Neville leaned into the duo. "Have you heard the rumour going around about you two?"
Harry groaned. "Which one?"
"There's more than one?"
"Unfortunately," Harry said. "Which one did you hear? Love potions? My evil rakish ways?"
"No, neither of those. I heard one of the Hufflepuff sixth-years say that there was an outstanding marriage contract from the eighteenth century between the Potter and Lovegood families, and your dad" he pointed to Luna "called it in. He said you'll be married right after the end of term."
"We'll only be fifteen!" Harry groaned. "Who comes up with this stuff?"
"He said you're getting some special dispensation from the Ministry because you're the Boy-Who-Lived. I didn't believe a word of it, of course, but I thought you should know what's going around."
"It never ends," Harry muttered. "Thanks, Neville. You're going to the Three Broomsticks later?"
"Yeah, I owe Ron some butterbeers. I have to stop making chess bets with him."