Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: Originally written for the HP ficathon, July 1st.
Thank you to my beta, HPalto87.

In the Moonlight

Luna always has this dazed expression on her face, and I'm never quite sure what to make of it. I know she cares for me, but sometimes she just seems so lost in her own little world that I forget that. She's always got a book in hand, and can often be found just staring into space.

"You know, the moon isn't as bright as usual lately," she says, gazing intently out of the window above my bed.

I've been with plenty of guys (much to my brothers' disapproval), but none of them can compare to Luna. Maybe it's because boys are simple, and I just don't understand her. I want to, though. I want to understand how her amazing mind and body work.

"The fairies must be sad."

I wonder what the fairies have to do with the moon, but decide not to question it. With Luna, it is often better to let comments like that slide. There's no point in arguing with her, as her logic just doesn't make sense.

"What do you think, Ginny?"

"I think the moonlight makes you look beautiful," I reply, avoiding the question she's really asking.

Luna smiles dreamily. I take her current book from her hands. It's an ornately bound book of folklore.

"What is this for?" I ask.

"Research," she replies. I place the book aside, deciding that like the moon comment, it's best not to question her. I don't understand, and I doubt her explanation will shed any light onto the subject.

I am infatuated with her. I may even love Luna, but I don't suppose I can rightly say that until I can get a bit more insight into her mind. I lean toward her and kiss her lightly. Her lips are full and welcoming, and the feel, the smell of her is intoxicating.

Luna leans forward eagerly to deepen the kiss. She places her thin hands on either side of my face, then pulls back far enough to smile at me. She lowers her head, and her hair falls in ribbons around her face. I love her hair. It is soft and silky with just the right amount of curl. She giggles as I push it behind her ears, and looks up at me through her long eyelashes.

I push her back so she is lying on the bed and plant a chaste but passionate kiss on her waiting lips. Luna wraps her arms around me, clawing at my shirt. I let her pull it off, then unclasp my bra. She makes a trail of kisses from my lips to my collarbone to my breasts, pausing to suck on the nipples. I moan softly and slip a hand beneath her shirt to fondle her own breasts. She pauses to allow me to remove her clothes, and finish removing my own. I lay down beside her, letting her touch me, run her hands up and down my body. Her fingers feel like fire igniting my skin. I spread my legs, allowing her to explore further.

Her fingers feel amazing inside of me, her palm pressing unrelentingly in just the right spot. I reach over to give her the same satisfaction. She is practically on top of me now, and I can feel her skin brushing against mine. We soon fall into a rhythm, and we are both fast approaching orgasm.

She reaches it before me. I feel her muscles tighten and she lets out a cry of pleasure. She throws her head back, and her hair spreads on the pillow in thick, silky ribbons. The sight of her in such a passionate and vulnerable state pushes me to a similar ecstasy, and afterwards we collapse on the bed together, breathing hard.

I run my fingers through her hair and kiss her. The moon highlights her face, and I feel an overwhelming urge to tell her I love her.

Do I?

She answers the question for me.

"Love you, Ginny," she says sleepily.

Yes, I do.

"Love you too, Luna."