Dumbledore, Please Explain Your Twisted Logic!

Disclaimer: Not mine, effing etc., etc.

Chapter Twelve

A Triangle in Formation

The first thing Harry realized as he and Luna traipsed through the double doors of the Entrance Hall was that it was uncomfortably chilly outside. November was technically in the autumn, but the trees were bare as skeletons, and the sky had turned the translucent gray shade of a promising snow cloud. The air was dry and cold. Harry immediately rolled down his sleeves, but found that it didn't help.

"It's cold!" he hissed to himself. "Merlin, why did Dumbledore have to send us outside to practice our act?"

"He suggested the stables," Luna said, her head tilted to one side at an angle that was too crooked to look normal. "Just before we left, you must have heard him."

"Must've missed it," Harry muttered. Actually, he was still too preoccupied by Luna and Ginny's catfight to pay attention to anything else. He wasn't Crabbe--he had a brain, and it could figure out that two girls were fighting over him, and it knew why. Luna was eager to pursue some relationship with him, and Ginny was desperate to hold onto him. It was a straightforward development, but it portended some acutely uncomfortable decisions that loomed in Harry's future, like swords dangling above his head only by a thread of magic.

Let's see how it stood: Break up with Ginny, go with Luna, and face the heat of dumping one girl unceremoniously for the other. Or: Repel Luna's advances, stay with Ginny, and be a bored, miserable wanker. Either choice broke that thread of magic holding the sword, effectively decapitating any chance at a convenient resolution.

"Well, he did say it," Luna said.

"Say what?" Harry had forgotten what they were talking about already.

"Go to the stables to practice," Luna repeated.

"Oh, that," Harry said quickly, suddenly remembering. "Yeah, I only heard him say go outside."

They started down the steep slope towards Hagrid's Hut. The stables were between the half-giant's house and the castle gate, though Harry had never really explored them during any of his nighttime wanderings.

"It must've been the Cockleflurr," Luna said sympathetically. "Really, Harry, you must learn to ignore them, or they'll take shameless advantage of you."

"What are--?" Harry stopped suddenly, not wanting to hear Luna's explanation. He quickly revised his question: "What are the stables like?"

"I don't know, I haven't visited them, either," Luna replied. She skipped lightly over a gnarly hump in the path, while Harry tripped stupidly against it. He cursed himself a million times in his mind and tried to muster forth all the mental focus he had gained during training for his final fight with Voldemort.

"I hope they're warm," Harry chattered, not really thinking about what he was saying. For some reason, he felt the urgent need to fill up the space between the castle and the stables with conversation. He cursed himself again when he realized how whiny he must have sounded.

"You didn't bring your cloak," Luna said with a sidelong glance at him. "That's too bad."

"Y-yeah," Harry said, his cheeks turning a cherry red, possibly because of the cold, but definitely because of his blush. Shut the hell up, Harry Potter! he chastised himself. Nothing good is coming out of your mouth!

"How about Warming Charm?" Luna suggested.

"Can you cast one?" came the hopeful reply. The wind was really biting at him now.

"Nope," Luna said as her serene smile turned quite impish, "but certainly the great Harry Potter can?"

At first Harry was a bit insulted by her terminology, having spent all his school years avoiding the limelight and all the insinuations it dumped upon him. He turned to glare at her, but then saw the laughter in her eyes. She was just teasing him. "Har har," he said sarcastically, "but the great Harry Potter isn't all powerful. It's not like I can pull magic out of the air and make it do anything I want. I actually have to learn a spell and practice it, like everyone else."

"But think of all the spells you cast during the last battle!" Luna pressed, her eyes wide. "Certainly a Warming Charm must pale in comparison."

"Exactly," Harry said firmly. "I was training for a battle, for Merlin's sake! A Warming Charm did not seem like a useful addition to my arsenal."

"And after the battle?" Luna asked, securing her arm more firmly around his.

"And after the battle," Harry finished, "it was fucking July. So I learned the Cooling Charm. Which is as useful as air conditioning in the Antarctic at this point."

Luna ran her smooth palm down the side of Harry's face. The comforting stroke painted a line of tingling warmth on Harry's cheek, and his blush increased. "Fear not, my battle hero," Luna cooed, "We've reached the stables, see? They're sheltering, they're warm. Like a womb."

She emphasized the last words, which somehow translated from like a womb to like my vagina between her lips and Harry's brain. By now he was beet red and sending so many curses at his own brain that it would have been as dead as Voldemort had they been real.

"I see the Skeezers have been painting scarlet canvases across your face," Luna remarked, running a finger along Harry's blushing cheek. "Why have you let them get to you?"

