What is Left When Everything Else Falls Down?

A/N: Don't own Potterverse. Just play there.

Instructions on How to Dance

By: AR Taloff/ Fenrir

Chapter IV: What is Left When Everything Falls Down?

Luna walked home, wearing workout clothes and a pair of tennis shoes that she had owned for several years. All she had taken was a five minute run to get herself sweaty again, then had stopped and walked the rest of the way. Remus would never guess what she was doing.

The night had gone well. She and Gregory were a little off, but that would change once Neville returned. Neville and her weren't as proficient as some, but their base of trust was always there, in their steps. They would be able to work on both when he came back from New Zealand.

Jogging up the set of stairs to the flat, she unlocked the door and looked at the scene before her.

The table in the kitchen was set deliciously with two Cornish hens and green beans, a fresh loaf of French bread, and some rice dish. On closer inspection, one wineglass was missing, and the candles were burnt low. The food was no longer steaming hot and the butter for the green beans was slightly congealed.

Oh, piss it. Remus had asked if I planned to go to the library tonight, and I had said no. Shit.

Remus watched from their couch as Luna had come in, carrying a rucksack and wearing jogging clothes. Her long hair was braided again, and she smelled faintly of sweat and something else, something he never could put his finger on, but it always was there. He had asked her if she was going out, she had told him no. It was simple that way. Two months had gone by since they had moved in. The moonrise was approaching, and last month he'd been at a conference, so he had wanted to warn her about how the routine usually went. Snape would show up, give him a potion every day, for four days before, four days after, the full moon. The newer potion allowed for Remus to participate in the world around him and caused less stress on his body.

So he made dinner all by himself, downing nearly half a bottle of wine and taking tastes of the different dishes while they cooked. Giddiness had driven him the whole way, or at least the gift in his pocket had.

He was beginning to love Luna. It hadn't taken too long to like her, to find her attractive, but there were things about her that stuck with him. Her dorky snort and giggle combination, her Jell-o dance, and her laundry shuffle were things he thought of all the time. The plan this weekend was to go get a cat, because she liked them. Remus had never had a pet before and took this as a new adventure, which was generally his entire life with Luna. Escapades and new experiences happened every day they spent time together.

So he'd made her dinner after buying the ring. It was only right.

But she hadn't shown up.

Watching her finger the linen napkins, he felt slightly vindicated that she was guilty looking.

Luna glanced up to see Remus watching her from the living room. He was dressed nice, the casual way he had been when they had met for their 'date'. His golden eyes glittered from the sparse candlelight, and she stood stunned at the strange feeling that him waiting and watching her that way left inside her.

Repressing it, she approached him, sitting on the arm of his chair. "I'm sorry."

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"Where is he?" Luna muttered eyeing her watch. She was going to be late.

Remus had asked her to wait before she left tonight, and still feeling the burn of guilt from two nights back, she'd agreed.

Stalking into the kitchen, she began watering the plants, carefully picking off any dead leaves with ease. Whatever is keeping him better be good. Gregory and I still need practice. It might be months away, but the tournament is approaching, and I've got to stay in shape. I can't practice during the day, or night, when I'm here. Sighing, she stopped for a moment and remembered that she was the reason for that. Nothing else.

Tamping that guilt down more, she continued pinching off leaves, but a gentle whoosh of hot air made her jump.

She turned, staring around the kitchen. Plates and cups were air drying in the strainer and the stove was clean, but the overhanging above the doorway was still swaying. Flickering a look to the open window, Luna lifted a hand to see if there was a breeze.

No luck.

Damn.

Remus always said something when he walked in the door, he never used the Floo network to come home anymore, so whatever had caused the breeze wasn't him. No one else knew where they lived, nor did they have their Floo address in the professor lists.

