![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
TITLE: Crazy Little Things
SERIES: Harry Potter
AUTHOR:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dreiser
EMAIL: dreiser7@yahoo.com
YAHOO ID: dreiser7
AIM ID: dreiser3
MY WEBSITE: http://www.dreiser.org/
CONTENT: F/F romance. Hermione/Luna.
SUMMARY: Little by little, in her own unusual way, Luna Lovegood begins to romance Hermione Granger.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my love of fabulous French pop music.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Luna takes Hermione somewhere in this chapter and see if you can't guess where the name of that location comes from. If you have a hard time with it just look at my icon or WATCH THIS. As I mention in my disclaimer, I love fabulous French pop music and I feature some in this chapter. Namely the song Je Te Rends Ton Amour by Mylene Farmer. It's quite pretty and I recommend everyone give it a listen.
Crazy Little Things
By: Dreiser
Weeks passed since their grand celebration and in those weeks Hermione saw less and less of Ron and more and more of Luna because of their work with Professor Ipson. Though most of the time she spent with the blonde was doing work it never felt that way to Hermione. It seemed was impossible for her to consider it such because like most people she had a tendency to associate work with the boring and often mundane. And that was never how Hermione felt when she was with Luna. Whether they were discussing potion ingredients for a cure to Harrowing Hiccups or the existence of the Fearsome Triple Footed Pimplot it was somehow always interesting to her. More than that, it was fun.
She was having so much fun that she supposed it had to come to an end eventually. When that moment arrived, it did so spectacularly. With a barrage of fireworks and explosions instead of the quiet bang and a pop that Hermione would have preferred. They had gotten into a discussion with the Professor about the revolutionary aspect of the project. How the book would change the way people in the wizarding world looked at healing children. In this discussion, Hermione remarked if they were trying to be truly revolutionary then why were they relying on the standard form of curing diseases?
For hundreds of years wizards have used potions to cure diseases, poxes, and viruses and some in the magical medical community felt this practice was outdated. Several even proving that the use of potions had created retro-viruses, that using the same potions over and over has resulted in the diseases being able to mutate magically, becoming far more deadly in the process. The only viable solution to stop this from happening, they theorized, was to cure with spells rather than potions as it was far more difficult, nearly impossible in fact, for a virus to become immune to a spell rather than potion. Considering that, Hermione reasoned, shouldn't they be developing spells to cure these diseases rather than new potions since spells would be far more effective in the long term?
Whenever they had discussions about things like this in the past Luna usually agreed with her and when she didn't, she expressed her opinions a level manner that left Hermione wondering if her thoughts were really right on the matter. The perpetual serenity that the blonde seemed to carry with her never left her in their talks and Hermione could count on seeing that peaceful smile grace her lips during their discussion. But when Hermione brought up the studies that proved spells to be superior to potions in curing diseases and preventing retro-viruses from emerging she saw that calm leave the other girl for the first time. A serious line formed on her lips and her blue eyes darkened as she said that despite what any study said, it was too dangerous to develop spells as cures for diseases. There were too many chances for something to go wrong and when it went wrong…
It was at that point that Luna stopped talking.
Hermione, however, kept right on. Speaking passionately about how progress should never be slowed by the mere chance something could go wrong. After all, how could one live their life wondering about chances? You would never get anything done for all the time spent worrying over such things. There was always danger in the unknown and that was just something that went along with being part of things that were new and innovative. And the people who were involved accepted this and still continued on, knowing what they were doing was important enough that it was worth the risk.
The Professor tried to interject, to stop anything more from being said, but it was too late. Luna had her head lowered and her body was trembling, her hands clenched into fists as she said, her voice fierce and frightening in its whisper, that there was nothing innovative and worthy in death. Nothing at all. Then she swept a pile of books into her arms, mumbling that she would return them to the library before it got too late and they shut for the night. A long and horrible silence filled the room then Professor Ipson turned to Hermione, a good deal sadness and regret evident in his gaze.
"Oh dear," Ipson said with a deep sigh, wearing a worried frown as he removed his round glasses and wiped them on his checkered vest. "I knew I should have stopped you before it got too far but I do enjoy it when students have intellectual discussions. Though the last part of that was more of a row than anything else. I suppose it's to be expected, when you consider poor Fiona."
"Fiona?" asked Hermione, tearing her eyes away from the doorway that Luna had exited through and focusing on the Professor. Stopping herself, for the moment, from following after the blonde.
"Fiona Callaghan," murmured Ipson and he went around his desk, searching through the piles of parchments and books, before he produced a faded black and white photograph sitting inside a cracked wooden frame. Taking the photograph, Hermione followed his finger as it landed above the head of an extraordinarily pretty witch with flowing blonde hair and warm twinkling eyes. When she noticed Hermione's gaze, she tilted her head in a manner that the brunette couldn't help but recognize and waved happily at the younger girl. "One of my very first students at the University." Hermione's eyes were drawn to a much younger and far thinner Professor Ipson who beamed at her from the photograph. "Though you would know her better by the name of Lovegood."
"Luna's mother," Hermione breathed and she kept her gaze fixed on the woman in the photograph who continued to smile at her in a way that she found so familiar in her daughter. Lifting her head, looking at Ipson with concern, she said, "She told me about her. How she died. But I didn't think…"
"Fiona was one of the strongest proponents for spells being used instead of potions to cure disease," said Ipson, gently taking the photograph back from the brunette. "It was shortly after she graduated here that a more deadly strain of Dragon Pox developed. One that was immune to the standard potion cure created by Gunhilda of Gorsemoor and Fiona was part of a team at St. Mungo's assigned to study it in hopes of creating a possible cure. She became convinced potions were the cause of the new strains of viruses and that the only way to permanently rid ourselves of these new viruses would be with spells."
"She died experimenting with a spell," said Hermione in a hush. The entire conversation she just had came rushing back into her mind. How she said that spells were superior to potions as cures because of retro-viruses and how anyone working on something new and innovative, such as Luna's mother had in her work to create a spell to cure the new strain of Dragon Pox, would have known and accepted the risk involved with their work. In a way it was tantamount to her saying that Luna's mother was willing to die to create that spell. To die and leave Luna and her father without a second thought. All for her work, for the sake of medical advancement, for the sake of finding that cure. Lost as she looked to Professor Ipson who wore a solemn but understanding look on his features, she said, "I never meant…" Hermione trailed off, unable to say the words, swallowing hard as she continued quietly, "Honestly, I didn't."
"I know," said Ipson kindly. "And I'm sure that Luna knows as well. But all the same," Ipson walked around his desk, reaching down for Hermione's satchel and handing it to her with a soft smile. "Perhaps it would be best if you told her that." Hermione paused, hesitating, whether out of fear of what to say to Luna or feeling the obligation to stay and continue her work with Ipson and the Professor made a shooing motion with his hands as he said, "Go on. I doubt we would get much more done tonight as it is."
For the first time in a long while, Hermione wasn't thinking as she made her way to the library. Her mind was an absolute blank as she walked into the building and started searching. She hadn't the slightest idea where she was going, she hadn't stopped to think about which books the blonde had taken from the Professor's office, how many there were and how long it would take for her to put them away. Hermione didn't have even the smallest thought in her head as she wandered through the stacks, automatically winding her way on a strange path she didn't understand until it somehow led her directly to Luna.
Three books were balanced on the top of her head, slipping backwards ever so slightly as the blonde looked up while she performed a levitating spell to put the book that had been in her arms onto the highest shelf in the stacks. Moving forward before she could stop and consider what to say, Hermione lifted a hand to steady the books before they fell to the ground and it was in that movement that Luna noticed her presence. She studied Hermione for a long moment before she reached up and removed the books from her head, gathering them close to her chest, holding them tight to her body as if they were some sort of shield that could protect her from hurt. Swallowing hard on seeing this, on seeing the pain, however faint, in Luna's blue eyes, Hermione searched her mind desperately for the right words to say. It was then that she recalled what the Professor had told her and she decided that perhaps she should simply do as he advised and say to Luna what she had said to him. No matter how awkward and stumbling it had been.
"I didn't mean what I said before," Hermione began, watching helplessly as Luna turned from her to stare off into the distance, looking at what she had no idea. "I mean, I know that's not entirely true. I do think that spells are more effective long term than potions but what I said about it being worth the risk… I didn't mean that, not in the way it sounded. Not in the way that I think it's right for people to sacrifice their lives. That's not something I'd ever agree with, no matter what good might result out of it."
"There's very little good," Luna said vaguely, her gaze still far from Hermione. "She never did find a cure."
"Luna," Hermione breathed her name more than said it, moving forward and reaching out to the younger girl before she realized what she was doing. "I'm sorry for what I said."
"I know," said Luna distantly and the books she was holding fell from her chest and she turned methodically, her eyes searching the stacks as she put the next book in the pile back where it belonged. "I know when you said that you weren't speaking about my mother and what happened to her but all the same, that's the only thing that I could think of when you were speaking. And the more you kept on speaking it changed from her to my father, the Professor, Ginny, and then you. I kept seeing these horrible things happening to all of you as they'd happened to her and in the end I simply had to leave." The last book put away, Luna finally looked at Hermione. "We never did finish our discussion."
