Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: venturous
From: A Wonderful Watcher: bonfoi

Title: Ribbons, Bows, and Busks
Characters/Pairings: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley – Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood – Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger – Neville Longbottom/Millicent Bulstrode
Rating: NC17
Kinks/Themes Included: Dream Magic – Sex Magic – Sex While Wearing a Corset – Masturbation – Voyeurism – Het Sex – Anal Play – Workplace Sex – Cowgirl – Reverse Cowgirl
Other Warnings/Content: Post-Second Voldemort War – Romance – A Bit of OoC-ness – Cussing – Humour
Word Count: ~11,050
Summary/Description: Every witch and wizard has a true half, and Harry hasn't found his yet. But! There's someone who knows Harry is hers, and she'll get her man...flat on his back and happy to be there if she has anything to say about it!
Author's Notes: To my awesome, remarkable and utterly fantastic beta, you rock my world every time you make my words and vision so much better! To my recipient, het isn't my forte, but the chance to craft something for DD's Kinky Kristmas won out over my reticence. That, and the fact you had Harry and Luna in the mix. To each and every one: Happy Christmas and may all your Yuletide dreams come true!



Luna smoothed down her favourite outside robes, the lavender ones with the henbane flowers embroidered around the edges. Today she was going to ask an important question and she had to get it just right. All the portents were favourable and even the Nargles were behaving, so...it was now or never!

~*~*~

Harry woke up, alone again, and rubbed his eyes. Six months. It'd been six months since Ginny calmly got out of their bed and dressed, and then told Harry their handfasting was at an end.

He still didn't understand the whole "year and a day" thing, but he'd gotten up himself, dragged on the very first jumper her mum had ever knitted him and walked downstairs with her. He'd hugged her, straightened her pointy witch's hat as it was a blustery day out, and wished her well. The memory of how docile he'd been rankled even now.

"Bloody great lump, that's what I was," he muttered. Blinking owlishly, he found himself standing in front of the kitchen sink, a mug in his hand and his favourite Weasley jumper pulled on. "Made me barmy," he sighed before grabbing at the merrily tooting teapot for some much needed tea.

The fireplace gave a whoomp and the green flame of a Floo call lit up the still dim kitchen. "Harry Potter, are you available?" a cultured voice asked.

"Who's calling?" he answered.

"Blaise Zabini."

Harry sipped at his tea, barely noticing he'd burned his tongue until he tried to say something. "Ow! Yeth, yeth, I'm here."

A face appeared over the coals, darkly handsome and not-quite-liked. Harry grabbed a chair and turned it so he could sit while they talked. Although he couldn't imagine why Blaise Zabini of all people would be calling—

"—doesn't know. I'm doing this for my own state of mind."

"Uh, pardon? Who doesn't know what?" Harry pushed up his glasses with one finger and almost spilled his tea over his chest.

"Ginevra." The you twat was definitely implied by the Snape-like quirked eyebrow. "It is good form to ask a beloved's formerly handfasted partner for permission to pay one's addresses."

"I'm gonna say it again. Huh?" Harry's sluggish brain began whirling as the words slowly sank in. "Are you asking me if you can ask for Ginny's hand in marriage?" His voice had risen until he was shouting the last bit. Remarkably, nothing was quivering or clanging in the kitchen in response to the spike of his emotions. Interesting.

"Why, yes. I always knew you were smarter than you looked," Zabini said with a superior smirk. "May I?"

"May you what?" Harry growled. He slurped the rest of his tea and sent the mug back to the side of the sink with a wandless wave. The words had finally made themselves understood and he realized that there was no going back anymore. With a nod, Harry stood up, smoothed a hand over his shirt and sleep pants and Transfigured them into something more business-like. Zabini's face didn't change all that much, but something rather like respect flickered across it.

The words seemed to come from outside of Harry, but he mouthed them anyway. "I, Harry James Potter, relinquish and release Ginevra Weasley to the care and comfort of Blaise Zabini. The geas of happiness and a full life now resides with him. So mote it be." A frisson of magic shivered over Harry's skin, and an answering quiver made Zabini's face shift from side-to-side.

"I, Blaise Zabini, accept Ginevra Weasley as my affianced wife and give thanks to the generous nature of Harry Potter. May you, too, find your true love. So mote it be." Another frisson, this one visible as a golden tinting of the air around Harry, and the Floo call was done, the kitchen hearth once more filled only with last night's coals and ash.

Harry sat down abruptly. "Not what I was expecting this morning," he mumbled.

"Potter, if every day went as you planned, the Wizarding world would be in ruins by luncheon," the small portrait of Severus Snape muttered right back from above the fireplace. "Besides, that girl was never your perfect match. She couldn't stand me." Snape preened in his portrait.

That startled a laugh out of Harry and he stood up once again, sliding the chair back into its place at the table. "Snape, I never knew you to hold back. Why didn't you say something when Ginny moved in?" He stepped closer to the portrait, looking for signs of the dead wizard's thoughts.

"Lu—you know, I just remembered I have somewhere else I'd rather be," Snape said suddenly and jumped out of his high-backed chair and almost ran out of the frame.

"Why can't I get a bloody straight answer anymore?" Harry asked the room at large.

~*~*~

"Hi, Luna." There was the muffled sound of something falling into the wall and Luna looked up to see who had addressed her.

"Ginny." Luna's smile dimmed a bit, but then she noticed a glint of gold on the other witch's right wrist and let it bloom even bigger. "You've accepted Zabini's troth then?"

"Yes, I—how did you know?" Ginny asked, wide-eyed.

Luna reached out and picked up Ginny's right hand, a casual shake revealing the gold bonding bracelet. "Aurum, corundum, dexter, ad infinitum." She held Ginny's hand up higher. "Gold for the shining dawn of a new beginning. Ruby to symbolise devotion and desire, as well as a play on your red hair. The right hand, the hand of power, as well as your casting hand. And, finally, the never-ending bond of the unbroken bracelet. Simple, really." She let go of Ginny's hand with an unfocused look on her face.

"Ah, yeah, if you say so." Ginny shook herself and looked around. "I, ah, have to get to a meeting, Luna. We'll meet up later, all right?" She hurried away without waiting for Luna's response.

Luna's eyes sharpened and her feigned look vanished when she heard Ginny's muttered "How in Merlin's name does she do that?" behind her back.

~*~*~

Harry stepped out into the Ministry atrium, barely slipping across the overly polished marble floor before reaching up to straighten his Auror's robes. It shouldn't have felt like such a special day, but the Floo call from Zabini seemed to have ranked up there with such odd occurrences as Severus Snape fleeing his portrait and a surprise visit from none other than Millicent Bulstrode-Longbottom. Although, perhaps special wasn't the exact word he was looking for.

Weaving his way through the clerks and civilians, Harry thought back on Millie's visit...

Someone knocked and then rang the bell to the special entrance, and Harry grimaced. A witch or a wizard he knew just had to come calling on what was shaping up to be a weird day to end all weird days. He strode toward the door on the other side of his pantry, and pulled it open with a "Yeah, what can I do for you?"

