Summer at the Burrow

Harry closed the door behind him and flopped down heavily on the side of the bed. He was tired. No, more than tired, actually. More like drained, really. Not so much physically as emotionally, though that fact made it no less debilitating. He looked around the room at the various posters of the Chudley Cannons up on the walls, grateful for this moment of solitude after hours of feigning hardiness to his hosts.

Though he was tremendously fond of the Weasleys, Harry hadn't been looking forward to spending his last few weeks of summer holidays at the Burrow this year. All the attention, coddling and adulation he was receiving was having the very opposite effect of its original intent, though such was Harry's affection for the crimson_haired family that he'd forced himself to smile dully and play along as best as his exhausted psyche allowed, which was to say, not much.

For the first time since he'd begun attending Hogwarts, Harry found himself wishing he'd stayed cooped up with the Dursleys for the entire summer, dour and unpleasant as they were. It wasn't that he didn't want to see the Weasleys, far from it, but having spent countless hours staring at his bedroom ceiling at Privet Drive had allowed Harry to reflect and to think certain things through.

He'd made no mention of it to anyone, of course, but he was now quite convinced that, far from being the object of everyone's salvation from the Dark Lord, Harry might instead be the very instrument of their demise. Unwillingly so, of course, but this would hardly matter in the end. So long as he was here, at the Burrow, his friends were in danger. He knew this, allowing it to become his overriding obsession during the summer. His being here might well result in their sharing Sirius' fate, and Harry knew he could not bear such a loss again.

Sirius...

It had been his fault that Sirius had been taken from him...and he feared, more than anything in the world, that it would also be his fault when his friends were taken from him, too...

But then, they'd been so adamant about getting him away from the Dursleys that he'd been unable to make up a plausible excuse without revealing his innermost fears, which he knew would only lead to more arguments. And he was so tired of arguing...they wouldn't leave him alone, even now...

He dropped his head onto the pillow, one leg stretched out atop the bedsheets while the other hung lazily over the side. He ran the back of his hand across his forehead and sighed. What else could he do? Ron and Hermione had obviously seen though Harry's facade and had both offered to be his sounding board, but Harry knew full well no one could help him now. He would travel this road alone from now on.

One day, perhaps...he might return. But if he did, he'd return as a murderer. The Prophecy had made that unavoidable. Dumbledore had made that unavoidable.

He sighed.

He might have asked to go to Grimmauld Place instead, though the place now held such painful memories that he doubted he could spend a night there without going mad. He'd had enough nightmares about Sirius dying over and over, sometimes by Harry's own hand, causing him no end of restless nights.

No, in the end he'd finally agreed to come to the Burrow for the simple reason that he was just too tired to argue any longer.

And it had been difficult to acquiesce, and not just because of Mrs. Weasley's motherly coddling, which only served to make Harry stiffen uncomfortably. Rather, it was having to look them all in the eyes and seeing the obliviousness in their faces...they just didn't realize the danger they were in, and all because of him.

Harry had found it especially hard to talk with Ron and Hermione of late. Conversations with them had taken place with Harry staring at his feet, his hands, the walls, anything but his friends' faces. He knew it was possible that Voldemort might still be capable of seeing the world through Harry's eyes, and he was determined to avoid revealing his closeness to his friends, lest it provoke a strike against those whom he loved more than anything in the world.

He tried to console himself that the distance he was putting between them might one day be undone; once he'd completed his Occlumency lessons, Voldemort would no longer be able to use him as his tool.

And yet, he had mixed feelings. Occlumency...he was truly dreading the lessons now. The knowledge that Dumbledore would be tutoring him sent his stomach into knots. He wasn't at all sure if he would ever be able to forgive the old Headmaster, and the possibility of him reaching into Harry's mind was not at all agreeable.

Harry closed his eyes and let the busy sounds of the Burrow drift up to him. He heard the bevelled doors clatter shut downstairs, followed almost immediately by laughter and voiced greetings. Another member of the Weasley clan had just arrived from the sounds of it, though from up in Ron's room it was difficult to guess exactly which, the voices intermingling themselves in a muted jumble. But they, at least, still had family...

Harry could hear the birds outside chirping happily through the open window much more clearly than the people downstairs. Harry was envious; those birds were well and truly free, quite unlike himself. They could spend their lives as they saw fit, and not have it mapped out before them, knowing they dare not deviate, no matter how badly they wished to.