Releasing a disbelieving laugh, Hermione shook her head, trying to grasp if it really was this easy to be forgiven by Luna because it never was with Ron, and said, "I don't think I want to finish it. Do you?"
"Not especially," said Luna, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "But I will say that I don't see very much good in one person dying for another. Anyone can say it's a terribly noble thing and perhaps that's true but shouldn't Healers be more concerned with saving everyone? Even themselves?"
"You're right," said Hermione softly and seriously. A wave of guilt seizing her, Hermione stepped forward, taking Luna's hands in her own, looking at her with wide and plaintive eyes. "I'm so sorry, Luna, honestly I am. Sometimes I get so caught up in my ideas and theories that I don't stop to think about people and their feelings. I guess that's what happens when someone becomes more comfortable with books and studies than with people as I have. They begin to lose their skills in dealing with them." Hermione gave a wry laugh as she continued, "If I had any in the first place." She remained utterly still as the blonde gently pulled one of her hands free and it moved up to push a stray lock of hair from Hermione's eyes. "Luna," Hermione said her name again, this time with an anxious sort of emphasis, almost begging for a response.
"We should go out," Luna said after some consideration, her hand falling down to bury itself in Hermione's hair, idly curling several brown locks around her index finger in a playful manner. When Hermione blinked and looked at her with a thoroughly baffled expression, the blonde smiled sweetly and said, "I don't think you have anything in particular to apologize for but at the same time I do think you're quite like the Cagey Curdsnip, unable to let something go once you've taken hold of it. That being so, the perfect solution would be for you to go out with me. You could consider it your apology and I could consider it my blackmail."
"I'll go out with you but I refuse to let you call it blackmail," replied Hermione dryly.
"Oh?" asked Luna, a mischievous smile forming on her lips as she released Hermione's hair from around her finger, allowing it to bounce back into its proper place. "Should I have said extortion instead? Or bribery perhaps? Put the squeeze?"
"Put the squeeze?" Hermione repeated with a laugh.
"Isn't that something the Muggles say?" asked Luna, frowning in contemplation. "I thought I had heard them use it on one of their criminal programs on the vellytision."
"Television," corrected Hermione, a wide smile on her features. "And I'm not sure how often anyone uses that term, Luna. Even Muggle criminals on television."
Luna released a thoughtful murmur then looked to Hermione and said quite seriously, "I'd like to go out this Friday night. Will you be busy or does putting the Muggle squeeze flatten any plans with Ron?"
There wasn't anything for Hermione to really consider. As far as she was concerned she had already promised Luna she would go out with her, regardless of the night she chose. Then there was also the fact that lately she was starting to suspect if given the chance to spend time with Ron or Luna she would choose the latter. It wasn't something she was especially proud of but that was the answer all the same. Should she take the time to process the reasons behind it, she would probably come to the conclusion that whenever she was with Luna she always felt like she was on a strange sort of adventure. To Hermione it seemed as if the other girl could make the simplest things incredibly entertaining and she was discovering that feeling to be somewhat addictive. Hermione had never considered herself to be a very fun person but when she was with Luna she thought that maybe she could be and she rather liked that feeling.
And her addiction being what it was, it didn't matter in the least when Luna wanted to go out because Hermione would say yes. Just as she did now, wearing an easy smile and already looking forward to whatever the blonde had planned. Just because she had an unwavering belief, that normally would have bothered her in its utter lack of logic, that it would be something she would enjoy.
---
Worrying over what to wear was something most would consider an innately feminine trait and since Hermione was female she supposed it was a bit odd that she had never experienced this worry herself. At least, she had never experienced it before she agreed to go out with Luna on Friday night. Hermione tried to convince herself that the reason she never felt this way was quite logical. Whenever she would go out with Ron she always knew where they were going. There was never a sense of surprise to the matter and that being so, she always knew what clothing would be appropriate.
Dealing with Luna was quite the opposite. It seemed as if everything was a surprise with the blonde witch and Hermione was rushing after her just to keep up. At times it was exhausting but it was strangely thrilling all the same. Even if it did leave her confused and worried as she stared at herself in the mirror, trying to figure out if what she was wearing suited whatever it was they would be doing tonight. Apparently sick of all this worrying, Hermione's mirror self rolled her eyes and began studying her nails, refusing to cooperate with the brunette's obsession anymore by matching her poses.
"Some help you are," muttered Hermione crossly.
Rolling her eyes again, Mirror Hermione walked out of her line of vision, disappearing somewhere within her magical mirror world, leaving the real Hermione to scowl and stare at nothing. Heaving a sigh, she was walking into her living room just as a knock sounded on her door. Then several other knocks. Seven in fact. All quiet and in a precise tapping order as if they were trying to say something to the person on the other side of the door. A smile quirking on her lips, Hermione pulled the door open and saw Luna with her hand curled in a small fist, readying to knock yet again.
"Luna," Hermione greeted, her voice laced with humor. "Whatever were you doing?"
"Saying hello and asking how your day has gone," said Luna, acting as if it was the most natural thing in the world to express this through the communication of door knocks.
Hermione chuckled and shut the door quietly, already sensing the blonde's gaze on her and trying to control the sudden shyness she felt seizing her. Turning around, she beamed in attempt to hide her nerves and asked, "Ready to go?"
"You're anxious," Luna stated, looking at Hermione with lidded blue eyes filled with concern. Hermione started to protest this assessment but the blonde interrupted gently, "That won't do at all. No one ever has fun while they're anxious. Not really and I did intend putting the squeeze on you for fun."
"I'm fine, honestly," insisted Hermione. Another moment passed then Luna sighed and firmly took hold of Hermione's hand, leading her through her flat and into her bedroom. An action which did little to settle the anxiety that the other girl had spoken about earlier. "Luna," Hermione said her name, no longer bothering to try and hide her nervousness. "What are you doing?"
Turning round to face Hermione, she folded her arms across her chest and wore a no nonsense expression on her face. Luna studied the brunette long and hard before she said, "Take off your clothes."
"What?" Hermione squeaked and her eyes grew as wide as saucers.
"You need to take off your clothes," Luna said this like it was simply a matter of logic and stepped forward, reaching out to the other girl in what Hermione assumed was an effort to carry out her words.
"Why in the world should I do that?" demanded Hermione, taking a step back for each one that Luna took forward. A huffy tone emerged in her voice and she was beginning to wonder if she should get her wand.
"Because," Luna sighed heavily, stopping her constant approach and looking at Hermione with a good deal of concern. "They're obviously infested with the Agitated Threadmites. Nasty little creatures, they love to burrow themselves in your clothing and eat at them from the inside until your pants have little frays at the bottom and your shirts no longer button. One of the side effects from having a long term infestation is an increase in anxiety and I think we've just proven quite thoroughly that's something you're suffering from. Unfortunately they're very wily and hard to kill so there's really only one way to get rid of them."
"Take off my clothes," said Hermione dimly.
"Or change them at the very least," said Luna with a nod, appearing satisfied that Hermione understood. "Besides," Luna said as an afterthought, observing as the brunette sighed and opened her closet. "Those clothes don't suit you in the least."
"They don't?" asked Hermione, looking down at said clothes and wondering what was wrong with them other than a theoretical Agitated Threadmite infestation. They were a perfectly nice pair of brown slacks and a beige button up blouse. Ron had never complained when she wore them so she couldn't possibly imagine there was something the matter since he surely would have spoken up. Perhaps they were a bit dull but it wasn't as if she was a terribly exciting dresser. "Why do you say that?"
Absently searching through Hermione's closet, Luna explained, "Clothing for people can be used like shells for a crab. They can't talk you see, the crabs, and so they pick shells to say how they're feeling. Depending on the shell they pick out it's quite easy to tell what kind of mood a crab is in. I think people are the same way. That if you look at the clothes they're wearing closely enough you can see what they're feeling."
"What did my clothes say I was feeling?" asked Hermione curious but also apprehensive at the same time. Maybe it was because she suspected the blonde was going to say she felt boring in some form.
"Nervous," said Luna, smiling as she looked over her shoulder. "But that was the fault of the Agitated Threadmites. Other than that I'd say they told me you were feeling trusty and obligated. Which is lovely, in a way, because trusty is what you always are underneath it all but I don't think obligated rather fits what I have planned for tonight which is why I think it's best if you changed."
Watching Luna arrange a pile of clothes on her bed, apparently trying to decide which ones would inspire the right feeling in Hermione for the night, she thought on what the other girl just said. The outfit she was wearing was something she'd worn several times on dates with Ron. It was easy and simple because it suited any occasion really but it wasn't like it was anything that reflected any measure of excitement over her plans. For the first time since Luna arrived, Hermione took a good look at what her friend was wearing, perhaps trying to test out the blonde's theory and get some idea of what she was feeling.
