Notes: Birthday fic for my wife. XD She wanted Luna/Hermione, so here you go! :) Also, this is very AU and set in fifth year.
It's routine by now. Every Hogsmeade visit, Hermione and Luna slip off from the rest of their friends for lunch. It's an unusual friendship. The know-it-all and the loony. Harry and Ron don't say anything, but Hermione can see the bafflement in Ron's eyes. He still slips up and calls Luna "Loony," and Hermione always lambastes him for it. He doesn't understand, and Hermione refuses to tell him how much it hurts her, how the girl with bare feet and straggly blonde hair still cries when her shoes are hidden in the rafters, when her classmates hiss how mental she is behind her back. She hides it all behind a dreamy look and an airy smile, but Hermione knows better.
She's seen it more than once. Luna slipping off to an empty classroom, putting up silencing spells and disillusionment charms before the tears spill free, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. It's never angered Hermione more to come across the Ravenclaw fourth year after Malfoy decides to sneer to her that it's a good thing her mum's dead so she doesn't have to deal with her crazy daughter, but then again, that's probably where Loony gets it. Hermione hexes him fiercely behind his back for a week, landing him in the Hospital Wing three times. He never knows who did it, but Hermione doesn't care. She doesn't need recognition. It's worth it just to see the mirth light up Luna's silvery eyes, to see her radish earrings bob with the force of her silent laughter.
She doesn't know when she started to fall in love with Luna. Hasn't she always liked boys? She doesn't know that you can like both. She just knows that her heart jumps when she sees Luna's distinctive pale hair in a crowd, when the fourth year twirls and shows off another outfit put together from tulle scraps and lace, butterbeer cork necklace bouncing against her collarbones. She just knows when she looks into Luna's eyes, or watches the fireflies sparkle outside the window with her, pointing out each one and making up stories about where they've come from, she feels like she's home. Sometimes, when she hugs Luna good night and feels the girl's slight body against hers, she wonders what it would feel like to press her lips against Luna's, to feel the whisper of her breath ghost across her throat as she licks and nips her way across Hermione's collarbones.
She can't say anything, though. It might ruin everything. Luna's the best friend she's ever had-which surprises Hermione, when she thinks about it. When she first met Luna, sitting cross-legged in a train compartment, reading the Quibbler upside-down, she thought the girl was barmy. Now, she knows she's anything but.
Does Luna like girls that way? Hermione hasn't noticed Luna ever pay attention to anyone that way. Then again, one look at the blonde-haired girl with radishes in her ears telling everyone so urgently about Nargles in the mistletoe, and most people seem to sod off in general. Hermione doesn't know what to think of Nargles, not after Luna shows her a very pale, squiggly sort of creature wrapped around a bit of ivy and glaring at her. If it's not a Nargle, Hermione doesn't know what the hell it is, and she's researched magical creatures until they parade through her dreams.
"Hi, Hermione!" Luna says cheerfully in her ear, making her jump, her wand falling into her hand automatically as she whirls.
"Oh, sorry, Luna," Hermione blushes crimson as she hastily returns her wand to its holster strapped along her arm and gives her friend a smile. Luna only smiles back, tucking a strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear.
"It's all right, Hermione," Luna assures her, taking her arm and dragging her into The Three Broomsticks. "Perhaps a Blibbering Humdinger was distracting you!"
No, it's because I was thinking about snogging you, Hermione longs to say, but doesn't dare. Harry, Ron, and Seamus are already there, but Luna pulls her past, into a more secluded corner. Some secret corner of Hermione's heart, that rebels against books and logic, rejoices at this.
Stop it! she snaps at herself as she sits down across from the star-eyed girl. We always do this, it's not like it's new! Still, her heart can't help but flutter as Luna sits down across from her, looking unusually somber.
"I have something to tell you, Hermione," Luna whispers, nibbling her bottom lip in a gesture of nervousness Hermione has never seen her do before. "It's very important. It might even affect our friendship. Everything."
"What is it, Luna?" Hermione asks, her heart stuttering in her chest.
"I saw Crumple-Horned Snorkack tracks outside," Luna says solemnly. "There could be one in the area."
"...Oh," Hermione says weakly as she leans back in the booth. "Well, um, perhaps?"
"Oh, and Hermione? I really like you," Luna says, her face serene. "Would you go out with me?"
"Y-yes," Hermione stammers, and suddenly, Luna is leaning across the table, and Hermione is meeting her halfway, and their lips crash together in the sweetest symphony Hermione has ever known.
It is perfect.