It was a happy Saturday morning, and Hermione hummed softly to herself as she wiped the kitchen counter with a flick of her wand. The cheerful knock at the door made leave her wand on the table and trip down the hall to the front door.

"Hermione!"

Luna swept into the apartment in a yellow dress with her characteristic turnip earrings; her hair piled on top of her head.

"So good to see you, Luna!" Hermione gave Luna a kiss on the cheek. "How have you been? Come into the kitchen, we can make some tea!"

"Good, thank you Hermione," said Luna, as she tripped down the hall of the teensy apartment. "No tea for me, thank you. I'm only drinking water and papaya juice at the moment!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows only slightly as she pulled the kettle out of the cupboard. "Papaya juice?"

"For the bad dreams." Luna pulled a paintbrush out of the knots in her hair and started dabbling it about in the air. "It's starting to work. You should try it."

"I'm sorry, I don't have any on hand right now! I could floo to the shops, or – "

"Oh no, don't worry. I bring some with me wherever I go now." Luna reached her arm into her sling bag, and pulled out a small green bottle. "You have to dilute it," she said. "It's very strong."

Hermione gave a laugh. "All right then, papaya juice it is!" She lifted cups out of the cupboard over the stove.

Luna made swirls in the air with her paintbrush; her legs crossed up on the kitchen stool. "Do you have bad dreams, Hermione?" she said.

Hermione paused. Did she? There were some, certainly. But no more than would usually be expected after all the trauma that came with defeating Voldemort and being in hiding for a year. "I suppose," she said cautiously. "But not bad."

"Mine stopped," nodded Luna, understandingly. "But they're back now. Voldemort is always back and he's going for Harry. Neville always dies in them. It's awful."

Luna had this funny habit of sharing trauma at unexpected moments. This was one of them. Hermione cleared her throat. "I'm sorry," she said. "Have you told your therapist? You're seeing one, aren't you?"

"Yes," said Luna. "She thinks it's trauma. I think that it's something else."

"Like what?"

Luna waved her paintbrush; the spiral left odd tracks in the air. Like glitter; only it faded after a moment. Hermione held her breath as the tracks glittered out.

Then Luna shrugged. "Probably nothing," she said, very un-Luna like. "Anyway, we better get onto why we're actually here. The Christmas party!"

Hermione took the obvious cue, and the two of them launched into a discussion of who to invite. It had already been decided that the party was to be at the Weasley's – once they had set up the tent in the garden it would be the biggest space available. Hermione had taken on the job of organising the event, and Luna had offered to help.

They were deciding seating plans. "I want Harry next to Anna," insisted Hermione. "They'd complement each other perfectly."

"All right, as long as you sit next to Ron, and I sit next to you," said Luna, with a wink.

"Very well!" Hermione wrote down Luna and Anna's names with a flourish. "Now, what about Neville? I suppose that he's next to Hannah?"

"They broke up, didn't they?" said Luna quickly.

"They did too. I keep forgetting, it's awful." Hermione frowned. "They're still friends though, so it would probably be fine – what do you think?"

"He can probably go next to me, probably," said Luna, very quickly. "On my right? And Hannah can be across from him, I guess? Though she'd rather sit next to Parvarti, I'm sure."

Hermione smirked. "All right then, Luna, have it your way. You can sit next to Neville if that's what you want."

"I do," said Luna, and stuck out her chin.

"You know," said Hermione, as she wrote down Neville's name on the plan, "You really do need to get in there, Luna Lovegood. I'm sick of thirdwheeling."

Luna threw her paintbrush at her, and Hermione laughed so hard she tipped her forgotten papaya juice over with her elbow. It dripped down onto the floor in a sticky orange trail.

/

Later that afternoon, Hermione was wondering through Diagon Alley; large sunglasses hiding her face, an cup of steaming butterbeer in one hand, and Ron's in the other. They were peering in shop windows and laughing as they made their way down the Alley.

They had gone far in their wanderings, wrapped up in each others company. As they passed the entrance to Knockturn Alley, Hermione froze, jerking Ron back. "What is it?"