"Well, you can say 'Hello, Millie, thanks for the stew I just know you've brought me,'" Millicent Bulstrode-Longbottom said with the barest hint of a smile on her stolid face. When Harry didn't move, she harrumphed and jostled her way in, thumping him in the arm with her still bubbling cauldron of fragrant beef stew. "Morgana's tits, Potter, what's gotten into you? You knew I was bringing you dinner for helping out with Nev's Carnivorous Tentacula problem." She set the cauldron down with a thud and cast a stasis charm on it, set for half-six.

Harry stood at the door staring back along the path from the Wizarding world, marvelling at the small flowers that had sprouted up overnight. Flowers that shouldn't have been there, since it was getting on toward Christmas.

"Hey!" Millicent hollered.

"Great lady requires help. Kreacher is here."

Harry shut the door with a bang and turned to see his house-elf bowing obsequiously before Millie. "Kreacher can make all right."

Harry bit his lip as Millie looked down her aquiline nose and caught Kreacher's eyes. "Kreacher can take himself off and clean something," she said in a menacing undertone. The house-elf popped away in a flash, a few strands of unravelled tea towel fluttering to the floor where he'd been standing.

"I really wish I could do that." Harry went around Millie to sniff at the static cauldron. "I'd forgotten, honestly. Today's already started out odd."

"It's almost Yuletide, Potter. The growing season is ending, and new things are readying themselves for spring." She began opening cupboards, pulling out spices and plates.

"Millie, what the hell?" He began putting things back, but she stopped him with one touch on the back of his hand. He stared at her hand, surprised.

"Look at the plates, Potter. These are the plates Nev and I gave you last year. Ginevra never used them." Harry stared and picked up a fine china plate, realizing that he hadn't seen the pattern since then—a pearly rim around the edge and a never-ending Celtic knot that seemed completely made up of ravens and lions. "She couldn't see the pattern, so she hid them away."

Harry looked up at her, a questioning look in his eyes. "I'm not sorry she left, Potter. I'm only sorry she kept you away from your true half for so long." She wrapped her fingers over Harry's. "My Grandda had a touch of the Sight. I do, too." She seemed uncomfortable with telling Harry, but she persevered. "I know she's not the one for you, the one that will make you so happy that you're ready to burst when she's near, but I do know that your true half is coming closer."

"Am I the only one who didn't get the manual on my own love life?" Harry set the plate down gently and backed away. "I mean, first Zabini, and then Snape buggering off to who knows where, and then you all ooh-ah, it's love for Harry, finally." He reached up and ruffled his hair. "I think I'd rather a good, ol' fashioned murder, thanks. All this spooky-ooky love shite is too much for my pint-sized brain."

Millicent crossed her arms and glared. "You, Harry Potter, are a heathen and a fool."

Harry rocked back on his heels. "An' you sound just like Snape."

Shaking her head, Millie uncrossed her arms and dragged Harry into a bear hug before pushing him back, her hands on his forearms. "Potter, my Nev thinks the world of you, you know that, right? I'm thankful you kept him alive long enough for us to find each other when we were supposed to. Now, being as that's more than enough to be going on with, is it any wonder we want you as happy as we are?" She unscrewed the cap on a spice jar and shook the contents into her hand.

"I thought I was happy, handfasted to the girl of my dreams, becoming an Auror, hell, surviving Voldemort so I could do those things..." his voice trailed off. He stepped away from Millie's side. "I just want to make it through Christmas and all the good cheer rot and the New Year's hangovers, and then I'll think about seeing someone. That'll make six months and even I think that's more than enough time mooning around."

"Potter..." Harry turned away, missing the fact that she'd crushed the spice and sprinkled it on the plates.

"Millie, I appreciate the encouragement, but I've got to get to work." He gave her a half-hearted grin and motioned toward the door. "Yell for Kreacher and he'll get the door for you." Harry left the kitchen at a quick clip, ignoring Millie's parting words.

"It'll hit you just as hard as it hit my Neville, Harry Potter. Just you wait and see."

"Kreacher comes to wish great lady farewell."

"You are a loathsome lackey, ain't you?"

~*~*~

"Hello, Harry."

Harry spun on his heel, narrowly avoiding a cloud of Ministry memos as they fluttered around him, some crashing into other workers and the decorative plants. "Hey there, Luna." He reached out and pulled her close; it was almost noon, and the halls were packed with changing shifts.

"So, how's the life of an Unspeakable?" Harry asked, his hand falling to rest in the curve of her lower back. "I haven't seen you for a while."

Luna chuckled and leaned close. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you," she whispered throatily.

Harry laughed delightedly. "You've been watching movies!" The others in the hallway seemed to step away from the pair, not that Harry or Luna noticed. "If you'd care to catch one in the theatre I'm game, you know that, right?" His arm tightened around Luna, and Harry suddenly realized how right she felt there, against him. Of course, he panicked and almost spun her away with a surprised "Oh!"

"Harry, I didn't know you've been practicing ancient dances of the pixies." Luna twisted her wrist and let Harry's athletic instincts reel her back into his side. "Very nice, and we didn't even knock down the grumpy guard this time." She smiled up at Harry, who, for some strange reason, resembled a gobsmacked, gasping eel.

"Ah, yeah, yeah," Harry muttered. "Look, Luna, I've got to run back to my office, forgot a file, you know. But, I do want to catch a movie with you." Harry dropped her hand as if scalded and was balanced on the balls of his feet when Luna reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Harry, would you do me the honour of escorting me to the Hogsmeade Yuletide festival later this month?" She was blushing, something she didn't remember ever doing before, but this was a very special occasion.

Before he shook off Luna's hand—and his chest possibly burst from how hard his heart was pounding—Harry sucked in a startled breath. "My pleasure." Then he ran through the crowd as if all the Death Eaters there ever had been were on his tail again.

~*~*~

Harry barrelled through the noonday ministry crowd, apologizing to all and sundry, but still moving faster—and in the wrong direction—for that time of day. He skidded to a stop outside of the office he shared with Draco Malfoy, struggling to drag in deep breaths.

The door suddenly opened just as Harry was reaching for it. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Potter, I could hear you wheezing and gasping yards away. Get in here!" Draco held the door open and pulled Harry inside, slamming it with a snarl. "Just what's gotten into you?"

"I-I-I don't know," Harry finally got out between heaving breaths. "I think I just agreed to a date with Luna Lovegood." He leaned against Draco's desk, misjudged the distance and fell against the edge, bruising more than his ego. "Oh, Merlin, what am I going to do?"

Laughing, Draco flopped gracefully down into his chair, put his feet on the desk—crossed at the ankles, of course—and tapped the tip of one boot against Harry's hip. "If you are a smart man, and sometimes even I think you might be, you'll go and have a goody-two-shoes fantastic time." He leaned back with a smirk. "And you'll win me some Galleons, too, so that's even more incentive for you."