Harry tried not to bring his hands up to cover the burning sensation of embarrassment that flushed his face. Why was it that Luna was so adept at making him feel acutely aware of every stupid mistake his body made? "Let's get into the stable," Harry said quickly, dragging her by the hand.

The stable looked adequate from the outside. It was a nondescript building made of plain wood with no paint. It looked large enough to hold two-dozen horses, and the roof looked thick enough to shut out the strong breeze that had been tormenting Harry for the past five minutes. The inside matched the outside--there were indeed two-dozen stalls, twelve on each side, and there was also a rickety loft above from which a man could pour down a horse's food into its trough, and it was all built in the same plain style as the outside--except for one thing. The roof was not as thick as it looked. It had a thousand tiny gaps along the eaves, which enticed even the weakest drafts to come swirling in, which were just enough to send shivers down Harry's spine. Perhaps the structure itself once had a Warming Charm, but as there were currently no horses, any possible spellwork had faded away into nothing.

"Fuck!" Harry moaned. "I'm still freezing! This didn't help at all!" He hunched inward, trying desperately to shelter his chest with his frigid shoulders. In didn't work.

Luna shuffled closer to him and wrapped one arm--her left arm, Harry knew without thinking--around his shoulders. "I'm glad you're cold," she whispered into his ear. "I'm glad it's come to this."

"C-come to what?" Harry said grievously, pained at her callousness. The wind was as cold as Ginny's recent kisses and as biting as her most caustic comebacks, and the best Luna could think up was "I'm glad!"

"Well, this just goes to show you're not all-powerful," Luna reasoned. "And while you are obviously strong and very brave--you defeated Voldemort, after all--there's something very boring about a perfect man. A man like that can't be made any better--he simply reaches his pinnacle, then coasts through the rest of his life in a complacent ease, if the Gnarls don't drag him down, that is."

"So you want a man with lots of flaws?" Harry said, feeling very confused by her logic.

"Only a few flaws will do," Luna purred softly. "And you have just enough to match me."

"You? Flaws?" Harry couldn't figure this out. Luna never let any of her flaws show! The only thing that people might find wrong with her was that she was so weird. But that's what Harry liked about her--that she wasn't normal! His relationship with Ginny had been exhilarating in its heyday, but it was still very much a storybook romance with a depressing reality that sneaked in after the Happily Ever After. It started out the same as the supposedly perfect romance, and now it was ending just like every other. The sex was good (but did we do it to soon? he wondered), and the talks were good, when they happened. But really, it was such a cliché romance they had! So much fluff--so many declarations of undying love, so many promises to live the rest of their lives together, so many fueled sessions of passion in various broom cupboards and hidden rooms, and hardly any fights before the final battle. Maybe Luna was right. Maybe perfect was too boring.

"I have flaws," Luna said openly, her eyes wide on her face. "Sometimes I let the Gnarls get to me, too."

Harry gave a sort of smile. It was only a sort of smile, because he was not sure what expression was passing over his face, although he was painfully aware of the way in which Luna would read it. Would she think he was glad she was talking to him or insanely nervous? Or maybe she realized he hardly knew how to reply. All of these were true.

"Now about the Warming Charm," Luna said, hardly changing her tone. "It's a good thing you and I can't do one, because the Heebripple is eager to help us."

"How do you mean?" Harry said. Suddenly he was interested in this dubiously existent animal. Luna was constantly referring to phenomena nobody else had ever heard about, and at times it drove Harry up the wall, trying to figure out what she was talking about. But today he suddenly wanted to know what each animal stood for and in what way it influenced the svelte Ravenclaw that stared into his wide green eyes. Before he hadn't wanted to hear her explanation about the Cockleflurr; now he did. Knowing what the Cockleflurr was would tell him something more about Luna, he was sure. So would the Heebripple. Before, all this was unimportant. Now he had to know.

"Well," Luna danced around the chilly stable in a sublimely languid twirl, her rich blue cloak tickling the straw and mud as her starkly blond hair hung in the air as if suspended in innumerable rays of sunshine. For one eternal moment she shimmered as the only vision of light in the graying stable, and it knocked the bottom of Harry's stomach clean from his body.

Then she flitted towards the loft and continued speaking. "The Heebripple says to ascend the ladder to the loft and go to the circular window at the end."

Harry didn't even think to ask why. Unswervingly obedient, he clambered up the ladder after Luna and pattered towards the end of the barn, where a circular window stood at the level of his torso, just wide enough for him to leap from, though he never entertained the notion.

The windowpanes were long gone. The window sought that very opening and whined through it, freezing Harry so much that the cold was sunk past the skin and towards the bone.

"This is not helping!" he bawled as the wind whooped loudly through the rafters.

"Now the Heebripple says to look out the window!" Luna called as she stood beside him, both arms wrapped around his middle.

