Left of Logical

22nd December 2001. 6:35pm.
Hogsmeade, Scotland

The view outside of the window was little better than the one inside it.

Outside, little white dots fell effortlessly to a vanilla-colored ground. A few of the small flurries clung to the window but were not at all enough to obscure the view. A colorful parade of figures walked either way, laughing and talking, most firmly attached to the arm of another. One couple, a tall man with flowing blonde hair and his equally yellow-haired girlfriend, stopped almost perfectly in the center. The window seemed to act as a perfect picture frame as the pair shared a soft kiss under the slowly setting sun.

It was a sickening sight to the crowd on the other side. The normally cheery pub always fell into a sort of gloom in the evenings around Christmas time. Few souls choose to spend their time inside. Those that did were often very single. While at any other time of the year this might not have bothered them but even the best of the best could hardly ignore the obvious spirit of Christmas romance that filtered through the air.

One such guest was fond of neither view. His eyes would stray to the window and watch bitterly as happy couples filed past. But looking around the pub gave him a sinking feeling of despair. Some of the other patrons were rather old and he couldn't help but think he'd still be sitting here - alone - once he reached their age. Being alone wasn't so bad - it was the fact that everyone else made a show of not being alone.

It wasn't that he was a depressive person. He was a jealous one. Really... what did all those other blokes have that he didn't? Surely he wasn't that unattractive. Granted, his spicy ginger hair had gotten a little long, curling up at the base of his neck... but it wasn't wild... not at all like Harry's, who ,with his mop of unruly strings, was very much attached. Didn't birds love blue eyes? Because, in his own opinion, he had a very fine pair indeed. Maybe it was his height, he thought. Perhaps he was intimidating. After all, not many people were blessed - or cursed, as it may be - with a six foot four inch frame. Of course, with that came the gangly limbs that, even at the age of twenty-one, still rendered his movements only slightly less awkward than during his teenage years.

After pondering his appearance for a few moments longer, he finally and safely assured himself that it was not the reason. He'd had girlfriends before. Obviously he was attractive. Indeed, there was a rather logical explanation for this quandary that he'd found himself in... yet again. No doubt there was a very pretty bird with a rather straight nose saving herself for the perfect person. Him. Never mind that this was the same thought wave he had used during the previous two lonely winter holidays as well.

He sighed, forcefully contenting himself with that thought, and raising his hand slightly to indicate another Firewhiskey was needed. A few minutes later, the witch placed a fresh bottle down on the table in front of him. He looked up and offered her a half-hearted smile.

"Thanks, darling," he said.

"You look like dragon dung tonight, Ron. This one is on the house... you definately need it. Consider it an early Christmas gift," replied the older lady, a hint of a smirk pulling at her lips.

Ron chuckled, shaking his head at her, the tips of his ears turning slightly red. "Thanks," he replied sarcastically. "I knew I could count on your charming words to cheer me up."

Rosmerta gave him a bit of a wink and walked off to help another customer. For a moment his heart fluttered softly... then he rolled his eyes at himself. He'd always had a bit of a soft spot for the old bird and it had, apparently, never quite gone away. Of course, she was married now and...

His thoughts stopped right where they were. The idea that he had just seriously began to think about what it would be like if she weren't married... he had never really before realized just how pathetic he was. Rosmerta was right. He really did need this bottle. Uncorking it, he lifted it to his lips and chugged down at least ¼ of the bottle within a matter of minutes - completely ignoring the stare of the stranger next to him.

"Won-won!" came a shrill cry from behind him. Ron suddenly choked on the liquid in his mouth and spluttered. This earned him a glare from the same stranger who had been staring at him, apparently having just been partially spat on, but Ron just ignored him. He twisted in his chair slightly to catch a glimpse of one miss Lavender Brown.

Lavender was positively beaming as she came toward Ron. "I haven't seen you in ages! How do I look?" she asked a little too loudly as she strode closer. Several of the patrons had turned their heads in their direction to see what all the commotion was about.

