So... this chapter was supposed to be called "Spice" and feature Luna, Sev, & Lucius, board games, and hilarity.

But.

As I posted a few days ago, the mass shooting of LGBTQ+ people at Pulse in Orlando, Florida really devastated me – even though I live on the other side of the country, in California, and didn't know anyone at the club that night. It prompted me to 'come out' as a member of the Queer community – to friends, family, and you, my lovely fanfic readers.

I'm not quite ready to jump into the happy fluff – although your comments and the love you have shown me has been tremendously helpful in easing some of the pain. I'm still hurting, but I'm ready to move forward again. So, thank you. Thank you so very much. And if you will permit me the conceit, I would like to ease back into this story with a slightly-less-fluffy chapter. And then, I promise, we'll get back to the usual fluffy goodness.

Thanks – you guys rock.

---

They stood around the television that Arthur had only just managed to convince to turn on. For a roomful of normally boisterous people, they were silent. So silent, that when Harry shifted his weight to ease the pressure on his knee, wounded in the war and never quite healed properly, the resulting pop sounded loud as a firecracker.

Draco wasn't the only one to jump. He stood next to Harry, hand clamped firmly over his lips, as if to hold in a scream. His eyes were wild, panicked, as they watched the people crying on the screen. As they watched the stretchers being carried out. The blood. So much blood. Blood. And screams.

Draco whimpered between his fingers, and Harry tightened the arm clamped securely round his waist.

The news anchor came back on, then, prattling on about something muggle that none of them – not even Hermione – seemed quite to understand.

Arthur, no doubt disappointed at the way his triumphant – and quite clever – feat of engineering had soured, moved a hand hesitantly toward the knob.

"I'll just turn it off, then, shall I?" he murmured.

Then the picture on the screen changed.

"Wait!" Draco yelped.

Arthur paused.

"What is it?" Harry asked gently.

"Turn it up," Draco ordered, ignoring him.

Arthur turned the knob, and the anchor's voice filled the room. "We've just received word that this man is the individual who carried out this horrific attack, and then turned his gun upon himself."

A grainy photograph appeared behind her.

"Witnesses say he was marked with a sinister-looking snake and skull tattoo on his left arm. The authorities are speculating that this was a gang-related tattoo, and that this could have been a terror – "

Arthur flipped a switch, and the screen went dark. "Well, that's enough of that, I think."

Harry turned to Draco, to ask why he'd had Arthur keep it on. He stopped. Draco was frozen, staring blankly at the wall behind the television. His face was deathly white, and his eyes were wild, unseeing.

"Draco?" he breathed, squeezing his boyfriend's hand. It hung limply, was cold against Harry's.

Then Draco shuddered. "That was..." he turned helplessly to Lucius.

"Yes," Lucius said grimly. "That was Gregson."

Draco whimpered again.

Harry looked back and forth between the two Malfoys in confusion. "Gregson?"

"A Death Eater," Lucius said. "One of the blood-thirstiest. Charged with creating havoc and sowing discord in the muggle world."

"He was doing what Voldemort wanted," Draco whispered. "What I thought I wanted. What I would have done, if not for you."

He turned a burning gaze on Harry.

"Draco..." Harry didn't know where to start.

Luna stepped forward, drew Draco gently into a hug. "You can't take the blame for his actions, Draco. You made your own choices."

Hermione spoke up then. "There must be something we can do..."

Luna brightened. "Of course there is. We'll celebrate."

Everyone turned to stare at her. "Luna..."

"Oh, honestly. Don't any of you know what this month is?" She took in the puzzled looks, the shaking heads, and rolled her eyes. "It's Pride month."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And that means..."

"That means, we're going to a celebration. You're lucky – there's one quite close."

Snape stared at her. "You've been to one of these... celebrations?"

"Oh, yes. Mother and I used to go all the time. They're quite lovely." She paused to look him up and down, considering. "Of course, we'll have to dress the part."

Snape edged behind Lucius as Luna beamed at him. "You present the biggest challenge, of course, Sev, but I'm sure I'll think of something."

"That, Miss Lovegood, is what I am afraid of."

Luna ignored him, skipping over to drag Hermione, Pansy, and Ginny off the couch. Come on, then. You, too, Molly. Oh, and Narcissa and Andy, you'd better come too. We've work to do if we're going to make these boys presentable." The parting look she shot them was rather terrifying.