Harry shook his head, ignoring Draco's allusion to the office betting pool. "No, you git. It's Luna! I mean, she's smart and funny and weird, in a totally wonderful sort of way, you know? And, she's so not like Ginny in any way, shape..." Harry's eyes unfocused for a moment. "Really, have you seen her recently? She's bloody gorgeous..." Draco's boot tip tapped harder and Harry recovered his train of thought. "I mean, I'm just Harry. I'm not as smart or as daring as she deserves and I was handfasted until six months a—"

Draco sprang out of his chair and rounded on Harry, grabbing his lapels and shaking his partner. "Potter, you are the densest of dunderheads, you know that? The woman has been your constant companion for months." He let go and let Harry fall back against his desk, bruising the other side of his ego. "My word, man! Even Severus noticed how loopy the poor dear had become, and he actively likes her!"

Harry gaped at Draco, his mouth falling open. He snapped it shut when his teeth felt cool. "You're the third person, well, second living one, that is, to say that Luna might fancy me. What am I missing?" He put up both hands and tugged at his hair.

Snorting, Draco pushed Harry until he was sitting in his own chair. "Look, Potter, I'm just a rich playboy, but even I could see the Weaslette wasn't your true half. She did all the right things for all the wrong reasons." When Harry looked at him with round, shocked eyes, Draco rolled his. "Did no one ever explain why we handfast, Potter?"

"No, no, I don't think so," Harry said slowly. "I just thought it was a family tradition or something like."

Draco sighed and went 'round their desks to his chair and sat down. "Potter, after we're done today, I'm taking you to Flourish & Blotts for some remedial instruction." He scratched his right eyebrow. "You need books, but no going to Weasley's wife. You need to slog through it all without her help, 'cuz she'll be next to worthless being as how she met her true half when we were kids and she's Muggleborn to boot."

"That's no way to talk about Herm—"

"No, you wool-stuffed ignoramus, it's just that she found her true half right off the bat. Unlike you, she didn't have to faff around with 'almost like true love' and get turned inside out." Draco shook his head and pointed his wand toward the magically enhanced coffee pot. It rose up and poured out two cups, to which then the sugar spoon added two teaspoons and finally a dash of milk from the jug for Draco and almost half of the thing for Harry. The steaming cups floated to their respective desks. Harry just stared at his.

"It's because she's devoured every book there ever was, and then some, Potter. In so many ways, she's so much better prepared to be a witch than you are a wizard. Look, we'll go, I'll get you the etiquette books and maybe even let you borrow the Malfoy Book of Meeting. We can even stop at Gringotts and check your vault to see if your father put aside the Potter Book of Meeting. Sound like a plan?" Draco sipped at his coffee as he waited for Harry's response. He was almost done when Harry raised his head.

"Why aren't you being a prat about this, Malfoy? I mean, I know we've been partners for three years, but this is going above and beyond."

Licking his lips, Draco smiled, not smirked, smiled and said, "Potter, your Lovegood did me a good turn once. Treated me like I was worth something and I've never forgotten." He made a humming sound as he drained his coffee cup. "And she's a cousin. Any reflected glory is all to the good."

"Yeah, well, that makes it all so clear." Harry grabbed his coffee and gulped it down. "So, since I've run away from lunch in the canteen, what have we got here?"

"No, not eating here, Potter. Those damned Ministry mice will be on the crumbs like Gryffindors on cheese," Draco said with a laugh. "You and I are going out to investigate a burglary and if we just so happen to take the Floo to Fortescue's, since it's so close, who am I to squeal?"

~*~*~

After chasing down a Muggleborn thief and vaulting over and falling through several enchanted guard hedges, Harry was ready for nothing more than writing up the case and falling face-first into his bed. But Malfoy was still perky, even with a set of magical stitches holding on one eyebrow where a guard hedge's thorns had torn it.

"C'mon, Potter, we should really go to Gringotts first and then to Flourish & Blotts if you don't have a Book of Meeting. Besides, once we've got you set up with the books, I can go get my mother and she can explain—"

"Your mother?!" Harry squeaked out. He swallowed and tried again. "Your mother, the woman who looks through me like I'm glass, that 'your mother'? Draco, she doesn't like me, and, honestly, this is so not on!"

"You big baby! You should be honoured if she comes. Guiding a powerful wizard like you toward your true half is a privilege, Potter. She'd only do it if she actually felt you were on the right track. She's got a bit of the Sight, you know." Draco scribbled furiously on his case report, the quill tearing through the parchment a bit.

"Ah..." Harry tilted his head and rubbed his chin on his shoulder, his own report forgotten. "I apologize, Draco, but your mum scares me, a bit, mind."

"Well, then, at least Gringotts and then some of that Indian take-away you introduced me to." Draco glanced up with a smirk. "You can Floo call Mother and ask her yourself."

"Oh, Merlin!" Harry let his head fall down onto his desk until he could thump it twice. "Why am I so gullible?"

"Ah, Potter, the answer to that could fill volumes," Draco said with a laugh.

~*~*~

Luna lay down on her bed, the covers already pulled back by one of the house-elves. She hummed a soft tune, something about love the one you're with, that her mother had enjoyed. A lazy abstract wave of her wand and the sconces dimmed until the flames in the fireplace cast a flickering, soothing light.

"He said yes," Luna said in a sing-song voice.

"Of course, he did, Miss Lovegood."

"Professor Snape, why are you helping me?" She toed off her slippers and then dug her feet under the covers while she waited for the portrait's response.

"In death I have learned more of what makes Potter the man he is." Luna could picture the sour twist of Snape's lips as he said those words. "I have also, ah, been enlightened by my own good fortune."

"Oh, Professor Lupin's portrait woke up, then? I'm glad. He always stared after you with such sad eyes."

Snape coughed, seeming to choke on his words. The muffled sound of someone thumping on another's back filled the peaceful silence. "Be that as it may—Lupin, you thump me once more and I'm sleeping at Hogwarts!—I would like to discharge my Life Debt as well as I can. Seeing as you are Potter's true half, and he's a powerful idiot—Damn it, Lupin! Stop trying to muzzle me!—I would rather see you two together sooner rather than later."

Remus spoke up quickly. "What he's trying to say, Luna, is that the old softie wants to share the love. Now, I'm going to take him away and give him some other romantic things to think about besides your love-life." Remus gently dragged Snape out of the picture frame.

"Lupin! The young lady needs...oh!" The soft sound of kissing interrupted whatever Snape was going to say. "Yes, yes, I'll return in the morning, Miss Lovegood, do carry—Lupin! Where did you learn to do such naughty things with your tongue?"

A house-elf popped in with a china cup and saucer on a salver. "Missy Luna's hot cocoa, Miss." She took it and thanked the house-elf. After she drank it and put aside the cup and saucer, Luna reached into her nightstand and pulled out a glowing rod. She rolled it between her hands to warm it, the friction and her body heat allowing her to curve it just so, then a touch of her wand kept it in that shape as she shed her nightclothes and lay naked in the firelight.