Ron just stared at her. "Utterly ridiculous," he said before even thinking about it. It had been the first thing to come to mind... Honestly! She was standing there from head to toe in a velvet red suit with huge puffy white cuffs around her wrists, ankles, and neck. Lavender even had the hat to match. He wasn't dense... he knew she was dressed up like some fictional muggle character... but that didn't mean it wasn't outlandish.

Lavender, however, appeared not to be offended by his comment in the least. Instead, she leaned over and pinched his cheeks, then patted him on the top of head - all of which made him feel completely belittled. "Don't sound so sour, Ronnikins - it's Christmas!"

Ron sighed and tapped the side of his booze bottle. After a moment he suddenly recalled the fact that Lavender wasn't a bad snog... despite all of her humiliating nicknames. Maybe... just maybe... he could get a little mistletoe action tonight after all. There was nothing wrong with wanting a Christmas kiss was there?

"How's Uranus tonight, Lavender?" he finally asked, giving her a flirtatious smile. Alright... so it was a joke he fell back on every time... but still... it worked. Lavender laughed. Much better a response than when he'd said the same thing to her back when they were but in their third year at school.

"Apparently," she began, and Ron noticed her smirk, "it's seeing a lot more action than yours." Instantly Ron's own grin faded into an embarrassed scowl.

Lavender cooed at him. "Oh Won-won, don't be like that," she said, offering him a bit of a pout. Ron just shook his head. He didn't see why she'd felt the need to lead him on for a moment... actually, yes. Yes he did. She was Lavender Brown... it was like second nature to her. He should have known better, really.

"I'd love to snog you, Won-won," she went on, apparently feeling the need to explain herself. "but--" She didn't have to finish.

A brown-haired man walked up behind her, grabbing her hand in his. "Eggnog to go," he whispered in her ear, apparently unaware of the fact that she had been in the middle of a conversation. Lavender turned her head slightly, nipping the tip of his nose with her tongue, before settling into his hold and looking back at Ron.

"Won-won, you remember Michael Corner, don't you?" she asked.

"He dated Ginny," Ron stated with a shrug... Suddenly he looked up sharply at the pair. Lavender was dating Corner? A weird sort of feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. It wasn't that he was interested in her again parse... but the odd realization that his and his sister's exes were now together was somewhat disturbing. Wasn't there some saying about you having kissed anyone your partner has? Disgusting. It never really occurred to Ron that at least he had had his turn with Lavender before she'd kissed Corner.

He was glad when the two left and he was again alone with his Firewhiskey. Looking as his watch, he noticed that a little over an hour had passed. It was nearing eight-thirty. As sad as it was, Ron was starting to get sleepy, and not strictly because of the affects of alcohol. His social life as of late had been quite lacking... so he'd never survived passed the hour of ten. He'd often make it into bed by nine-fifteen, if he was lucky. He supposed he ought to finish up his bottle and head on home. A nice cozy warm bath with the recent copy of Quidditch Queens (a magazine dedicated to the all-female team, Holyhead Harpies) would make an alright ending to an otherwise miserable day. He never thought he'd want to go to work - that was Hermione's thing - but often during the holidays he'd had that feeling. It was really too bad that his boss always made him take leave, despite his protests. He was told every year that they didn't need many Obliviators on duty during the holidays...which Ron always thought was rather suspicious. After all, English wizards were not particularly well known for keeping their alcohol at reasonable limits when celebrating. He'd heard plenty of horror stories over the years about drunk wizards pulling stupid stunts in front of Muggles.

Just as he was about to tip the last of his whiskey into his mouth, Ron noticed a strange ringing sound come from behind him. He turned in his seat and his eyes immediately dropped to the reason for the noise. A pair of bells. Not just any bells, mind you, but a pair of bells fixed to a pair of oddly designed shoes. Bright purple shoes. Bright purple shoes with a very nasty shade of lime-green polka-dots. The shoes narrowed as they went down. What would have been the toe was a very thin piece of cloth curled up like a swirly. Attached to those shoes was a finely constructed pair of legs. Their only flaw, Ron thought, was that they were too pale. A little sun wouldn't hurt. Of course, eventually the legs were lost about knee-height into a skirt that was equally bizarre looking as the shoes. It was a green and red plaid skirt... with a row of bottle caps fixed to the hem. A green turtleneck was tucked tightly into the skirt. A reindeer danced across the front of it. Finally Ron noticed the familiar face that belonged to the odd wardrobe.