So he looked out. From this window he could see the Forbidden Forest, its trees littering the landscape like a pile of skeletons relieved only by the clumps of evergreens. Beyond it were the icy mountains. It was now snowing.

"Can you see him?" Luna asked, looking up from his chest and into his eyes. "Can you see the Heebripple?"

Was this one of her tricks? There was no such thing as a Heebripple! Just like there were no nargles or Cockleflurrs. Just like the blush on his cheeks was from embarrassment, not Skeezers. Just like she was the craziest person he knew in Hogwarts, except perhaps Dumbledore. So, he reasoned, the Heebripple couldn't exist! Could it? Whether it did or not, Harry stared out that window, his eyes watering in the wind. The snow was rapidly growing thicker as it dusted the brownish grass of the Hogwarts grounds. The sky was now more white than gray, and its burnished hue made the outdoors suddenly brighter. The skeleton trees were now gathering flecks of skeleton white. But there was no Heebripple. "What does he look like, the Heebripple?"

"I can't explain it to you," Luna said cryptically, "there are really no words for it. But you'll know when you see him."

So Harry squinted his eyes and tilted his head. He blinked a few times, then stared hard into the gathering snow. But, unless he failed at observation, or unless Luna was having him on, that Heebripple remained stubbornly elusive.

He turned to look down into Luna's bright gray eyes. "I--" he began. He meant to say I can't see him, but Luna chose that very moment to reach up and kiss him squarely on the lips.

For a moment Harry was too shocked to do anything but stand stupidly beside the girl who was kissing him. Then, partly out of habit and partly out of grateful excuse, he responded to the kiss with an eagerness that surprised him. Luna's mouth was a bit smaller than Ginny's, but it was warmer, and the taste was more fresh, more wild.

Then Harry's blood grew hotter, and his arms wrapped around Luna's slim shoulders in an effort to pull her body up against his. It was a successful effort, thanks also to her willingness to intensify the situation. She deepened the kiss, slipping in a little tongue, before suddenly breaking away, keeping Harry at an arm's length from her.

"Can you see the Heebripple now?" she asked mischievously.

Harry had forgotten he was cold--heck, how could he be so cold when his veins burned so hot? He had forgotten he was in a rundown stable with no horses. He had especially forgotten about the bloody play practice. He was much too occupied with what he was quickly coming to realize was the best kiss in his whole life. Better than any Ginny had given him. Better by far than Cho's lame-arse crying snog. Better than his pillow fantasies.

As if in a trance he turned towards the window at Luna's question, his hands still running inquisitively up and down Luna's cloaked arms. He saw the snow outside, now falling thick enough to obscure most of the trees. He saw the sky above, covered in snow clouds. And he felt, rather than saw, the warmth that flooded through his soul as he held a beautiful Ravenclaw with a heart of quicksilver.

Who wanted a heart of gold? Everyone had a heart of gold, so long as they were glued to the lips of the person distributing the honorific. In the past Ginny had a heart of gold and a spirit of fire, and look where it got them! No, Luna's heart was quicksilver, and her spirit was a phoenix. Why was this? Harry had no heck of an idea. It just sounded cool in his brain, though he wasn't really thinking about it at the time. He thought more about it afterwards, and yet he was also thinking it sort of now. What the hecking fuck! It was all mixed up and down and around anyway! What did it matter what he thought and when? He had kissed Luna. He had kissed Luna Lovegood!

And as he held in his arms the phoenix spirit with a heart of quicksilver, them both staring out into the growing snowstorm, impervious to the wind, he felt his breath catch in his throat, and somewhere in his mind a barrier broke, and he felt a sudden inrush of knowledge that he never knew he had. He looked out into the snowstorm and whispered, "I see it, Luna, yes! I see the Heebripple!"

