Just a Kiss

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He was scared.

Harry's palm lay flat on the door to the Astronomy Tower.

He knew Luna was up here--he'd combed the whole castle, even her Common Room, and was only rewarded with snickers and jeers. It had taken nearly an hour or even more, he hadn't been keeping much track of time. He wanted to find Luna, yet he didn't; he was stalling.

I can't do this. Harry closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool wooden door. What would Luna say? What exactly was he supposed to say? "Luna, I'm sorry I thought you gave me love potion--by the way, I even think I love you or something! Isn't it great?" And what would Luna do? Accept him with open arms, telling him she'd felt exactly the same and forgive him? Yes, and perhaps Draco Malfoy would be announcing he and Harry's upcoming wedding in front of the whole school as well...

Harry shook his head and ran an uneasy hand through his hair. What the hell was he doing here, thinking he could just up and convince Luna to... not hate him. To be with him.

The thought made him laugh. A small, sad laugh. His heart wasn't in it.

It made him feel as if he were in the Triwizard Tournament again, waking up on the morning of the Second Task after a full night in the Library, desperately searching for help to no avail... and knowing he had nothing at all; knowing that he'd be the only participant that would not be able to complete the task... because he'd given up.

He turned around and walked away, leaving the door unopened behind him.

For a few moments, that is.

Defeated, Harry had only gone a ways down the circling staircase when a new thought made him stop dead in his tracks.

Who said it was supposed to be easy?

Harry gasped, realizing he was teetering dangerously on the edge of the stair, and after a series of acrobatics even circus performers would envy, his backside eventually found the stair with a loud slap! that echoed in the long, narrow stairwell.

"What am I doing?" he asked, and the question echoed all around him, as if ten invisible Harrys were on the stairs.

He was giving up? After everything he'd endured?

Harry's hands balled into fists. He wasn't weak. There was no way he'd be able to live with the knowledge that he faced Lord Voldemort one-on-one but was too scared to talk to Luna.

More importantly, Harry knew, was that maybe Luna hated him, maybe she'd never forgive him, and maybe he'd make an ass of himself... but he had to tell her how he felt about her. How right it felt to hold her hand, to hold her close. How He didn't have a choice, really--it had been hell keeping it all inside for two days and the notion of adding even two weeks to that was torture. He couldn't hide his feelings anymore. It wasn't worth it.

With a quickness that came from his old days of escaping from his cousin Dudley and his crew, Harry was back on his feet and running for the Tower door.

At least Luna would know he was sorry, and that he didn't dislike her in the least. Not even close.

If he wanted Luna to be his... he had to try. Easy or not.

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Harry busted through the Tower door, a secret part of him feeling very superhero-like indeed, and stopped so fast he nearly left skid marks on the stone floor.

Luna was sitting on one of the battlement's merlon, looking up at the moon. Her long hair was messy from being whipped about by the wind, and one of her legs was pulled lazily to her chest. Plus, for some reason Harry didn't even attempt to understand, she was barefoot; her socks and shoes were discarded on the floor nearby. But the moonlight gave Luna an almost eerie, shimmering glow, and Harry was dumbstruck.

She was beautiful.

"You've been doing that for awhile."

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice. He must have been staring at Luna for longer than he'd realized... because she'd realized it too. "I'm sorry," he breathed, around the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat.

Luna didn't respond, but returned her gaze heavenward.

Er... so she hadn't said anything. Okay, okay, that's not a really a bad sign, Harry reassured himself hastily, determined not to lose the courage he had managed to scrounge up. Even so, he found it somewhat difficult to force his feet to move forward as he headed over to Luna, swallowing several times in an attempt to remove the lump from his throat. It wasn't only uncomfortable, as was to be expected, but he could hardly get a straight word out.

Harry gingerly sat down on the "tooth" of stone that was closest to Luna, though it separated them by at least a foot or more. He moved to face her, the Astronomy Tower on one side and the school grounds on the other, very far below. But it didn't matter--he couldn't take his eyes off of the girl in front of him, bathed in moonlight. She was still staring at the moon as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Luna," Harry tried, and the words came out all mangled.

She didn't answer, didn't move a muscle.

The lump got bigger. "Luna." Harry was taken aback--how could she ignore him like this? He was practically right next to her but suddenly she was acting as if he weren't there, like he wasn't anyone to her! His chest restricted suddenly--was he anyone to Luna at all?

Probably not.

Sure, everyone knew about her involvement at the Department of Mysteries last summer, but it was sort of a fluke--Luna had just gotten caught up in the whirlwind of craziness that day, that was all.