It was none other than Luna Lovegood.

He decided that her appearance should not honestly surprise him. The fact that she had very nice legs, however... was a shock, indeed. But, as he reflected, he'd never actually really seen them before. So he supposed it was unfair of him assume it should come as a surprise.

"Happy Hanukah, Ronald," she said cheerfully enough - though the statement struck him as odd somehow.

"'Evening, Luna," he replied, glad that there were very few people to witness him talking to such a strangely dressed female. Why hadn't he finished his whiskey sooner? "I was just about to leave..." he said, hoping she would get the hint.

She did not. Or if she did, she simply did not care. Luna sat herself down in the chair next to him. Ron wondered why the evening was turning out to be such a ridiculous one. Why him of all people? First Lavender and her insistence on calling him "Won-won" and now he had the most bizarre witch in all of the United Kingdom sitting at his table. It wasn't that he didn't like Luna - she could be interesting enough at times - it was that he'd already been embarrassed enough for one night... and he was going to be late with an appointment with his pillow if he didn't hurry along.

"I just got back from chasing Kordinks," she offered. "It's really cold outside and they seem to think so too... they borrowed my cloak."

Ron lifted his eyebrows. Upon closer inspection he noticed that she was shivering slightly. It hadn't occurred to him when he'd first seen her that she wasn't wearing a coat against the cold. He had no idea, however, what Kordinks were... and he wasn't sure he was in the mood to find out. "Really?" he said, trying hard not to sound bored.

Luna nodded enthusiastically. "My pa and I went on a trip for a few days. We found some while we were gone. We thought it would be fun to have one for a pet so we brought some home. They live in the backyard now and I thought I would go play with them for a while. I wouldn't want them to feel lonely or unloved."

Ron stared. Obviously he was not the person she should be having this conversation with. Hagrid was a much better candidate when it came to love for... creatures. "That was... err... thoughtful of you, I guess." A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Why are you here, Luna?" Although he hadn't really seen too much of her since the war had ended, he never really knew her to be in a pub, even one such as The Three Broomsticks, without some ulterior excuse. There were no Order meetings anymore. There hadn't been for two years now.

Luna blinked at him. He saw a very tiny frown on her mouth as her brow furrowed slightly. "Why? Am I not supposed to be here?" she asked innocently. She peered around the room, apparently looking for something. "I don't see a sign that says I can't come in..." she trailed off and looked back up Ron, blinking once more.

"No," said Ron a little too sharply. "That wasn't what I meant. Of course you can be here." He sounded exasperated. "It's just... I haven't really seen you here before." He regretted asking now. It was just prolonging a chat that should have never really begun. He needed to get back to his flat.

"Oh," she said, looking dazed as she normally did. "Well..." here she lowered her voice. "I just bought a Sneak-o-scope for my pa... it's his Christmas gift. He found out they are blessed with the ability to see the future. I know he wants to use one to find out when our toad will turn into a prince. I've already kissed Sir Knight three times," Luna confided, with an unnerving amount of conviction.

Ron, on the other hand, couldn't decide which idea sounded most insane - fortune-telling Sneak-o-Scopes (which Ron knew from experience were worthless- the one he had once given Harry never worked properly) or that they were waiting for a toad to become a prince. Then again, the fact that a toad was getting more kisses than him was slightly disturbing. "I see..." he said... clearly not really seeing at all.

"I also bought a game," Luna added then bit her lip. "But I'll need someone to play it with me..." She looked at him, a mixture of curiosity and hope on her face.

Ron wished he could just melt into his chair and disappear. He was in no mood to be playing games, especially considering that Luna had probably bought some ridiculous one he'd never heard of. No doubt, if he agreed, he'd find himself in a very bizarre situation. To his own horror, instead of politely refusing, he heard himself ask, "What game?"

Obviously delighted at his interest, Luna clapped her hands together once. "Pin the tale on the dragon," she said happily.