No, they could sing away, quite contentedly, without a care in the world beyond finding the next worm sticking out of the ground. They didn't even have to deliver owl post, to boot. Harry wished he could be perched out their with them right now...he tried to imagine...his world faded to black...

"Harry?"

He jerked awake. From the angle of the sun's rays shining through the window above his head, he guessed is was now late afternoon; he must have dozed off for a few hours at least.

"Hey mate," Harry heard Ron's voice intone from near the door, though he kept his gaze firmly rivetted to the ceiling. "Watcha doing up here? You're not planning on sleeping through the next two weeks, are you?"

"No," replied Harry glumly. "I was just tired, that's all."

There was a brief, awkward silence. Harry could sense his friend was having difficulty interpreting Harry's persisting melancholy. He felt a twinge of guilt at not being able to tell Ron why he really didn't want to be here. One day, he would understand...

"Um...sure, all right," said Ron hesitantly. "Well, you better not fall asleep again, Mum's getting dinner ready."

Harry sighed, a bit louder than he intended. Sitting at the table with the whole Weasley clan fussing over him was not something he was relishing. Still, he couldn't avoid it. He still had to eat, and besides, Molly Weasley might mistake his absence as dissatisfaction with her cooking, or even come up here herself and give him another hug.

"Yeah, okay, thanks," said Harry. "I'll be down in a bit."

Harry didn't move, instead listened carefully as he heard Ron slowly close the bedroom door. Harry loathed being so aloof with his friend, but until he could complete his Occlumency training at Hogwarts, he had to keep a certain distance.

He chanced a glance at the door. Ron was gone.

He took a deep breath as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Well, there was nothing for it; he'd have to go down and mingle, like it or not. Maybe the sheer number of people would keep Voldemort off-balance, from zeroing in that these were both his closest friends and most cherished people in his life.

He shuffled his feet lethargically across the small bedroom and opened the door.

He'd just stepped out onto the tiny landing when he noticed someone dragging a large trunk up the narrow, twisting staircase towards him. He stopped and stared at the figure in confusion until he suddenly recognized the conspicuously lengthy mane of dishevelled, sand_coloured hair.

"Luna?" he said. "What are you doing here?"

The Ravenclaw pulled her trunk up a few more steps before she drew herself up before Harry, gazing at him with those large, slightly disconcerting silver eyes. She was wearing a plain, light blue pinafore over a horrendously clashing ochre blouse, underscored, as if it wasn't enough, by a long sage skirt lined with dozens of dangling acorns and rounded out by a very worn pair of brown carpet slippers. Her butterbeer cap necklace was still resolutely in place, though her radish earrings had been replaced by two tiny feathers, one a striking shade of blue and the other a rather dull orange. Harry nearly guffawed at the sight; he was no expert on fashion, but he knew such colours were never meant to appear on one person all at once.

"Hello Harry," she said dreamily, brushing a few straggling locks of hair from her face. "Ginny invited me, actually."

Harry blinked. "Um, no, that's not what I meant," he amended. He'd been more startled than anything, as no one had made mention of Luna's visit, so far as he could recall.

In actual fact, though surprised by her appearance, he found he was genuinely pleased to see Luna. Their parting conversation at the end of the previous semester had lingered in his thoughts throughout the summer, not only because of the glimmer of hope he'd allowed himself to see in her words, but also the unexpected realization that things were far from rosy in Luna's world. And not to mention the rather odd letter he'd received from her soon after the end of the semester, which had necessitated his sneaking into Dudley's room to consult the dictionary. "That came out wrong. I just meant I didn't know you were coming. Did you just get in?"

Luna nodded. "Yes," she said, indicating her old battered trunk with a wave of her hand. "I didn't know I was coming either until yesterday, actually, but Ginny was quite insistent."

"Yeah, they wouldn't take no for an answer with me, either," said Harry. "But, um...it's...I'm glad she asked you."

Luna smiled. "Well thank you, Harry," she said serenely. "That's sweet. How was your summer?"

"Oh, it was - " Harry was about to say 'okay' as the reflex response that he'd always given anyone who asked, but for some reason he felt he didn't have to pretend with Luna. " - well, pretty rotten, to tell you the truth. But then it pretty much always is, if you know the Dursleys. But they weren't as bad as other years, so I guess I shouldn't complain too much. How about you, did you find any of those Snork_thingies in Switzerland?"

