Drifting

Title: Drifting
Author: jazzyjello
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. I'm not making a profit.
Challenge: First kiss.
Summary: Luna had always paid attention to Ron. She doesn't know what to do when he starts looking back.
Rating: PG
Author Notes: Thanks to grimmy23 for the speedy beta.
Warnings: Fluff, fluff and more FLUFF.

Luna Lovegood was lying in the tall grass and thinking about death.

Death was the sort of word that gave people the chills, yet she wondered if death really was as bad as it seemed. Maybe 'death' should be more like the word 'ice cream' – should make you happy and expectant when you hear its coming.

Maybe death was like getting a shot from the mediwizard. The shot hurt a bit but afterwards you got a lollypop to make up for it. The lollypop would be, of course, heaven.

Her father's voice drifted to her from nowhere. "Never forget your mother," he had said. "Spend some time thinking about her every day."

Luna sometimes forgot to remember, but she wasn't forgetting today. She squinted up at the clear blue sky as though hoping to see heaven through it.

She supposed that Mum would be in a field of sunflowers, wearing a long, flowing white dress. Heaven would be filled with laughter...

Luna realized with a jolt that she didn't remember what her mum's laugh sounded like. Her eyes widened and she searched her memory frantically. No, she had to remember, her mum had laughed all the time...

She clenched her teeth, willing herself to remember, but it was no use. How could she have let this happen?

She closed her eyes, trying to imagine what it might sound like.

"AAAAARRGHHH!"

Luna looked up to see Ronald Weasley nearly on top of her. He backed up quickly.

"LUNA!" he shouted, looking very shaken.

"Hello Ronald," said Luna, sitting up.

"Luna, I almost stepped on you! You could've been hurt –"

"Well, you didn't. I'm fine." Luna smiled.

"What are you doing down there anyway?!" he demanded.

"Nothing," Luna said honestly.

"No one can see you down there. The grass is too tall!" he went on angrily.

"I know. I like it that way."

He narrowed his eyes, but didn't speak.

"Would you like to join me?"

"Er – I don't -"

"The ground is nice and warm," she said soothingly. She fell backwards so she was lying down again.

He thought for a second, then sat down hesitantly next to her.

"Luna," he said suddenly, staring, "you've been crying."

"No I haven't." Luna touched her cheeks and was surprised to find that they were wet. She dried her eyes off quickly.

Ron looked away, rather embarrassed.

"You have to lie down to enjoy it properly," Luna said sharply.

"Oh, alright," he said resignedly, lying down next to her.

Luna took a deep breath and smelled the end-of-summer air – the dying grass and leaves, the smell of autumn coming. A wind rippled through the grass.

"The sky's boring," Ron complained from his spot next to her. "Usually you look at the sky to make shapes with the clouds and stuff – "

"The sky's beautiful," Luna sighed, staring into the infinite blueness again.

"Right," said Ron faintly.

Mum had always looked at the sky. It was like her crystal ball, her way of predicting how good the day would be like, as though the goodness of the day depended solely on the sky. But the thing was, most of the time her mum had been right.

Luna smiled; out of the corner of her eye she could tell that Ron kept glancing at her, as though checking to make sure that he was lying-on-the-ground-doing-nothing properly.

This was so nice, she thought, just lying here. Everything felt so simple and pure and good like this.

A line from a Beatles song came to her, and she said it out loud: "'One thing I can tell you is you got to be free'."

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"My mum liked Muggle songs," Luna explained.

"Oh," said Ron uncomfortably. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" Luna asked, puzzled.

Ron mumbled something incoherent and trailed off.

They were silent for ten minutes after that. Luna wondered what Ron was thinking. He was probably having philosophical thoughts too, she figured. How could you not?

"'S a nice day," Ron said sleepily.

Luna laughed.

~*~

Luna sat on her bed in the dormitory, her feet propped up on the window, doodling on a bit of spare parchment. She liked to doodle, especially in the margins of papers and notes.

