An Interruption of Sanity

Chapter One: Headquarters

Luna Lovegood sat at the table in the basement kitchen playing poker, a Muggle game taught to them by Arthur. The players in this game were all novices: Ron, George, Neville, and Luna. Hermione watched them play, her head resting on Ron's shoulder. Luna had noticed that they had become increasingly close since the Department of Mysteries. She had recovered quite well from her injuries, something that Ron was eternally grateful of.

George chewed thoughtfully on the end of a straw. "Call," he finally said. He tossed in enough chips to make the pot even and revealed his hand. He had a three of a kind. The others groaned as they showed their pairs and runts. Except Luna, she smiled slightly and proved her own hand. It was a full house. George tossed his cards down and swore as Luna grinned and collected her chips.

"Ready to lose again, Georgie-boy?" she asked playfully as she dealt another hand. The door to the kitchen opened and they young gamblers looked over to see Remus Lupin followed by a young wizard that Luna did not recognize. He was clad as a Muggle, plain dark green t-shirt and jeans. The t-shirt was slightly small, so that it fit tightly around his muscled upper arms and torso. He had a broad smile and stylish spectacles. Luna felt something she never had felt for anyone before: desire.

And that was the exact moment that she realized it was Harry that she was ogling.

"Hi, everybody!" he said brightly. Those sitting around the table stared. "Well, don't everybody get up a once." George broke the silence.

"Something's different about you," he said, mock-thoughtfully, as if trying to distinguish the answer. "Did you get a hair cut?"

"Naw, that's it," said Ron, also being facetious. "He got new specs."

"Ron, I really did get new glasses," Harry told his best mate.

"Oh..." Harry looked around again.

"Now that the shock has worn off, I'll start again: Hi, everybody!" George leaped up and rushed Harry, seizing his hand and pumping it up and down.

"Harry!" he cried as if there had been no verbal exchange just seconds before. "So good to see you! How've you been?" By this time, Ron and Hermione had gotten up to embrace their friend. After a few moments of hugs and greetings, they finally made their way back to the table and sat down.

"Hello, Harry," Luna said, speaking for the first time since Harry had entered. He looked up with a faintly shy smile on his face.

"Hi, Luna," he responded, blushing slightly, a fact that did no go unnoticed by Remus, who was leaning back in his chair at the far end of the table, pretending to read the paper. She held his gaze for a moment that seemed an eternity, staring into the unfathomable depths of his emerald eyes. She saw past the façade of cheer and for a moment, he allowed her to see into his heart, a once content entity that had been tuned into a sea of sadness, turmoil, and despair. He looked away.

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Later that night, Harry sat in the overlarge armchair facing the fire in what, until recently, had been Sirius Black's bedroom. He stared into the incinerating logs, wishing that he had remembered the mirror sooner. He pulled out the two-way mirror that Sirius had given him, instructing Harry to use it if he ever had needed to talk to him. The cracks had long since mended. In a fit of anger, Harry threw it against the wall, breaking it once again. He relapsed into silence.

There was a soft tap at the door.

"It's open," Harry grunted. Expecting to see Remus come and reminisce about Sirius, he was surprised when he realized that it was none other than Luna Lovegood. For some reason, he felt his stomach do a back-flip, a sensation that he normally associated with the presence of Cho Chang. His mouth went dry. "Oh," he managed to croak. "Hi, Luna."

"Hi," she said quietly. They were quiet. "Have I come a bad time?" she asked after a moment.

"No, no, it's all right. Please sit down." Harry indicated the several other chairs around the fire in the cavernous bedroom. Instead, she sat in the same armchair as Harry, snuggling close and resting her head on his shoulder. Harry felt as if his cerebellum had just fused. He put his arm tentatively around her shoulder and felt her relax into him.

"You are trying to be someone else," she said after a moment. Harry said nothing. She sat up at him and turned his face toward her. "You do not want to be the Boy Who Lived anymore. You don't want this." She ran her fingers lightly over his scar. "It comes at too high a price. It has cost you friends, your parents, and your godfather. You don't want to be Harry Potter. You don't want the press, the hero worship, or anything. You want to be Just Harry." He just stared at her. She was so amazing. She was so intelligent, so perceptive. Harry realized that, in some respects, she was smarter than Hermione.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked softly.

"Because I want you to know that that's not how everyone thinks of you. Because some people see that you are kind and caring and funny and selfless. Because some people see you as a person, not some mythic symbol or miraculous savior. Because, to some people, you already are Just Harry."

"Who?" he demanded. "Who on this godforsaken rock ever thinks of me, of my well being, before telling me that it's my bloody destiny to go off an vanquish some great evil sorcerer? Tell me, who?" She smiled gently.

"Me," Luna said simply. Harry was quiet. "You're trying to be someone else. Don't." She got up to leave. "Goodnight, Harry." She walked towards the door. Harry stopped her.