Her eyes were immediately drawn to the form fitting peacoat that hugged Luna's hips. Depending on how the light hit the material of the coat, it appeared to change colors. Shifting from a deep purple to a shining blue and sometimes a brilliant yellow. Though a bit distracting it was beautiful and perfectly suited the blonde, accenting the black pants with silver pinstripes she had on. The pants were slightly baggy and hung low over a pair of sparkling silver boots that Hermione thought were made to glow in the dark. Finishing it all off was a spaghetti string tank top that perfectly matched the silver boots Luna wore and dipped in a way that it hinted at cleavage rather than showing any off. All in all, it was an unusual choice of clothing but everything fit wonderfully and if Hermione had to pick a feeling they inspired it would have been fanciful.
The clothing flawlessly expressed what kind of person Luna was. Showing that she was charming and carefree and not in the slightest concerned about what others might think of her. She was simply herself and Hermione found herself rather wistful in her admiration of it as she considered her own selection of brown pants and a beige shirt. Hermione was still contemplating her utter lack of fashion when the blonde announced she had finished her search and skipped out the room, leaving the brunette to change.
Looking at what Luna had picked out, Hermione knew she never would have put those items of clothing together but she also knew wearing them would make the blonde happy and this night was meant as an apology of sorts. So with a sigh and a shrug, she went about the task of changing. A few moments later, Hermione was standing in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection who clucked her tongue and smiled at the new clothes with clear approval. What had seemed like a random choice of clothing had turned out to be a unique and flattering outfit. Instead of her beige button up blouse, the brunette went sleeveless, wearing only a form fitting red vest that beautifully accented her curves. She had on pants that were a favorite of hers for years now, the black material slightly faded from how much she wore them. The cloth was soft against her skin, reminding her something of velvet and it was because of this that Hermione loved wearing them. A winding silver chain link belt wrapped through the belt loops and her sensible leather shoes had been traded in for a pair of red and black converse.
Staring at her mirror self who winked at her as she adjusted the red vest so it would be just right, Hermione wondered what Luna thought these clothes said about her. What feeling they would inspire and did it match the blonde's? Shaking her head, deciding it did no good to stand in her room and think about such things while Luna was waiting for her, she left her flirtatious mirror image alone and walked out of her bedroom and into the living room where the other girl sat on the couch, petting a purring Crookshanks.
"Ah," Luna murmured happily, rising to her feet and reaching out to adjust Hermione's vest in the exact manner her mirror self had done moments earlier. "Doesn't that feel better?"
"A bit," admitted Hermione, feeling a little embarrassed at how much she liked what Luna had chosen for her but that feeling immediately leaving her as the blonde looked at her affectionately. Taking her coat and shrugging it on, the brunette purposely kept her back to the other girl as she said hesitantly, "Luna?"
"Yes?" replied Luna and without looking, Hermione knew she was petting Crookshanks again because of the loud and entirely contended purring.
"What feeling do these clothes give?" Hermione asked, keeping her back to her friend. Because of this she was unaware of Luna's approach until there was a soft touch of the blonde's hands on her hips and the gentle press of her breasts against her back.
A tremble ran through Hermione as she felt the warmth of Luna's breath on her skin as she replied, a smile in her voice, and pulled the brunette closer, "Comfortably sexy."
Silence and then Hermione burst into laughter, craning her neck to look at the blonde who beamed at her and laughing still, she accused her companion playfully, "You're having fun with me, aren't you? That's not a proper feeling, you know that!"
"Perhaps it isn't proper but it's a feeling all the same," said Luna stubbornly, looking away from Hermione as she dug into the pocket of her peacoat to produce her wand. "And it's precisely the feeling I wanted you to have while I'm putting the squeeze on you tonight." If possible, Hermione began to laugh even more on hearing this and Luna wore a quietly pleased expression as she murmured, "I do love seeing that."
"What's that?" asked Hermione, her laughter dying down into chuckles, she peered back at the blonde.
"A happy Hermione," Luna answered with a tender expression on her face and before Hermione could reply they disapparated with a wave of her wand.
---
The sound of music playing and people talking was what greeted Hermione when they apparated. There was a chill in the air and she shivered on feeling it. As soon as she did, Luna's hands were rubbing at her arms and the chill soon left her. Although her curiosity about their location didn't. Looking around, she saw they were at the end of a line filled with twenty or so witches and wizards, all waiting to go inside what appeared to be a club of some sort. Standing at the front of the line, off to one side, was a wizard whose black robes bore the glowing words Danse Magie Danse just as the brightly lit sign above him did.
Before Hermione could question where they were, she felt Luna's warm breath once again on her skin as the blonde murmured in her ear, "This is the Incantation Secteur of Paris. It's a safe place for witches and wizards, rather like Diagon Alley. Muggles have no idea it's here."
"Why are we here?" asked Hermione, though she already had a sneaking suspicion.
Luna didn't reply because without the brunette noticing, they had reached the front of the line. The wizard who was standing off to one side, bearing the name of the club on his robes, gave Luna a glittering smile and murmured something in French that caused the blonde to giggle. They were soon in what appeared to be a coat check area where a lovely witch with spun gold hair done up in an elaborate bun released an ecstatic cry on seeing Luna and begin speaking rapidly in French. Removing her coat after observing the blonde doing the same, Hermione was surprised to see her friend also hand over her wand. Touching her wand that was safely tucked into the pocket of her vest, Hermione frowned at the French witch who she was sure was asking for it as she wore something of an impatient look on her features.
"They collect wands to prevent duels from popping up," Luna explained. "Don't fret," she wore a reassuring expression. "I've left my wand with Corinne countless times and she's always taken the utmost care of it."
While she was reluctant to hand over her wand, especially after everything that had happened to her in recent years, Hermione couldn't help but believe in Luna on seeing the look of complete trust she had on her features. She handed her coat and wand over to Corinne and restrained herself from scowling on seeing the witch give an enchanting but also smug smile. Watching Luna retrieve some galleons and sickles from the pockets of her pinstriped pants, she asked, "How much is it?"
"Nothing for you," said Luna serenely, smiling at Hermione before giving Corinne the money.
"Luna--" Hermione started to protest.
"Absinthe Apology," interrupted Luna, saying this as if it were a great announcement. Hermione blinked at her in confusion and she hooked their arms together, saying a quick goodbye to Corinne in French as they walked towards the sound of the music that the brunette had heard earlier. "If you must pay for something, do pay for the drinks. I shall order an Absinthe Apology to start."
"I didn't know you could speak French," said Hermione who was trying very hard not to feel out of place. It was true that when she was with Luna she felt life was fun and exciting, because it was, but sometimes she didn't always feel at ease with that. She didn't do well with situations she couldn't predict, preferring the comfort of books and study where anything unexpected came in the form of the written word. And she was sure that she wouldn't be able to predict what would happen once they reached the source of the music that was vibrating through the walls, floor, and into their bodies. "They don't teach it at Hogwarts, do they?"
"I don't," said Luna, looking to Hermione with some surprise and a bit of concern. "I used the translation spell you told me about in your seventh year. Interpretatio, don't you remember? I was ever so glad when you pointed it out to me. It's been terribly useful on my expeditions." Hermione was busy trying to recall when she had told the blonde about the spell and wondering how in the world she could have forgotten about its existence, however momentarily, when Luna paused in their walk. They were standing in front of a wooden door that had a picture of a coffee cup carved into it. The blonde unhooked her arm from Hermione's and moved to stand in front of the brunette. She tilted her head to one side and studied Hermione for a long moment then said a little sadly, "You're feeling anxious again."
Part of Hermione wanted to dispute this but she just couldn't do it. Perhaps because she knew Luna was right. She was feeling anxious and there wasn't much she could do about it other than admit it as the truth. "I'm sorry," Hermione found herself apologizing but for what she had no idea.
"These clothes don't have Agitated Threadmites so it must be something else," said Luna and she frowned, looking like she was concentrating very hard to figure out what it might be. Several patrons of the club were heading towards them and the blonde took Hermione's hand in her own and pulled her over to the corner of the room that was secluded. Wearing an expression of genuine concern, Luna questioned, "Do you not feel comfortable? Is it me? The club? Or perhaps France? I've always thought this country smells of crepes. It does take some time to get used to."
Forming a smile, unable to help finding humor in Luna's words, Hermione shook her head. "It isn't you, the club, or even France," said Hermione. She paused to try and find the right words to explain what it was but found herself at a loss and simply began talking before she could sort it all out. "Perhaps it's me? I'm not entirely sure to be honest. I just… it's a bit sad, really, but I don't think I do very well when I haven't an idea of what to expect and since I've never been to a place such as this I find myself in precisely that situation." Rubbing her forehead and feeling frustrated with herself, Hermione muttered, "I know it's ridiculous. Ron's said as much. That I fall to pieces without having a plan of any sort but I can't help it. I find myself freezing and it's the most horrid feeling. Knowing I ought to move, I need to move, but not being able."
