Disclaimer: Nothing related to the HP universe belongs to me.
A/N: Here it is, folks, the epilogue. -looks at the number of chapters and smiles- It's been a long way, but, -wipes a tear- I did it! I finish my first fic! -pats self on the back-
hollyg20: -blushes- Thanks! I am glad you like the story.
Plum Blossoms: I hope you're feeling better, and thanks!
Kat: Aww, don't cry. -hands over hankie-
snidgetandco: Thanks! I think Ron and Luna makes a lovely couple too!
bleedingheart666: Ow, please don't cry. -hands over another hankie-
Yav aka Shibs: Thanks!
Vulcaine7: Thanks!
Sit back, and enjoy... the final entry in Luna's diary.
Final Entry:
"Are you sure-"
"Shhh!"
I swallowed indignantly, but dared not huff aloud. Narrowing my eyes, I tried my best to follow. It was extremely hard to see, let alone follow, him in the dark, his navy blue robes blending in perfectly with the night. I cursed silently at the thin mist that had descended Cornwall tonight, effectively obstructing any light the stars might provide.
On the other hand, this may be the precise reason why Ron chose tonight.
"Ron?" I whispered, suddenly finding myself alone. The shadows were pressing in from all directions now, and it was... unnerving, to say the least. Urgently I called his name again and looked around in hopes of catching a glimpse of his dull rusty hair in the shade. "Where are you?"
Suddenly a hand grabbed my wrist, and before I could cry out another hand clamped itself tightly around my mouth. I panicked and swung my elbow.
"Ooof!" I heard a muffled yelp and relaxed. Ron released me but did not let go of my hand. Firmly but not harshly he led me to a corner, and with another tug pulled me through the wall.
"Okay, you can breathe now," he said, his eyes the only thing I could see in the dark, and they were gleaming with amusement. "The guard would not hear us in here."
"How'd you do that?"
"Well, there are things that only Aurors are entitled to know," he shrugged. "Besides, nothing a good meal can't buy. My dueling coach told me about this entrance a few days ago over dinner."
"You bribed your coach to get us in here?"
"With those Firewhiskey swimming in his system, it's fairly easy to get him to talk," he said, and we started to walk on the damp grass. "He wouldn't remember a thing... let's not talk about my coach on a date."
We treaded slowly across the pitch. I turned around gradually, taking in the view in front of me: the flat pitch seemed to extend in all directions forever, the goal posts loomed on both ends, and the stands that surrounded the pitch, normally filled with heat and noises, were reduced to shadows against the black sky. The world was still.
"You like it?" He placed his hands on my shoulders, breaking my awed silence. His sound brushed past the back of my ear.
"Yeah," I nodded, leaning back into him.
He traced a line of kisses down my neck, and stopped abruptly. I bit my lip, and asked, "What's wrong?"
"If I don't stop, you'll never be able to see what I've prepared," he said, breathing heavily. I smiled furtively at the knowledge of having the power to make him lose control.
"Close your eyes," he instructed. I fluttered my eyelids shut and heard him muttering a spell. The warmth of magic passed by me, and I ached to open my eyes. Seeming to notice my eagerness, Ron chuckled and cast another spell.
"Can I look now?"
"Not yet... there. You can look."
I needed not be told twice. Snapping open my eyes, the sight before me took my breath away. Thousands of specks of colors were suspended above the pitch, like snowflakes, like stars. In the middle of the lawn was a spread-out cloth, and on it sat a wicker basket.
"This is..." I was speechless for a moment, then exhaled slowly. "...magnificent, Ron."
He smiled in what seemed to be satisfaction, and picked up my hand. "Reckon you'd like the fireflies. C'mon." He led us across the pitch and sat down on the blue cloth on the ground. As I folded my legs beneath me, I looked up to the deep sky at the stars. The magical fireflies blinked around me, tricking me for a minute to believe that I was floating in the heavens. A winter breeze passed by, rafting the smell of dew and grass. Somewhere at the far corner of the stadium, a cricket chirped.
Ron reached into the basket and took out a bottle and two tall wineglasses. Then carefully he poured the golden liquid into the glasses. As the liquor hit the glass, I thought the sound was almost musical. He handed one glass to me.
"We don't have flowers or candles, but we do have some champagne."
I lifted my eyebrow in mock surprise. "You remember what I said?"
"Please, I was in love with you back then."
"Already?"
"You're the most oblivious person I've ever met, Luna."
"Ditto to that, Ron."
And we toasted to the two most oblivious persons walking on Earth. A few glasses of the drink later, I found myself sitting comfortably in his lap, his broad stature effectively blocking out the chill. I sighed in content.
He shoved something into my hands. I looked down and saw a pair of flurry white earmuffs. I did not see where he had been hiding them.
"Merry belated Christmas," he said into my ears. I turned quickly, pushing his fervent lips away from my earlobes. He grunted.
"Earmuffs?"
"They're the only thing you tried on in Gladwags that I found attractive." He shrugged. "You don't like them?"
"They're adorable... but earmuffs? Earmuffs turn you on?"
"Not exactly, but I can't find a nice necklace and Hermione said it was too early to give you a ring."
"But haven't you already given me a Christmas gift?" I pointed at the faithful quill writing away on the page. "I think the Quick Quotes Quill is very practical."
He moaned at the quill. "I brought you that in the hope that you might pay more attention to me rather than your blasted journal. But that quill is proving to be just as disturbing, so I'm giving you another Christmas present."
"What about the quill, then?"
"That I'm going to snap in half," he grinned maliciously.
"That's horrible!"
"Not half as much as that infernal scratching on paper." He frowned, a rare expression for him to wear on his beautiful face. "It's really a fool of me to ever ask you to start a diary."
"I told you it was a bad idea," I pointed out. "But I've grown to love it. This journal, in its own way, has brought us together."
"Now that it has fulfilled its purpose of existence, can we get rid of it?" He asked hopefully.
"No!" I exclaimed, "How am I supposed to keep record of... of these wonderful things that are happening to me? What if I forget one day?"
"In that case..."
He pulled me close, one hand holding my head and the other my hand, and pressed his hot lips against mine, tenderly, passionately marking me his own.
"I'll have to remind you often," he whispered when the searing kiss ended.
Our eyes locked, and feelings, long-forgotten feelings, swirled in the depth of my stomach. I did not fully understand what it was, not yet, but there was one thing that I was certain.
"I care about you, Ron. Very, very much."
"That'll suffice for the time-being," he chuckled, before planting another avid reminder on my lips.
Finis
A/N: -cries- Oh, that is like a child growing up and leaving me!
Thank you all for being with me, reviewing and reading along, thanks for your praises and advices, and thanks for the cookies and cherries I've received. A quick note about the Quick Quotes Quill, I always think it is by some kind of magic connected to the mind of its owner, so that what its owner thinks it will write down immediately. In other words, I think the awful voice Rita Skeeter's quill writes in belongs to herself. Won't it be handy for us writers to have one of those quills? I don't know what to do with all the flea-ridden, rabies-infected plot-bunnies jumping and biting around in my room. I guess that means I will have to go and pick one of them up and move on. Thanks once again for reading! I love you!