Harry collapsed into Ron's room with a weary sigh. "He's making me do it," he said blandly. "I thought it was supposed to be Voldemort out to get me, not Dumbledore."

"It's a rough break, mate," Ron commiserated. "I'd tell him to sod off, if I were you."

"It's a good idea. But we have to make all these bloody contacts. I didn't think this job went with politics." Harry wrinkled his nose. "I have to go to this feast and dance business," he said. "And I have to have a date."

"Dumbledore told you to have a date?"

"No. That was Lupin's idea. Said I'd like it better with someone my own age. Then Dumbledore said it would look better, and next thing I know, I'm expected to have a date." He gritted his teeth.

"Well... er... Ginny's still going with Dean and... er... " Ron glanced nervously at the ground, his eyes drifting back and forth across the laces of Harry's trainers.

"I wasn't going to ask Hermione," Harry assured him, not bothering with his usual pretense on the subject, the one where he pretended not to know that this was Ron's major concern. "D'you know how to reach Luna?"

Ron looked up very suddenly. "Er... Luna? Lovegood?"

"Yeah. She lives near you, doesn't she?"

"Yes, but... you were going to ask Luna?"

Harry shrugged. "It occurred to me."

"Luna Lovegood."

"Yes."

"Okay, mate. I guess... Why?"

"I don't know." But that wasn't true, not really. He took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the camp bed that Mrs. Weasley had permanently installed in Ron's room for him. "It's just... five of you came with me to the Department of Mysteries. I know four of you, and I know why you came. But Luna? Why did she come? What makes Luna tick?" Hearing it aloud, he shook his head. "Excuse the pun."

"Right."

"I mean, haven't you wondered why she wears those corks for a necklace, or the radishes in her ears?"

"Not really."

He shrugged again. "I suppose it's just... if I really do need to take a date... maybe it would be a good chance to find out. About those sorts of things. I know, it's mad."

"Barking," Ron agreed, then appeared to rethink the situation. "I mean... er... well, if you fancy her... then... "

"Then I should ask?"

"Well, maybe. If it's not too complicated, mind. If you were, say, friends with Luna, and didn't want to risk it, you shouldn't. That would be a bad idea. But if you just want to get to know her and so on..."

"That's about the sum of it."

Ron shook his head. "Hermione's going to think you've cracked, mate."

"Probably. But I'll ask anyway. She'll probably say no. It's you she fancies."

"Right."

Harry didn't bother answering this.

Luna blinked her large, protruding eyes, apparently not quite registering what Harry had said. "I'm sorry?" she asked.

"I know," Harry said. "It sounds dull. Bunch of bloody Ministry types dancing waltzes and eating bland food, probably. I guess you wouldn't want to go."

"I... er... did you ask me on a date?"

"Well... sort of. I mean, if that's... it could just be, well, going together. Doing me a favor so I would have someone to talk to. Without the date business. If you don't want... date business."

"Well, I... if you... perhaps I could... er, talk about what?"

"Well, for starters, I haven't the faintest idea what a Crumple-Horned Snorkack is, other than Hermione doesn't believe in them."

"I'm going to find one," Luna said, her mouth pursed in an oddly dignified--and rather cute--way. "Really, I am. I'm sure they exist."

"I didn't say I didn't believe. I just really don't know what they are. I reckon Hagrid would. You should talk to him."

She looked at him dubiously. "He doesn't seem to know much."

"He's getting better as a teacher. And he does know his creatures. If it's out there, he probably knows about it." He considered it. "He's probably had one for a pet."

"Right." She bit her lip. "You're not... fooling me? Are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I just... you're... well, you're... and I'm... Do you know who I am?"

"I'd like to find out."

"I'm Loony," she said apologetically. "If you go with me, they'll... be mean to you."

"As opposed to how kind and gentle they were last year? When you were the first person to stick by me, other than Ron and Hermione and Neville? I mean, even Ginny didn't say anything right out loud before you did."

"Ginny, right. She fancies you."

"She used to. She doesn't anymore."

Luna let out only a single bark of laughter, but it transformed her face. Whatever she was thinking apparently amused her greatly. "If you say so."

"And anyway, I know you fancy Ron... right?"

Her face turned as red as the radishes she wore on her earbobs. "I... well..."

"It's all right if you do."

"I reckon if he fancied me back, you wouldn't be asking." Harry didn't answer, and she raised an eyebrow. "Ravenclaws aren't stupid, you know."

"Well, maybe I fancy you," he said firmly. "And anyway, it... well, it wouldn't need to be about fancying. We could just talk. Get to know one another." Harry's heart was beating double-time. He wished she would just say no--or yes, whichever--and end the suspense. It wasn't fair for this to fall only to boys. "It's just a feast and a dance in Diagon Alley. That's all. Put on a pretty dress robe, sit there and be nice to a bunch of adults who'll keep bothering us."

"As appealing as that sounds..."

"Please, Luna."

She frowned at him. "You're really not playing a joke on me?"

"I'm really not."

She leaned in very close, and he could smell the kippers she'd had for breakfast on her breath. There was a small zit forming on her hairline. Her mouth was pretty and full, and her eyes an interestingly pale shade of blue. "You're not," she said. "You can tell, you know. If a person is lying, then it makes their inner humors change, and it shows in the face. My father did an article about that last year."

"Er... all right."

"I'll go then," she said confidently.

"Oh. Good."

Harry turned to head back out for the long walk back to the Burrow, but Luna caught his arm. He turned to find her looking at him oddly.

She bit her lip. "Harry, I don't suppose... if, er... well, if I did want date business..."

"Anything you'd like."

"Even a... " She shrugged, blushing. "You know."

Harry smiled, feeling nowhere near as nervous as he would later when he reconsidered all of this. He bent forward and kissed her briefly on the lips. They were dry and warm, and tasted like fish, which was infinitely better than tasting like tears. She blushed.

"I'll pick you up at five-thirty," he said. "And I'm sorry that it's going to be a dull evening."

"It won't be," Luna said. "At least I hope not."