Harry/Luna
He sat on a threadbare sofa inside a house shaped like a rook. The last time he was here, an Erumpent horn exploded and provided him an escape from Death Eaters.
Luna held Harry’s hand on her lap. She, at least, seemed to belong there with her crimped pale hair and dirigible plum earrings. A cork necklace and spangled blue robes. Her mischievous blue eyes sparkled as she reached up and brushed the fringe away from his eyes.
“Harry and I are in love, Daddy.” She lied so easily, Harry wondered for a moment if they were, in fact, in love. “We want The Quibbler to announce it first.”
Xenophilius Lovegood stared at them for a long moment. His eyes were more guarded than his daughter’s, making Harry wonder if that was because of his part in the war or if Luna’s whimsy came from her mum.
They needed Xenophilius to believe them, though. It was the Lovegoods’ only chance to save their magazine after the public turned against them for publishing Voldemort’s propaganda.
“In… love?” Her father raised an eyebrow.
He didn’t believe them.
Harry’s palms began to sweat. He was a terrible liar.
“Yes, sir. I’m in love with your daughter. I’d marry her tomorrow if she’d agree.”
“You want to marry my Luna?”
Harry didn’t hesitate. “Oh, absolutely, sir. She’s brilliant.”
Xenophilius clapped his hands together as his ecstatic laughter echoed through the room. “My treacle and Harry Potter! To be wed!”
“Er…”
“This calls for tea!”
As Xenophilius left the room, Luna leaned over and whispered, “He’s going to tell the world we’ll be married. You remember we’re not actually dating?”
Harry hung his head, groaning. “I’m sorry, I panicked.”
Looking back, it isn’t hard to see how he ended up here.
Here, of course, meaning the forest. Surrounded by friends. Friends who can hardly look him in the eyes whilst he waits for his fake wife-to-be to walk down the dirt-covered aisle.
And the reason his friends can’t look him in the eyes?
Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood are getting fake married—as per tradition—entirely naked.