Cool hands covered her own, gently drawing them away from her forehead and then they returned, soft fingertips touching her skin in a magnificently skilled caress, the movement perfect and relaxing in its press. Several moments passed before Luna felt she had rubbed enough of the worry away and she murmured, "What if you try to move by following after me? I promise to look after you and make sure you never become frozen. Maybe that way you wouldn't feel so anxious." Hermione sighed as the blonde's fingertips swept across her forehead and moved down to trace the line of her jaw. "There," Luna hooked her thumb under the brunette's chin, lifting it up so the other girl looked into her twinkling blue eyes. "Don't you feel comfortably sexy?"
Dropping her head down to rest on Luna's shoulder, Hermione chuckled softly. "You're daft," she accused with good humor. Lifting it up to look at the other girl, she reached for the blonde's hand and gave it a light squeeze. "Come on," she murmured. "I owe you a drink."
"Yes," Luna agreed, smiling sweetly, "you do."
Keeping her hand firmly placed in the blonde's and lacing their fingers together, Hermione released a shuddering sigh as Luna pushed open the wooden door and revealed the interior of the club. It was large and completely circular, reminding Hermione of Professor Ipson in a strange way. There were several levels, each one winding down into the next, and each of them consisting of severely different things to captivate the patrons attention. At the very bottom there was an enormous round dance floor that was filled to the brim with witches, wizards, elves, and even a few veela.
The level that they had walked into was a café of sorts, it had a warm and friendly atmosphere. Witches and wizards were gathered around a variety of tables, sipping at their coffee, pumpkin juice, and butterbeer, busy chatting about any number of things. Luna squeezed Hermione's hand and led her through the café, pushing open a door that had a music note carved into it and suddenly they were inside a small music club. The stage was long and dimly lit, a beautiful singer with deep purple hair whose voice was rich and full as she sang about the darkness before the fall and without hearing anymore, Hermione knew the song was about Voldemort and the world before his defeat.
"Do you want to stay and have a listen?" questioned Luna, her voice soft in Hermione's ear.
Turning to look at her friend, Hermione studied their surroundings, the odd assortment of tall tables, the long stage, and bar that was directly across from it, then looked back at the door that had a coffee cup carved into it. "How is it that we can't hear anything from the café we were just inside?" said Hermione, genuinely curious about the answer. Luna started to reply and Hermione said with wry humor, "And don't say magic. I figured as much."
"Silencing spells, quite powerful ones, I would imagine," said Luna and her eyes drifted to the stage where the singer was beginning her next set, joined by a wizard holding an instrument that looked a combination of a banjo and a guitar. "They have one for each level of the club and I believe the doors are the activators, acting as barriers when they close, keeping the sound from the next level out."
Considering this for a moment, Hermione looked to Luna as the wizard on stage started a strange series of plucking sounds and tugged on her hand. "Lets go," she murmured with a smile.
"Are you sure?" asked Luna, studying the other girl closely.
"Somehow I don't think this is where you meant to take me," said Hermione, her tone of voice faintly sardonic as she made her way through the tall tables and towards the wooden door on the other end of the room that had a chess rook carved into it.
She opened it to reveal a game room of sorts. There were a number of round tables filled to the brim with wizards and a few witches, all playing a variety of games from Wizard Chess to Exploding Snap and even a game or two of Gobstones. Taking a brief look at one of the chess games that were going on, Hermione contemplated telling Ron about this place because he would surely enjoy it. As soon as this thought came into her mind it soon exited and a small scowl formed on her face as she imagined what would happen if she did bring Ron here. He would spend the entire night playing Wizard Chess and she would be thoroughly forgotten in the process. Much like what had happened the night of her supposed grand celebration because of the Big Pot going on. Suddenly quite determined to exit this level, Hermione walked towards the door with a broom carved into it with increased speed.
What greeted her next only served to remind her of Ron yet again. Simply because they were now inside a bar much like Peasegood's Pub in London. Except this bar was dedicated to Quidditch rather than Quodpot. It was overflowing with an assortment of Quidditch fans, all wearing the colors of their chosen teams, gathered around a wide collection of cauldrons that bubbled and brewed images of matches being played all over the world. At the far end of the room she saw a wizard wearing a Chudley Cannons jersey as he cheered them on in a match against the Falmouth Falcons. Though she didn't think it possible, Hermione moved even faster through this bar, pulling Luna after her as she pushed open the last door which displayed a pair of shoes clicking the heels together.
They had finally arrived at the last level of the club and where Hermione suspected Luna meant to take her. Suddenly losing her sense of momentum, the brunette stopped in her tracks as that awful feeling of inaction that she had described earlier took control of her. But Luna was there, her hand warm and reassuring in Hermione's, fingertips lightly caressing her palm and she gently pulled the brunette forward. Her body moving on automatic, Hermione studied their surroundings. From the first level of the café she could tell, looking down, that there was a dance floor at the bottom but the view hadn't allowed her to truly grasp the sheer size of it. To Hermione it seemed as if the entire structure was based around the large round surface that glinted with lights and vibrated from the music and the movement of the wizards and witches covering it.
Winding their way through the crowd, they headed towards the long bar that curved around the dance floor, taking up half of the outside space. Luna stood on her tiptoes and waved at one of the bartenders who made his way over with a smile on his face. "Two Absinthe Apologies please," she ordered and the wizard gave a wink then with a flash of light several bottles of alcohol appeared, each of them pouring liquid into the two shot glasses that mixed themselves once they were filled. Waiting for the fizzing and popping to dwindle to a stop, Luna reached for one of the glasses and handed it to Hermione who took it with an entirely reluctant look on her features. Moving close to whisper in her ear, perhaps to ensure the brunette heard her over the loud beat of the music, Luna's breath tickled her skin as she murmured, "Don't worry. It's wonderfully delicious."
Observing as the blonde finished the drink in one quick swallow, Hermione studied the green fizzing liquid for a moment before she followed suit. The taste was cool and sweet on her tongue and with a hint of fruity aftertaste that she found surprisingly pleasing. She started to tell Luna that she was right, the drink was wonderfully delicious, but noticed the blonde had been pulled aside by a tall wizard with oddly puffed black hair. Left to her own devices, Hermione's gaze traveled over the club, watching the dancing witches and wizards who, to her, seemed so much more free than herself. There was little doubt in her mind that Luna had brought her here to dance and that wasn't something Hermione normally did. In fact, if her memory was correct, the last time she had danced was at the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum in her fourth year. While she did have fun at the ball with Viktor, particularly dancing with him, it wasn't something that Ron tended to enjoy and since it was Ron she had been dating for the past three years she hadn't gone dancing since. Part of her wondered if she was really able, if she could be as carefree and happy as the people on the dance floor, and a sudden feeling of dread seized her. And she could only think of one way to rid herself of that feeling.
By the time Luna finished chatting with the puffy haired wizard, there were four empty shot glasses sitting in front of Hermione at the bar. The blonde failed to notice this as she stepped closer to her friend and leaned in, murmuring in her ear, "I think we should have a dance."
No reply came from Hermione, she simply dipped her head in agreement and Luna smiled, bright and utterly brilliant before taking the brunette's hand and leading her onto the dance floor. They easily slipped through the crowd and onto the round structure that glowed and hummed. Perhaps it was the alcohol but when she first stood on it, Hermione felt lighter, as if she was being lifted up. It was a dizzying feeling and she held onto Luna's hand that much tighter as they moved towards the center of the dance floor. A new song began playing, slow and dramatic at first, then an ethereal voice filled the air, French and haunting, and everyone on the dance floor began swaying in time with it. Hermione watched with a small degree of panic while they all paired up but then she felt the warmth of Luna's hand trailing down her side to rest on her hip. She looked to the blonde as her other hand followed the same path and for a moment it was as if she couldn't breath. Then the music swelled, becoming louder and more insistent and Luna pulled her closer, their bodies pressed together and slowly Hermione let the blonde guide her as they moved with the music.
The alcohol and music swimming in her brain, Hermione sighed, hiding her face in soft and silken white blonde hair, breathing in the scent of raspberries that Luna always seemed to carry with her. Why had this been so terribly scary to her? It wasn't scary at all, it was relaxing. Frighteningly so. Hermione didn't think she had ever felt as peaceful and content as she did right now, being held in Luna's arms, and that was a terrifying thought in a way. Because what did it say about her and her relationship with Ron? That she had never felt this at ease with him, this protected, and this cared for? She wanted to contemplate this further but she couldn't, not with the alcohol addling her thoughts and especially not with the warm press of Luna's body against hers. The feeling was too nice and too new to ruin with her constant need to analyze. Why couldn't she simply be and enjoy the moment?
And so, Hermione swayed to the music, safe in the circle of Luna's arms, vowing not to think about the how's or the why's of this situation. Allowing herself, for once in her life, the luxury of being able to just feel. Regardless of the consequences.