When Luna was in the room, staring was something one did often. He couldn't believe his ears. It WAS a game he'd heard of - but he hadn't played that since he was four or five years old! Besides... what fun would it be with only two people? "Luna... I don't think that's such a good idea..." he felt a twinge of guilt for rejecting her game and hastily added a defense, "because there just isn't anywhere in here for it." It was a sound, reasonably logical defense, he decided. The guilt eased.

Luna laughed. "Oh not here, silly Ronald. We can take it to my house."

Nothing - absolutely nothing - had prepared Ron for that horror. His eyes were wide open as he looked at her, hardly believing what he'd heard. There was no way he was going to the Lovegood home just to play pin the tale on the dragon. All sense of guilt for saying no instantly evaporated. Strangely enough, it wasn't just the idea of playing the game with Luna that caused him that reaction. It was the idea of having to endure not one, but two Lovegoods. Luna was a handful enough as it was... Ron didn't think he could currently stomach her equally, or even more wacky, father as well.

Apathetically he began, "I don't think so Luna..." He couldn't think up an excuse and, at this point, didn't really care about offering one.

"Oh, well perhaps another time then?"

"Yeah... perhaps."

The pair lapsed into silence. Ron drank the last of his whiskey. He was finally starting to feel a slight buzz in his head. Madam Rosmerta appeared suddenly by their table, placing down two more Firewhiskeys - one in front of Ron and one in front of Luna.

Ron frowned at her. "I didn't order those," he said objectively, all the while he started opening his. Rosmerta just laughed at him as she moved away. He hardly noticed Luna mimicking his actions. From the way he opened the drink to the way he swigged down the first drink.

Until she spluttered, her face screwing up into a pinch. She placed her own bottle back down and stared at it. "Oh. That tasted like fire!" Ron couldn't help the bemused laugh. Obviously she hadn't had any of this before. Poor lass. It was good for the soul.

"Would you like something else?" he asked between sips of his whiskey.

"Yes. A butterbeer please," she replied, eyeing hers as though it would suddenly strike out her like a coiled snake. Absently she placed a slender hand on her throat, rubbing gently. Maybe it was just the alcohol going to his head, but Ron thought the act was sensually appealing.

Ron forced himself to get up, tearing his eyes away from his blonde counterpart and heading toward the bar where Rosmerta was. "One butterbeer please," he said, moving to lean against it. "And a case of Eggnog... to go." He added as an after thought. After a night like this he was really going to need them. Rosmerta told him she'd get the case ready for when he left and handed him the butterbeer.

"Here, Luna," he said, after he'd sat back down in his chair. He pushed the milder drink towards her, then took her whiskey and placed it in front of him. He finished off his own before starting on what was originally hers.

Ron noticed that he and Luna were the last two customers left, save for a lone older wizard who sat near the door. Still, as they sat in silence sipping on their drinks, for once Ron felt at ease and somewhat comfortable... now less than enthusiastic to be headed home. When Luna wasn't talking about non-existent creatures, her company was almost desirable.

"Maybe..." his voice broke the silence, but sounded thick and forced. He had to think hard about what he was trying to say next. The heavier effects of alcohol were finally starting to weigh in. "Maybe you should come to my flat. We can play there." To his drunken brain, a night of child's play might actually turn out to be better than his usual lonely evening.

Luna clapped her hands together in excitement. "I would love too, Ronald," she beamed. She scrambled up and dashed toward the door of the pub. Ron sat there, puzzled as to where she had gone in such a hurry. Surely she wasn't planning to walk to his flat in this weather? With a shrug, Ron slapped four galleons on the table and stood up, instantly noticing how dizzy he felt. He stood, unmoving, for a few minutes, waiting for the initial reaction to movement to wear off.

Luna came back to the table, a shopping bag in hand. With her free hand she clutched Ron's upper arm. "Are you okay, Ronald?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," he managed to say with obvious difficulty. "Let's move to the fireplace," he added. He wanted to floo home as he didn't think he could manage to apparate right now. Besides, it was illegal anyway... he didn't need an AUI tonight.