Luna shook her head. "Sweden, actually," she said, "and they're called Crumple_Horned Snorkacks. But no, we didn't. But we did catalogue some tracks and even managed to collect a few hair samples, so Daddy said we'll go back next year. We'll do better, now that we have a better idea of the area and habitat."

Her eyes widened suddenly. "Would you like to see it?" she asked eagerly. "I've got one right here - "

Harry jumped back as Luna excitedly heaved the trunk up to the landing, narrowly missing his toes. She flipped open the lid and rummaged through the old chest, Harry leaning over to peer inside curiously. What had Luna meant by 'it', exactly?

She fished out a tiny wooden box and held it up before her before proceeding to open it carefully, her fingers reaching daintily inside and withdrawing -

- nothing. Or at least, nothing that Harry could see.

"Er..."

Luna put the box back in her trunk and straightened up, pinching her fingers together just inches apart from each other, as though holding a thread between them.

"See?" she said breathlessly. Harry squinted but could see nothing but Luna's fingers. Might she be making it all up? Luna believed in some pretty outrageous things, it was true, but Harry never thought it was to the point of self_delusion.

"I...um..." Harry hesitated. He didn't want to sound like he didn't believe her, but -

"Can't you see it?" she asked, as though sensing his doubts. But before Harry could even respond, she stepped closer to him and brought her hands right up to his face. Harry could finally discern a thin, wispy brown strand held between her fingers, though his attention was quickly drawn to the large, mesmerizing silver eyes just beyond. She was standing so close -

He swallowed. "Um, yeah," he managed to blurt out, "there it is, all right..."

"Just think, Harry," she said with obvious enthusiasm, moving the strand so close that it blurred out of focus, making his vision focus entirely on those huge, luminous eyes, "this came from an actual Snorkack! Can you imagine?"

"Yeah," said Harry dully. "Who would've thought..."

Harry didn't know if his imagination was playing tricks on him or not, but had Luna moved even closer?

At this proximity he was struck by the misty kaleidoscope that was Luna's eyes; they were strangely beguiling...it was almost as though they could see right into him...Harry could see a myriad hues of silver and pearl, seeming to almost glow with a life all their own...

Wow...

"It's exciting, isn't it?" said Luna, abruptly breaking Harry's near trance and serenely drawing back, carefully putting the wispy filament back into its tiny container. Harry blinked repeatedly, surprised to find himself wishing the strange moment hadn't ended quite so quickly.

"Um, yeah," he said thickly, shaking his head vigorously to regain his bearings.

"No?" said Luna, tilting her head slightly as she gazed at him in apparent confusion.

"No - I meant yes," amended Harry. "Sorry, I was just clearing my head - "

Luna smiled. "Well, that's an odd way of doing it, but if it works..."

Harry cleared his throat and pointed to the battered old trunk. "Did you show that, er, evidence to Hermione?"

Luna nodded sadly. "Yes," she said solemnly, "but she said it was inconclusive, actually."

Harry allowed himself a small smile. "Well, that's too bad," he said. "Don't give up, though. You'll find them one day, they can't keep hiding forever."

Though Harry had intended it in jest, Luna evidently took him at his word. "Oh, surely they can't," she said eagerly. "People are always finding clues, after all. Daddy says at the rate research is proceeding that it's only a matter of time."

Harry nodded in agreement, a bit confused as to how to respond to her unexpectedly serious concurrence with his 'joke'. He wondered why Luna placed so much faith and put so much energy in something so, well, ludicrous.

She was standing perfectly still, staring at him expectantly.

"What?"

Luna tilted her head. "I can't get by with you standing there," she said, pointing to her trunk. "I have to bring it upstairs. It is a quite narrow staircase, isn't it?"

"Eh? What - oh!" Harry looked around and realized he was blocking the staircase leading up to the top two floors.

"Here," he said, grabbing hold of one of the trunk's handles, "I'll give you a hand with that."

"Oh, that's all right," said Luna, smiling. "I'll manage. It's not so heavy as it looks, really."

"No, I insist," countered Harry determinedly, the memory of Luna pinning up her list of missing things still vivid in his mind. "Grab your end. It's another two flights up to Ginny's room, that's where you're going, right?"

Luna stared at him blankly for several long moments. "Well...yes," she said slowly, an uncertain expression crossing her pale features. "But...well, all right..."

