of his shoes. He knew exactly how she felt.

"It's alright," she said. "Do you want to stay? There's going to be a sunset in a moment," she was looking at him hopefully, her large eyes round.

"Oh," he started, he didn't know if what he wanted was to watch a sunset with Luna Lovegood. "Okay."

For the better part of twenty minutes they watched as the sun began to sink slowly towards the edge of the forest before Luna spoke.

"So, are you better?" she asked.

"Wha---," he started, "oh, uh yeah, loads," he lied.

"You're not," she said matter of factly, "but you will be."

"Luna," he said sharply. "Why do you ask questions when you already know the answer?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said, swinging one leg over a battlement. "Because I want you to talk about it, I know you haven't been." She added slyly.

"How'd you know that?" he snapped.

"Inner eye," she said stretching.

Harry snorted.

"Luna," he said, "I wish you wouldn't sit there." He couldn't help but noticing that they were several stories high, and one slip would indeed be fatal.

"Why?" she asked "I come here all the time." She stretched even more dramatically, only this time she stretched so quickly that she lost her balance.

Harry watched as in slow motion, her eyes became unnaturally large and her mouth shaped itself into an "o" of surprise. She started to slip, slowly at first. Then, on instinct, Harry reached an arm around her waist and heaved her back over the wall and she came tumbling back down on him.

Harry lay flat on his back and opened his eyes to see a very startled looking Luna atop him.

His reaction was immediate.

Later, he would ask himself why he didn't use his wand levitate her, but not now. No, now, he reached a hand up to her face and brushed his fingers through her dishwater blond hair. She only looked at him, her large eyes the color of the lake on cloudy days. In that instant, Harry could not think why he had ever seen her as anything but perfection. The Mother Goddess herself, looking out through Luna's protuberant eyes.

Softly, gently, he sat up. Luna was still half way on his lap, his legs were falling asleep but he didn't care.

Their eyes locked, in an infinite dance of caresses and soft longing. He reached out again, again his hand reaching through her hair, but this time he pulled her to him. Her face was now less than an inch away, and he brought his lips down onto hers.

This was nothing like the kiss they had shared on the train. It was drawn out. It was a composure of lips and crisp night that was over falling.

Harry didn't make it back to his dormitory until very late.