Part 1 – The Separation
1. One Dozen Toadstools
2. A Pint of Pickled Rat Tails
Love is overrated.
Luna stared at the statement she'd just scrawled on the parchment where she had intended to write her shopping list. She started to mark it out and continue on with her day, but the next line came to her and she kept writing.
Well, love is nice I suppose. Like kissing, that's nice too and touching. I always enjoy touching you. But it isn't fair, love. It lingers in my mind, distracting me when I should be working or reading or experimenting. I think it would be easier if you weren't so far away. Then I'd just run down the hall and snog you thoroughly. Then I could head back to what I was doing, satisfied and ready to focus.
Does love distract you? Do you find yourself dreaming of me when you should be stunning a Death Eater? You might get hurt. That is an unpleasant thought. You mustn't let love distract you at work. Put me out of your mind altogether. Save me for when you're home and safe, snuggling up to your pillow. Yes, that is a nicer picture. But be sure to check the bed first for West Nile Eeches. You're in a foreign land and I don't want them nibbling your toes, or any other part of you for that matter.
Are you ever coming home, love? You know, you aren't required to personally catch all of the evil wizards in the world. The other Aurors need to work too.
Eagerly awaiting a mind-clearing snog,
Luna
Without bothering to remove the first two items of her shopping list, Luna rolled the parchment up and headed for the owl-room. At first glance her flat seemed a bit chaotic, parchments lying about on all available surfaces, artefacts cluttering the floor, and a variety of hats perched on open corners and hooks. But Luna moved through the clutter with smooth efficiency. Her owl, a gift from her father, was a Cactus Ferruginous Pygmy. His long exotic tail and docile copper eyes always made Luna smile.
"Artemis, beautiful boy." Luna stroked his head before tying her parchment to his leg. "Take this to Harry."
Artemis stretched regally and fluttered his wings in his usual farewell before taking flight. With a sigh Luna glanced at the clock and realized that she was going to be late again. Unlike most people, upon making this realization, Luna didn't rush from the room grabbing the things she would need for the day. Instead, she went to the kitchen and poured herself another cup of tea. If she was going to be three minutes late no matter what, she might as well enjoy her morning and be an hour late.
A cloud of rancid smelling dust circled around a pair of dirt encrusted wizards. One of them pulled off his glasses, revealing a pair of very clean circles on his otherwise blackened face. "That was close," Harry choked out. "So, do you think the Vampiress is done in?"
"Sweet Merlin, I hope so," Ernie replied. "We've chased that crazy Countess and her undead hoard around the world twice. I need a break."
"I'll second that." As the dust settled, the dawn light began to filter through, and Harry smiled. There was an owl perched on a rock in front of him. The bird's plumage was distinctively spotted, and the purple parchment tied to its leg was unmistakable. "Artemis, come here."
"Isn't that Luna's owl? Well, enjoy your letter but let’s Apparate out of here first, mate. I can't stand the smell of roasting vampire."
Though his hands were practically twitching to open his letter, Harry untied it and pocketed the parchment. He could wait a few more minutes. A letter from Luna shouldn't be read in such unpleasant circumstances, not when comfort was a magical jump away.
Ernie Disapparated first. His hand in his pocket with his letter, Harry closed his eyes and followed suit.
"Lovegood, you'd better have a good explanation for why you're late again! And chasing a lead on some imaginary creature isn't going to cut it this time!"
The Daily Prophet's assistant editor was a small wizard, short and wiry, but he had a resonant voice, Luna thought as his tirade washed over her in a wave. Sighing, she held her hands up. "I have never chased a lead on an imaginary creature. Rare creatures, I chase. This morning I was writing a letter and time got away from me. You know how letters can be. They suck you in and won't let you go."
"They suck you in. They suck you in?!"