Madam Rosmerta came hurrying behind the pair, carrying Ron's case of Eggnog with her. She looked at the pair and grinned at Ron. "Oh Ron, it looks like you've done well for yourself tonight. I was beginning to wonder if you'd make it a tradition to spend every winter holiday alone," she teased as she pushed the case into Ron's arms.

Ron scowled at her a bit, but didn't have the presence of mind to correct her thinking. He was too busy trying to steady the Eggnog in his arms.

"Happy Christmas, Madam!" said Luna.

Luna left go of Ron's arm as she moved forward to grab a pinch of floo powder. "Go ahead Ronald. You should go first." She threw the green dust into the fireplace.

Ron stepped in. He had to concentrate very hard. "Ronald Weasley's flat." he commanded, slowly as he could. He was in no mood to accidentally end up somewhere else. As the whirling sensation took him over, Ron squeezed his eyes shut tightly. A lurching feeling in his stomach arose as the spinning in his head increased. He felt extremely nauseated by the time he had tumbled out of a fireplace. Opening his eyes slowly, he was relieved when the familiar surroundings of his sparsely furnished living room came into view.

He set the Eggnog down on the floor and made a beeline for his couch. His upset stomach could no longer tolerate his standing there. He bent over at his waist, clutching himself with his arms. His head was pounding. It was funny, he thought, although he'd actually brought a friend over this year, he still felt the same as every other year. One day he would stop getting smashed... the consequences were always this bad. He really needed to learn that drinking didn't do anything but make him feel ill.

Luna tumbled out of his fireplace next, landing squarely on her bum. Her long blonde hair was everywhere, covering her face. With a giggle she pushed it back and wiped her hand across her face- leaving a streak of ash on her nose. The picture was oddly endearing to Ron and he might have said something, had he not been worried about throwing up.

Standing up on shaky legs, Ron moved across the room, trying not to stumble. Luckily, he was able to make it to his destination: a small wooden cabinet fixed to the wall. The Weasley family crest was carved in the center. The cabinet had been a gift to Ron on his 19th birthday from Hermione. They'd been dating then...

But now was really not the time to dwell on old memories. Not this Christmas. He opened the door and pulled out a small vial. Inside was a bright red bubbling liquid. He managed to pull the top off, then tilted his head back and drank the entire thing. He stood there, waiting. The pounding in his head increased. It felt like sharp needles stabbing in him everywhere in the brain. He felt himself go cross-eyed with the pain. Seconds later it all evaporated and Ron felt normal. Although the potion ensured that one was no longer drunk, the makers had apparently decided that one needed to pay for their crimes. The pain always increased before it got better.

Luna, who had by now stood up and brushed herself off, stood staring at Ron, her blue eyes wide. She didn't blink. Not once. That stare always made Ron feel uneasy. "Alright, Luna?"

"I was about to ask you the same," she replied simply.

"Yeah... so..." He looked at her bag. Now that he was sober again, he started to wonder why on earth he had invited her over to play pin the tail on the dragon. They were both grown adults. Or, well, they were supposed to be, anyway, Ron thought wryly. He liked to have fun. And said fun was not always what everyone deemed appropriate for his age. That was part of the problem he and Hermione had... she'd always yell at him for not being 'mature'. But she was just too damn serious! Honestly - she'd just never seemed the same after the war. It was like she'd gone back to being that annoying, straight-laced eleven year-old he and Harry had first met. No one could stand her like that. Or, at least, he couldn't.

Luna didn't need anymore of a hint than Ron's staring at her bag. She more than happily opened it up and started digging through it. She pulled out a rolled up poster. Unrolling it revealed a rather angry looking Chinese Fireball. Its eyes moved back and forth, looking between Ron and Luna, as if it wished it could blow fire at them. The picture roared. Luna smiled at it. She found an empty space on his wall and used her wand to fix it there.

"I think he's pretty," she said, admiring the dragon. "We'll call him Humphrey."

Ron didn't really know what to say to that, so he said nothing at all. Luna had always been rather strange so while naming the post might have been odd coming from anyone else... it was perfectly acceptable coming from her.

Luna moved back to her bag and brought out a black piece of cloth - the blindfold. "Do you want to go first, Ronald?"