And she was right. There were no words for it.

~~~~~

"If she's abusing this opportunity by springing a surprise snog on him, I'm going to clock her senseless, then get Malfoy to rape her unconscious arse," Ginny said sullenly, glaring into the mirror.

"The Malfoy part should be pretty damn easy," Ron said with a slight smile as he brushed his sister's hair with meticulous strokes.

"It just... she just..." Ginny's breath grew faster as her brow wrinkled into a helpless frown of frustration. She pounded her fist against the makeup station, and the blushes and greasepaints danced a startled little hop before clattering back on the counter.

"Ssshh," Ron said softly, brushing with one hand and giving his sister a gentle hug with the other. "Just calm down, take a deep breath... that's it, like that... and just wait. Then think... think about what you're trying to say, then tell me."

Ginny dabbed at the corners of her eyes, then took two deep breaths just to make sure she had fully collected herself. Then she continued, her voice catching a little in her throat. "I'm angry," she said, and Ron believed her. "Of course Luna's trying to steal my boyfriend. She's had a crush on him almost as long as I had. Ever since our First Year she's always had an affinity for writing his name on her notes and in her books. And she talked about him an awful lot, if I remember correctly. She was a lot better about it than me, though: She never pined ridiculously for him, because she was just too... perfect for that. She just waited patiently, even when I took Harry as my boyfriend. For a period of time she stopped writing his name on her books, she stopped elaborating her fantasies to me, and she even helped me secure his affections."

"Wow, this is news to me," Ron said, raising his eyebrows. "I always thought Luna had a wetness for Harry, but a full-blown, six-year crush? Harry never knew, I'll bet."

"Yeah," Ginny said sullenly. "But the second she realized things weren't working out between Harry and me, she began writing his name and drawing his picture again, fantasizing about him, and even actively trying to break us apart.

"So you're mad at her for moving in on him," Ron prompted as he took three thin strands near the top of Ginny's head and started a French braid.

"Yes. No. No, I think.'

"Meaning..." Ron gathered another strand of hair and added it to the braid.

"Meaning, well..." her face darkened, and her eyes filled with weary age. "It's only logical she should make a move now. She senses--rightly--that Harry and I are... are falling apart. So she helps speed the process along so that she can get him for herself. Fuck, maybe I should even be grateful. She's shortening the final throes of agony before the inevitable death." She scuffed her toe at the floor and looked so miserable that Ron gave her another hug (with his elbows and chest, because his hands were tied up with the French braid).

"You're being ridiculous," Ron said. "In a way, Luna's still stealing your boyfriend, even though you two as an item are about to be yesterday's news. It's natural that you'd feel angry at her."

"God cunting damn it!" Ginny cried, jerking her head suddenly to face her older brother. Her braid became undone, and she glared into Ron's eyes with a ferocity that looked feral. "Who I'm really mad at is Harry! If it weren't for the way he's been acting, we'd still be a happy couple, and Luna wouldn't be sniffing after him. I can't believe he'd let our relationship end this way!"

Ron turned her around again and started the braid all over again. "What way? What's he done?" he asked.

Sniffing back a tear, Ginny said slowly, "I... don't know. He's letting our romance drag in the gutter. He kisses me with his face screwed up, like he's kissing a fish or a cockroach."

"Or a Malfoy," Ron added with an attempt at levity.

"And he's just... scorning the fact that he ruined our fairytale ending," Ginny said ignoring Ron's joke.

"He's acting like there's something wrong on my part, when it's really him who's caused this."

Ron braided slowly and said, "So what do you plan to do?"

"What do you think I should do?" Ginny cried, a little hysterical. She jerked her head around to face him, and if it hadn't been for Ron's quick fingers she would have ruined the French braid again.

"Honesty is the best policy," Ron said sagely, turning her head back around so that they were gazing eye-to-eye only by way of the mirror. "In this case, at least. Tell him how you feel, tell him why you feel that way, and work things from there. Just don't expect any miracles.

"Fuck talking to him," Ginny growled. "I want to punch him in the gut!" She smacked her fist against her opposite palm for savage emphasis.

"You can do that, too," Ron agreed, barely managing not to grin at the mental image. He finished the braid and tied it off. "Whatever you think will get the message across the best. Just keep in mind that he's still my best friend, and I want him back in one piece."

"Huh," Ginny said listlessly. "Best friend."

"But you're my little sister," Ron promised her, giving her a light kiss on the head. "And you'll always be my favorite."

Ginny managed a small smile as she felt her braid. "You know, Ron, you've changed a lot."

Ron chuckled. "So I've heard."

"I mean, for the better," Ginny clarified. "For the lot better."

"Yes, I've heard that one, too."

He gave her a hug, and she buried her face in his chest, miserable about so many things and mad at so many people. Her distant boyfriend was doing a nude scene in a miserable play with her erstwhile friend, and she saw no way to repair her relationship with either. Yet for one thing she was glad: Ron was her brother, and he was the best a girl could ever hope for. And that was a relationship, regardless of the circumstances, that would never end.

A/N: Sorry about the slight delay. My beta actually sent this back to me four or five days ago, but we've been switching computers around in my home, and the one with my email acquired a parental block that wouldn't let me download the file off the computer, so I wasn't able to make the changes to the chapter until now. The good news is that Chapter 13 is also beta'd and will be posted within the next three days.

Speaking of Chapter 13, it's called... well, no, I'll keep it a secret. Let's just say something happens in it that I've been hinting towards ever since you read the summary for this story. I know, it's evil of me not to tell you even the name, but you'll find out in a few days. Never fear, my sweets!

Oh, and I answer all my reviews, so... get to it!