DeanandSeamus or whatever this is

Chapter 8 - Racoony

Dean
"You did what?! Tell me everything. Every little detail. I'll totally help you. And in a football game... How romantic", Ginny smiled at him, as I ran into her house. But her smile faded as she saw my face.

"And you... ran away? Dean I don't care enough to know your middle name Thomas, you had the chance to kiss Seamus Finnigan, I repeat Seamus Finnigan, the boy you're in love with since while you were dating me, which I am absolutely not salty about at all, and – you ran away?! Please, I thought you were a Gryffindor. You did everything right! You should have stayed and made out with him a little longer. Didn't you learn anything while we were dating?", she ranted, and her face was as red as a tomato, just like her ginger hair.

"Gin, I didn't mean to... I don't think he likes me that way. I think he probably hates me and will now hate me more because I kissed him... I shouldn't have kissed him, I should have asked him for permission. I can't just go around and kiss people!", I said, totally confused and angry and sad at the same time. Ginny was still smiling.

"You can't just go and kiss people without their permission? Oh, Dean. Please. I didn't think Seamus Finnigan was just 'people'. You're both totally in love and I bet he enjoyed it and that he's probably out there somewhere and totally lost, because you ran away. Dean. One of the lessons you have to learn is: You deserve this. You deserve to be with Seamus. And...", she saw the protest in my face,

"I know you might be thinking that you don't, that Seamus deserves better and all of that. But let's be real here.  He loves you and he has every reason in the world to do so. Don't act like you're stupid and ugly and a coward. You are not a coward. You are so much better than you think you are. You are a good friend, and a good boyfriend and you... Look, I didn't plan on...", Ginny sat down next to him on her kitchen table, a huge cup of coffee next to her and she was still smiling, trying to encourage him.

"I didn't plan on making this about you and me. I was fifteen, I was trying to live my best life and... I started dating Harry a year later and... You were not at all jealous, you didn't try to make me seem bad or something. And I appreciate that so much, Dean. You are enough. You are a great friend to me and... You are more than enough for Seamus", she declared.

I had no idea what  to say. I was trying as hard as I could to not fall of my chair. I didn't expect her to say these things. Ginny Weasley was one of the toughest girls I knew and I am sure that she would never say something she did not hundred precent believe in. She hugged me for a few seconds.

"Hey, Ginny. I've read these stupid articles about you and Harry and that Rita thinks you're gonna break up or something.. And that you are actually just a shallow ... I don't want to say that word right now. You are not shallow, don't listen to them. And if they want to call you that, accept it. I've learned from Luna that you can't fight against what people say of you. You just have to completely own it. And you do that, this is why admire you, Ginny"

That was the day that I learned that friendship is just as important as love and when you are able to combine both of these things, then there won't be a lot of things to stop you.

Luna
A few days ago, Rolf ran into her office, in the middle of their emergency meeting, and told them that he had nothing to do with Rita, that he had tried to make her stop. It hadn't worked, but he had told them that he wasn't the only one of the DP staff that found it a little over dramatic and strange to write about them. And so he became on of their allies in this war of words. As if he hadn't already been.

Now, every day at exactly tea time, Luna heard her doorbell ring and she jumped of her sofa to open it. Right in front of it, Rolf Scamander, in his hands flowers and a pen. The only thing he needed when he met Luna. They didn't just talk about nargles, they talked about everything. And one time... He even brought a bowtruckle, the old bowtruckle of his great grandfather.