Ron felt the very tips of his ears flush warm. He was embarrassed to be about to play this... but really - it wasn't like anyone else would know. "Sure," he told her with a nod. He might as well.

Luna approached him, standing up on her tip-toes to try and secure it to his eyes. She couldn't quite reach, however. She frowned slightly. "Why are you so tall?!" she exclaimed.

Ron chuckled. "Apparently Merlin saw it fit that I tower everyone."

"You are a tower," she stated matter of factly.

Ron dropped himself to the floor, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Luna moved behind him and draped the cloth over the front of his face, pulling it tight against his eyes and trying it in the back of his head.

He was surprised at how dark it was. Obviously the cloth had some sort of charm. He honestly couldn't see anything, not even light. He felt Luna's fingers brush up lightly against his arm, the sensation sending a small tingle down his spin. He couldn't help but think about how kinky this would be if the situation were a bit different than it was...

"Here, Ronald," he heard Luna say. She was pressing something soft and felt-like into his hand. "Go!"

"Help me up first," he said, afraid to try getting up himself. Being blinded, he was likely to fall over in the attempt.

Luna wrapped her hands around Ron's arm as he pushed himself up off the floor. He leaned toward her to help steady himself. He felt Luna push him in the back toward the direction of the dragon.

"If I win," said Ron, an idea striking him, "you should make me some cookies." He smirked. He was a genius. He really wanted some soft peanut butter cookies, but was a horrible cook. If he had to play this game, the least he could do was get something out of it! Oh the genius of him!

Luna laughed. "Alright... but... I want a piggy back ride if you loose!"

Ron snorted but agreed. She wasn't going to win anyway. He reached out his hand that held the tail and moved to his left, bending over slightly, he pushed it up against the poster and then let go, backing away as he did so. He felt a surge of triumph, certain that he had placed it correctly. He pulled off his blindfold and looked at the poster.

...the tail was pinned to the dragon's nose.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "That's not fair! It moved!" Indeed, the dragon had moved. He had danced on his page while Ron had tried to pin the tail to the correct spot. The dragon's eyes seemed to be gleaming smugly, staring back at Ron.

Luna giggled, watching Ron become red in the face over the incident. "Silly Ronald... didn't you know they like to be tricky?"

"It's your turn," he said, bitterly. "But I bet you can't get him either."

Luna took the mask from where Ron had dropped it, putting it on her own face this time. Luna reached up high. Ron felt a satisfying feeling rise within him - Luna was reaching in the completely opposite direction. Ha. She wouldn't win either.

But unfortunately for Ron, the dragon did a sort of hand-stand. Ron blinked in disbelief as the tail in Luna's hand landed in the perfect spot. The dragon stared defiantly at Ron. "The dragon cheated!" he said with exasperation.

Luna took her blindfold off, then let out a gleeful squeal. She'd done it! She moved to Ron's side and looked up at him, expectantly.

"Oh all right..." he grumbled, still in disbelief. That wasn't fair! Not at all! He glared at the dragon. How dare it outwit him like that! Oh well, he didn't want to play that stupid game in the first place, anyway. Ron moved to get down onto his knees. Luna clambered onto his back, wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. When she was done, he placed his hands on his coffee table and pushed himself into an up-right position. "Where do you want to go?" It wasn't like there was anywhere to carry her to. They were in his flat for Merlin's sake.

"Give me a tour, Ronald!"

"There isn't much to see..." he said, trailing off.

He took her through the kitchen, poked his head into the bathroom, and opened up a few of his closets before finally come to his bedroom. It was by far the largest room in his house. The walls were painted violently orange and his Canons blankets still graced his bed. Posters of several players from the Harpies hung on the wall amidst the female Chudley ones. An older looking wardrobe sat in the corner of the room, a cracked mirror hanging over it. The floor was cluttered with magazines and trash.

"Well... that's everything," he said, feeling self-conscious at his lack of belongings. He had a little more money now than growing up, but it was still just enough to get by on. The ministry wasn't that great of a payer. He received just an average paycheck.

"You have a lovely place," she said, sounding for all the world as though she truly meant it.

"Errr... thanks."