Harry touched his throat; the lump remained. But she did want to help me, she fought beside me, he couldn't refrain from thinking, even when I was being a jerk. Remorsefully, Harry also remembered that it had been Luna's idea to use the Thestrals to get to London. Their conversation at the end of last year trigged his memory, too. It was funny--he had been the one who felt sorry for Luna, whose possessions had been stolen, but yet Luna had ended up making him feel better about Sirius's passing instead.

But he had to admit that Luna was almost as much of a mystery to him now as she was then. ...Yet, he had become practically obsessed with her.

But wasn't it so much more than that? He wanted to get to know her and find out the Luna mystery, he wanted to have fun with her, to have her in his arms to hold...

"Luna!" Harry had cried out before he even knew it. He didn't care why anymore! The sound of his voice breaking was jarring, but he pushed on urgently. "Please, just listen to--"

Luna stood up. "Harry."

"--me..." Harry trailed off, too quiet for his own ears. He stared at Luna questionably, hopefully--

Her hands. Harry did a double take, not believing what he was seeing.

Luna's hands were shaking.

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Luna wandered over to the Tower's west side, the one that faced the Quidditch Pitch. She was wringing her hands, twisting and turning them over and over again behind her back.

What could Luna be nervous about? Harry had to wonder, his heart pounding at the sight. He didn't even know Luna could be nervous.

"I lied," Luna said suddenly, closing her eyes.

What? Harry waited with bated breath, but she didn't continue. "About what?" he asked, his voice wobbling terribly as he slowly made his way over to her. It couldn't be, he told himself, no, surely it couldn't be about the--

"About the Amortentia," Luna told him, her voice shaking a little, too.

"No..." Harry mumbled, covering his eyes. Dread dropped hard into the pit of his stomach, making him feel as if he'd just been socked by a heavyweight boxer; the lump in his throat doubled in size.

But Luna hadn't finished. "About... the way it smelled. To me."

She sighed and walked over to Harry, who was rather dazed by this revelation. "Don't you want to know what it smelled like?" she asked him after a moment, eyes on the floor. She had finally stopped wringing her hands and lowered them to her sides, but they were fisted, Harry noticed, and it seemed as if they struggling to stay that way.

Harry nodded, the only thing he was capable of doing at the moment. He felt numb, and yet he trembled, unsure of what to expect from Luna.

Luna took a deep breath, unnerving Harry even more with her show of vulnerability, and took an even closer step forward. Another few inches or so and he could kiss her. The thought sent a chill down his spine. "I smell the wind, Harry, broom polish and shaving cream, and something else, something sweet and musky..." She touched his arm, and Harry was struck by how sensitive his arm had suddenly become, like he could feel each and every cell of her fingertips...

Then, finally, finally, Luna's eyes, turning completely silver in the moonlight, met his. "It smelled... like you."

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Harry's head was buzzing. Then again, maybe the sound was coming from somewhere outside. But there was buzzing, he knew that. Buzzing and thumping. Yes. Loud, fast, thumps.

"I didn't want to tell you," Luna was explaining through all of the buzzing Harry heard, "because of Ginny, and I didn't want to make things worse for her, or you..." Harry understood that Luna had only been trying to protect them, and he felt an upsurge of affection for her. "I wasn't exactly sure how you felt about me, either, and I know that some boys might not be very happy to find out that Loony Lovegood might have feelings for them," she added in her factual way, though her eyes seemed sad.

"Luna?" Harry's voice, now clear and crisp as the night air around him, ceased all the noise and a part of him couldn't help but be relieved. His eyes stuck on Luna's, he groped blindly for her hand and caught it easily; the warmth and familiarity of it was reassuring and exciting at the same time.

"Yes, Harry?" Luna's eyes were shining and there were two small patches of pink on her cheeks. Harry couldn't help cracking a grin at the sight of her, especially knowing his cheeks were burning as well.

"I like you." The words rolled off Harry's tongue easily, and the weight of holding it in lifted from his back. He stood up straighter, feeling the difference immediately. "I don't care what anyone says. And... I'm sorry about the way I acted earlier," he added, lacing his fingers with Luna's. "I was a complete ass and I don't want you to be cross with me." He sighed. "...I didn't want to face the truth."

"It's okay," said Luna thoughtfully. "A part of me didn't want to face the truth, either."

"But I hurt you," said Harry remorsefully, and shook his head.

Luna gave his hand a light squeeze. "That's true, but I still understand." She smiled up at him. "And I like you, too."

"Luna..." Harry's eyes softened. This had all begun with Luna's question--that one little question about kissing and the fireworks kisses. He could hardly believe how far it had gone and how much had changed in the past two days, but he was quite happy that the rollercoaster ride was over.