"Wait." She did. Harry stood up and faced her. "Please, stay. Just, don't leave me." She hesitated, but finally smiled.

"Okay."

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The Next Morning

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Harry awoke with Luna asleep in his arms. She was so beautiful when she slept. She stirred and yawned, opening her bright blue eyes.

"Good morning," she murmured softly, smiling up at him. They had talked for a long time before finally drifting off in each others' embrace. Harry had learned a lot about her past. Her mother, a talented spell-writer, had died when Luna was nine. Luna's father, Emmit, had been torn apart by the incident, spending days at a time shut up in his room, curled up on the bed and not moving. Luna herself had become a very unhappy person for a couple of years until her father took her on a hunt for the Great American Jackalope. That was about the time that Emmit got a job with The Quibbler and their lives at last began to take a turn up.

"'Morning," he replied. They were quiet for a moment until they heard a loud 'ahem' from behind them. It was Ginny.

"Mum told me to wake everyone," she informed them shortly. "And to tell them that breakfast will be ready shortly." She turned on her heel and stalked away.

"What was that all about?" Harry wondered aloud.

"She still fancies you," Luna said softly. He turned toward her with raised eyebrows.

"I thought she fancied Dean Thomas."

"She does. She started going out with other boys when she realized that you cared for her like a sister. But she doesn't see you as another brother."

"Ah. Aha."

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I'll see you down at breakfast." She started to leave, but then turned back and gave Harry a quick kiss on the check, and headed out.

Harry changed and went down to kitchen a few minutes later. Fred and George were already there with Ginny and Ron. Molly walked out just as he walked in, saying something about an urgent owl. As he sat down, Harry noticed that Fred, George, and Ron were doing their best to keep from laughing.

"Sleep well, Harry?" Fred asked, grinning.

"Of course he did, Fred, he had company," Ron said, also grinning.

"Well, in that case, dear brothers," George began. "There wasn't much sleeping at all." The three Weasley boys erupted in laughter. Harry glanced at Ginny, and realized that she must have told them how she had found Harry and Luna. Ginny quickly excused herself. Harry turned to the other three and laughed a bit as well.

"All right, all right, that's enough," he told them. "Nothing happened." Ron nodded and continued with his meal, but Fred and George persisted in making jokes about Harry and Luna. Harry tried to keep calm, telling them things like "that's enough" or "cut it out, nothing happened" and even George cut it out. Then Fred had the brilliant bad judgment to say:

"Don't you think that Mr. Lovegood would be upset about you getting Loony all sexed up and possibly pregnant?" George and Ron stared between Harry and Fred as they could see Harry's blood pressure jack up a few notches. Fred laughed and laughed until Harry's fist connected with his face and sent him flying back ten feet. Fred hopped to his feet and squared off with Harry.

"Okay, scar-head, you asked for it." he jumped at Harry, who dodged him and nailed him in the back of his head as he passed. Fred fell again and landed flat on the floor. He got up again and rammed Harry into the opposite wall, knocking the china cabinet to pieces. Harry whirled around and kneed Fred in the gut before punching him in the face twice. Fred dropped to his knees and spat out a mouthful of blood and teeth. Harry dragged him back into a standing position by his hair. Fred hauled back and punched Harry in the face, breaking his nose and spraying blood everywhere.

Hermione and Luna entered the kitchen to see Fred and Harry in the middle of a knock-down-drag-out fight. Hermione left immediately to get someone to resolve the mess.

"Harry, NO!" screamed Luna, but she went unheeded. "George, Ron, do something!" she pleaded. But Ron wasn't going to get between his brother and his best friend and George knew that Harry would kick his ass if he got in the way. Meanwhile, Hermione returned with someone, someone who had the presence of mind to bellow:

"IMPEDIMENTIA!" Harry and a damn near unconscious Fred were ripped apart by the powerful spell. Harry immediately leapt to his feet, ready to pummel the senses out of anything that twitched, but halted his vanguard when he faced the person who had shouted the incantation.

It was Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His normally friendly blue eyes were blazing. But it was not anger that shone from them, it was disappointment.

"Professor--" Harry began. But Dumbledore stopped him. He spoke quietly.

"Harry, I'm sure you have a perfectly logical reason for beating the stuffing out of one of your most loyal friends and trashing one of the few habitable rooms in your house, but at the moment, I do not care to here it." He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Harry. "Your nose is bleeding. Miss Lovegood, could you help Mr. Weasley tend to his twin while I mop up Mr. Potter?" Luna nodded and went to help George. Harry was silent as Dumbledore muttered first aid spells to speed the healing and sooth the pain.

Then both Luna and George screamed in fright and surprise. Everyone looked over at them.

"Headmaster, you'd better come here." Dumbledore did, as did everyone else in the room.

Fred, it appeared, wasn't Fred at all. His hair was lengthening and turning blond, his face sharpening and his height shrinking, morphing him into none other than Draco Malfoy.

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