"You can put me down, now," she said, though it sounded as if she really didn't want to leave her spot. Ron complied, however, carefully maneuvering himself so that she could get off easily. Once Luna's feet were planted firmly back on the ground, Ron took a seat on his bed. Luna jumped up next to him.

"Eggnog?" he offered, remembering his case in the living room.

"I've never had that before... it would be lovely, though, I think."

Ron pulled out his wand. "Accio Eggnog!" There was a whooshing sound and the case came flying into the room, landing in his lap. He took out two bottles and levitated the rest of the case to the ground near his door. He opened up one bottle and handed it to Luna, then fixed up the other for himself.

He watched Luna take a sip. She sipped at it carefully, closing her eyes, as if trying to decide whether or not she liked it.

"Hmm..." she hummed, giggling afterwards. "This is nice."

Ron and Luna went through almost the entire case as they sat there. Each taking turns telling incredibly silly jokes, laughing as they did so. By the time they were nursing the last of the bottles, the familiar buzz Ron often had had settled in on them both. Luna laughed louder than normally and her already wide eyes looked ever bigger. Both of them were slightly red in the face.

"Happy Christmas, Luna," Ron said, chuckling drunkenly.

Luna giggled. "Ronald!"

Ron's eyes were fixed on his friend. In his somewhat drunken state, her ridiculous outfit no longer looked so silly. But what he noticed most was the brightness of her blue eyes. No doubt the extra shine was simply the alcohol she had consumed but he nonetheless found it hard to look away. Before he really knew what he was doing, he felt his arm snake around her waist, pulling her closer to his side. Luna looked at up, surprise clearly registering in her eyes.

"Do you think I'm going to fall?" she asked.

Ron didn't answer her. Instead he bent his head, moving closer to her face.

Her cheeks were already flushed with drink, though she wasn't quite as sloshed as Ron was. An expression of curiosity twisted on her face. "Are you going to kiss me, Ronald?" she asked in the same tone she would have used to ask about the weather. It wasn't an accusation... just a simple question.

Normally he might have been embarrassed by such a blunt thing, but he was really too drunk to care. Instead, he simply paused in his action and seemed to be pondering what she had said. Then with a simple shrug he replied, "Yes Luna... I think I am."

Luna said no more. She just closed her eyes and lifted her chin up a little, waiting. Ron's lips fell upon hers and he kissed her softly at first. He was surprised that she responded so eagerly to him. She'd obviously been kissed before. She knew what she was doing. On some level this surprised Ron and he vaguely wondered who on earth would have wanted to do something like that with her.

Then he realized with a start that... he himself did. Perhaps it wasn't so bizarre that another might as well. But at any rate, that hardly mattered right now. It wasn't some other bloke kissing her right now. It was him - Ronald Weasley.

One of Ron's hands moved up, landing on her back, his knuckles kneading into her gently. As he continued to kiss her, he pushed her back on his bed and slowly pulled her green turtleneck out from her skirt...

~*~

His head was pounding as it often did when he awoke. It was a pounding that he was rather acquainted with. That of a hangover. As he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, he stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom. A poster of Janis Hardening winked down at him, running her hands over her quaffle as she did so.

He moved his right hand up to his head and scratched behind his ear. He was going to move his left... but found that a slight weight was pinning it to the mattress. Turning over on his side, he saw the sleek pale back and blonde hair of a figure next to him.

The previous night came back to him in bits and pieces. He was beside himself with disbelief for a moment, before deciding to just relax... keep it cool. He settled his head back down on the pillow. One thought kept going through his mind.

I slept with Luna Lovegood.

He didn't quite know how he was supposed to feel about this revelation. Regret? Well if that was the case... he felt none. He replayed the evening's events over in his mind. They had definitely been drunk when taking on the endeavor.

He didn't have time, however, to really ponder it further. Luna started to stir. She turned over, now facing him, and wrapped her arms around his stomach. Her skin was warm against his as she cuddled against him. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

"Good morning, Ronald," she said, sounding still sleepy.

"Morning, Luna," he grunted back.

Luna's head drooped on his arm as she fell back to sleep. Ron decided to follow her lead.