And I was too busy thinking to listen for a door. Where is my wand? Luna looked around, trying to find something to chuck at the intruder, if there was one. What do you mean, if? Didn't Ms. Jenkins downstairs say that there had been a weird bloke poking about and that Dorrie Evans's place had gotten broken into? She just lives down the way.

Hearing a creak in the living room she bit her lip. Well no creepy fellow is going to get in here without a fight. "Accio Wand," she whispered.

It zoomed to her just about the time a pair of black leather shoes and their owners stepped to the kitchen doorway.

"If you would refrain from ruining my shoes, Lovegood, I would greatly appreciate it," echoed the crabby and sarcastic Potions master. Snape began to lift the overhang and found a wand prodding him. Carefully moving back, he received a cold look from the blonde wielding the implement at his throat.

"What are you doing at my flat, Severus?" The question was delivered with a growl, and Snape felt unnerved by the anger writ on Lovegood's face.

Composing himself as best he could, he placed a single finger on the wand and moved it away from his jugular. "Could we dispense with the barbarism? I only came to give Remus the decoction. He wasn't at his study, and the elves seemed to think he went home."

Glancing about, he huffed out an annoyed sigh, then turned when the blonde said nothing. She had a skeptical look now, the wand safely at her side.

"Decoction? You have to give it to him? What decoction?"

Now in the irritating position of bafflement, Severus once again mustered sarcasm, gave a good eyeroll and lifted a brow. "To stop him from chewing your shoes and ruining your carpets once a month." Further frustrated by her lack of deduction skills, he added, "He's a lycanthrope."

Snape wasn't sure what he had been expecting from the mostly morose and spacey Divination substitute. It certainly was not near violent rage that stained her cheeks red and made her mouth a thin line, and he never knew she could poke so damn hard as her finger jabbed him right above the clavicle in a squishy spot he'd never known about.

"I KNOW that you pale, monotoned crow! I can't believe you MEN! All your sweet gestures and your NICE things, and you just waltz into new areas without THINKING OF ANYBLOODYBODY ELSE!" She jabbed him again. "Well, you can tell Mr. Lupin that I am going out and he can bloody well go to one of the nine hells with his 'talk.'"

Severus's jaw remained slack as she slammed down her wand onto the mantel, causing the pictures to rattle, and pulled open the door only to violently slam it shut.

Then the squishy spot started to ache.

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Severus was still wondering if Luna had a vicious aunt in her family when the door handle jiggled and a muffled voice shouted something about 'wedding' and 'New Zealand' with a few more curses added.

Finally the door sprung open and a petit brunette with two pigtails found Severus looking very dour in the middle of flat, still rubbing the throbbing squishy spot.

"Who on God's usually lovely green Earth are you? And why are you in Luna and Neville's flat? Are you her Uncle? Or her Dad? Did you use the key, because that's pretty tricky. It being locked still, and all."

Snape had never liked people who talked, which included generally everyone, so a girl he'd never met doing it was really vile, considering the recent poking. "Shut up, you silly girl! Silencio!"

She stopped talking, and Severus felt odd. That's strange. She didn't counter that. He noticed the dress bag in her hand next, and that the contents were glittery and white. Eyes flickered up to the girl who wasn't dancing about with fear in her eyes about not being able to utter a word. Maybe she was slow.

"Are you slow?"

She shook her head.

Severus shifted his eyes around the room. "Are you a witch?"

Another negative shake made his insides curl. Shit.

"Do you know about witches and wizards?"

The nod made his stomach uncurl a bit, but its contents, fresh tuna, rye, and a tomato, continued to curdle.

"Why are you here?"

She sighed with extreme exasperation and put the dress bag hand on her hip and pointed to her mouth with the free hand.

Severus straightened a bit and muttered around the growing stench of desperation and annoyance that was wafting up from the tight ball in his throat. "Finite Incantatem!"

Tucking some hair behind her ear, Bridget sighed. "Well, you're a pretty rotten uncle if you do that to every Maid of Honor who uses a hairpin to open the door." Her giddy laugh rang in the empty room.