Well, not yet...

He had to know.

The hand that wasn't holding Luna's suddenly moved to her waist, and Luna's free hand automatically snaked behind his neck. Harry was certain that she had been waiting for this too, making him all the more wanting. He let go of her hand to place his palm in the small of her back, pulling her close, and Luna grasped his arm in return and closed her eyes.

Harry kissed her, and he was someplace else; the electricity of their connection gave him a rush and suddenly he was--was he?--flying, they were flying!

Or falling! Harry was beyond caring now, he just wanted Luna, who--Gods--felt so good...

Luna curled her fingers into his hair and he instinctively deepened the kiss, savoring the taste of her, the smell of her, and the feel of her at once--this was Luna, and he had her at last.

Harry wasn't exactly sure where he was at first when they broke apart and he finally opened his eyes. There was so much noise. But who cared? Grinning stupidly at Luna, he moved in to kiss her again. She evaded him, pulling urgently on his arm. "Luna, what--?"

Luna's eyes were widening madly as she pointed over his shoulder. "Look Harry, look!" she cried as a flash of pink suddenly lit up her face. Disbelieving, Harry spun around just as flares of purple and green exploded into the heavens.

Fireworks! Not the imaginary, in-your-head kind, but real live fireworks! And not just one or two, but loads of them in varying colors and sizes. Harry had no idea where they were coming from, but there they were, appearing and exploding all over the sky.

Harry looked back at Luna, smiling wider than he'd ever thought possible. "Do you suppose I've gotten my mother's message about the fireworks a bit mixed up?" she asked him cheerfully.

Harry grinned and leaned his head against hers. "Maybe," he said with a laugh, and kissed her again.

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Their were screams and laughs amid Gryffindor Tower as people rushed about in their bedclothes, each trying to find the window with the best view. "Hurry Hermione, come see!" Ron shouted up at the girls' dorms, his tee shirt twisted in places.

Hermione emerged at the top of the stairway in her bathrobe, rubbing her eyes. "What is it Ron? Did Harry or Ginny make it back yet? It's been hours--" Parvati and Lavender appeared, squeezing around Hermione and bounding down the stairs, giggling.

"No, but check it out, it's really cool!" He beckoned her along and ran to the nearest window.

Hermione followed disinterestedly, annoyed at the noise level--the whole castle would be up at this rate, and then what would Professor McGonagall say? She was supposed to help keep the castle in order--she was a Prefect! "Ron, I don't know what's going on, but--" Having reached the window, Hermione blinked twice before she could continue. "Fireworks?"

"Yeah, like Fred and George's but different! I wonder who did 'em, they're fantastic!" Ron told her excitedly, as a flare exploded into a multi-colored mass the size of a small asteroid. Various levels of oohs and aaahs followed, but Hermione was speechless.

Ron scratched the back of his head. "...You okay, 'Mione?"

Her voice was tight. "Where's Harry?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"Not back yet, remember?" Ron gave her shoulder a quick shake. "Stop worrying so much. I'm sure he's fine, he's Harry, right?" He laughed. "And Ginny can take care of herself."

Slowly but surely, a smile spread across Hermione's face. "Yes... I suppose you're right," she agreed airily.

"So enjoy the view!" Ron urged, guiding her closer to the window so they could get a better look.

She wasn't one hundred percent sure, but it seemed as if her theory was correct! It all adds up, Hermione thought, extremely pleased with this achievement and the fact that the answer had come about so quickly. If Harry had hadn't told her about his escapades with Luna the other day, she'd never have guessed. But... should I tell Harry? After all, I'm not even sure Luna knows she's--

"GO GRYFFINDOR!" Ron cheered along with some of the other students as gigantic red and gold fireworks exploded simultaneously, and put his arm around her. Blushing a bit at his open show of affection, Hermione nevertheless got ready to tell the room to quiet down when a chorus of boos were heard outside, as well as from the direction of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Common Rooms. Clearly, Gryffindors were not the only ones awake.

Slytherin's dungeons were too far below for them to hear any hisses, if they knew of the fireworks' existence in the first place. Either way, Hermione knew that somehow, they'd make their voices heard soon enough.

"Hufflepuff rots!" Seamus Finnigan taunted, yelling out of the window, and the rest of the room responded with loud cheers of assessment.

"GRYFFINDORS ARE STUPIDER THAN HUFFLEPUFFS!" a bunch of Ravenclaws screamed.