Judging by the increasingly red colour of Mr. Boyd's face, he didn't like her answer. Maybe he would fire her? It would be a great relief if he did. Her father had insisted that she get some experience writing at other publications before he would consider her for a position at their family's prestigious paper. He wanted her to cut her teeth in the world before she came home. Well, being fired from the Daily Prophet might be enough world experience for him. "Harry's been abroad for nearly a year now. If it weren't for letters, we wouldn't know each other anymore. When the inspiration strikes me, I have to write."
Like a slowly deflating balloon, Boyd's face gradually returned to a normal fleshy pink. He'd forgotten the reason he couldn't fire Lovegood for a moment there. He wasn't going to be the man who fired the saviour of the wizarding world's current girlfriend. The negative publicity that could be unleashed was not to be considered. "Well for God's sake, try to be on time tomorrow. Get to work."
Quill in hand, Harry scratched at a scroll of stationary from his hotel room. The establishment's name, The Juicy Lemon, was stamped across the top in a bronzed script.
Dear Luna,
Your letter made me smile, but your letters always make me smile. I was crawling out of a noxious cloud of vampire dust when Artemis greeted me, and my spirits rose at the sight of him.
Love is overrated, you say? I must be doing something wrong on my end, because love is everything. Maybe we've been apart too long. You need a good snog to clear your mind, and we really can't have you wandering around with your head in the clouds, at least not any more than usual.
Maybe it's time I came home to visit? Could you work me into your schedule if I came home?
Keeper of the Snogs,
Harry
Rolling the parchment, Harry headed to the wardrobe where Hedwig was resting with her head under her wing. "I'm sorry girl," he said. Harry ran a finger along her wing line delicately, and Hedwig blinked at him sleepily. "I need you to carry this to Luna, but you don't have to fly back. You can wait for me there. We're going home."
Hedwig extended her wings to her full span as though stretching the sleep out and then took flight without even scolding Harry for disturbing her rest. He happened to think she was happy to be going home too.
A brisk knock at his door brought Harry around. "Potter! Are you ready for the debriefing? We have to get this done before sunset," Ernie called.
"Sure." Harry grimaced and tied his robe tighter. Vampire hunting for the ministry had protocols, and the debriefing was his least favourite. "Come on in."
Ernie was wearing a thick terry cloth blue robe. He handed a slip of paper to Harry. Abruptly, Ernie dropped his robe and spread his arms and legs. He smiled at the light blush that rose on Harry's cheeks. "At least your partner isn't a girl, eh?"
"You think I prefer cataloguing your pale nakedness, to a girl's?" Harry asked. He scanned Ernie, checking off each quadrant on his parchment as bite-free. "That's some healthy self esteem you have there."
"We can't all get by on our celebrity. I've been working out. Can't you tell?" Ernie asked.
"I'm trying hard not to look that closely." Scribbling quickly, Harry completed Ernie's bite-form. "Okay, you're clear."
After reclaiming his robe, Ernie turned to Harry with his own form. "Come on, let's get this over with. Take it off."
"You know, I don't think Raphael would like knowing how much you enjoy these debriefings," Harry said. "Maybe I should tell him?"
"Are you trying to wreck my happy home?" Ernie asked. "Cause your abs aren't bad, but..." He had circled around to the back, and Harry was expecting a derogatory comment about his anatomy, but Ernie didn't say anything. "You've got a bite."
"I don't feel it," Harry said. And he knew what that meant. An active vampire bite, from a viable undead creature wasn't painful. The magic of the bite blocked pain. A chill raced up his spine, and Harry pulled his robe back on. He was bitten, and at least one of their targets survived today. "Her minions saved her," Harry whispered. "They would have exploded first and she used the cover of their demise to protect her from the sun. We were suffocating in the cloud while she was escaping."
"Yes, she got away this time, but she doesn't have any minions left, and we have her number." Ernie took Harry by the shoulders and nodded his encouragement. "Plus, you know you pissed her off, if with the sun shining and her escape on the line, she took the time to bite you in the ass."