"What's wrong?" asked Harry. He was getting a bit concerned, not accustomed to seeing her so hesitant.

"Well, it's bad luck climbing stairs backwards, you know," she said conversationally. "Don't forget what happened to Xavier Bunglethorne."

Harry did a double_take. "Eh? Who?"

Luna smiled. "You know, 'One_Eye' Bunglethorne. When he was helping his wife carry up that armoire up the staircase in Castle Urquhart, remember?"

"Um...not really..."

Luna slowly shook her head in disbelief. "Well," she said finally, "he became known as 'One_Eye' right after that. You wouldn't want to be known as 'One_Eye' Potter, would you?"

Harry chuckled, the first sign of real mirth he'd uttered in weeks. "Don't worry," he assured her, "I'll be careful. We'll take it nice and slow."

Luna nodded reluctantly and carefully took hold of the other handle. Harry noticed the trunk was, indeed, not so heavy as he'd expected it to be. Still, it was large enough to be cumbersome, and he was determined not to let Luna drag it all the way up by herself.

"Why do you use such a big trunk, anyway?" he asked as he carefully backed up the first step. "It's not even half full by the weight of it - didn't you get your stuff back last year??"

"Oh yes, most of it," answered Luna serenely. "But it's Mum's old trunk, and I am rather fond of it. Besides, it wouldn't make much sense to go out and get an entirely new trunk when I have a perfectly serviceable one right here, would it?"

"No, I guess not," agreed Harry, carefully shuffling up the stairs.

They slowly made their way up the awkward staircase, Harry stumbling backwards, several times bumping his back into the many irregularly_shaped bannisters. Luna took to warning Harry as they went, with decidedly mixed results.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Harry after hitting his elbow against a particularly stiff corner. "I thought you said left!"

"Oops," said Luna, "I meant my left, which would be your right, then, wouldn't it? Sorry..." Harry noticed her voice betrayed more than a hint of amusement -

"What are you laughing at?" accused Harry, struggling to suppress a grin.

"Oh, nothing," answered Luna, conspicuously staring down at the trunk before her. Harry knew exactly what she was finding so amusing, yet far from being affronted he was finding it increasingly difficult to avoid laughing himself.

"OW!!"

"Oops...the other right..."

By the time they'd reached Ginny's room, after countless bumps and bruises which Harry had the distinct impression Luna had deliberately directed him into, there was no longer the slightest possibility suppressing anything.

The moment they reached the topmost landing they released the trunk as one, Luna dropping to her knees and clutching her sides as she let go a burst of laughter, with Harry falling backwards against the closed door, sliding all the way down to the floor as his legs gave out from under him.

"Okay," he said in between gasps of breath, "next time...you go first!"

Luna rocked back and forth, her infectious airy laughter filling the air. She looked at Harry with huge misty eyes swimming in tears.

"Oh...that...was...awful!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

"Yeah," relied Harry, struggling to get words out coherently through the chortling, "especially...as I'm the one...who's got all the bruises!"

Luna put her hands over her mouth, her watery eyes widening. "Oh, that was terrible of me," she said, her apologetic words mixed in with contagious giggles. "I do hope you're not severely injured, Harry - "

Harry shook his head, and as he looked at Luna, a sensation that had been all to infrequent of late came over him...he was actually enjoying himself, for the first time in months, and, for a few moments at least, all thoughts of Voldemort and the Prophecy had evaporated from his consciousness.

"Luna," he said at last when he'd managed to regain the ability to speak reasonably fluidly, "I..."

He trailed off. He didn't even know what he'd meant to say. The terrible weight of the last few months had lifted ever so slightly from his shoulders -

"Harry?" said Luna, tilting her head slightly.

He took a deep breath. "I just...thanks," he said finally, "I...I needed that..."

Luna smiled, her expression suddenly serene. "I know," she said softly.

Harry blinked. Of all the people he could find solace in, he'd never expected it to be Luna Lovegood. And yet, he didn't feel the reluctance to talk to her as he'd experienced with virtually everyone of late. She was sitting there, looking at him quietly...and she just seemed to...know.

Harry opened his mouth just as a bellow from downstairs made its way up the winding staircase.

"What are you two doing up there?" called up Ginny. "Will you hurry it up? We're all waiting, Mum won't let us eat till everyone's at the table! Come on!"

Luna smiled at Harry and drew herself up, quickly dropping off her chest in Ginny's bedroom which Harry noted had been rearranged slightly to make room for a third makeshift bed.