Luna touched herself, happy that she was wet and ready for her nightly ritual. She raised the dildo to her lips and whispered, "My Harry," and it started to vibrate, softly, gently at first, then shivered between her palms, and, then the cycle started all over again. Faint explosions of colour randomly appeared and a series of bumps appeared and disappeared under her fingertips. She pulled her pillows into the best position and then pushed the dildo against and then into herself. Each time the vibrations were at their strongest, she'd delve deeper until it was quivering and stroking inside her, another whispered command operating it hands-free.

"Oh, Harry..." Luna sighed as the dildo stroked deep and nudged her hymen. It pulled back and didn't go that deep again, but it massaged everything inside, setting off jolts of electricity that skittered over her nerves.

Luna could picture Harry touching her, fingers gentle but firm as they traced the lips of her labia, parting them to dabble in her juices and flick her clitoris. "Mm, twist, my Harry," Luna moaned, and the dildo added a twisting motion, rubbing against the walls of her vagina with those random bumps. "Harry, oh, Harry...fuck me..."

~*~*~

Harry was half asleep over the Potter Book of Meeting. Thank Merlin they'd found the thing, otherwise he'd be having a late supper with Mrs. Malfoy and looking for poison in everything he was served.

"Damned wizards," Harry huffed out. He slammed the book shut and left it on his desk, retreating to his bed in a daze.

"True half is the person meant for you," he muttered. "True half is the best fucking sex you'll ever have..."

Harry's body was already attuned to Luna's; he just didn't realize it. A muttered spell and Harry's trousers and pants vanished. On the edge of falling asleep, he found his hand around his spit-slicked cock, stroking firmly, with a twist at the top of his stroke that he'd never done before but enjoyed a great deal. His mind supplied an image of Luna writhing across lemony yellow sheets, her knees parted so he could see a shiny rod, a dildo, plunging in and out of her, every deep thrust making her cry out his name. He stroked in time with the dildo, his hips rising and falling as if he were really there, replacing it, feeling Luna's heat, her muscles clenching around him, holding him strongly as he surged into her, filled her, claimed her as his true half.

In his dreams, Harry felt Luna climax, felt the quivering of her legs as her knees knocked against his ribs. He felt the contractions around his cock milking him of the strongest orgasm he'd ever felt. When he let his body fall forward—but not directly on Luna, to the side—he felt petal-soft lips murmur against his forehead, "My sweet Harry."

~*~*~

"Get me a mediwitch!" Draco snarled. "Now!"

The other Aurors were rushing around, interviewing witnesses and interrogating suspects; some were even helping shift the remains of the façade that had been brought down with powerful hexes. Draco didn't care. He was clutching Harry's sleeve so tightly that the buttons were indented into his palm. He barely flinched when someone pinched his cheek.

"Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, listen to me. Draco Malfoy." The words were repeated over and over until Draco blinked and looked toward the speaker. His jaw dropped.

"Lovegood? What the hell are you doing here?" His eyes were wide in surprise. The Unspeakable was dressed in pitch black duelling leathers—fitted, figure-revealing duelling leathers—that emphasised both her femininity and the deadliness of the female of the species. He gulped. "Bloody hell, woman, you really are a match for Harry, aren't you?" he choked out.

"Draco, you must let go of Harry." Luna tapped his hand lightly with her wand. "I can help him, but you can't be touching him." Draco removed his hand, and scooted back on the crate he'd been using as a seat. He watched Luna's lips moving but heard no spells being cast. Yet, her wand was weaving through the air in the most intricate of castings, lines of power sparking as the spells flared into existence and then settled over Harry's broken body. It only took a few minutes and then she was stumbling forward to rest her head on Harry's chest.

"Lovegood?" Draco ventured. "Luna? I think I see a mediwitch coming this way."

Luna forced herself upright and smiled softly at Draco, so completely different from the witch who probably just saved Harry Potter's life. "That's lovely, Draco. Now, you'll keep what I did to yourself, won't you? They wouldn't understand." She winked at Draco and with a tired flourish Disapparated.

"What's wrong with him?" the mediwitch asked as she conjured a three-legged stand for her satchel.

Draco blinked his eyes, shook his head, and said, "A bloody building fell on him, you mealy-mouthed twit. What's it look like?"

~*~*~

Harry floated in a sea of warmth and light. The last thing he remembered was turning back to wave Draco off. He'd brought down the madwoman setting timed incendiary hexes at small clubs. There wasn't any need for Draco to come over and watch Harry read her her rights and—

"Nothing," Harry sighed, "still can't remember a blessed thing." He rolled in the warm light, uncaring, because, for once in his life, he was content.

"You don't have to remember anything right now, do you, Harry?" his companion murmured against his ear. He shook his head and turned to meet her lips in a kiss.

"Nope, nothing's more important than being here, with you, Luna." He rolled over and on top of her, bare chest to bare breasts. "There's so much more here to keep my attention, wouldn't you say?"

Luna gave a throaty chuckle and wrapped her arms around Harry, tilting her face up invitingly. Harry took the hint and peppered kisses all over her cheeks, her nose, her temples, everywhere but her lips until Luna put a hand on the back of his head and drew him right where she wanted him. They kissed leisurely, sweetly, tongues slipping past each other to map out teeth and soft palates, savouring each other's taste. Harry pulled back with a sigh. "Mm, yeah, I like what you're thinking." They chuckled together as Luna spread her legs and Harry moved between them, his cock dipping into her wet slit.

"Harry..." Luna crooned, "come closer, Harry..." She sighed as Harry, with exquisite slowness, slid into her body, filling her up. They both groaned when Harry could go no further.

"I'm as close as I can get, baby," Harry said with difficulty. When Luna opened her eyes—she didn't remember closing them, but she must have—she saw the sweat beading on his lip and forehead, his brilliant green eyes shining down at her. With a secretive smile, she clenched her interior muscles and watched Harry's eyes roll to the back of head in time with each contraction. "Enough, Luna, enough, or I won't last long," he begged.

"Long, short, you'll always be with me, Harry," Luna whispered brokenly as he began to rock in and out of her tight hold, the motion awakening so many spine-tingling shocks within her. As he sped up, Luna canted her hips and wrapped her legs around Harry, just above his hips. Suddenly, there were stars exploding and waves crashing and Luna heard a woman—her!—panting and pleading.

Harry was groaning, his face in that rictus that meant sublime pleasure was rushing up his spine and then out into Luna's body. He climaxed with a flurry of frantic thrusts, his fingers biting into Luna's hips, but she didn't care, she was flying apart under him, her orgasm vibrating in counterpoint to his. Yet, neither one of them let the other free, arms and legs and mouths wrapping and meeting as the aftershocks moved from one to the other and back again.

Harry took a deep breath in through his open mouth, huffing as Luna daintily licked his bottom lip and threw in a nibble or two. "Oh, Merlin, Luna, I'll never have enough of you."

