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Also, how does one make a Ron/Luna fic angsty? Ron/Luna is generally quite fluffy, but I was wondering if it's possible for it to become quite dark and angsty. I'm sure it can be achieved...but you know.
I've kinda pictured it like this. Attack it from a character angle. I would
use Ron's supposed "jealousy" from previous books, but who said the jealousy had to be over Hermione? I think it's cannonically sound to say that Harry and Hermione both see quite clearly Ron's hunger to be significant. Remember what JKR had Ron seeing in the mirror of Erised? He stood out from among his brothers. What if Ron were jealous of Harry's significance? Ron just wants to matter to somebody, to do something important with his life, a life he feels he's rubbish at.
I don't know if I'm particularly good at angst, and it's hard to write angst with a character like Luna because she hasn't really been shown to have a temper. But I imagine her sort of crying with Ron and getting mad at him at the same time, in a "don't you realize what a pain fame is?" kind of way. She'll say something like this, and it's kinda long:
"Ronald?" said Luna in a soft voice. "What's it like to be famous?"
Ron turned around. The very last person he expected to see at the edge of his family's pond, standing not ten feet away, was Luna Lovegood.
Ron stared at her as he spluttered, "I think you've got your Gryffindors crossed, Luna--Harry's the famous one...not me--I mean, that's just--"
"Yes, but you hang around with him so much," Luna interrupted quietly. "It must be lovely to know you've got a best friend like that, always there. You're always together, aren't you? Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the unstoppable Trio."
Ron winced inwardly at the dramatic way she said it. It was true, he decided.
They were famous. It was almost like a title, a Christening. He gave a short scoff.
"It hasn't always been that way, you know. Blimey, back in fourth year, Harry and I wouldn't speak for almost a full term. Remember the Triwizard Tournament? You probably didn't know Ginny that well back then, but I got bloody angry at Harry for being a champion. I thought he had put his own name in the Goblet of Fire and helped himself to more fame. Of course, after V-Voldemort came back, and I saw what he had to go through, I didn't want any more of it than what I had to take as his best mate. I may be rubbish at most else, but when it came to Harry I decided that I wanted to be there for him, wherever he went."
Stepping closer, Luna let out a shaky sigh. "Oh Ronald, you're not rubbish. He's very lucky to have a friend like you, and so is Hermione. Don't you know that?" She matched her gaze to his, willing him to understand. "Ron--" She took a step closer to him, and her shoulders shook as she lowered her eyes and continued. "I've never had any real friends. That's why the D.A. was so important to me, because it meant I belonged to something. Something that other people actually wanted to be a part of. I didn't have to look for my "stuff" anymore, or even think about the fact that it was missing." She looked up, and grey met blue for the second time.
"I didn't have to search for my belongings anymore, because I knew where my belonging was. I was a member of the D.A., and I was useful. I'd had an adventure." She punctuated the last word with a sweeping gesture. Her eyes froze as she looked at him, considering. "It was actually nice not to be known only by the rubbish list plastered on the nearest castle wall, or as the most flighty Quiddich commentator in the history of Hogwarts."
Ron grinned at the memory. "I told you, you were brilliant at that--"
She laughed lightly, silencing him. "Oh, please. If McGonnagal hadn't stepped in, it might as well have been in Gobbledegook." She turned her face down and away, as if trying to hide from the memory of it.
"Luna, for Merlin's sake! Why can't you just accept a compliment once in a while?" he said, annoyed. He strode over to her, grasping her shoulders. She tried to turn away, but he only held tighter. She felt his fingers on her chin, tilting her head up again. "Is it that hard to believe that someone might be willing to look beyond your label?"
She watched Ron's eyes soften a bit as he looked at her. Because she could feel tears gathering behind her own, she jerked her chin out of his grip and backed away. He would NOT see her cry.
She stopped within five feet of him and took a cleansing breath. No one had gotten this deep before, but she was ready for it. Her gaze snapped to his, and this time there were tiny fury lines between her eyebrows. "And what about YOU,
Mr. Weasley? she burst out. "You've been hiding behind labels your entire life, but most of them are self-made! How long will you stay down?"
Ron gaped at her, dumbstuck. He had never seen Luna mad before. Her temper was different from those he knew--not fiery and volitile, but cold and deadly, like the sting of an icy knife. It made her eyes wild and her features like marble. ###### if he was going to let her get the best of him.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know perfectly well what it means, Ronald," she said clear and low. "It means you've let your family dictate to you how worthy you are. You let them take the mickey out of Ickle Ronniekins because you showed them they could. You fought for significance--Charlie and Bill had the image, Percy had the brains, Fred and George had the pranks--and you certainly aren't the only Weasley female in seven generations. So where did that leave you? Soaking up the leftovers?" she finished, fuming.
Ron glared at her. How could she know how close that was to the truth?
He came closer to her, because he needed her to understand. "Luna--it was all I had." A defeated look came into his eyes then, a look of sadness that tore at her heart. His head drooped, and she wanted to gather him up. She stepped even closer, and laced her hands behind his neck. "Ronald, look at me." He did, but focused on the bridge of her nose.
"Do you know why I like to call you Ronald?" He looked at her in surprise, and she pressed on. "It's because it's unique. It's you. Something untarnished by your lot in life. Ronald hasn't been cloaked in second-hand dress robes. Ronald never had to scrounge for money, or feel ashamed of his heritage. Ronald's light isn't snuffed out by the shadow of Harry Potter. Ronald plays Quiddich like a rock star, once he remembers who he is. It's because, I can guaruntee you, there probably isn't another wizard alive who can stand up under the pressure of a name like Ronald Bilius Weasley."
Against his will, Ron's face broke into a grin. "I know. Mental, isn't it?"
She smiled softly then, and it was so beautiful it broke his heart. He decided he had no words to let her know how much this had meant to him, so he bypassed words and went straight to showing. He kissed her.
It was long, and slow, and all his own. She was here, and it was like everything else just melted away. How could he have ever thought she was loony? She made so much sense it scared him, and yet he had never known her until the barriers came down.
They broke apart, and he smiled into her eyes. "Luna Lovegood. Looks like your "love" was "good" for me, eh?"
She smirked. "Likewise, Mr. Weasley. After all, the princess has to be saved by her king, right?"
Ron chuckled. "Checkmate."