disclaimer : These are not my characters except to play with. They belong to J. K Rowling.

warning : My Luna, or the way I envision her, or write her may not be the way you perceive her. An advance warning. :D

accidentally in love
Tales of Rolf and Luna

part 1 : first sight.

If you must know how it all happened, then don't pay attention to snatches of interesting conversations or raucous laughter, or of snogging that happened in the corners of Three Broomsticks. At midnight, an unnatural sombre silence would steal over this boisterous lot, because at midnight, they would all sit in silence and honor those who had fallen in the Battle of Hogwarts before toasting to their hero, the Boy Who Lived.

Now, pay attention to the dirty blonde hair in the corner, picking airily at her Butterbeer cork necklace, a seemingly unconscious habit when she is in deep thought. Got the picture?

Now look at the young man, sitting on a table diagonal from hers, slamming his drink down to the table, spilling its content and declaring that he would walk, in a line, one foot in front of another, to prove that he was not, in fact, drunk.

"I have always wondered" he announced to no one in particular, in a manner of satisfying a scientific curiosity. "Why does inebriation hamper our ability to walk in a straight line. I want to discount that theory right here, right now". Believe you me, the narrator is being kind by letting you read what he had said instead of what came out as drunken slurs in speech that no one, except the blonde woman payed attention to, snapping out of her reverie.

He staggered and fell at his third attempt, but he was caught by the her. She had her arms wrapped around his waist and pulled his hand to wrap it around her shoulders so she could give him better support, and she whispered, "You know, I have always wondered that too but I have never been drunk enough to test the theory."

The man turned to look at her and there was an uncomfortable clenching in the pit of her stomach as he stared at her, then he asked, with an honest curiosity. "Why not?"

The woman smiled at him, even when the queer feeling told her to look down and blush when the man stared, but she looked at his face, wondering why she felt that way, why she felt compelled to obey it, even with Firewhiskey's smell from his lips and the stubbles she can count, " I will drink my first Firewhiskey on the day I catch Crumple Horned Snorkack."

She lowered him back into his chair.

The young man looks at her, the serene unaffected disposition, the blonde hair that fell to her waist, and the light in those wide eyes, he thinks he has seen a goddess. And here, he credits it as great amount of self control (yeah right, the narrator feels inclined to add) despite the inebriation, that even though he wants to pull her to him and snog her senseless, he does not do so.

Alright, alright, let us skip the honoring of the heroes, toasting Harry Potter , raising glasses in his name. Let us also skip where the young man is handed a Sobering Potion by Rosmerta the barmaid, who believed, perhaps a little fiercely, that everyone should be able to pay their respects when the clock strikes twelve and not babble like bumbling band of baboons. The chatter would die out, the silence would take over, the toast is murmured as everyone files out the bar to the summer night, looking at the twinkling castle in the distance, and fireworks in the sky.

As it goes in these stories, he sought her out and said, "I'm sorry. It does not usually hit me as hard."

He was not sure whether he was talking about the alcohol or the anniversery, but he was sure she understands anyway. " Thats alright" she said, kindly.

"Rolf" he held out a hand. "Rolf Scamander".

There was a flash of recognition in the young woman's eyes, and Rolf could feel himself shrink (oh grandson of Newt Scamander!), but she takes his hand. "I expect I'll be running into you soon, Mr. Scamander."

"Yes" he said, stupidly. "Run into me soon."

part 2 : when you try to fish information from your best friend.

Charlie Weasley was laughing. "Luna Lovegood? Yeah I know her, alright."

Rolf waited for information.

"Haven't you ever read The Quibbler?" Charlie asked, curiously. "No, I haven't" Rolf replied. "Is she a journalist?"

( He was filled with apprehension at the thought of her being a journalist. They always seem less interested in his profile as a naturalist and proceed to describe his "rebellious" beginnings in romanticized fashion. )

"Her father owns it. I used to read it when I was back home. Lunacy at its best, I tell you. Inoffensive mostly." Charlie grinned.

"I think you lost the right to call anything lunatic, Weasley." Rolf quipped. " As I remember, you watch beast pornography."

"Academic interest, Scamander" Charlie said, lazily as he proceeded to finish his Butterbeer.

"So tell me about Luna" Rolf persists.

Charlie yawned. "Her father owns The Quibbler, studied in the same year as my sister, who, by the way, is weirdly territorial about her friends, so you might not want to cross her. Anyway, she is a naturalist as you are, made famous by discovery of Wrackspurts. Used to go out with Neville Longbottom the Sword Wielder, who is now married to the lady who owns the Leaky Cauldron. Her ambition is to prove the existence of a creature called Crumple Horned Snorkack.."

"What do you know, Charlie" Rolf was grinning. " You actually pay attention to the gossip."

"Oh I do" Charlie said, sincerely. "Too bad I wasn't attracted to Luna though. She would have been fun to go out with".

"You weren't?" Rolf was doubtful. Luna Lovegood was a goddess. He, at the moment, couldn't picture what it was like not to be attracted to her. Of course, as Harry Potter would tell you, dear reader, not being attracted to Luna Lovegood would make you think she had straggly dirty blonde hair and had protuberant, "mad", pale eyes. Whether a disinterested viewpoint or an interested view point is the truth, that is for readers to discern.

"No, I wasn't. She is my sister's age. That thought puts a damper on any feelings whatsoever."

"Or, what concerns you is that she is your sister's friend"

There was a pause.

"Sod off, Scamander. I'm not scared of the sister."

"Whatever you'd like to believe, Weasley."

note : I always thought I'd put this one up when my outline for chapter 2 is more defined than the snippets I have done, but I decided not to wait for it anyway. Read and review. :)