Luna's eyes were so blue, so crystalline as she looked up at Harry. "You'll never have to, Harry. You're my true half, Harry James Potter. I'll never have enough of you, either."

~*~*~

Harry came to in St. Mungo's, the sound of knitting needles clacking softly in counterpoint to the pinging of something. He didn't move, trying to figure out, for a few seconds, why he was in hospital and not in Luna's bed. When he moved to straighten his leg, he remembered, remembered the fire-witch, the incendiary hex she must have set before they caught up to her, the damned building exploding...

"Harry, dear, you mustn't frown like that. The lines will set and then your true half will have the devil of a time smoothing them out." Harry turned his head, slowly, and saw Molly Weasley rocking near the window, two pairs of needles knitting away. He thought he saw a black bird in one of the patterns, but his head was hurting and when he reached up, he found he was without his glasses.

"Hallo, Mrs. Weasley," he got out with a groan. She was up and at his side, tut-tutting and helping him wriggle up the pillows so he was reclining and not lying down. "Seems I got hurt at work again."

"Harry Potter!" Molly chided him. "A building, Harry, a great big bit of masonry rained down on you, lad." She smoothed a few stray locks from his forehead, her cool fingers massaging and making him smile softly at the relief. "You've had us all worried. Why, your partner's been frantic."

"Draco Malfoy frantic?" Harry asked, disbelieving. "That prat wouldn't know frantic if it danced up and bit him on the ars—ah, derriere. Ma'am." Molly barely restrained a smirk at Harry's words. "I'm not sorry he didn't get hurt, ma'am. I won't deny that."

"Good thing. Otherwise I wouldn't have a story to tell you, Potter." Draco leaned in the doorway, a twine-tied bundle of books bobbing behind his shoulder. "Feel like another visitor?" he asked, uncharacteristically polite.

"Oh, you just come in, young Malfoy." Molly gave him an appraising look. "You've turned out to be a fine man. Glad to have you on our Harry's side." Molly ended the spell on the knitting needles and whisked the yarn works into a large carpetbag. "I'll just pop by Arthur's office and let him know Harry's woken up. I'm certain there are other folk who'll be stopping by soon."

Draco moved into the room, a simple swish and flick of his wand sending the bundle of books to the table at Harry's bedside. He bowed as Molly left. When she pulled him close and kissed his cheek, he blushed and grinned at her retreating back. "That woman has more faces than my mother, Potter. I'm extremely thrilled she likes me now." They shared a chuckle.

"So, how do you feel after Monday night?" Draco shot a muttered charm at the rocking chair and now it sported cushions all over. He flopped into it with a sigh.

"Monday night?" Harry echoed. "It was just last night, wasn't it?"

"No. You've been the other side of conscious for three days and nights, Potter. If I hadn't seen Lovegood—"

"Luna was there?" Harry felt the bed spinning and clapped a hand to his head. Unfortunately, that hand had a splint on it and he whimpered after he walloped himself. "Why would she be there?" he finally got out.

"She's an Unspeakable, Potter. They go wherever they're sent, or wherever the magic wills it." Draco rocked back and forth, waiting for Harry's fuzzy mind to focus.

"Draco..." Harry drawled suddenly, "what did Luna do to me?"

"Even with a concussion, a badly broken arm, and a rubbish spine, you're still a good Auror, Potter." Draco manoeuvred one leg over the arm of the rocking chair in a stalling tactic. Harry recognized it.

"Draco."

"Oh, all right. Lovegood saved your sodding life. She did some exotic magic that I couldn't even follow and suddenly you were breathing easier and you weren't pasty white." He didn't look in Harry's direction as he finished.

Harry smiled softly. "I dreamed about her, you know, before Monday, and just now, too. Could that last dream be because of what she did?"

Draco gave a superior sniff. "You clod. I've been talked to you about your true half. Haven't you heard anything I've said?" He shook his head and ignored Harry's open mouth.

"Potter, didn't you read the Potter Book of Meeting?" Draco asked incredulously.

Wincing, Harry cut him off. "Malfoy, if you'd shut your gob for a minute, I'll tell you I've been studying the thing every night!" Harry tried to cross his arms over his chest in a huff, but he ended up screaming in pain. "Oh, Merlin, what the fuck?" he groaned past gritted teeth.

"Help! Oh, bugger all you meditwits! Help him!" Draco shouted. A mediwitch rushed into the room and, with a few spells and charms, had Harry horizontal in his bed, a mirror over his head so he could see who he was talking to. Draco had a dazed look on his face.

"Mr. Potter, no sudden movements," the mediwitch admonished Harry. "You're not to be sitting up or walking for the next two weeks. And, as for you," she cast a stern eye over Draco—who had the grace to blush—"you'd do well to make certain your partner follows the medical orders. I know you read them over my shoulder yesterday." Draco nodded and she left them to it, a distinct flounce in her step.

"Draco, you need to tell me everything that happened," Harry said in a monotone. Being flat on one's back due to an injury wasn't what he'd been planning on doing, especially since he thought he had a date with Luna on the coming Saturday. Draco sat back down with a grimace.

He rocked, hummed, and drummed his fingers on the arm of the rocking chair. He stared at Harry's face in the mirror, his grey eyes sombre, and began speaking. "You know that witch was a nutter, plain and true. What we didn't know was that she was related to Dolores Umbridge and my uncles Lestrange." Draco shuddered. "Ick. Just makes me want to bathe again. The thought that—"

Harry bit out, "If I have to stand, I'll beat your procrastinating arse, Malfoy."

"Anyhow, Madam Nutter, as I will call her, rigged not one, not two, but three incendiary hexes to explode. I disarmed one, but you were caught by two of them, even as you Apparated yourself and that loathsome witch out. It was just bad luck that you ended up where most of the building was falling."

"Were any Muggles hurt?" Harry asked, eyes closed. He was sick of looking at his own wan face in the mirror above his bed.

"Potter's Luck, you prat. Only you were hurt." Draco gave a scoffing laugh. "Even the nutter was protected as you crumpled over her, shielding her from the worst of it. Kingsley said he's was putting you in for another Order of Merlin."

Harry winced. He already had three of the damned things, and they all sat in Sirius' old Hogwarts' chest in the attic of No. 12 Grimmauld Place. "Can't they find some more worthy ponce for the damned things?" he muttered.

"Harry Potter! How dare you say such things?" Luna Lovegood swept in, still in her leather duelling robes, a far cry from the ethereal creature Harry normally saw. She scowled, shook her head, and then suddenly, it was fey Luna standing there, wearing someone else's clothes. "Oh, Harry, why didn't you miss the exploding part of the building? The Lava Sprites of Norway are always talking about evasive manoeuvres."

Harry chuckled weakly and Draco laughed outright, and the rest of the visiting hour was spent in outlandish plans to hoist Harry upright with the help of Blast-ended Skrewts and magical balloons filled with inflated Pygmy Puffs.

~*~*~

Luna touched herself, showing Harry how he could make her mewl and sigh with just a few strokes of his fingers. He looked on from the side of the bed, rocking and biting his lip, the butt plug she'd given him for the first day of the Twelve Days of Christmas getting pushed up and into him with the motion.