This had gotten her in trouble with Professor McGonagall a week ago. Luna had turned in an in-class essay that probably had more doodles than essay, and McGonagall had asked to see her after class.

"Miss Lovegood!" she had said in that stern, condescending voice, looking down her nose, holding up Luna's essay. "This is not acceptable work! You and I both know that you're a very intelligent girl and you are capable of much better. You must learn to use your intelligence. It is a gift. You need to stay focused…"

Luna had stared at McGonagall, stared at the wrinkles on her face and the gray in her hair, and wondered what it would be like to get old. She couldn't imagine it. It sounded quite awful. She wouldn't like to be old and alone like McGonagall.

It was then that Luna promised herself she'd marry someone who would outlive her.

Professor McGonagall had wrapped up her lecture by then. "Well?" she looked at Luna expectantly.

Luna had nodded. "You're right, Professor. I'll try harder next time."

She hadn't.

Now, Luna stopped to survey her art critically. It was a Blibbering Humdinger, drawn from her dad's description of them. He was blue. He had big eyes and large antennae and a round, fat body, with four short legs. But he had long, pretty wings that hummed when he flew – that was where the 'hum' in the name came from. From his mouth, Luna drew a speech bubble, and filled it with made-up symbols and words.

The dormitory door flew open, causing Luna to jump, and her dorm mates piled in and dumped their stuff on their beds.

"Whatcha doing, Luna?" Samantha asked her in a fake, sugarcoated voice.

Luna shrugged. "Just doodling."

Her doodle was wrenched from her hands before she could do anything. "Ooh, pretty," Alice said, eyeing it greedily. "What is it?"

Luna sat up straighter. "A Blibbering Humdinger."

There was laughter around the room.

"And what's it saying? Looks like nonsense to me."

"It is nonsense," said Luna. "He's blibbering – you know, rambling away without making any sense whatsoever, spit flying out of its mouth. He doesn't ever stop. See, look, he doesn't even have ears. He doesn't know how to listen. All he does is talk, talk, talk."

"Oh."

"Can I have it back now?"

The doodle was thrown back at her, crumbled up. Luna smoothed it out carefully.

~*~

Luna lay in bed and wondered, not for the first time, what it'd be like to kiss Ronald Weasley. She longed to be that close to a living, breathing human being; she never told anyone, but she was terribly lonely. Ron would be warm, she supposed, and his heart would be beating fast, and his mouth would be soft. He'd be gentle, maybe. She bet that it'd be really nice. She drifted off to sleep contentedly.

~*~

"What's that?" Michael Corner had rounded on Luna in the hallway and was pointing at her.

Everyone nearby turned to watch.

Luna looked down at the large wooden horn hanging around her neck, just checking that it was still there. She was fiercely proud of it.

"It's a horn. It sounds the mating call of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. My dad carved it himself so we can catch them."

"You dad is a liar."

The students around her started to whisper.

"No he isn't," said Luna indignantly. "I saw him start making it for me, saw him cut down the tree and everything. It took months to perfect it, to get the sound exactly right – "

"I meant that he lies about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks," he snarled. "And pretty much everything."

Luna straightened up. "My father doesn't lie," she said loudly. "His main concern is telling the truth. That's why he started the Quibbler, because he thought people deserved to know the truth, unlike the Daily Prophet which – "

Several people were laughing at this. Luna blinked rapidly.

"I heard your dad's a drunk," Michael went on, ignoring her. "I heard he lost it when your mum died –"

Luna tuned him out like she was lowering the volume of the radio when it played a song she didn't like. She stared at him, wondering why he had so much anger, wondering how he could be so abysmally wrong, wondering if maybe his dad didn't love him as much as Luna's loved her – wondering why his nose was so abnormally large.

"Are you even listening?" the boy demanded.

"No," said Luna. "You've got a big nose."

He stared at her, flabbergasted.

At that point, Professor Flitwick conveniently walked by. Michael knew better than to continue with a teacher nearby. He and his friends each gave her one last look before turning around and stalking off.

