Work Text:
Luna Lovegood felt that today was the best day of her life—all twenty-two years of it.
Every day truthfully was joyful when her heart belonged to Harry Potter. Today was her birthday. They were together having a picnic outside her family home in a valley of snapdragons and marigolds. Her father was inside cooking a feast for their dinner. The elder Lovegood practically shoved out of the kitchen with a filled basket.
The pair happily munched on treacle tarts, sipping on tea & were saving her favorite pudding for dessert. Harry smiled at her keenly; his dark brown head rested on Luna’s lap as she ran her nimble fingers through his strands. His face was very relaxed, and he absently rubbed circles on his stomach. Now, he did a deep, contented sigh.
He had been acting a bit peculiar lately. His green eyes were always watching Luna’s face intently, and it happened so often that it even made her question if she had food on it at dinner the other night. Harry would blush and look away when they made eye contact for too long. His eyes were closed, but his lashes fluttered open to meet her cornflower blue gaze; he cleared his throat and said seriously, "I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." His usual, more confident demeanor wasn’t in his voice, but it just made him more endearing to her.
She felt a rush of adoration for him and knew she loved him, too. Luna bit her lip and smiled at him softly, “I love you as well, Harry." He grinned at her happily and said, “And it's not Nargles befuddling my brain." Luna looked at him, slight confusion in her voice, "Nargles have nothing to do with love, Harry." He chuckled and quickly drew her down to him until her torso draped over him, his arms around her.
Harry buried his head in the crook of her neck; Luna pressed a soft kiss, feeling his smooth cheek against her lips. She wrapped her thin arms around him, and she said hopefully, "I want to get married out here." His eyes were closed firmly, and he murmured, beginning to fall asleep, saying, "Sure, love, let me ask your father first." His face softened, and his grip relaxed on her frame as sleep lulled him.
She giggled, her shaking shoulders keeping him awake, causing him to grumble, “Don't move pillow-Luna." His girlfriend cuddled against him, whispering, "My father gave his approval when we were still in school, Harry." He barely heard her as he drifted into a Luna-filled dream with her wearing a white dress and smiling at him in this valley — as his wife.