"Harry, are you getting distracted?" Luna asked, breathlessly. She was touching herself, two fingers scissoring in front of Harry's wide, interested eyes.

"Ah, yeah," he breathed out. Then he realized what he'd said and laughed. "No, no, sweetheart, oh, no. You're much too fascinating to ignore."

Luna removed her fingers and glided toward Harry. The arms of the rocking chair dissolved away and she was straddling him, those slippery muscles at the apex of her legs slowly relaxing and welcoming Harry's cock into her body until her pelvis was flush against him. "Good. I wouldn't want to lose your attention, Harry." She leaned forward, clenching around Harry. "I love it," she whispered against his lips.

Harry woke up with a gasp. He blinked and saw that it was still night, the faintly glowing clock hands on the back of the door pointing to half-three. He gave a shuddering sigh and reached down with his good hand toward where the sheets were tented.

"Third time this week," he muttered. Shoving the sheets aside, his fingers curled around his cock, unconsciously trying to mimic the clenching of dream Luna's interior muscles. He didn't get it exactly right, but it was good enough to bring him off. He closed his eyes and concentrated; a wave of wandless magic took care of his emissions. "Bloody hell, I'm a horny pig," Harry sighed as he fell back to sleep.

The door opened and closed silently.

Outside in the hall, Luna swirled her demiguise-fur cloak from around her shoulders and turned it inside out, the solid velvet lining now making it seem innocuous. She grinned at the night nurses, used to her visiting Harry since his first nightmare after the accident. They never said a word to Harry, as many of them recognized a pair of true halves courting, however unorthodox it might seem.

~*~*~

Harry tugged at the brace the mediwitch and the physiowizard had encased him within. He grumbled as he couldn't take in a full breath, and his ribs ached from being held so stiffly, and he was so constrained that he couldn't even bend over to put on his shoes, and he had to practically do everything for himself by magic.

"It looks like a bloody corset." Harry stared at Hermione's reflection as he complained. "I'm a right figure of fun, aren't I?" he asked her.

Hermione huffed out a put-upon sigh. "Oh, Harry, it's not supposed to be fashionable. It's supposed to help your body heal from the pressure of the falling building." Hermione clutched the arms of the rocking chair and heaved herself up, the lowering of her centre of mass due to impending motherhood making her less agile and far more precious in Harry's eyes, even as she innocuously pointed her wand at the seat and it helped push her up on her feet. "It's not like you'll have to wear it forever, you know." Hermione rubbed her lower back and winced.

"I know, I know. I shouldn't be complaining. I mean, it's not like I'm carrying a baby or something life-altering." Harry flashed her a pained grin and slowly turned around. "It's just, you know I can't stand to be held too tightly, and this is the epitome of too tight."

"No, mate, it's not," Ron said from the doorway. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. "That there is a wonder of medical medicine, partially invented by George Weasley." He grinned widely. "Was supposed to be for the bride on her day, but one thing led to another, and there you have the Hugging Busk for Healthful Healing. Looks better on you than on the model they have at Medi-Marvels and Apothecary in Hogsmeade." He stepped into the room and held out his hand toward his wife. "Ready to bring Harry home for a day or two while he gets used to being hugged back to health, Hermione?"

"As long as I can sit down and put my feet up, I'm willing to let Harry be hugged healthy." Hermione smiled slightly as Harry cringed at all the plays on the name of what was essential a corset. "At least you can hide it under your robes, Harry," Hermione said softly. "No one will notice."

~*~*~

Two weeks later, still encased in the Hugging Busk, Harry carefully navigated the halls of the Ministry, looking for Luna. He'd gotten Hermione's attention off being wobbly due to a shifted centre of gravity by having her help him create an avoidance charm. He was testing it out in the crowded halls of the Ministry for the first time and once more amazed at how brilliant his best friend was truly was.

"Hello, Harry."

Harry turned so quickly that his Auror's robes swirled out and tripped a clerical witch, scattering her files and tripping a young and frantic-looking wizard directly at her feet. Harry and Luna watched as several others slipped and slid on the parchment pieces. Oddly enough, there were smiles and laughs and the odd Funny, I was wondering how I was going to ask you for a lunch date comments. Soon, the hall reached peak traffic flow again and only a stray sheet of parchment was left under Harry's boot.

"You definitely know how to stop traffic, Harry. Somehow, I never would have thought of tripping Ermintrude so that Willitson would finally ask her out." Luna curled her left hand over Harry's right arm and tugged him along as she chatted. "And to think Mr. Hogglestone had been wondering where Mrs. Chatters-Smythe had gotten after the last Ministry do, well, that was very interesting. Almost as interesting as the..."

Harry just let himself be dragged at Luna's side. She smelled divine! Her dainty hand was making his skin warm under his robes, and he just knew he was sporting a gobsmacked grin on his face. Hell, he didn't even feel the corset holding him in—he felt as if he could Apparate to the other side of the world, she made him feel so good.

"...and not to mention the Nargles. I can't wait to see if the newest strains of mistletoe are infested. Can you?" Harry blinked at Luna's expectant look.

"Ah, yeah. I guess." Harry reached up with his free hand and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't recognize where they were; he'd been daydreaming about Luna's voice and the heated dreams he'd tried so hard not to have at Ron and Hermione's. "So, where'd you bring me?" he asked as he took in the massive stone door covered in runes in front of them.

"I wanted to show you my office, Harry. It's very lovely, and there's something there that might belong to you." Luna reached out with her right hand and touched three random runes—or so it seemed to Harry—and then said something in Gibberish, he thought. The door seemed to shrink a bit, move back, and then dissolve like so much fog on a sunny day. Luna guided him through the doorway—"Best not touch the sides, Harry, the stones are feeling a bit mean to strangers today.—and he turned at the scraping of stone against stone to see the door rematerialize behind them.

"So this is where the magic takes place, eh?" Harry murmured.

"Oh, Harry, that's so sweet." Luna's hand slipped into Harry's as they walked a strangely fluid and shifting corridor. "You know Mr. Disney was a Muggleborn wizard, don't you? You should see the artefacts he willed to the Unspeakables." Luna giggled at Harry's incredulous face. "It's really true, Harry. How else could he have done all those amazing effects?" Harry grinned in response.

"So, which one is yours?" he asked indicating a group of doors that looked like they'd grown out of the stone. There was an ivy vine fluttering around the frames and soft chirping that slowly stilled as they stood there.

"Mine's the one with the lily carved on the door handle," Luna said softly. "Put your hand on it and you'll see why it's so special." She left go of Harry's hand and waited. Harry reached out and curled his hand around the handle and sighed. The scent of lilies of the valley and a startlingly clear image of his mother appeared in his mind. He held on for almost five minutes and then let go.

"That's...wow!" he softly exclaimed. "Thank you for that." Harry turned to his true half, still a bit stiff in his busk and attempted a small bow. "How did you know I'd see my mum?" He reached out and pulled Luna close enough to loosely embrace. She sighed into his chest.