Luna watched them disappear down the hall.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Ron.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, looking concerned.

"Yes," she said. She hadn't known he had seen. She wished he hadn't.

"Are you sure?" he asked, staring after Michael. "He was saying really nasty things about you and your family. I was tempted to punch him, he'd deserve it. I knew I hated him when Ginny – "

Luna shrugged. "I've gotten used to it." That wasn't completely true. It still hurt. It still kept her up at night, crying. She was just able to take it looking more composed now.

Ron blinked. "But how? Every time someone dares insult my family I get so mad I can hardly see –"

"I dunno," said Luna, watching him. His eyes were blue and they reminded her of the sky. "We're rather different, Ronald."

"Yeah," he said, uncomfortably, taking his hand off her shoulder.

"I think that there's dark spirits roam about that whisper mean thoughts into people's heads. That's why people can be so cruel. Don't you think so too?"

"Er - yeah," he repeated, not really sounding convinced.

"Don't you have a class to be at?"

Ron looked at his watch, cursed, and hurried away.

Luna smiled for hours afterward.

~*~

Dear Daddy,

Thank you so much for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack horn. I love it. It's so beautiful. All the other students are envious of it. Sometimes if they're lucky I let them hold it, but I won't let them blow it, of course. If only we would have had this when we were in Sweden!

I drew a picture of a Blibbering Humdinger and I thought you'd like it – I don't know how it got so wrinkled. You did say they had antennae, didn't you?

Classes are doing great.

Don't get too lonely without me.

Love,

Luna

~*~

Hermione had once told Luna in exasperation, "Luna, you're like a balloon filled with helium. You're always floating away, and you need something heavy to keep you down."

Luna liked to imagine she was a balloon from then on, drifting about, looking down at the world, quietly observing it.

~*~

Luna was washing her hands in the washroom, listening to the other girls fuss and gossip around her without a second glance in her direction.

"Did you hear that band the Boomslangs broke up?"

"No! You're kidding!"

"They must've – in the posters on my wall they're all not looking at each other and leaving the picture –"

"There was something in the Daily Prophet too."

"That's terrible. Why did they?"

"Who knows?"

"Wait for me, Marsha, I have to reapply my make-up…"

Luna wrinkled her nose. She could hear her dad's voice saying, "Don't ever use make-up, Luna. It will destroy your natural beauty."

"I heard that Jack might go solo."

"My hair doesn't like me today. Does anyone have a comb?"

"He should. He's by far the best looking. Those dreamy eyes, that hair..."

"I hate my hair!"

"I want a picture of just him. I heard he's got a six-pack –"

"Oh god, I've got a bit of ketchup on my sleeve and it's not coming out."

"Don't wet it, it'll be more obvious."

"Crap. Do you think anyone will notice it?!"

Luna closed her eyes, irritated, and concentrated on the soap in between her fingers and ignoring the girls. She was relieved when most of them walked out. It suddenly occurred to her how most girls seemed to be alike – shallow, obsessed with unimportant things, desperately trying to fit in, rather self-centered…

She was glad that she was different from them, even if that did mean she'd never fit in properly. She didn't want to conform to society.

The other girls were like Blibbering Humdingers sometimes – what they said was meaningless. And they never bothered to really listen to each other.

Luna was suddenly sad about the state of the world.

She blinked when the sink started to overflow, and realized she had been washing her hands for a good 20 minutes. She shut off the water and went out of the washroom, ignoring the usual stares from the other girls.

~*~

Luna was always on the lookout for Ron in the halls, and he was pretty easy to spot with his flaming red hair, so she would watch him as he passed her with Harry and Hermione on his way to classes.

Now-a-days, though, she was surprised to find Ron looking back most of the time.

She'd smile at him, or say "Hello, Ronald", and his ears would turn red and he'd mutter hello back, and then her stomach would flip and her palms would get sweaty.