Luna was hard at work writing out a series of questions for the coming press conference with the Minister of Magic. She would have to get her questions approved by the assistant editor, and he was terribly narrow-minded. Looking over her list, she tried to guess if any questions might make it through. She circled the two she had the most confidence in.
How is the administration planning to deal with the growing underground army of extremist Druid revolutionaries?
Does the ministry have a position on the proposed resumption of Dragon husbandry in Wales?
With a sigh, Luna folded her parchment into an airplane. She scribbled Mr. Boyd's office on it and tossed it into the air. She could not continue working here much longer. These stodgy people were going to drive her mad.
Luna sorted through the papers on her desk, searching for her notes on the Druish malcontents. But she found Harry's letter. Hedwig had brought it to her while she was brainstorming rather unsuccessfully for an article topic that was both interesting and that her employer would publish.
Maybe her professional life was painful and unrewarding, but she had Harry, and he was even coming home. A good snog was bound to lift her spirits. Luna rested her head on her hand and let her imagination carry her into Harry's arms.
She could have spent the rest of the day there, but an owl fluttered in and hit her desk. It was a nondescript brown barred owl, ministry issue by the look of the neat square attached to its leg. Luna untied the missive and opened it.
Dear Ms. Luna Lovegood,
You are currently listed as Auror Harry Potter's primary contact in case of medical emergency. It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that Mr. Potter sustained an injury in the line of duty, and has been transported to St. Mungo's for further treatment.
Because of Mr. Potter's celebrity status, his condition is considered highly confidential. Further information will be available to you at the hospital.
Please destroy this letter after you have read it.
With Best Wishes for Your Continued Health,
Forest Duber
Department for Prompt Familial Notifications
Luna sat quietly for several long seconds, reading and rereading the letter. She didn't panic really. Treatment meant he wasn't dead, and anything that was treatable would eventually be okay. She had to get to the hospital though. Those quacks at St. Mungo's were oblivious to so much of the medical world. She had to make sure Harry was being cared for properly.
Hospital rooms were, as a rule, stifling, but Harry had never been quite so frustrated to be stuck in one. Usually one was rather unpleasantly ill when trapped in the hospital, but harbouring a simple vampire bite wasn't uncomfortable, painful, or even noticeable. Not that he wanted to be in pain or feel sick, but he was tired of the monotony, tired of not being home, tired of never being alone with Luna. He couldn't exactly argue with the need for quarantine though. A simple vampire bite could turn into an incurable case of undeath if the biting vampire got a chance to summon and exsanguinate their prey.
Visitors were Harry's only escape from the monotony, and today he had two of his favourites. Hermione kept her bushy hair short these days and Ron had begun to thicken just a bit around the middle like his father. They were still his best friends, even if they couldn't be considered a trio any longer.
"How's the baby?" Harry asked. "Is she walking yet?"
Hermione shook her head and groaned. "Walking? She's running everywhere. I swear if she doesn't kill herself before she's five it'll be a miracle."
"It will take more than jumping off the settee, or pulling over coffee tables to kill a Weasley toddler. Trust me," Ron said. "Are you and Luna still together?"
Harry had to smile at the calm question. Ron had come a long way toward being okay with Harry and Luna's relationship. Their friendship had suffered through his break up with Ginny. It was a big step, asking about his next serious love interest. "We're still together, yes. She should be stopping by after work again."
"That's lovely," Hermione said. She gave Harry an inquisitive look like she was dying to say something. Harry wondered if she would be able to hold it in. "You know, you've been dating her for a rather long time."
"You think?" Harry asked. He purposefully ignored the implied question about how serious their relationship was. He loved Luna. She brought balance into his life, a light fluffy ray of eccentric joy that brightened his days. But he had loved Ginny too. That love had flared brightly before it consumed itself and died. Should he make a more significant commitment to Luna? How did he know their love was a lifelong bond and not another transient affair? "So is the ministry still keeping my stay here top secret?" Harry asked, changing the subject. "It has to leak soon. I've been here weeks."