"I saw my mother, and thought that you might be able to as well. It's nice to share something with you, Harry," Luna said in a low voice. She felt Harry's response to her tone of voice and whispered, "I still have to show you the inside..." She reached past Harry and opened the door.

~*~*~

Harry hadn't known what to expect of an Unspeakable's office, but a lush paradise wasn't anywhere near what he'd been thinking. Just past the door was a small stone circle, a blue flame wavering over an empty cauldron, and an intricately carved wooden bench, worn smooth by years of use. They stepped inside and Luna pushed the door closed. With a barely heard snick, Harry heard it shut and turned to see it practically disappear into the wall—which was covered in some blue-grey shale tiles.

"How...?" Harry began asking.

"Magic, Harry," Luna pulled Harry farther into her office with a soft smile. She pointed into a corner, drawing Harry's eyes toward a box. "This is what belongs to you."

Harry stepped forward and dropped awkwardly to his knees, the busk keeping him stiff and limiting his ability to bend forward. He growled a bit as the busk bit into his armpits and the joints of his hips, but the box seemed to call out to him. He reached forward and under the clasp keeping the box closed and flipped the top open. Inside something was glowing, pale, soft light that was accompanied by the scent of evergreens and cinnamon. Harry reached in and pulled up a quilt, the stitches glowing around each block. He raised it to his face and smelled his mother (oddly enough, roses and oranges), his father (musky perspiration and metallic), and someone else (sharp, acidic, and yet sweet).

"I can smell them," he whispered as he pulled his face away.

"I know. I knew it when I found the chest in the nuptials room." Luna gracefully slid to her knees beside Harry and reached out to trace one of the quilt blocks, a starry field with a quarter moon. "Do you know what this means, Harry?"

"Ah, no," he said with a small grin, "but I hope you'll tell me." He pulled more of the quilt out of the box. There were cauldrons with fumes limned in glowing thread; brooms were crossed over a Snitch with fluttering, glowing wings; and there were even Lions wreathed with Snakes prowling some of the blocks.

Petting one of the Lions and its accompanying Snake, Luna began speaking. "Some people, Muggleborns mostly, recorded unconventional families this way. No books, no parchments, just something that could passed down with all the warmth of the maker's love and imbued with protective magic in each thread." She put her hand on Harry's as she continued. "I've only seen one other, and it was over two hundred years old." At Harry's enquiring eyebrow, Luna grinned. "It belonged to Professor Dumbledore's family, if that means anything."

Harry's jaw dropped as he tried to unscramble the thoughts her words had brought forward. "You're telling me I'm more of a freak than I—"

"No!" Luna interrupted him, her tightening over Harry's and then dragging it to her chest where she pressed it over her beating heart. "No," she repeated softly, "you're not a freak. You're a product of love, Harry, and very, very special. I wouldn't have my true half anything else." She looked into Harry's eyes. "I wouldn't want you any other way."

It was awkward turning toward Luna, but Harry squirmed and shifted until he was in front of her, both of them still on their knees. "Tell me exactly what this means, please, Luna?" He held out the quilt.

"Someone helped your parents conceive you, that's all, Harry. It took a lot of trust and sacrifice to do it. See here," Luna traced over one of the cauldrons, Harry's eyes following her finger as it flowed over the wavering fume outlines. "This cauldron is gold, and the fumes are blue. That's for strength, perhaps your mother or father needed something extra. If you look at that cauldron, it's brown, so that's for Earth, and fecundity. So your mother needed help keeping you."

"You're telling me Snape, the man who made my life a living hell right up until he saved it, helped my parents get pregnant?" Harry's tone was disbelieving, but still he held onto the quilt tightly.

Luna smiled and reached out to run a finger not over the quilt but the edge of Harry's corset, the smile deepening when he shivered under her exploration. "Why else would he be so hard on you, Harry? Professor Snape was a very complex man. Why, he even took care of me when I was a child." Harry's surprised laugh had Luna putting her hand flush against his sternum. "He was always quite kind to me, and I could see how proud he was of you, even when he wasn't supposed to show it." Luna began unbuttoning Harry's shirt, her quick fingers undoing the fastenings so quickly, Harry was surprised to feel her hands on his chest, just above the stiffness of his busk. His heartbeat sped up.

"Do you know that true halves that come from adversity are the strongest couples, or triples?" Luna's eyes were trained on Harry's chest as she spoke. Harry just held still and leaned into her caresses. "It's said that if you have one of the woven records, your children will always be loved, too." She kissed Harry's chin, her other hand cupping his jaw. "Would you like to find out if that's true, Harry?" she murmured against his skin.

Harry finally let go of the quilt and reached out to pull Luna into an embrace. "Oh, yes, please..." he breathed out before kissing her.

It was nothing like his dreams. It was more... Luna's lips were full and sweet, as if she'd just eaten strawberries and cream. Her mouth was warm and inviting, and Harry's tongue pushed in, stroking hers as he mapped each tooth and then coaxing her tongue to visit his mouth in return. The air became warmer, richer, filled with the scent of growing things, of life. Harry moaned and pulled Luna closer, closer ... "Damn it!" he muttered against her lips when the rigid busk wouldn't let him press her chest to his. "This won't work," he bit out.

"Hush, Harry, I think I know how to do this," Luna whispered throatily. She stood up gracefully and before Harry's wondering eyes, she began to strip off her robe, and then her underrobe, and finally a long, very sheer shift to reveal a bustier of palest blue and a small triangle of the same material beneath.

Harry licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. His hands curled into fists to prevent himself from tearing the undergarments from Luna's body. "Oh, tell me this isn't a dream..." he whispered roughly. The sound of cooing birds and a faint breeze blew across Luna and he whimpered at the sight of lickable goose pimples.

"Harry, love, if you lie back, I can banish your clothes and leave the healing busk," Luna said with a soft smile. Seeing her dressed in her bustier, panties and nothing else, Harry couldn't deny her.

He manoeuvred himself onto his back, muttering swears at every laboured movement until he was finally supine. Then his mouth dropped open as Luna stepped over him, feet on either side of his hips. "Oh, Merlin, I've died and gone to heaven," he whimpered.

He felt better when his clothing was gone but the Hugging Busk for Healthful Healing was as it had to be, with his very interested, very hard cock dripping and knocking on the bottom of it as he gazed up Luna's long, shapely legs to the dampened silk of her panties and then up her own corset to her rounded, perky breasts, nipples tied with bows of midnight blue ribbon.

Luna laughed at the look on Harry's face as she palmed her breasts, avoiding the bows. "I wanted to give you a special Yule gift, Harry. I hope you like them." She pushed her breasts together and watched Harry's eyes cross behind his glasses. She dropped her wand on the floor near Harry's head.

"Nguh..." Harry squeezed his eyes shut and moaned. One hand was sliding up Luna's calf while the other was grasping the base of his cock in an iron grip. "Please, please tell me you're going to sit on my cock soon so I can open my presents..." he hissed out.