She found herself staring up at the ceiling at night, helplessly, for hours, thinking about Ron. It was a feeling she was unfamiliar with, almost an ache, and it made her unsure.

She didn't know what to do now that Ron was looking back.

~*~

One evening she ran into him, quite literally, and she grabbed his sleeve to keep from falling down. "Hello, Ronald," she said automatically.

"Luna!" he said, looking quite bewildered. "I've been seeing you everywhere lately." It was almost a question.

Luna smiled and began to sing very softly, "It's a small school after all..."

Ron laughed at this. "I think I'm going mad," he mumbled.

"People call me mad," she confessed.

He looked at her, his ears turning red, as though he hadn't realized he'd said that out loud. "Yes," he agreed. "What happened to your – your horn?"

"Oh," said Luna, "Filch threatened to confiscate it, so I took it off."

Ron stared. "Why?"

"He said that it was too distracting to the other students."

Ron looked like he was trying to figure out whether to laugh or not. "Is that - legal?"

"I don't know," Luna said, shrugging. She stared up at him and he looked back.

And for a minute, Luna took in his freckles and his hair falling over his eyes. She contemplated what it'd be like if Ron were to suddenly push her against the wall and snog her. She wished that he would.

He didn't.

He cleared his throat. "Why weren't you at dinner?"

It took a second to find her voice again. "Well, I fell asleep while I was doing my homework in my dormitory, and I missed it."

"Didn't your friends wake you up?" he demanded.

"You mean my dorm mates?" she asked, blinking. "No, they didn't."

"Oh," said Ron, looking suddenly angry, glaring at the wall.

Luna watched him for a minute. Then he looked at her again.

"Are you hungry?" he said, quite kindly.

"Yes."

"I know where the kitchens are. C'mon."

He set off down the hall, and Luna, curious, hurried to catch up with him.

~*~

"Here," said Ron, stopping at a painting of a silver bowl of fruit.

Luna looked at it expectantly. She could hear a great deal of noise coming from the other side.

"You have to tickle the pear." Ron grinned.

Luna saw that he was serious, and so she stuck out her finger and tickled the pear uncertainly. The pear began to squirm and laugh, and Luna laughed along with it. She was almost disappointed when it turned into a handle, but then remembered how hungry she was.

Ron turned the handle and opened up the door. Luna stared inside.

"After you," he said with a grin.

~*~

It was later. Luna had had a long conversation with the House Elves about the dangers of nargles, and Ron had made sure that she was thoroughly fed, though not eating much himself. They had left the kitchens and went back down the corridor to the entrance hall.

They were lingering.

Specifically, he was lingering.

"I should walk you back to your dormitory," he was explaining, stopping for a moment in a hallway. "It's after hours, but I'm a prefect, so I could get you out of trouble."

"Alright." She stared at him, rather entranced.

He backed into a wall, nearly tripping over a suit of armor. "You - you're so direct, Luna," he said shakily.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"The way you look at people – at me – Bloody hell –" His whole face was red. It was awfully cute.

"I'm sorry, Ronald," she said, without trying to look away.

"No, don't be – listen, Luna," he said abruptly. "Do you suppose I could –"

She thought he had a nice jaw line, and a perfectly irresistible neck.

"Luna? Are you paying attention?"

"Yes," she said. "I always pay attention to you."

He tried again, in a rather hoarse voice, as he stared intently at her mouth. "Can I...?"

Luna reached out and put her hand on his chest. She could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage. "Please," she said faintly.

He leaned down and kissed her, there, in the hallway. His mouth was rather clumsy but sure, and his hands pulled her towards him, leaving her perfectly breathless. She kissed him back without a thought.

For once she could exist right here, in the present, not in her imaginings. For once she could focus on Ron's mouth opening against hers, on his hand now tangled in her hair, on how close and comforting and real this was. For once this wasn't someone judging her, or giving her odd looks, or whispering about her behind her back. This was Ronald Weasley, kissing her because he wanted to, and there was nothing in the world more heavenly than that.

Fin.

Thanks for reading! :)