"No we're not!" Hermione shouted back indignantly, just as there was another blast and a sparkling green SLYTHERIN RULES! was hanging over the lake. This set off the loudest boos yet and caused a wave of backlash from the other three houses collectively as more fireworks and insults were added to the mix, in the color of whatever House it came from.

Hermione sighed, counting down the minutes (seconds?) until her Head of House appeared to shut them all up. Letting off a round of giggles when SNAPE TUCKS THE SLYTHERINS IN AT NIGHT was blasted into the air by Ron, she decided to have fun while it lasted--but readied herself to run at the first sound of stomping feet, a sure sign of an angry McGonagall on the way.

She'd worry about everything else in the morning.

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Sitting in a very large and thoroughly scourgified window somewhere in the relatively empty Owlery, Ginny laughed, shaking out her now messy hair. "That's all you could come up with? 'Slytherin Rules'? Somehow I expected more poetic from you, Malfoy."

Though his hair was hanging in his face, Ginny could still see Draco cut his eyes from where he was half-sitting against the window frame, right next to her. The top two buttons of his dress shirt were open and his black, green, and silver striped tie was loose around his neck. "I see you failed to notice that you have come up with nothing yourself, Weasley." He snorted. "I'm not surprised."

Ginny shook her head and looked away, clearly hurt. "I was only joking, you know. Why did you have to say that? I thought... we were having a nice time."

"You started it," Draco replied coolly, though he looked uncomfortable with her reaction.

"You were being defensive," she retorted.

He ignored her. "And you called me 'Malfoy' first, too."

"I've always called you Malfoy!" said Ginny, exasperated.

Draco raised an eyebrow in mock amusement. "That's funny, because you weren't half an hour ago--"

"Draco!" The few owls still around rustled their feathers in alarm.

"Oh, now you want to call me--"

"Stop it!" she cried angrily, red hair flying as she jumped off of the window-sill to the Owlery floor. One or two owls took to the air, hooting, and flew out a window.

Spinning around, Ginny folded her arms beneath her chest and glared at Draco. "I'm not the only one who was calling someone out of name tonight," she reminded him. "I needed someone--and for whatever reason, I know you did too. And you know what? I don't regret it, either! Do you?"

"No!" Draco looked surprised at his honesty, but he quickly changed it into a mask of defiance.

Ginny stared him down. "Then don't try to throw it in my face!"

The remaining owls screeched loudly and took off after the others.

Draco tore his gray eyes away from hers first. "Why the hell did you want to come up here, anyway?" he asked tersely, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out a silver cigarette case emblazoned with the Malfoy Crest, and with a snap opened it and pulled out a slim white cigarette with a dark purple filter.

Ginny watched him edgily. "I was going to set off a bunch of Filibuster Fireworks when Harry and Luna finally kissed," she told him, answering him at any rate. The Astronmy Tower was in full view from their section of the Owlery, and so were the two figures on top--if you squinted.

A matching magical lighter was produced from the case, and Draco let out a low chuckle. Pulling out another cigarette, he offered it out to Ginny. She took it, albeit reluctantly.

Trying not to look awkward because she didn't smoke--and half-wondering why she even cared what Draco thought--Ginny stuck the cigarette between her lips in what she thought was the correct fashion and leaned forward to allow Draco to light it. She managed to inhale a small amount of the smoke without coughing while Draco lit his own cigarette. "Why?" he asked her, after taking a long drag.

Ginny sighed and sat back down next to him, both thankful and surprised that he hadn't said a mean word about Harry all night. "Harry had said something to me about fireworks and kisses... I just thought it was what he really wanted." She snorted. "But someone else--or something else--beat me to it, I guess." She took another hit of the cigarette, attempting to inhale more this time. It didn't work, and she ended up hacking and coughing up the purple smoke.

Draco patted her on the back. "You don't smoke," he guessed.

Ginny coughed again. "No."

"It's okay." The gentleness of his tone flattered yet unnerved her a little too. Ginny remembered how he had held her while she cried, and told her the same thing then.

As if she thought she'd ever have Draco Malfoy console her, Ginny Weasley, a member of the clan his family hated, for anything! It had happened so quickly, but yet like clockwork, as if it had been planned by... someone or something, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she had been crying, and Draco had come up to hassle her; she was ready to come back with some stinging remark, but words had failed her then. She just cried.

Then, without a word, Draco's arms were suddenly around her, whispering soothing words in her ears. He had held her tight, but gently, as if she'd break if he made the wrong move.

Ginny didn't ask him why. To be quite honest, at first, she really hadn't cared. He let her cry on him, and that was enough for her.

