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A/N: This short little one-shot is my Valentine’s Day present to everyone at both HPFF and Circle of Crones. It is dedicated specially to the following HPFF authors: pathetic_pettigrew, who coined the term “mungsquirgers,” UMBlueMusic, who made my lovely banner, and Jaydah, who came up with the following prompt (even if it was meant as a joke): “I want to see a story revolving around Goyle and Luna in a romantic setting. It is my wish to see a story with my favourite word, 'licentiousness', and my favourite colour, maroon... I dislike stories with Harry in them, so make sure he is not even around.” Hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except the plot and the lallamores.


The Quest for Lallamores


Gregory Goyle slumped upon the front steps of Hogwarts Castle, depressingly bored. While most of his fellow students seemed to view February fourteenth as a cause for happiness and celebration, to Gregory it remained the most loathsome day of the year. On a normal Hogsmeade outing, he would spend most of the day at Honeydukes with his best mate, Crabbe, dropping by the Three Broomsticks later for a few drinks. Today, however, all hopes of a good time had been dashed by a stupid girl.

Apparently, Daphne Greengrass had been so desperate for a date that she’d resorted to asking the lowest of the low. Almost. Gregory still didn’t have anyone, and he doubted he ever would. The Dark Lord would have to marry a Muggle before Gregory allowed himself to believe that a girl could ever look at him with anything other than revulsion.

Resting his chin on his pudgy hands, he stared into the distance, idly watching as a slender blonde girl roamed the grounds, occasionally stopping to peer closely at a small patch of grass. As she drew closer, Gregory groaned, recognizing her as the crazy Ravenclaw who hung out with the Weasel king’s sister.

Hearing his groan, the girl stood up abruptly, making her way over to where he sat, staring at the ground so intently that he jumped in surprise when she cleared her throat.

“Hello. Gregory, isn’t it?”

Gregory blanched. No one except his parents had ever called him by his first name. It felt… nice. Sensing that she was waiting for a reply, he nodded in agreement.

“Aren’t you usually with that obnoxious Seeker, Draco Malfoy?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“Why isn’t he with you now?”

“Went to Hogsmeade. Him and Crabbe both. It’s Valentine’s Day, you know.”

“Yes,” she replied dreamily. “Funny, though, I never knew that Malfoy was a homosexual…”

“Homa-what?,” Gregory echoed, perplexed. He felt certain he’d heard the term before somewhere, but as usual, he couldn’t recall what it meant.

“Homosexual. It’s a term for two people of the same gender who love each other romantically.”

“Huh? But… how…why does Malfoy always talk about hot girls, then?” Gregory found this girl very confusing, yet somehow intriguing. He wondered if all Ravenclaws were like her.

She stared at him oddly. “Didn’t you just say that Malfoy and Crabbe went to Hogsmeade together for Valentine’s Day?”

“Wha – NO! Not together. Crabbe went with Daphne Greengrass. Malfoy – I don’t even remember who he went with, he goes through girlfriends so fast.”

“Yes, he does seem a bit prone to licentiousness, doesn’t he?”

“Er… yeah,” Gregory blushed uncomfortably. He didn’t want to admit that he had absolutely no idea what the word licentiousness meant. Malfoy often made him feel stupid, but Crabbe had always been there, and they both knew that Malfoy did it on purpose. Here, for the first time in his life, someone was talking to him like an equal, expecting him to understand the longest words in the dictionary.

The simple fact that she wasn’t taunting him somehow made him feel even worse – he wanted to be able to live up to her expectations, proving that he actually was someone worth talking to, but he knew there was a reason he hadn’t been made a Ravenclaw. So he stayed silent, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn’t notice that he didn’t understand half of what she was saying. Miraculously, she seemed oblivious to his confusion.

“What’s your name, anyway?” he asked, breaking the silence which had settled upon the grounds.

“Luna Lovegood.”

“Oh. So you’re a pureblood, then. That’s good.” While Gregory struggled considerably in most school subjects, his knowledge of pureblood surnames was impeccable; his mother had drilled it into his head at an early age.

“Yes,” she replied absently, as if she could care less about her lineage.

Gregory frowned. “So… what are you doing for Valentine’s Day, then?” he ventured nervously. She was obviously free now, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a date later in the afternoon. For some reason he could not comprehend, he hoped she didn’t.

“Looking for lallamores, of course. I thought you were, too – that’s why I came over here.”

“Lallamores?” echoed Gregory. This was not the answer he’d expected.

“Yes. They only come out on Valentine’s Day, you know.”

“Oh… but what are they?”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you didn’t know. They’re maroon-colored insects which are particularly attracted to blades of grass exactly one and three-fifths of an inch in length. If you find one, it will grant you a wish.”

“Wow, that sounds really nice,” Gregory smiled, gazing at Luna in admiration. How on earth did she know all these things?

Luna looked taken aback.

“What’s wrong?” he exclaimed, hoping fervently he hadn’t somehow offended her.

“Nothing…” she murmured, eyeing him strangely. “You’re just the first person I’ve talked to that actually believes they exist, that’s all.”

“Of course I believe they exist,” Gregory stated proudly. The last thing he wanted was to look stupid in front of the only girl who had ever said anything to him other than an insult. She was quite pretty, too, even if she did wear unusual clothing. “Can I come look for them with you?” he added hopefully.

“Sure,” Luna smiled, standing up.

“W-would you like to hold my hand?” Gregory stammered, blushing.

“That might be best,” Luna replied seriously. “Otherwise, the mungsquirgers could attack us much more easily.”

Gregory smiled. Perhaps Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

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