"Well, technically the leak has begun. The papers know you're here, but they don't know why," Ron said. "The Quibbler recently came out with an impressive list of theories, most of which involve tragic scarring or incurable insanity."
"I think the ministry should just let it go and give someone an exclusive, set the record straight. You could give an interview. It isn't like you to blithely let the ministry dictate your life." Hermione grinned. "You could probably get Luna a promotion. She's still working at the Prophet, right?"
"She doesn't want an exclusive. I offered," Harry said.
Whitney Boyd's office was entirely too neat. A little clutter made a person more trustworthy in Luna's eyes. Well, Mr. Boyd was definitely not trustworthy. Luna sat in front of her assistant editor's desk and tried not to be angry. Anger was a waste of energy, and it poisoned the spirit. Sometimes it wasn't an easy emotion to shrug off though.
When Boyd finally came striding in with his smug superior smile plastered in place, Luna's spine stiffened. "Good afternoon, sir."
"Lovegood, you're here early. It's only four in the afternoon. What can I do for you?" Boyd asked. "I'm not going to change my mind about your Biting Shibb article, so forget it if that's why you're here."
"No, I'm here because you've had me followed. I'm here because it's been going on for weeks. I'm here because there should be enough respect between a paper and its reporters that their private life isn't invaded. I quit." Luna stood and smiled serenely. "You know, Harry offered me an exclusive interview recently. I turned him down. But maybe I should accept it, now that I won't be writing for such a stuffy, unoriginal publication." Luna headed for the door but she paused in her dramatic exit. "If I catch another Prophet photographer dogging my steps, he won't like the repercussions."
Luna collected her box of already packed personal items and strolled out of the Daily Prophet's offices feeling light as a cloud. "Free at last," she breathed. It was a pretty day, a rare day in a city like London. A clear fresh breeze caressed her face. The sun was shining, warming her skin. Life was very nearly perfect. If they could just get Harry out of quarantine, she would officially be happy with the world.
The walk from the Prophet to St. Mungo's wasn't a long one. She wasn't tired at all by the time she was slipping into the hospital. Luna waved to the familiar ground floor nursing staff before heading for the stairs and Harry's room on the first floor.
The poor dear was half-lying, half-sitting on his bed with his arms spread wide and his eyes closed. "You look bored," Luna giggled.
A warm smile spread over Harry's face and he nodded. "I am very bored."
"We can't have that." Luna stepped inside and shut the door behind her. She slipped a brown paper wrapped package out of her box and headed for the wash room. "I'll be right back."
Harry continued to lie staring at the ceiling. He could hear the faucet in the bathroom running. "I should have played professional Quidditch instead of doing Auror training," he called. "Professional Quidditch players don't get nibbled on by the undead. Don't you think?"
The bathroom door creaked open, and Luna answered quickly. "Actually there have been quite a few Quidditch players who've run afoul of the undead. There was even an entire squad in Croatia that was bitten and converted before anyone realized that a local vampire was a fan of the team. Of course the International Gaming Commission wouldn't let them compete after the change since they weren't human anymore."
Harry chuckled. He knew better than to take her every story as gospel, but Luna's tales were always entertaining. "An entire vampire Quidditch team? Well, if I do break quarantine and get nibbled again, at least I'll have someone to hang out with."
"You are not getting nibbled again, well, not by anything undead anyway." Harry sat up and looked toward Luna. His mouth dropped open at the sight of her. She had piled her dirty blond hair untidily on top of her head. And her outfit defied logic. A thin swatch of red material was stretched across her chest, and thin streamers extended from the material creating a type of dress, a dress that did very little concealing. Every step she took revealed more of her smooth pale skin than Harry had seen in too many months. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut so that he could try to be rational.
"Luna, that door doesn't lock from the inside. Anyone could walk in. This is a hospital. We can't? I mean, can we?"