As graceful as always, Luna knelt over Harry, her barely covered, damp snatch bumping into his cock and fingers. She leaned forward to kiss him, trapping his hand between them and rolling her hips. Harry's busk meant he was at her mercy, turtled as he was, but her weight, the scent of her, the press of her skin on his meant he didn't give a fuck. His free arm wrapped around Luna's back and brought her close, the contrast between silky smooth skin and rigid stays a pleasant diversion for those times he decided they should breathe.

The kisses were drugging, and the sweat was building up between Harry's hand and his cock; there was a bit of slippage and he groaned.

"Oh, Harry, we should take care of that," Luna whispered against his mouth. She leaned farther forward, pressing her breasts against Harry's face, and he couldn't resist—Harry turned his head from side to side and began mouthing them, his tongue playing with the ribbon-tied nipples. Luna arched her back and enjoyed the sensations of Harry's whiskers rubbing into her sensitive skin and his tongue swirling around her nipples and then suckling..... "Oh, Merlin, Harry," Luna gasped, "so good."

"Mm, you're telling me." Harry was poking his pinkie at the damp triangle of silk between Luna's legs, wriggling it until it was past the silk and brushing back and forth in Luna's slit. "Why don't you scoot down and make it better for both of us?" he asked in a strained voice.

Harry's face was flushed, as well as was his chest. He was panting slowly, his hips trying to push up, but the busk kept him on the floor. Luna took pity on him and with a quick kiss and a hummed string of incantations, her panties were banished and there was a bit of lube on Harry's cock.

"That should heh-heh-help," Luna stuttered as she slowly ground down against Harry's cock and hand, enticing that aforementioned cock to ever so carefully slide inside her body. They both stopped breathing as gravity pulled Luna down Harry's penis until it met her hymen and Harry's eyes widened impossibly.

"You're a virgin?" he choked out. His hands were on Luna's hips, ready to push her up.

"Not...anymore," Luna said past gritted teeth. She moved her knees out and Harry's cock pushed through, filling her completely. She curled her fingers into the top of Harry's busk, shivering and moaning over him. Instead of pushing her off, Harry bent his arms and brought Luna's face down to his for soft kisses and even softer words of thanks.

"You didn't have to, love," Harry whispered. "This is a really important gift you've given me." He let Luna lift her head and tried to roll his hips. When the glazed look left her face and she smiled, Harry smiled in response. "I'll cherish this always." Luna kissed his cheeks and his chin and then his nose, experimentally clenching and unclenching her muscles around Harry, and then finally, lifting up to slide back down. "And you're a wicked, wonderful girl, you know that, right?" he sighed out under her ministrations.

"I think I might." Luna inhaled deeply and rubbed against Harry's busk, the leather and wool making her feel even sexier. "I like leather, Harry. Did you know that?" She rolled her hips and arched her back, drawing up until only the glans was inside and then controlling her downward slide with rhythmic muscle work. Harry was dying under her, his fingers digging into her buttocks and corset.

"I like leather, too, Luna..." Harry murmured brokenly. "Silk's nice, too, 'specially when you're wearing it." He shut his eyes tightly and concentrated on curling his hips up, surprising Luna's next downward slide.

Their see-saw of rolling and curling hips went on for a good twenty minutes, Luna extracting as many groans, moans, and exhortations as she could stand until she couldn't take it. Fingers grasping the top edge of Harry's busk, Luna began speeding up, riding Harry, his encouraging words freeing her to sit up, arch back towards his knees and bounce on his cock with abandon.

"That's it, love, ride me," he ordered. "Take me, take all of it, as much as you need." Harry held Luna's hips tightly, sweat dotting his forehead and cheeks. He tried to lift her up and drag her down, pushing up as far as he could to meet her. "I've got you, Luna, I've got you. Never let you go, never," he gasped as she began to shake over him.

Luna's climax ripped through her, a surprise even though she knew she was moving toward it. She ground down into Harry's groin, her muscles rippling over his cock, encouraging him own finish. She fell onto Harry's chest, drawing in great gusts of breath, but without Harry's orgasm happening.

"Hey, darling girl?" Harry asked after a few minutes. "Think you've got a bit more in you?" He directed Luna to get up and turn around, and then lower herself back onto Harry's unwilted cock. "Let's see how this does it," Harry said, his fingers barely brushing her clitoris as he carefully curled his hips up and then back in an ever-increasing rhythm. Soon, Luna was bucking over Harry's hips once more, another climax shaking her. Harry joined her, fingers working her clit and the other hand's index finger knuckle-deep inside her arse. They flew apart together that time.

Harry carefully extracted his finger and grunted a thorough cleansing charm over it before pulling Luna back towards him. She lay over him, his cockhead just barely inside her vagina and his arms wrapped loosely around her.

"That was beautiful, Luna," Harry said after he got his breath back. "Is it always like this between true halves?"

Luna smiled at the ceiling—reflecting a perfect evening somewhere in the world—and shook her head, stray hairs catching on Harry's five-o'clock shadow. "I wouldn't know, but if the Bandersnatches are right, it's only this good between perfect true halves." She wove her fingers in-between Harry's and pressed them to her stomach. "We might even have made a child with how perfect."

Harry chuckled and then pushed away Luna's hair so he could suck a love-bite into her neck. "Well, I won't say no to trying again, and again, and again..." He curled his hips and pressed inside Luna a bit. "I'm nothing if not determined."

"Oh, Harry, that's one of the things I love about you." Luna sat up and began riding Harry's reviving cock again.

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'm also very, very glad you gave me those dreams..."

Luna paused and then went back to rocking on Harry's hips. "You knew?" she asked in a breathless voice as Harry's fingers fluttered at the point where he was entering her.

"Man Who Lived and all that rot aside, Luna, love, I can tell when I've been hit by magic, especially when it's such...good...magic..." Harry emphasised each word with a side-to-side shift and a hip curl, making Luna dig her nails into his kneecaps.

"Well, then, let's see how good you are at getting some magic into me," Luna challenged him with a bright laugh.

~*~*~

When Harry and Luna attended Neville and Millicent's Yuletide celebration a week later, he had to grin at Draco's preening as he and Xenophilius began talking about how lovely it was that Harry and Luna had finally found each other in the time of the Great Mistletoe Crisis. There was the odd aunt or two who thought Harry was Father Christmas' boy, seeing as how he was sporting red cheeks and red velvet robes. Mrs. Malfoy, who thought Harry should come talk to her about finding his true half without a sponsor, was waylaid by Kingsley Shacklebolt—and not looking at all unhappy about it—and then there was Ron and Hermione and Neville and Millicent, who glowed whenever anyone asked them about how Harry and Luna got together.

But, toward the end of the night, when one more person had commented on Harry and Luna's hand-holding and generally googly-eyed looks, George Weasley summed it up: "When a lad's laid flat, what's a lovely girl to do but sit down until he's rested?"