To be continued...
SERIES: Harry Potter
AUTHOR:
dreiserEMAIL: dreiser7@yahoo.com
YAHOO ID: dreiser7
AIM ID: dreiser3
MY WEBSITE: http://www.dreiser.org/
CONTENT: F/F romance. Hermione/Luna.
SUMMARY: Little by little, in her own unusual way, Luna Lovegood begins to romance Hermione Granger.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my love of fabulous French pop music.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Luna takes Hermione somewhere in this chapter and see if you can't guess where the name of that location comes from. If you have a hard time with it just look at my icon or WATCH THIS. As I mention in my disclaimer, I love fabulous French pop music and I feature some in this chapter. Namely the song Je Te Rends Ton Amour by Mylene Farmer. It's quite pretty and I recommend everyone give it a listen.
Crazy Little Things
By: Dreiser
Weeks passed since their grand celebration and in those weeks Hermione saw less and less of Ron and more and more of Luna because of their work with Professor Ipson. Though most of the time she spent with the blonde was doing work it never felt that way to Hermione. It seemed was impossible for her to consider it such because like most people she had a tendency to associate work with the boring and often mundane. And that was never how Hermione felt when she was with Luna. Whether they were discussing potion ingredients for a cure to Harrowing Hiccups or the existence of the Fearsome Triple Footed Pimplot it was somehow always interesting to her. More than that, it was fun.
She was having so much fun that she supposed it had to come to an end eventually. When that moment arrived, it did so spectacularly. With a barrage of fireworks and explosions instead of the quiet bang and a pop that Hermione would have preferred. They had gotten into a discussion with the Professor about the revolutionary aspect of the project. How the book would change the way people in the wizarding world looked at healing children. In this discussion, Hermione remarked if they were trying to be truly revolutionary then why were they relying on the standard form of curing diseases?
For hundreds of years wizards have used potions to cure diseases, poxes, and viruses and some in the magical medical community felt this practice was outdated. Several even proving that the use of potions had created retro-viruses, that using the same potions over and over has resulted in the diseases being able to mutate magically, becoming far more deadly in the process. The only viable solution to stop this from happening, they theorized, was to cure with spells rather than potions as it was far more difficult, nearly impossible in fact, for a virus to become immune to a spell rather than potion. Considering that, Hermione reasoned, shouldn't they be developing spells to cure these diseases rather than new potions since spells would be far more effective in the long term?
Whenever they had discussions about things like this in the past Luna usually agreed with her and when she didn't, she expressed her opinions a level manner that left Hermione wondering if her thoughts were really right on the matter. The perpetual serenity that the blonde seemed to carry with her never left her in their talks and Hermione could count on seeing that peaceful smile grace her lips during their discussion. But when Hermione brought up the studies that proved spells to be superior to potions in curing diseases and preventing retro-viruses from emerging she saw that calm leave the other girl for the first time. A serious line formed on her lips and her blue eyes darkened as she said that despite what any study said, it was too dangerous to develop spells as cures for diseases. There were too many chances for something to go wrong and when it went wrong…
It was at that point that Luna stopped talking.
Hermione, however, kept right on. Speaking passionately about how progress should never be slowed by the mere chance something could go wrong. After all, how could one live their life wondering about chances? You would never get anything done for all the time spent worrying over such things. There was always danger in the unknown and that was just something that went along with being part of things that were new and innovative. And the people who were involved accepted this and still continued on, knowing what they were doing was important enough that it was worth the risk.
The Professor tried to interject, to stop anything more from being said, but it was too late. Luna had her head lowered and her body was trembling, her hands clenched into fists as she said, her voice fierce and frightening in its whisper, that there was nothing innovative and worthy in death. Nothing at all. Then she swept a pile of books into her arms, mumbling that she would return them to the library before it got too late and they shut for the night. A long and horrible silence filled the room then Professor Ipson turned to Hermione, a good deal sadness and regret evident in his gaze.
"Oh dear," Ipson said with a deep sigh, wearing a worried frown as he removed his round glasses and wiped them on his checkered vest. "I knew I should have stopped you before it got too far but I do enjoy it when students have intellectual discussions. Though the last part of that was more of a row than anything else. I suppose it's to be expected, when you consider poor Fiona."
"Fiona?" asked Hermione, tearing her eyes away from the doorway that Luna had exited through and focusing on the Professor. Stopping herself, for the moment, from following after the blonde.
"Fiona Callaghan," murmured Ipson and he went around his desk, searching through the piles of parchments and books, before he produced a faded black and white photograph sitting inside a cracked wooden frame. Taking the photograph, Hermione followed his finger as it landed above the head of an extraordinarily pretty witch with flowing blonde hair and warm twinkling eyes. When she noticed Hermione's gaze, she tilted her head in a manner that the brunette couldn't help but recognize and waved happily at the younger girl. "One of my very first students at the University." Hermione's eyes were drawn to a much younger and far thinner Professor Ipson who beamed at her from the photograph. "Though you would know her better by the name of Lovegood."
"Luna's mother," Hermione breathed and she kept her gaze fixed on the woman in the photograph who continued to smile at her in a way that she found so familiar in her daughter. Lifting her head, looking at Ipson with concern, she said, "She told me about her. How she died. But I didn't think…"
"Fiona was one of the strongest proponents for spells being used instead of potions to cure disease," said Ipson, gently taking the photograph back from the brunette. "It was shortly after she graduated here that a more deadly strain of Dragon Pox developed. One that was immune to the standard potion cure created by Gunhilda of Gorsemoor and Fiona was part of a team at St. Mungo's assigned to study it in hopes of creating a possible cure. She became convinced potions were the cause of the new strains of viruses and that the only way to permanently rid ourselves of these new viruses would be with spells."
"She died experimenting with a spell," said Hermione in a hush. The entire conversation she just had came rushing back into her mind. How she said that spells were superior to potions as cures because of retro-viruses and how anyone working on something new and innovative, such as Luna's mother had in her work to create a spell to cure the new strain of Dragon Pox, would have known and accepted the risk involved with their work. In a way it was tantamount to her saying that Luna's mother was willing to die to create that spell. To die and leave Luna and her father without a second thought. All for her work, for the sake of medical advancement, for the sake of finding that cure. Lost as she looked to Professor Ipson who wore a solemn but understanding look on his features, she said, "I never meant…" Hermione trailed off, unable to say the words, swallowing hard as she continued quietly, "Honestly, I didn't."
"I know," said Ipson kindly. "And I'm sure that Luna knows as well. But all the same," Ipson walked around his desk, reaching down for Hermione's satchel and handing it to her with a soft smile. "Perhaps it would be best if you told her that." Hermione paused, hesitating, whether out of fear of what to say to Luna or feeling the obligation to stay and continue her work with Ipson and the Professor made a shooing motion with his hands as he said, "Go on. I doubt we would get much more done tonight as it is."
For the first time in a long while, Hermione wasn't thinking as she made her way to the library. Her mind was an absolute blank as she walked into the building and started searching. She hadn't the slightest idea where she was going, she hadn't stopped to think about which books the blonde had taken from the Professor's office, how many there were and how long it would take for her to put them away. Hermione didn't have even the smallest thought in her head as she wandered through the stacks, automatically winding her way on a strange path she didn't understand until it somehow led her directly to Luna.
Three books were balanced on the top of her head, slipping backwards ever so slightly as the blonde looked up while she performed a levitating spell to put the book that had been in her arms onto the highest shelf in the stacks. Moving forward before she could stop and consider what to say, Hermione lifted a hand to steady the books before they fell to the ground and it was in that movement that Luna noticed her presence. She studied Hermione for a long moment before she reached up and removed the books from her head, gathering them close to her chest, holding them tight to her body as if they were some sort of shield that could protect her from hurt. Swallowing hard on seeing this, on seeing the pain, however faint, in Luna's blue eyes, Hermione searched her mind desperately for the right words to say. It was then that she recalled what the Professor had told her and she decided that perhaps she should simply do as he advised and say to Luna what she had said to him. No matter how awkward and stumbling it had been.
"I didn't mean what I said before," Hermione began, watching helplessly as Luna turned from her to stare off into the distance, looking at what she had no idea. "I mean, I know that's not entirely true. I do think that spells are more effective long term than potions but what I said about it being worth the risk… I didn't mean that, not in the way it sounded. Not in the way that I think it's right for people to sacrifice their lives. That's not something I'd ever agree with, no matter what good might result out of it."
"There's very little good," Luna said vaguely, her gaze still far from Hermione. "She never did find a cure."
"Luna," Hermione breathed her name more than said it, moving forward and reaching out to the younger girl before she realized what she was doing. "I'm sorry for what I said."
"I know," said Luna distantly and the books she was holding fell from her chest and she turned methodically, her eyes searching the stacks as she put the next book in the pile back where it belonged. "I know when you said that you weren't speaking about my mother and what happened to her but all the same, that's the only thing that I could think of when you were speaking. And the more you kept on speaking it changed from her to my father, the Professor, Ginny, and then you. I kept seeing these horrible things happening to all of you as they'd happened to her and in the end I simply had to leave." The last book put away, Luna finally looked at Hermione. "We never did finish our discussion."
