Glimpsed in the Light

Goat

'Luna, what exactly are you doing?' Draco asks disapprovingly, looking down his long nose at her.

Luna blinks up at him happily. 'Well – milking this nice little goat I found. Why?' Her tone is questioning, as though milking a goat on the balcony – at four o'clock in the morning! – is a perfectly ordinary sort of thing to do.

Not to mention that the goat has a neatly feathered little wing on each of its legs.

Draco moans and sits down on a handy stool, rubbing the heels of his hands into his forehead. 'Sometimes I think you do that on purpose,' he grouses.

Luna twinkles at him. 'What?' she murmurs – too innocently.

'You just did it again. That little 'What?' or 'Why?' as though whatever outrageous thing you're doing is not at all outrageous. And as though you don't know why I'm asking.' He folds his arms and raises a stern eyebrow at her.

She giggles – actually giggles at him, on the balcony at four o'clock in the morning. The flying goat turns its head to look at her with big trustful eyes. 'Hey,' Luna says to it, softly, and smooths a hand over its neck.

'I realise,' says Draco, 'that this is probably some rare creature that we learned about in school, but it's four o'clock. What is he – it?'

Luna runs a finger across the creature's back, tracing little circular shapes. 'Look,' she says. 'See how the hair grows in rosettes, all over him? I think it's what's called a Gotelin. They're very, very good luck if they come to your home!'

The little creature skips its legs together and does a little bounce into the air, butting a friendly head into Luna's side. And then, with a bigger bounce, it's on to the balcony rail. It gives one soft bleat before taking off with a leap into the night sky.

Luna waves until they can't see it anymore, and Draco waves to be company for her. When their hands drop, she looks up with big smiling eyes and then flings her arms around him.

They nearly knock the pail of milk over, but Draco deftly steers them off course – he's well in practice. Then he hugs her back tightly, rubbing his nose into her hair, breathing in that nice soft sleepy scent that's Luna at night.

The little Gotelin's visit might or might not bring them good luck. But for the moment, he has everything he needs, right here in his arms.

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