Gesturing with her wand, Luna cast, "Colloportus." The door glowed orange for a moment, sealing. "You know, killing the biter isn't the only way to purify a Vampire wound. There are other ways." Luna lifted her hands above her head and stretched enticingly. "This is an Amazonian purification robe, especially made to be worn during a vampire bite purification. I think I'd like to try my hand at one. Are you game?"
Harry met Luna's normally serene grey eyes, and couldn't resist the fiery mischief glinting at him today. He left the bed and folded Luna into his arms. "So how does one perform this Amazonian purification ritual?"
"We're going to have to go back to the bed," Luna chirped.
The Weasley kitchen was covered in a fine film of cereal milk. Ron mopped at his face with his napkin and scowled at his drenched robes. "Melody, you are an ungodly terror," he said. "Hermione, help!"
Hermione hurried in from the hall and frowned at the mess. "She waved her wand at the table, "Scourgify!" Then she turned on Ron. "Landrix!" Finally she set the mop to work on the floor. "Honey, they're basic house keeping spells. Learn them, or I'm going to kill you."
"But the mop will never listen to me," Ron moaned.
"Feigning incompetence is not going to work here, Mr. Weasley. Are you done with the paper?" Hermione grabbed the Daily Prophet without waiting for him to reply. "I can't do it all Ron."
"Can I at least have the sports section?" Ron asked.
But Hermione didn't answer. She was staring down at the front page, mouth open. "Oh my God. Harry Potter and his Hospital-Bound Romance? What is the saviour of the wizarding world up to these days? Aside from spending his spare time at St. Mungo's, he's now receiving risqué visits from current girlfriend Luna Lovegood.
"Mrs. Harper, the patient in the adjoining room had this to say: It sounded like they were having fun over there. Youngsters are a joy aren't they?"
"Let me see that," Ron said. He hurried around the table to read over Hermione's shoulder. Above the text, a picture told a thousand words. The couple was standing together in front of Harry's hospital bed, arms around each other intimately, while Luna's outfit stretched the limits of decency. Occasionally a censorship spell would activate blurring out sections of the photo. "How?"
"Forget how, call in to work. We're going to be late this morning. Someone has to run interference at the hospital." She hoisted Melody out of her highchair. "I'm dropping her with your mother. Move out. I'll see you at St. Mungo's."
The smell of lavender greeted Harry when he drifted out of a peaceful sleep. A curtain of blond wavy hair covered his pillow in its scented curtain. Luna slept beside him, snuggled close with a half-smile curving her lips. Harry traced a finger along her blond, almost-invisible eyebrows, and was rewarded with a sleepy blink. "Good morning."
Luna grinned. "Yes it is a very good morning, and it was a wonderful evening. We should have a wonderful afternoon if possible."
She stretched like a lazy cat and wrapped her arms around him tight. "Marry me," Harry said. Once the words were out, Harry felt relieved. He felt certain and fearless.
Luna looked up thoughtfully. "Sure, but I'll need to get dressed." She rolled out of bed and scurried into the bathroom.
He hadn't meant that second, but why not? Chuckling, Harry breathed in Luna's lingering scent. He rolled out of bed, planning to get dressed and maybe unseal the door to let breakfast in, but his left leg wouldn't support his weight. Harry tumbled to the ground, and a bright smile spread over his face. That was one Hell of a pain in his ass, which meant his vampire bite was a little more mundane this morning.
Luna emerged from the bathroom, dressed and haphazardly coiffed. "What are you doing in the floor?"
"Why don't you fetch me a healer, before we head to the chapel?" Harry said. "Non-mystical bites are a pain."
Her smile turned brilliant, and Luna clapped. "I really purified it?! Oh I just knew it."
"You really purified it," Harry agreed.
Luna skipped over and dropped to her knees. She ran her fingers into his hair and mussed it more dramatically. "You know, I think I'm ready to write that exclusive you offered but for the Quibbler. Vampires, love, and Amazonian purification rituals, father will love it."
Note: This Fic was written for the inimitable AnnaFantassium, the sweetest Swede in the HP fandom.