Releasing a disbelieving laugh, Hermione shook her head, trying to grasp if it really was this easy to be forgiven by Luna because it never was with Ron, and said, "I don't think I want to finish it. Do you?"
"Not especially," said Luna, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "But I will say that I don't see very much good in one person dying for another. Anyone can say it's a terribly noble thing and perhaps that's true but shouldn't Healers be more concerned with saving everyone? Even themselves?"
"You're right," said Hermione softly and seriously. A wave of guilt seizing her, Hermione stepped forward, taking Luna's hands in her own, looking at her with wide and plaintive eyes. "I'm so sorry, Luna, honestly I am. Sometimes I get so caught up in my ideas and theories that I don't stop to think about people and their feelings. I guess that's what happens when someone becomes more comfortable with books and studies than with people as I have. They begin to lose their skills in dealing with them." Hermione gave a wry laugh as she continued, "If I had any in the first place." She remained utterly still as the blonde gently pulled one of her hands free and it moved up to push a stray lock of hair from Hermione's eyes. "Luna," Hermione said her name again, this time with an anxious sort of emphasis, almost begging for a response.
"We should go out," Luna said after some consideration, her hand falling down to bury itself in Hermione's hair, idly curling several brown locks around her index finger in a playful manner. When Hermione blinked and looked at her with a thoroughly baffled expression, the blonde smiled sweetly and said, "I don't think you have anything in particular to apologize for but at the same time I do think you're quite like the Cagey Curdsnip, unable to let something go once you've taken hold of it. That being so, the perfect solution would be for you to go out with me. You could consider it your apology and I could consider it my blackmail."
"I'll go out with you but I refuse to let you call it blackmail," replied Hermione dryly.
"Oh?" asked Luna, a mischievous smile forming on her lips as she released Hermione's hair from around her finger, allowing it to bounce back into its proper place. "Should I have said extortion instead? Or bribery perhaps? Put the squeeze?"
"Put the squeeze?" Hermione repeated with a laugh.
"Isn't that something the Muggles say?" asked Luna, frowning in contemplation. "I thought I had heard them use it on one of their criminal programs on the vellytision."
"Television," corrected Hermione, a wide smile on her features. "And I'm not sure how often anyone uses that term, Luna. Even Muggle criminals on television."
Luna released a thoughtful murmur then looked to Hermione and said quite seriously, "I'd like to go out this Friday night. Will you be busy or does putting the Muggle squeeze flatten any plans with Ron?"
There wasn't anything for Hermione to really consider. As far as she was concerned she had already promised Luna she would go out with her, regardless of the night she chose. Then there was also the fact that lately she was starting to suspect if given the chance to spend time with Ron or Luna she would choose the latter. It wasn't something she was especially proud of but that was the answer all the same. Should she take the time to process the reasons behind it, she would probably come to the conclusion that whenever she was with Luna she always felt like she was on a strange sort of adventure. To Hermione it seemed as if the other girl could make the simplest things incredibly entertaining and she was discovering that feeling to be somewhat addictive. Hermione had never considered herself to be a very fun person but when she was with Luna she thought that maybe she could be and she rather liked that feeling.
And her addiction being what it was, it didn't matter in the least when Luna wanted to go out because Hermione would say yes. Just as she did now, wearing an easy smile and already looking forward to whatever the blonde had planned. Just because she had an unwavering belief, that normally would have bothered her in its utter lack of logic, that it would be something she would enjoy.
---
Worrying over what to wear was something most would consider an innately feminine trait and since Hermione was female she supposed it was a bit odd that she had never experienced this worry herself. At least, she had never experienced it before she agreed to go out with Luna on Friday night. Hermione tried to convince herself that the reason she never felt this way was quite logical. Whenever she would go out with Ron she always knew where they were going. There was never a sense of surprise to the matter and that being so, she always knew what clothing would be appropriate.
Dealing with Luna was quite the opposite. It seemed as if everything was a surprise with the blonde witch and Hermione was rushing after her just to keep up. At times it was exhausting but it was strangely thrilling all the same. Even if it did leave her confused and worried as she stared at herself in the mirror, trying to figure out if what she was wearing suited whatever it was they would be doing tonight. Apparently sick of all this worrying, Hermione's mirror self rolled her eyes and began studying her nails, refusing to cooperate with the brunette's obsession anymore by matching her poses.
"Some help you are," muttered Hermione crossly.
Rolling her eyes again, Mirror Hermione walked out of her line of vision, disappearing somewhere within her magical mirror world, leaving the real Hermione to scowl and stare at nothing. Heaving a sigh, she was walking into her living room just as a knock sounded on her door. Then several other knocks. Seven in fact. All quiet and in a precise tapping order as if they were trying to say something to the person on the other side of the door. A smile quirking on her lips, Hermione pulled the door open and saw Luna with her hand curled in a small fist, readying to knock yet again.
"Luna," Hermione greeted, her voice laced with humor. "Whatever were you doing?"
"Saying hello and asking how your day has gone," said Luna, acting as if it was the most natural thing in the world to express this through the communication of door knocks.
Hermione chuckled and shut the door quietly, already sensing the blonde's gaze on her and trying to control the sudden shyness she felt seizing her. Turning around, she beamed in attempt to hide her nerves and asked, "Ready to go?"
"You're anxious," Luna stated, looking at Hermione with lidded blue eyes filled with concern. Hermione started to protest this assessment but the blonde interrupted gently, "That won't do at all. No one ever has fun while they're anxious. Not really and I did intend putting the squeeze on you for fun."
"I'm fine, honestly," insisted Hermione. Another moment passed then Luna sighed and firmly took hold of Hermione's hand, leading her through her flat and into her bedroom. An action which did little to settle the anxiety that the other girl had spoken about earlier. "Luna," Hermione said her name, no longer bothering to try and hide her nervousness. "What are you doing?"
Turning round to face Hermione, she folded her arms across her chest and wore a no nonsense expression on her face. Luna studied the brunette long and hard before she said, "Take off your clothes."
"What?" Hermione squeaked and her eyes grew as wide as saucers.
"You need to take off your clothes," Luna said this like it was simply a matter of logic and stepped forward, reaching out to the other girl in what Hermione assumed was an effort to carry out her words.
"Why in the world should I do that?" demanded Hermione, taking a step back for each one that Luna took forward. A huffy tone emerged in her voice and she was beginning to wonder if she should get her wand.
"Because," Luna sighed heavily, stopping her constant approach and looking at Hermione with a good deal of concern. "They're obviously infested with the Agitated Threadmites. Nasty little creatures, they love to burrow themselves in your clothing and eat at them from the inside until your pants have little frays at the bottom and your shirts no longer button. One of the side effects from having a long term infestation is an increase in anxiety and I think we've just proven quite thoroughly that's something you're suffering from. Unfortunately they're very wily and hard to kill so there's really only one way to get rid of them."
"Take off my clothes," said Hermione dimly.
"Or change them at the very least," said Luna with a nod, appearing satisfied that Hermione understood. "Besides," Luna said as an afterthought, observing as the brunette sighed and opened her closet. "Those clothes don't suit you in the least."
"They don't?" asked Hermione, looking down at said clothes and wondering what was wrong with them other than a theoretical Agitated Threadmite infestation. They were a perfectly nice pair of brown slacks and a beige button up blouse. Ron had never complained when she wore them so she couldn't possibly imagine there was something the matter since he surely would have spoken up. Perhaps they were a bit dull but it wasn't as if she was a terribly exciting dresser. "Why do you say that?"
Absently searching through Hermione's closet, Luna explained, "Clothing for people can be used like shells for a crab. They can't talk you see, the crabs, and so they pick shells to say how they're feeling. Depending on the shell they pick out it's quite easy to tell what kind of mood a crab is in. I think people are the same way. That if you look at the clothes they're wearing closely enough you can see what they're feeling."
"What did my clothes say I was feeling?" asked Hermione curious but also apprehensive at the same time. Maybe it was because she suspected the blonde was going to say she felt boring in some form.
"Nervous," said Luna, smiling as she looked over her shoulder. "But that was the fault of the Agitated Threadmites. Other than that I'd say they told me you were feeling trusty and obligated. Which is lovely, in a way, because trusty is what you always are underneath it all but I don't think obligated rather fits what I have planned for tonight which is why I think it's best if you changed."
Watching Luna arrange a pile of clothes on her bed, apparently trying to decide which ones would inspire the right feeling in Hermione for the night, she thought on what the other girl just said. The outfit she was wearing was something she'd worn several times on dates with Ron. It was easy and simple because it suited any occasion really but it wasn't like it was anything that reflected any measure of excitement over her plans. For the first time since Luna arrived, Hermione took a good look at what her friend was wearing, perhaps trying to test out the blonde's theory and get some idea of what she was feeling.
