Were We Blind?

At Dinner

"But I don't wanna wear it! Loon, gerroff me!"

"But - the sparkles keep the nargles away, Ron. They're already affecting your mood."

"I don't think its the bloody nargles affecting my mood. I'm not wearin a blasted disco ball on my head. Look, sweetheart - Harry's here."

Luna spun around, her eyes focused on Harry with her usual dazed expression. "Oh! Hello, Harry. You look uncomfortable. Ron, why do you think Harry looks uncomfortable?

"Hey mate, where's Hermione?"

"Outside." Harry shrugged. "She's coming. Oh, hi Luna. You look very - orange?"

"Do you like it? I stained my old curtains with pumpkin juice. I really like the affect, don't you? It's okay, I can tell that you find it odd."

"No, it's brilliant!" Harry assured her. Meanwhile Ron searched him with a worried expression. "Hermione's just outside with Dean. I think they're ending it." Harry explained. And by the muffled sounds of it, matters were already finished outside.

"Oh, don't flatter yourself! I am so TIRED of you, Dean, you couldn't read a woman's emotions with your glasses ON, and you wonder why you never understand - just go! GO!" Hexes flew about outside, making sharp, almost metallic sounds and sometimes hitting the front door. "AND HAVE A BLOODY GOOD LIFE IN FRANCE! WHY DON'T YOU GO AND SNOG A DEMENTOR - YOU ABSOLUTE - FRUITCAKE!" After a few baleful seconds it sounded like Dean had disapparated from Luna and Ron's vegetable patch outside. Harry walked to the door and opened it, to find Hermione curled up at the step, sniffling.

He sat down tentatively and lent her an awkward arm. "That sounded bad."

"He still has some coming," she croaked. Harry privately sympathised with Dean, Harry wouldn't put himself in Hermione's bad books for a gold clock.

"He's very strange isn't he?" Luna's contemplative voice interrupted them, Harry looked up at her, she was leaning against the door frame, staring at a vacant spot in the front garden where it was indicated Dean had been (exploded pumpkins and a rather messy hedgerow).

"Why?" 

"If he wanted to come in for dinner he could've just asked, but I guess he seemed to enjoy those pumpkins."

"Er, no, Luna!" They laughed.

"...sorry about your Garden, I'll fix it after dinner," Hermione promised guiltily.

"Oh, I'd rather you didn't. I quite like this perspective of the vegetable patch, it's mysterious."