Thank you, arynwy, for beta'ing.
Catching Luna (PG; Harry/Luna; 971 words): Harry finds that catching Luna is a one-part process.
The erotic treatment that Luna had recommended was a quadragintesimal one: a forty-fold process by which one might prepare oneself for, experience, and hold an orgasm (or orgasms, as the case might be; Luna said the treatment took people in different ways). Harry thought it sounded perfectly horrible; he couldn't imagine that much pleasure. He was pretty sure that Luna had been taking the piss, but because one never knew with her, he avoided the nondescript-looking storefront to which Luna had given him the direction when he arrived at his holiday destination. Nearby, however, he found a Quidditch supply shop; he stepped in to find out if the owners knew where to find a pick-up Quidditch game or two, and ended up leaving with a new Golden Snitch and the address of a warded park, which wasn't quite as public as the Muggles in the area believed.
His glamour securely in place, he ended up passing his first afternoon in a more suitable form of sweaty fun than being, well, "forty-folded," for want of a better term, and then there was drinking with his Quidditch mates. At some point, he mentioned what Luna had told him about the "treatment," and the other blokes, most of whom were a good deal older than he was, laughed.
Dennis, one of the beaters for his team, said, "That sounds like a witch's trick."
"And you'll find it colder than a witch's tit if you tell her you went there when you get back," another player, Andrew told him. "Any witch not interested in other witches who says that sort of thing to a man is interested in, what did you call it? Ah, right—forty-folding him herself."
Harry had a lot to think about by the time he returned to the hotel. It had been months since the war's end, and he'd tried to enjoy that time. Only, how could he have, really? Ginny hadn't understood his "Snape fascination," as she'd called it, and that, and the fact that he'd tried to protect her by leaving her well out of things had been enough to end their fledgeling relationship. He supposed he was more upset by Mrs Weasley's disappointment than anything else.
But she seems to like Neville, Harry thought, wishing Ginny and Neville well.
The issue of Luna still bothered him, though. She'd never said anything about liking him. She'd right much acted the way she'd always had towards him—except for the weird treatment suggestion, of course. He wondered what Hermione might say about it, but then quickly set the idea of asking her aside. Hermione was too taken up with her studies and Ron to care about his love life, and she'd worried about him enough. There was nothing for it: no matter that he'd agreed with Luna that he needed a rest, he didn't think he'd get any without first talking to her, and he found that he missed her, even though he'd been gone for less than a full day.
Luna was in the garden surrounding what had been her odd home when Harry Apparated to the property. Her expression was sad until she noticed him approaching her.
"Harry! That was fast. I didn't know two weeks' holiday could be taken in a day."
"I was, but not anymore now that you're here," she said, hugging him.
Perhaps it was the way her breasts squished with a happy solidity against his chest. Perhaps it was the floral scent of her hair. Harry didn't know why, but he found that all his missing of Luna had become his wanting of her, and she seemed not to mind because she kissed him back with great enthusiasm.
"How'd you know about that place?" he asked, when they broke their embrace.
Luna's eyes darkened. "You went there?"
"Er, no, no, of course not. I came here, didn't I? I was just curious, is all."
"It's one of the places listed in our monthly 'Exotic Destinations' column," Luna explained. "I've always been curious to know what a quadragintesimal sex ritual would entail. I thought it might be a safe adventure for you. Well, I hoped it would be. It was better than imagining you going off to shag forty different girls under your new glamour charm."
"Oh, right!" Harry said, blushing as he removed the charm, which she'd taught him. "I don't want to shag forty different girls, and, er, as far as the safe adventure goes, would you mind very much if we skipped it?" Harry moved his hands to rest on Luna's hips. "I'm not ritual's biggest fan, and I'd sort of like to try the thing once, normal sex, I mean, to see if I'm any good at it."
He flushed miserably, not having meant to be so blunt.
"Are you inviting me to go on holiday with you so that we can shag?"
"Yes?" Harry asked more than said, hoping he wouldn't offend Luna.
Harry was still gaping when Luna returned from the tent that was her temporary home while the repairs to hers were being made with a bag.
"What's the matter? You're not sorry you asked, are you?"
"No! I just, I mean, I just thought catching you might be at least as difficult as catching a Snitch. But you just agreed."
Suddenly, Luna's expression became rather solemn. "I have a secret to tell you, Harry."
"What is it?"
"Not all girls fly away." Luna grinned. "But I do like the idea of being caught. We should try that."
By the end of their holiday—from which Harry found himself recovering by taking yet another holiday, this time with Luna as her assistant while she was on a Quibbler assignment—Harry was almost ready to consider a little adventurous ritual.
But only if I can enjoy it with Luna.