Her eyes were immediately drawn to the form fitting peacoat that hugged Luna's hips. Depending on how the light hit the material of the coat, it appeared to change colors. Shifting from a deep purple to a shining blue and sometimes a brilliant yellow. Though a bit distracting it was beautiful and perfectly suited the blonde, accenting the black pants with silver pinstripes she had on. The pants were slightly baggy and hung low over a pair of sparkling silver boots that Hermione thought were made to glow in the dark. Finishing it all off was a spaghetti string tank top that perfectly matched the silver boots Luna wore and dipped in a way that it hinted at cleavage rather than showing any off. All in all, it was an unusual choice of clothing but everything fit wonderfully and if Hermione had to pick a feeling they inspired it would have been fanciful.
The clothing flawlessly expressed what kind of person Luna was. Showing that she was charming and carefree and not in the slightest concerned about what others might think of her. She was simply herself and Hermione found herself rather wistful in her admiration of it as she considered her own selection of brown pants and a beige shirt. Hermione was still contemplating her utter lack of fashion when the blonde announced she had finished her search and skipped out the room, leaving the brunette to change.
Looking at what Luna had picked out, Hermione knew she never would have put those items of clothing together but she also knew wearing them would make the blonde happy and this night was meant as an apology of sorts. So with a sigh and a shrug, she went about the task of changing. A few moments later, Hermione was standing in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection who clucked her tongue and smiled at the new clothes with clear approval. What had seemed like a random choice of clothing had turned out to be a unique and flattering outfit. Instead of her beige button up blouse, the brunette went sleeveless, wearing only a form fitting red vest that beautifully accented her curves. She had on pants that were a favorite of hers for years now, the black material slightly faded from how much she wore them. The cloth was soft against her skin, reminding her something of velvet and it was because of this that Hermione loved wearing them. A winding silver chain link belt wrapped through the belt loops and her sensible leather shoes had been traded in for a pair of red and black converse.
Staring at her mirror self who winked at her as she adjusted the red vest so it would be just right, Hermione wondered what Luna thought these clothes said about her. What feeling they would inspire and did it match the blonde's? Shaking her head, deciding it did no good to stand in her room and think about such things while Luna was waiting for her, she left her flirtatious mirror image alone and walked out of her bedroom and into the living room where the other girl sat on the couch, petting a purring Crookshanks.
"Ah," Luna murmured happily, rising to her feet and reaching out to adjust Hermione's vest in the exact manner her mirror self had done moments earlier. "Doesn't that feel better?"
"A bit," admitted Hermione, feeling a little embarrassed at how much she liked what Luna had chosen for her but that feeling immediately leaving her as the blonde looked at her affectionately. Taking her coat and shrugging it on, the brunette purposely kept her back to the other girl as she said hesitantly, "Luna?"
"Yes?" replied Luna and without looking, Hermione knew she was petting Crookshanks again because of the loud and entirely contended purring.
"What feeling do these clothes give?" Hermione asked, keeping her back to her friend. Because of this she was unaware of Luna's approach until there was a soft touch of the blonde's hands on her hips and the gentle press of her breasts against her back.
A tremble ran through Hermione as she felt the warmth of Luna's breath on her skin as she replied, a smile in her voice, and pulled the brunette closer, "Comfortably sexy."
Silence and then Hermione burst into laughter, craning her neck to look at the blonde who beamed at her and laughing still, she accused her companion playfully, "You're having fun with me, aren't you? That's not a proper feeling, you know that!"
"Perhaps it isn't proper but it's a feeling all the same," said Luna stubbornly, looking away from Hermione as she dug into the pocket of her peacoat to produce her wand. "And it's precisely the feeling I wanted you to have while I'm putting the squeeze on you tonight." If possible, Hermione began to laugh even more on hearing this and Luna wore a quietly pleased expression as she murmured, "I do love seeing that."
"What's that?" asked Hermione, her laughter dying down into chuckles, she peered back at the blonde.
"A happy Hermione," Luna answered with a tender expression on her face and before Hermione could reply they disapparated with a wave of her wand.
---
The sound of music playing and people talking was what greeted Hermione when they apparated. There was a chill in the air and she shivered on feeling it. As soon as she did, Luna's hands were rubbing at her arms and the chill soon left her. Although her curiosity about their location didn't. Looking around, she saw they were at the end of a line filled with twenty or so witches and wizards, all waiting to go inside what appeared to be a club of some sort. Standing at the front of the line, off to one side, was a wizard whose black robes bore the glowing words Danse Magie Danse just as the brightly lit sign above him did.
Before Hermione could question where they were, she felt Luna's warm breath once again on her skin as the blonde murmured in her ear, "This is the Incantation Secteur of Paris. It's a safe place for witches and wizards, rather like Diagon Alley. Muggles have no idea it's here."
"Why are we here?" asked Hermione, though she already had a sneaking suspicion.
Luna didn't reply because without the brunette noticing, they had reached the front of the line. The wizard who was standing off to one side, bearing the name of the club on his robes, gave Luna a glittering smile and murmured something in French that caused the blonde to giggle. They were soon in what appeared to be a coat check area where a lovely witch with spun gold hair done up in an elaborate bun released an ecstatic cry on seeing Luna and begin speaking rapidly in French. Removing her coat after observing the blonde doing the same, Hermione was surprised to see her friend also hand over her wand. Touching her wand that was safely tucked into the pocket of her vest, Hermione frowned at the French witch who she was sure was asking for it as she wore something of an impatient look on her features.
"They collect wands to prevent duels from popping up," Luna explained. "Don't fret," she wore a reassuring expression. "I've left my wand with Corinne countless times and she's always taken the utmost care of it."
While she was reluctant to hand over her wand, especially after everything that had happened to her in recent years, Hermione couldn't help but believe in Luna on seeing the look of complete trust she had on her features. She handed her coat and wand over to Corinne and restrained herself from scowling on seeing the witch give an enchanting but also smug smile. Watching Luna retrieve some galleons and sickles from the pockets of her pinstriped pants, she asked, "How much is it?"
"Nothing for you," said Luna serenely, smiling at Hermione before giving Corinne the money.
"Luna--" Hermione started to protest.
"Absinthe Apology," interrupted Luna, saying this as if it were a great announcement. Hermione blinked at her in confusion and she hooked their arms together, saying a quick goodbye to Corinne in French as they walked towards the sound of the music that the brunette had heard earlier. "If you must pay for something, do pay for the drinks. I shall order an Absinthe Apology to start."
"I didn't know you could speak French," said Hermione who was trying very hard not to feel out of place. It was true that when she was with Luna she felt life was fun and exciting, because it was, but sometimes she didn't always feel at ease with that. She didn't do well with situations she couldn't predict, preferring the comfort of books and study where anything unexpected came in the form of the written word. And she was sure that she wouldn't be able to predict what would happen once they reached the source of the music that was vibrating through the walls, floor, and into their bodies. "They don't teach it at Hogwarts, do they?"
"I don't," said Luna, looking to Hermione with some surprise and a bit of concern. "I used the translation spell you told me about in your seventh year. Interpretatio, don't you remember? I was ever so glad when you pointed it out to me. It's been terribly useful on my expeditions." Hermione was busy trying to recall when she had told the blonde about the spell and wondering how in the world she could have forgotten about its existence, however momentarily, when Luna paused in their walk. They were standing in front of a wooden door that had a picture of a coffee cup carved into it. The blonde unhooked her arm from Hermione's and moved to stand in front of the brunette. She tilted her head to one side and studied Hermione for a long moment then said a little sadly, "You're feeling anxious again."
Part of Hermione wanted to dispute this but she just couldn't do it. Perhaps because she knew Luna was right. She was feeling anxious and there wasn't much she could do about it other than admit it as the truth. "I'm sorry," Hermione found herself apologizing but for what she had no idea.
"These clothes don't have Agitated Threadmites so it must be something else," said Luna and she frowned, looking like she was concentrating very hard to figure out what it might be. Several patrons of the club were heading towards them and the blonde took Hermione's hand in her own and pulled her over to the corner of the room that was secluded. Wearing an expression of genuine concern, Luna questioned, "Do you not feel comfortable? Is it me? The club? Or perhaps France? I've always thought this country smells of crepes. It does take some time to get used to."
Forming a smile, unable to help finding humor in Luna's words, Hermione shook her head. "It isn't you, the club, or even France," said Hermione. She paused to try and find the right words to explain what it was but found herself at a loss and simply began talking before she could sort it all out. "Perhaps it's me? I'm not entirely sure to be honest. I just… it's a bit sad, really, but I don't think I do very well when I haven't an idea of what to expect and since I've never been to a place such as this I find myself in precisely that situation." Rubbing her forehead and feeling frustrated with herself, Hermione muttered, "I know it's ridiculous. Ron's said as much. That I fall to pieces without having a plan of any sort but I can't help it. I find myself freezing and it's the most horrid feeling. Knowing I ought to move, I need to move, but not being able."