----

Harry found, later, that his fears paled in comparison to Luna's plans. After he and the others had sat around for a while, staring anxiously at anything but one another, Luna skipped back down the stairs to fetch them. She looked much the same as usual, though she'd added quite a few necklaces, feather earrings, and a few wispy shawls to her outfit. She grabbed Snape and hauled him off. The other girls each fetched one of the boys, and whisked them away to "get them ready," whatever that meant.

Harry and Draco ended up being dragged away by Hermione, which Harry decided was probably the best outcome he could have wished for. Hermione instructed them to stand with their backs to one another, and transfigured a curtain that she hung between them. She then whisked back and forth, transfiguring their clothing, putting... things... on their hair and faces, and muttering to herself. When she finally nodded and pronounced them "acceptable," turning away to assume her own costume, Harry was exceedingly tired of the whole process. He turned to Draco, ready to commiserate, but the words died on his lips.

Draco was fucking gorgeous. Hermione had styled his hair, which was getting long again, so that it fell across his face in a way that Harry could only describe as dead sexy. She'd outlined his eyes in kohl, so that they popped startlingly. His hair was a shocking electric blue, with silver streaks that shimmered. Harry glimpsed an earring dangling from one ear, as Draco tossed his head and his hair shifted. Hermione had transfigured Draco's robes into muggle clothes – black pants with chains and ripped knees, and a silver top with black fishnet sleeves. Draco smirked at him, and Harry realized his mouth was hanging open. He closed it with a snap.

"You don't look too bad, yourself," Draco said, sauntering toward him. Harry gulped, and tried not to back up.

Draco laughed, then gripped Harry gently by the shoulders and turned him toward a mirror. Harry's jeans were tighter, now, dark, with what he assumed were stylish rips. His eyes, too, were lined with kohl, and his shirt was the same startling green. Hermione had taken his glasses, giving him a pair of contacts instead, which he wasn't fond of in general, but supposed he could wear for one evening. They looked good together.

Hermione appeared, then, and they both stared.

"Oh, knock it off," she said, blushing. But she couldn't hide her smile as she turned away.

They trooped down the stairs to meet the others, and they all stood and stared at one another for a bit.

Snape's transformation was the most dramatic, Harry thought faintly. Luna looked quite pleased with herself. Snape looked resigned. Lucius gaped at him.

Ginny giggled madly. "He has pink hair"

Luna sighed. "We did talk about this."

"I know," Ginny gasped, "but I didn't think you'd actually manage to do it. I mean... it sparkles."

Snape folded his arms and stared determinedly at the ceiling. "If you are quite done, Miss Weasley, I would like to get this mad venture over with."

He turned and stalked out the front door. Harry privately thought that the gesture lacked a certain something without Snape's robes snapping behind him. In dark jeans, much like Harry's, a black shirt with fishnet sleeves, and a sleeveless denim jacket covered in patches, kohl-lined eyes and earring like Draco's, and, of course, the shocking bubble-gum colored hair... he was actually kind of hot. Harry hoped the thought didn't show on his face, or he would never live it down.

---

As soon as they arrived, Harry understood. He looked at Luna, at Draco, and they smiled at one another. "I told you," she mouthed. He just nodded.

It was overwhelming, really. The muggles were packed into the square, all of them dressed just as colorfully as they were. They wept and laughed and spoke and mourned the lives that were lost, while celebrating the lives those people had lived. Celebrating their own lives. And the odd combination of grief and joy lightened Harry's heart as nothing had, since the war, and he was profoundly grateful to Luna, who, in her odd way, was helping them all heal.

He turned to her, to tell her, and ended up laughing instead. For there was Luna, dancing quite madly, arms raised to the sky and the rain that had started to fall, colorful shawls and turquoise-streaked hair floating around her. And beside her, looking like he didn't quite know how he'd gotten into this mess, was Snape. As he watched, Luna grabbed Snape's hands, and twirled him, quite unwilling, into a swirling, spinning mass of people who'd had a similar idea to Luna. And when Luna and Snape emerged, and he saw Snape smiling broadly for the first time, when Snape threw back his head and laughed at something Luna whispered in his ear, he knew they would be all right.