~*~

When Ron awoke the second time, his arms were empty. Luna had already gotten up some time before. He noticed that her clothes, however, were still bunched up at the end of his bed. He wondered what she was wearing... then decided it didn't really matter if she was wearing anything at all. However, what he did notice was that he, himself, was wearing something. His rear end also had a dull ache.

Bewildered, he flung his blanket off of his legs.

His face flushed deep crimson. Pulled up around his right thigh was the pair of purple panties that Luna had been wearing. He had no idea how he'd managed to get one leg through them... but there they were. He carefully slipped them off and tossed them over to her pile of clothes. Ron flung his legs over the bed and stood up. The pain in his arse was still persisting. Moving over to his dresser, he reached above it and took down the cracked mirror that hung on the wall over it.

He felt a little silly as he moved it into a position that would allow him to see his butt. Apparently he wasn't the only one who thought it was silly. But unfortunately the site he saw was far more distracting than the giggle than came from the doorway.

"Merlin's balls!" he exclaimed, when he finally found his voice. His eyes were fixated in pure disbelief. "What have I done?!" he added, blinking finally, hoping it would go away. There, in the mirror, reflected back at him was more than just his finely shaped tan behind. In box lettering was the word 'Loona'. He fingered the word. It was in fine black ink and no amount of rubbing removed any of it. Oddly enough, he wasn't so worried about the fact that he didn't even remember when it had been put there... it was the misspelling that was distressing him.

Finally he noticed Luna standing inside the doorframe. She was wearing his Chudley Cannon hoodie. "When did this happen?" he asked, it finally occurring to him that he hadn't remembered getting a tattoo at all.

Luna came closer, to get a look for herself. "Do you think I should use two Os now?" she asked curiously. Ron figured this meant she didn't know either.

"No," he said. "I don't know why it's spelled wrong... or how it got there either."

Luna just shrugged. Ron put the mirror down. Then realized he was standing there completely naked- but he wasn't about to let that get the best of him. He gritted his teeth to try and stop a blush as he moved to his drawer for a clean pair of boxers. After pulling them on, he turned back to Luna. He felt like he should say something... but he had no idea what.

"It's still snowing outside," she said, pointing to the window. Indeed, large white chunks were still falling from the sky.

"It tends to do that during this time of year," he stated, feeling awkward now. He wondered why Luna didn't appear to be feeling strange or weird because of their situation.

"I like your kisses," she said, staring at him.

Ron felt even more uneasy now. She had a way of being blunt that always caught him off guard. "Um... thanks?" he asked, sounding lost and somewhat confused.

He briefly wondered if she was fishing for some kind of commitment from him. She was looking at him expectantly. He really didn't know how he felt though, or what he was supposed to say. Nothing had gone like it was suppose to last night. Certainly finding himself in this awkward position with Luna Lovegood had never been on his list of things to do.

"Maybe we can play pin the tail on the dragon again some time, Ronald. It was a fun game."

"Yeah, maybe." He wondered if she thought all of this was just one big game. Did she not understand what they had done? He had enjoyed himself very much last night, but now he felt at a loss. He didn't know what was expected of him, or what she thought of the whole situation.

Luna said nothing for a few more minuets, and Ron couldn't help but feel as though she were waiting for something still.

"I'm expected for tea soon," she said cheerfully. "I'll look for you at the Three Broomsticks again, Ronald. You go there when you're not busy."

"Okay." He watched as she gathered up her belongings. She slipped on her panties and her pants from last night, but left on his sweater. "Luna... I'm sorry." He finally offered.

She looked at him, puzzled. "Did you do something wrong?" she asked, gazing at him steadily.

He wondered that himself. Had he done something wrong? Apparently Luna didn't think so. "I don't know," he finally admitted.

Luna offered him a gentle smile. "I think you're just left," she said.

"Left?" he repeated, incredulously.
"Well... wrong isn't the only opposite of right," she said simply as if this was the obvious explanation.

In that case, he decided, he was certainly left of logical.

"Good bye, Ronald."

Ron watched as she started to leave his room.

"Hey Luna?" he ventured. She stopped again and turned to look at him. "I like your kisses too."

Luna grinned.