"Does Hermione know you're all going to bunkmates?" asked Harry as they descended the stairs into the cluttered family room.

"Hmm? Oh, yes," said Luna, pausing in her dreamy humming of 'Weasley is our king', "Ginny said it would be good for her, though I'm not quite sure what she meant by that..."

Harry smiled as they emerged outside, making their way along the narrow path through the garden to the long table the Weasleys had set up for dinner.

"Well if it isn't Sleepyhead!" called out Fred from the back of the house, helping his mother carry in the last of the casseroles to the table.

"Thought you'd gone into hibernation there, Harry!" said George from his place at the near side of the table.

"Actually, a little nap seems to have done you good," added Mr. Weasley from his place at the head of the table. "Got some colour back in your cheeks there, Harry."

Harry dropped down on the bench between Ron and Charlie, while Luna drifted off to the other side, coming face to face with Fred, who'd just dropped off the last casserole and was heading back down to join his brother at the end of the table.

"Hello Frederick," she said dreamily, "I didn't see you when I came in."

"Hi there," said Fred, smiling. "I'm George, though, actually. Fred's sitting overe there, see?"

"No, you're Frederick," said Luna matter_of_factly, tilting her head curiously. "Why are you fibbing?"

Fred looked momentarily nonplussed. "Eh? I...um...well because...it's light out. Yeah, there you go."

Luna frowned. "Well, that doesn't sound like a very good reason," she said high_mindedly. "It stays light out quite late at this time of year, you know."

With that, she turned from the befuddled twin and squeezed herself onto the bench between Ginny and Hermione, whom Harry noted could not have had more differing reactions.

Ginny, who'd been quietly giggling at the conversation going on behind her, immediately threw an arm around Luna's neck and hugged the girl warmly, whilst Hermione in contrast stiffened visibly and rolled her eyes. Fred, meanwhile, looked to George at the far end of the table with a slightly helpless and bewildered expression before joining his twin. Harry couldn't recall ever seeing the Weasley twins so flatfooted. But then, he doubted they'd ever met anyone quite like Luna.

"Can we eat now?" blurted out Ron impatiently, "I'm starving!"

"Yes, yes, everyone's here," said Molly, looking around the table briefly before pointing her wand towards the kitchen. "Accio plates!"

A stack of dishes came flying out of the open window, hovering momentarily before each person at the table to drop off a plate, quickly followed by an assortment of knives, forks and spoons, rounded out by about a dozen goblets which dropped themselves onto the table with a collective clunk.

"Tuck in, everyone," said Mr. Weasley, reaching for the bowl of egg salad before him.

They all started partaking in the myriad foodstuffs scattered about the table as Mrs. Weasley sent a large pitcher around with a flick of her wand, explaining to a curious Hermione that it was a particularly successful batch of her seasonal currant wine, to which the Gryffindor Prefect quickly acquiesced. Upon the pitcher moving over to Luna, however, the young Ravenclaw declined the proffered drink by turning her goblet upside down.

"None for me, but thank you," she said serenely. "I don't react very well to wine."

"Oh, but you must drink something, dear," insisted Molly. "What about some fresh apple cider? No? How about some pumpkin juice? Or raspberry coulis? Or maybe some wild cherry juice __ "

The goblet was flipped back up. "That sounds nice," said Luna. "Cherries help spur the imagination, you know."

"Like she needs it," whispered Ron to Harry, as he grabbed a drumstick from the basket before them.

Luna looked up from her filling goblet and stared at Ron.

"Oh, cripes," he muttered under his breath, "here we go..."

"I didn't know you were allergic to wine," commented Ginny while dropping some crab patties onto her plate.

"Oh, I'm not allergic," answered Luna while keeping her unbinking gaze fixed upon Ron, who'd taken to staring intently into his plate as he ate, the tips of his ears reddening. "I only tried it once, but Daddy said it made me behave rather oddly..."

Hermione opened her mouth and seemed about to say something, but after a moment's hesitation seemed to change her mind with some difficulty, sighing instead and dissecting some sole cutlets in her plate.

Harry thought he glimpsed Fred and George glance at each other ever so briefly. He wondered if twins had some way of subconscious communication __ no words had been uttered, yet he had the definite impression that they'd exchanged some subtle understanding. Fred dropped his spoon on the ground and bent over to pick it up.

