Disclaimer: Characters, settings, and themes from the Harry Potter universe are property of J.K Rowling. I neither own, nor am making profit from the writing or sharing of this story.
If there was one place where she felt safe, as if the war couldn't touch her, it was the library. Surrounded by endless words and ideas and people that Hermione would, herself, never encounter, the library of Hogwarts had become her sanctuary. It was her home. While others were wrapped up in the trivial pursuits of acquiring the newest Honeyduke's delight or gossiping about how Tracey was dumped by Seth over their potions cauldron, Hermione was enveloped in the smell of old parchment.
Routine was something that she could count on. It was familiar, something that she knew and could rely on. It wouldn't run away or leave the difficult decisions in her hands. That was precisely how she came to be surrounded by Arithmancy texts of various levels and languages. Secluded in a far corner of the library, Hermione's over-burdened hair stood as frazzled as it'd ever been. She tugged and twirled endlessly, chewing the frayed end of her quill in agitation.
"This just isn't going to work. I'll never get these equations in time. It just… I can't."
"You can't what?" Hermione startled, tossing her quill from her and spraying ink across a parchment so revised that it was nearly illegible.
"Luna!" Hermione squeaked. "You startled me." She began gathering her papers and settling them around her in neat stacks.
"Is everything all right, Hermione? You look a bit… tired."
"Ha. It's funny you say that, Luna. I am feeling tired, now that I think of it."
"You realize everyone has gone to bed for the night, yes?"
"Yes, Luna. Thank you. I should get going soon myself." Hermione was shoving things in her bag now. Her thin hands wrapped around an ink pot, lifting it then nearly dropping it to the desk. Luna raised an eye brow and reached out to steady her. "Uhm. Thanks, Luna, really. I think I've got this now. I guess I'll see you in the morning." With that, Hermione tried to shove the last book in her bag and skirt around the slender blonde. Luna smiled and shifted to watch as Hermione slung the canvas strap over her shoulder.
It wasn't until Hermione was around the corner that she realized she'd left a book on the table. Afraid of what Madam Pince would think, she hurried back to tuck it away. As she reached the shelf and was just setting it into place, a soft voice, a familiar voice, called her name.
"Hermione."
She spun, falling directly into Luna's grasp. Together, they laughed, but Hermione tensed when Luna didn't let go. Instead, the blonde ran a thumb against the inside of her elbow where she braced one arm. The hair on Hermione's arms jumped to attention. Her breathing grew shallow and confused.
"Luna?" Statement or question, she was unsure which she wanted it to be.
"There are things you know. There are things you will know. There are things you are yet to know. However, sometimes there are things you need to let go of in order to know." At her confused look, Luna smiled. It was perfectly oblivious. Without any more preamble, she lifted one hand to cup Hermione's chin and gently swiped her lips against those of the silent woman in front of her. "Let everything else go."
Before she could process what was happening, Luna's lips were on hers again and that was all she could manage to think about. The soft swipe of a tongue and then they were breathing heavily into the sway of one another's bodies, feeling the roaming fingers and clutching grasp of unsaid yearnings which remained tied around their dueling tongues. Hermione was the first to break—the first to try and push back, but Luna's clever fingers had already climbed up her inner thigh and were, even then, flirting with the desire pooled there. The brunette gasped, bracing against the nearest shelf and cursing at herself when a book tumbled to the floor, landing hard on its spine. Luna laughed, a high, tinkling sound that shook Hermione loose from the inside out.
Hermione sat up, blinked, and looked around. She was alone amongst the vast aisles of books at the desk she'd been revising at the night prior. Before her lay sprawled the many books she'd pulled. Her breathing quickened. She stood upright, nearly knocking over the same inkpot. Or was it? She couldn't remember.
"Is everything all right, Hermione? You look a bit… tired."
Hermione's arms dropped to her sides as she gulped in air a bit too quickly. She grabbed her bag and ran from the library.
"What is something I said?" Luna frowned for just a moment. Shrugging, she continued forward, adjusting the inkpot to allow a trapped Nargle to escape its inky depths. "Much better."