Somehow they made their way to an empty classroom, and some things... happened, mainly an all-out snogging session with perks. I bet Ron would've loved to see that, she thought dryly, though she knew it would probably be a cold day in hell before she told him anything of the kind anytime soon. Now she and Draco were here in the Owlery, arguing one minute and sharing cigarettes the next. It wasn't normal. But she didn't care anymore.

Luna and Harry weren't normal, but maybe... neither was she. Or Draco or anybody else. They were all weird in their own ways, weren't they? Oh Gods. She was starting to sound like one of those After-School Specials, one of the only things her mother would allow her to watch on that Muggle television her father brought home when she was younger. (It was thrown out the next year when Fred and George were caught trying to hit each other with chairs--something on some wrestling program--and her mother swore never to have one in the house again.)

"I'm sorry."

Ginny glanced up at Draco, who was running a hand through his pale hair. His troubled eyes had dark circles under them, but there was sincerity in there, too.

"It's okay," she said, taking a page from his book. Ginny examined the lighted cigarette between her middle and index finger before taking another drag. It really wasn't so bad, when you got used to the taste and the bit of head rush in the beginning.

"You don't have to smoke that," said Draco, pulling the hand that held the cigarette down and away from her mouth.

"I know," Ginny replied, taking her arm back.

"Why are you still here?" he asked, sounding curious rather than confused.

She didn't answer, but a grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Smiling, Draco shook his head. "You don't know why, do you?"

Ginny blew out a puff of smoke and shrugged. "Nope."

Draco kissed her.

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Much, much later that night, Harry was getting ready for bed after dropping Luna off at her Common Room some minutes earlier, when the fireworks and all the House rivalry hoopla had died down. His dorm was quiet except for a few snores from Ron and Neville, and he had just taken off his pants, ready to jump into bed, when a scroll of parchment fell out of the pocket.

"Oh yeah," he mused quietly, picking it up off of the ground. "Hermione's paper." The girl who had given it to him had been acting pretty oddly, really adamant that he not read the thing. The whole thing was utterly suspicious. Had she... wanted him to read it?

Maybe he could just take a peek? Harry eyed it mischievously, wondering...

No, he was reading into this too much. Besides, it was probably just some assignment or something. It was Hermione's, right?

Harry placed the scroll on his beside table and got into bed, but he couldn't sleep. His mind went from Luna to the scroll and back again, not matter what else he tried to think about.

After another twenty minutes of this, Harry grabbed the damn thing and opened it up, squinting both because it was dark and because he didn't have his glasses on.

It wasn't going to be anything interesting, anyway.

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Luna Lovegood --> Fireworks --> ?

Kisses with the one you truly love makes you feel all kinds of extraordinary feelings according to Luna, Harry said; and the mentioning of "fireworks" in particular reminds me of something I've come across before, about the Ancient Gods and Magic.

Excerpt from Magical Legends and Lore by Hil Kinger, page 453-454:

"Just like the Love Goddess Aphrodite, her female descendants, the Amoras, also had a very interesting way of knowing when they had found their soulmate.

When such an Amora and a suitor kissed (Muggle or Magical) and magical sparks of vary colors and sizes suddenly appeared around them, it meant that the two were destined to be soulmates. This phenomenon was eventually named the Sparks of Passion. When the Sparks they appeared over a lucky couple in ancient times, the couple's family and friends held celebratory gatherings in their honor. This tradition would most likely be upheld today, but tracing Aphrodite's lineage has become nearly impossible.

While the appearance of the Sparks of Passion are not a binding contract that two soulmates must marry, it is commonly known that ancient Amoras mated for life."

Luna must be an Amora. Having heard the story of "firework kisses" through her mother, I can assume that her mother is also one of Aphrodite's descendants.

Harry's infatuated with Luna. It's painfully obvious how much he likes her now. If they kiss and the Sparks appear...

Could Harry and Luna really be soulmates?

I suppose there's only one way to find out.

H. J. G. ~ 04-06-1996

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Harry read the paper twice to make sure he hadn't missed anything, rolled it back up, placed it back on his nightstand, and fell back into the pillows.

So... because Luna was one of Aphrodite's descendants, the Sparks of Passion would appear when she had found her soulmate.

And that person... and had been him. He was Luna's soulmate, and Luna was his.

If... he believed in any of that. Did he? He wasn't sure.

It was huge, HUGE to be seventeen, Harry Potter, and find out that your soulmate is Luna Lovegood--or anybody for that matter. He should drop dead, he should jump up and do something. Yell a lot, too, whether it's good or bad things.

But nothing really surprised Harry anymore. And besides... he didn't really mind.

Harry Potter went to bed that night with a smile on his face, his only thoughts of seeing Luna the next day.

Fin. (Psyche!)

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