George coughed loudly, making Ron jump.

"Blimey, aren't you on edge!" laughed Charlie, "What's wrong, little bro?"

"Nuttin'," muttered Ron darkly, his ears turning redder than ever.

"Yeah, right," said Charlie, clearly amused by his younger brother's discomfort. He turned to his father at the head of the table. "Where's Bill by the way? Wasn't he supposed to be here by now?"

Mr. Weasley nodded and swallowed his salad before answering. "Had a stopover in France," he said. "Helping his girlfriend pick up a few things before coming over, and all that. He said he'd be here by tomorrow evening."

"Oy," said Charlie, "that's that Fleur girl, right? Can't wait to get a look at her...part Veela, isn't she?"

"Yeh," said Ron, "strange when you think about it though, isn't it? Part_Veela...how weird is that?"

"Well I think a mixed heritage is quite lovely," announced Luna. "It gives a rather unique insight, doesn't it?"

"Eh...if you say so," said Ron in confusion, glancing across the table at Hermione, who Harry noticed had abruptly stopped spooning up her soup for a moment, a pensive frown on her face.

The dinner proceeded well enough, Harry being quietly thankful that no one had brought up the subject of Sirius or Voldemort, or anything even remotely related to the recent events at the Ministry. In fact, the normal topics of conversation were being studiously avoided, instead focusing on the current standings in the British Quidditch League, the difficulties inherent in dragon training, and the favorite habitats of the Crumple_Horned Snorkack, to name but a few. Harry had been surprised to hear that Ginny had decided to relinquish her position as Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team; though she stated her preference for the Chaser's position, Harry had the distinct impression she was doing this for his benefit. Of course, she'd already told him that the previous semester, but that was before...well, before a lot of things. In truth, Harry for the first time in five years did not look forwards to the new Quidditch season. In fact, he hadn't thought about it all summer, and truth be told, he really didn't know if he would want to ever return to the sport which had brought him so much enjoyment in the past. His heart, unlike other years, just wasn't in it. But he muttered a muted thanks at the table...this wasn't the time to discuss his misgivings.

"Ohh, a cumquat," said Luna some time later as she gazed at Harry.

Harry blinked and glanced down at his plate. He wasn't sure what a cumquat looked like, but he was fairly certain he hadn't picked one from the myriad foodstuffs scattered around the table; he could readily identify everything before him.

"Eh? Mum, we got cumquats?" asked Ron, looking around the table.

"No, we don't," answered Molly. "Unless...Charlie, did you bring - "

"No, not me," answered the elder Weasley brother, as he too had taken to scanning the table for the elusive fruit.

Harry looked back up at Luna. She was staring quite intently at him, not his plate.

"Where did you see it?" he asked.

Luna's eyes widened precipitously.

"What?"

"It spoke," said Luna, sounding strangely awe_struck. She leaned close to Ginny. "Did you hear that? There's some rather peculiar magic going on, Ginny - "

"Hey, it's me!" said Harry, as everyone had by now abandoned their cumquat search to stare curiously at Luna. "It's Harry!"

Luna looked at him uncertainly. "Oh...well, hello, Harry," she said carefully. She leaned closer to Ginny and whispered so loudly that she might as well have been speaking normally: "Did you hear? He's been polymorphed...he doesn't seem aware of it though..."

Ginny looked to Harry then back to Luna. "What are you talking about?"

"So," interrupted Charlie, "Luna, right? I guess you're in Ginny's year, then?"

Luna turned her silvery gaze upon him, as though only noticing him for the first time.

"Hello," she said.

"Er...hi..."

"Yeah, she is," replied Ginny, looking at her friend with concern. "Luna, you all right?"

The young Ravenclaw nodded, her unwavering gaze fixed on Charlie.

Harry glanced down at the end of the table where Fred and George were watching Luna surreptitiously. Down at the opposite end, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were observing the strange discussion with blank expressions, both having seemingly forgotten their food_strewn dishes.

"So...you're in Gryffindor too, then, I assume?" asked Charlie, his subtle shifting and body language betraying the tiniest signs of discomfort under Luna's intense gaze. Luckily for him his ears weren't prone to reddening as were his brother's.

Luna straightened up and assumed a highly dignified pose. "I'm in Clavenraw," she said proudly.

"Eh? That's a new one on me..."

Luna frowned and looked down to her plate, opening and closing her mouth as though wanting to say something and losing her train of thought at the last moment.