Cool hands covered her own, gently drawing them away from her forehead and then they returned, soft fingertips touching her skin in a magnificently skilled caress, the movement perfect and relaxing in its press. Several moments passed before Luna felt she had rubbed enough of the worry away and she murmured, "What if you try to move by following after me? I promise to look after you and make sure you never become frozen. Maybe that way you wouldn't feel so anxious." Hermione sighed as the blonde's fingertips swept across her forehead and moved down to trace the line of her jaw. "There," Luna hooked her thumb under the brunette's chin, lifting it up so the other girl looked into her twinkling blue eyes. "Don't you feel comfortably sexy?"
Dropping her head down to rest on Luna's shoulder, Hermione chuckled softly. "You're daft," she accused with good humor. Lifting it up to look at the other girl, she reached for the blonde's hand and gave it a light squeeze. "Come on," she murmured. "I owe you a drink."
"Yes," Luna agreed, smiling sweetly, "you do."
Keeping her hand firmly placed in the blonde's and lacing their fingers together, Hermione released a shuddering sigh as Luna pushed open the wooden door and revealed the interior of the club. It was large and completely circular, reminding Hermione of Professor Ipson in a strange way. There were several levels, each one winding down into the next, and each of them consisting of severely different things to captivate the patrons attention. At the very bottom there was an enormous round dance floor that was filled to the brim with witches, wizards, elves, and even a few veela.
The level that they had walked into was a café of sorts, it had a warm and friendly atmosphere. Witches and wizards were gathered around a variety of tables, sipping at their coffee, pumpkin juice, and butterbeer, busy chatting about any number of things. Luna squeezed Hermione's hand and led her through the café, pushing open a door that had a music note carved into it and suddenly they were inside a small music club. The stage was long and dimly lit, a beautiful singer with deep purple hair whose voice was rich and full as she sang about the darkness before the fall and without hearing anymore, Hermione knew the song was about Voldemort and the world before his defeat.
"Do you want to stay and have a listen?" questioned Luna, her voice soft in Hermione's ear.
Turning to look at her friend, Hermione studied their surroundings, the odd assortment of tall tables, the long stage, and bar that was directly across from it, then looked back at the door that had a coffee cup carved into it. "How is it that we can't hear anything from the café we were just inside?" said Hermione, genuinely curious about the answer. Luna started to reply and Hermione said with wry humor, "And don't say magic. I figured as much."
"Silencing spells, quite powerful ones, I would imagine," said Luna and her eyes drifted to the stage where the singer was beginning her next set, joined by a wizard holding an instrument that looked a combination of a banjo and a guitar. "They have one for each level of the club and I believe the doors are the activators, acting as barriers when they close, keeping the sound from the next level out."
Considering this for a moment, Hermione looked to Luna as the wizard on stage started a strange series of plucking sounds and tugged on her hand. "Lets go," she murmured with a smile.
"Are you sure?" asked Luna, studying the other girl closely.
"Somehow I don't think this is where you meant to take me," said Hermione, her tone of voice faintly sardonic as she made her way through the tall tables and towards the wooden door on the other end of the room that had a chess rook carved into it.
She opened it to reveal a game room of sorts. There were a number of round tables filled to the brim with wizards and a few witches, all playing a variety of games from Wizard Chess to Exploding Snap and even a game or two of Gobstones. Taking a brief look at one of the chess games that were going on, Hermione contemplated telling Ron about this place because he would surely enjoy it. As soon as this thought came into her mind it soon exited and a small scowl formed on her face as she imagined what would happen if she did bring Ron here. He would spend the entire night playing Wizard Chess and she would be thoroughly forgotten in the process. Much like what had happened the night of her supposed grand celebration because of the Big Pot going on. Suddenly quite determined to exit this level, Hermione walked towards the door with a broom carved into it with increased speed.
What greeted her next only served to remind her of Ron yet again. Simply because they were now inside a bar much like Peasegood's Pub in London. Except this bar was dedicated to Quidditch rather than Quodpot. It was overflowing with an assortment of Quidditch fans, all wearing the colors of their chosen teams, gathered around a wide collection of cauldrons that bubbled and brewed images of matches being played all over the world. At the far end of the room she saw a wizard wearing a Chudley Cannons jersey as he cheered them on in a match against the Falmouth Falcons. Though she didn't think it possible, Hermione moved even faster through this bar, pulling Luna after her as she pushed open the last door which displayed a pair of shoes clicking the heels together.
They had finally arrived at the last level of the club and where Hermione suspected Luna meant to take her. Suddenly losing her sense of momentum, the brunette stopped in her tracks as that awful feeling of inaction that she had described earlier took control of her. But Luna was there, her hand warm and reassuring in Hermione's, fingertips lightly caressing her palm and she gently pulled the brunette forward. Her body moving on automatic, Hermione studied their surroundings. From the first level of the café she could tell, looking down, that there was a dance floor at the bottom but the view hadn't allowed her to truly grasp the sheer size of it. To Hermione it seemed as if the entire structure was based around the large round surface that glinted with lights and vibrated from the music and the movement of the wizards and witches covering it.
Winding their way through the crowd, they headed towards the long bar that curved around the dance floor, taking up half of the outside space. Luna stood on her tiptoes and waved at one of the bartenders who made his way over with a smile on his face. "Two Absinthe Apologies please," she ordered and the wizard gave a wink then with a flash of light several bottles of alcohol appeared, each of them pouring liquid into the two shot glasses that mixed themselves once they were filled. Waiting for the fizzing and popping to dwindle to a stop, Luna reached for one of the glasses and handed it to Hermione who took it with an entirely reluctant look on her features. Moving close to whisper in her ear, perhaps to ensure the brunette heard her over the loud beat of the music, Luna's breath tickled her skin as she murmured, "Don't worry. It's wonderfully delicious."
Observing as the blonde finished the drink in one quick swallow, Hermione studied the green fizzing liquid for a moment before she followed suit. The taste was cool and sweet on her tongue and with a hint of fruity aftertaste that she found surprisingly pleasing. She started to tell Luna that she was right, the drink was wonderfully delicious, but noticed the blonde had been pulled aside by a tall wizard with oddly puffed black hair. Left to her own devices, Hermione's gaze traveled over the club, watching the dancing witches and wizards who, to her, seemed so much more free than herself. There was little doubt in her mind that Luna had brought her here to dance and that wasn't something Hermione normally did. In fact, if her memory was correct, the last time she had danced was at the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum in her fourth year. While she did have fun at the ball with Viktor, particularly dancing with him, it wasn't something that Ron tended to enjoy and since it was Ron she had been dating for the past three years she hadn't gone dancing since. Part of her wondered if she was really able, if she could be as carefree and happy as the people on the dance floor, and a sudden feeling of dread seized her. And she could only think of one way to rid herself of that feeling.
By the time Luna finished chatting with the puffy haired wizard, there were four empty shot glasses sitting in front of Hermione at the bar. The blonde failed to notice this as she stepped closer to her friend and leaned in, murmuring in her ear, "I think we should have a dance."
No reply came from Hermione, she simply dipped her head in agreement and Luna smiled, bright and utterly brilliant before taking the brunette's hand and leading her onto the dance floor. They easily slipped through the crowd and onto the round structure that glowed and hummed. Perhaps it was the alcohol but when she first stood on it, Hermione felt lighter, as if she was being lifted up. It was a dizzying feeling and she held onto Luna's hand that much tighter as they moved towards the center of the dance floor. A new song began playing, slow and dramatic at first, then an ethereal voice filled the air, French and haunting, and everyone on the dance floor began swaying in time with it. Hermione watched with a small degree of panic while they all paired up but then she felt the warmth of Luna's hand trailing down her side to rest on her hip. She looked to the blonde as her other hand followed the same path and for a moment it was as if she couldn't breath. Then the music swelled, becoming louder and more insistent and Luna pulled her closer, their bodies pressed together and slowly Hermione let the blonde guide her as they moved with the music.
The alcohol and music swimming in her brain, Hermione sighed, hiding her face in soft and silken white blonde hair, breathing in the scent of raspberries that Luna always seemed to carry with her. Why had this been so terribly scary to her? It wasn't scary at all, it was relaxing. Frighteningly so. Hermione didn't think she had ever felt as peaceful and content as she did right now, being held in Luna's arms, and that was a terrifying thought in a way. Because what did it say about her and her relationship with Ron? That she had never felt this at ease with him, this protected, and this cared for? She wanted to contemplate this further but she couldn't, not with the alcohol addling her thoughts and especially not with the warm press of Luna's body against hers. The feeling was too nice and too new to ruin with her constant need to analyze. Why couldn't she simply be and enjoy the moment?
And so, Hermione swayed to the music, safe in the circle of Luna's arms, vowing not to think about the how's or the why's of this situation. Allowing herself, for once in her life, the luxury of being able to just feel. Regardless of the consequences.
To be continued...
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