Gritting his teeth, Snape barely controlled the urge to silence her, mostly by allowing any possible remarks from Dumbledore to enter his mind, especially ones about how a girl with a sparkly dress could even remotely hurt him badly. "I'm not her," Snape drew out the word with a disgusted sigh, "uncle."

"Well, then you must be Neville's. Where is that pudgy tosser anyways? I should fong him for not telling any of us that they moved. Good God but it's beautiful in here, don't you think? Anyways, I'm here to give Luna her final fitting. That girl is always running off, and I had to go through Lynette to find her. Then I heard Neville was off in New Zealand for a dig and thought, what the hell, girl night! After all, we can have an early bachelorette party!"

Bridget by and large had a very talkative family, and most of the discussions at reunions seemed to them as a perfect flow, but to any outsider, it was a cacophony of sound, wherein the only thing accomplished was giving everyone a reason to buy giant tubs of Ibuprofen. Well aware that a slower version of her stream of thought was probably in due order, she looked up, only to see the black haired man rubbing his collar bone. "Are you all right?"

Turning, still churlish with distaste for this whole situation and trying to find an alternate escape route before Lupin appeared and everything went to hell in a neat basket with plenty of flaming, ornately bagged shit, Snape grunted a negative response and then winced as a, "What is going on in here, Severus... Who is this girl?" was spoken at the still wide open door.

Shit.

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Luna waltzed with Gregory, enjoying the feeling of being led. Gregory's height was harder to get used to, and her feet were still giving him trouble, but they were getting into the movement, and their trust was growing. He'd asked her for a drink tonight, and Luna was still dodging his continued requests of dinner or lunch, saying she was busy with work, or she had to get home to call Neville. Greg was becoming more incessant, and she was sure he had more than just an inkling that Luna had been spouting lies. She had a feeling he knew and wondered if he would start putting her in the position of dating him to get him to shut up.

That would be incredibly tricky... she thought, finishing with a flourished spin. Smiling at him, she looked up to where Lynette had been sitting at the counter, talking to customers and watching her upper echelon students practice. A brunette was being pointed to where Greg and she were.

Bridget. Luna felt everything go numb and come back to life as she pushed past Greg and ran up to the only other person who knew about her magic life. "Bridge, it's so good to see you!"

Bridget looked sick to her stomach. "Why didn't you tell me, Luna? I'm so sorry."

Luna smiled and shook her head. "What do you mean, I..." voice trailing, she looked up and saw Remus. Snape was standing behind him, a delighted little smirk on his face.

Stepping back, Luna stammered "Re-Remus, I... uh..." With that she lost her breath and ability to speak as she felt every lie disintegrate before her eyes.

Jaw set, Remus looked around and saw a lanky boy walking up with a proprietary look in his eyes, smelled the room and knew this was where Luna went, this was the scent he never could place. Bridget had spilled the truth, not Luna. She'd told Remus about dancing, Neville, and Luna's brilliant little lies. It was all lies. In a frenzy he'd stalked into her room and found that box, the horrible box that started the deceit, and opened it, trying not to destroy everything inside it.

Pictures. Trophies. Newspaper cutouts and magazine articles featuring the pair. Luna's memories of Neville. He wanted to shred it all. Instead he asked where.

Bridget had asked who.

The older lady behind the counter walked up to him. "Are you a relative of Luna's, sir? We're so proud of her here. Greg, come over here and show Luna's... are you her uncle?"

Not turning to look at the woman, Remus strode up to Luna and grabbed her left hand, splayed her fingers. Pulling out the ring he wanted to give her two nights back, he roughly slid it on her fourth finger. "Greg won't be needed." His eyes glittered as realization began to dawn in Luna's face. "And I'm her fiancé."

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A/N: You're probably like, jeez, took you long enough! I hope this chapter is as good as the rest, and will try to update by the end of June.