She finally shrugged and turned to Hermione. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"I wasn't saying anything!" blustered Hermione, looking at Luna out of the corner of her eye as though the Ravenclaw was going quite mad.

Ginny was looking at Luna with growing concern. She reached out and put her hand on the Ravenclaw's forehead.

"I'm fine!" insisted Luna. "Oh, but you do have cold hands, Ginny - you know, if you kept broccoli in your socks - "

"There's no fever," said Ginny, drawing back and looking to her mother helplessly.

Luna snatched up a pickle and began sucking on it lengthwise.

"Luna, are you sure you're feeling all right?" asked Ginny.

"Never better, why?" said Luna as though the question was altogether preposterous. She gazed over at Hermione's plate, grabbed her spoon and dropped a heap of pudding atop Hermione's olives.

"Hey!"

"They were cold," said Luna aimlessly. "By the way, does anyone have any spare yarn? I really do need to make myself a new pair of mittens - "

"Oh that's it! What's gotten into you?!" said Hermione angrily, throwing her napkin on the table and whipping around to face the Ravenclaw.

"Well, Mrs. Weasley's cooking, of course," said Luna, waving a hand at the cluttered table. "By the way, Mrs. Weasley, your pearl onions are exquisite - *hic* - oops...oh, cherries - "

She grabbed her goblet tightly with both hands as was her peculiar habit and proceeded to drink away merrily, her large silver eyes peering out at Harry from over the rim.

"Is she always like that?" whispered Charlie, leaning close and covering his mouth with one hand.

Harry shook his head. Luna was, well, different, certainly, but this was definitely abnormal behaviour even for her.

Ginny snatched the goblet away from her.

"Hey! I wasn't done!" protested Luna as Ginny sniffed the contents of the goblet, her eyes widening.

"This is wine!!" exclaimed Ginny. "How did - "

She snapped her head over to where the twins were sitting at the end of the table.

"You two!!"

It was at that moment that Fred and George finally burst out into hysterics, George hitting his head against the table and Fred falling over backwards into the garden.

Ginny looked furious, though at the moment she had her hands quite full keeping the goblet away from Luna, who was making a determined effort to get it back.

"Gimme!"

"NO!"

Molly Weasley had already risen from her place and had made her way over to the twins, grabbing each by the ear.

"OW!" cried Fred, scrambling up from the ground.

"Cripes, Mother, that smarts!" complained George.

But Molly was unmoved. "IN THE HOUSE!" she barked, her face red with anger as she led the now writhing twins away.

"Give!" said Luna, trying to reach past Ginny, determined to retrieve her goblet. Ginny finally struggled to her feet and climbed up on the bench, holding the goblet as high over her head.

Luna was jumping up repeatedly with arms outstretched, her long hair flouncing excitedly. "Gimme gimme gimme!"

"You've had enough!" exclaimed Ginny, standing on tiptoes to avoid Luna's grasp. "Crickey, Hermione, can you lend a hand - "

"Me??" asked Hermione, looking aghast.

"Oh for - never mind!" snapped Ginny, spinning around and throwing the goblet's contents into the garden. Luna immediately stopped jumping and looked to Ginny in shock.

"You spilled my cherry juice!" she said hurtfully.

Harry heard the door slam in back of the house, quickly followed by some muffled yelling. He was intensely grateful he wasn't one of the Weasley twins at the moment.

"I didn't spill it, I threw it away," flustered Ginny, stepping down from the bench, "and it wasn't cherry juice - "

But Luna was already scanning the table, quickly spotting a pitcher and moving for it.

But Ginny had anticipated correctly, and was able to snatch the pitcher away at the last moment.

"Hey! *Hic* - oops..."

"The only thing you're drinking tonight is coffee!" said Ginny, throwing the pitcher's contents off into the garden as with the goblet before.

"Well, that was rather rude," said Luna. She turned and plopped down abruptly onto the bench, crossed her arms and pouted, staring angrily at her plate, her cheeks flushed. Hermione quietly shifted her plate out of easy reach.

Harry noticed Mr. Weasley's shoulders were trembling slightly as he hid his mouth behind clasped hands.

"Well, I think we should - DAD!" blurted Ginny in frustration. "You're not helping!"

As Mr. Weasley drew off, laughing, to the house to make some coffee, Harry had the distinct impression that this was going to be a decidedly interesting summer, after all...