"Anna!" cried Hermione. A passing witch glanced up, and then froze at the unexpected meeting. In a moment, she had regained her composure, and her face lit up with a smile. She shouldered her bag and approached the couple.

"Hermione, how are you? I didn't expect to meet you here!"

"Anna this is Ron. Ron, this is Anna, my assistant. You know, at work."

Ron smiled and shook Anna's hand; her eyes glinted at him, cold in the chilly air. He gave a little, uncontrollable shiver.

"We were just going back to Ron's," Hermione was explaining. "He runs the icecream shop."

"Oh, how quaint!" smiled the blonde witch. Ron gave a grimace. "I suppose you live nearby?"

"Above the shop, actually," said Ron.

"Indeed!"

"Did you want to walk with us?" asked Hermione. "Where were you heading?"

"I was going back to the pub exit," said Anna. "Just finishing up."

"The Pub exit is on the way to Ron's! You must join us!"

"What were you finishing up, down Knockturn Alley?" asked Ron. Hermione elbowed him, and he let out a little squeak.

"Oh – just a survey on Muggle's relations." Anna gave a smile. "Can't say I'm too popular down there right now." She gestured down the Alley, and Ron shook his head.

"It would have worried me if you were."

"Ron!" hissed Hermione. Then she seized Anna's arm. "You must walk back with us."

"If I must," grinned Anna, and the two set off, chattering away, leaving Ron to follow behind; hands deep in pockets and brain deep in thought.

The icecream shop was empty. Ron was still expecting his winter stock – it was late, the recent attacks leading to slow transport in goods – meaning that until the icecream that promised to warm you up arrived, people would have to buy regular cold icecream. Meaning that trade had rather slowed. The tinkle of the door as they entered made the sixteen year old that worked there look up hurriedly.

"All good, it's just us," said Ron wearily. The sixteen year old nodded and pretended to look busy behind the counter.

"Well, lovely to catch up," Anna was saying, "But I really have to head off now."

"Are you sure? Would you like to stay for a cuppa?" insisted Hermione. Ron shrugged off his coat with a sigh.

"I'd love to, but I have things to do," said Anna, smiling apologetically. "How about another time, what about – " She froze suddenly, staring behind Hermione.

Both Ron and Hermione turned, to find a sheepish looking Harry Potter shutting the 'staff only' door behind him. "Hi guys, sorry Ron – oh, it's you!" His eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly.

Ron glanced back at Anna, who had completely regained her composure. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" she said loftily, fixing her gloves.

"Yeah, we met outside the pub, remember? And on the bus? This was months ago, I understand if you don't remember?"

"Um, I hate to interrupt this little reunion," said Ron, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "But may I ask what you were doing in my house?"

"Sorry mate, had to borrow some sugar, and I knew you had some," said Harry. Hermione snorted. "You said I could come round anytime, remember?"

"Yeah, just thought I'd get some warning." Ron gave a chuckle. "All good mate."

"So wait – you guys have met?" Hermione seized Anna's hand. "You didn't tell me that you've met Harry!"

"I haven't!" insisted Anna with a smile. "Wait – is this the Harry?"

"Yes! Harry Potter!"

"We've met already though!" said Harry, grinning. "Outside the Leaky Cauldron, remember! This was what, in June? Surely you remember!"

"I was nowhere near in London in June!" Anna fixed her cold blue eyes on Harry, and he had to look away. "I was in Belgium!"

"But it was you! I remember your eyes, it was definitely you! Don't you remember the thugs?"

"The thugs? Excuse me?" Anna smiled. "I do not tend to make my company around thugs."

"But it was you! We were outside the Cauldron and I fired a spell and the thugs left and you were on the ground, and you were crying … " Harry trailed off as all three of them gave him blank stares.

"Harry," said Hermione, very firmly. "Anna says she has never met you before. She hasn't."

"But we have!"

"Leave it."

"It's nothing," said Anna with a smile, waving her hand and dismissing the argument. "At least we've met now. Harry, I'm Anna, Hermione's assistant." She held out her hand.

Harry walked slowly towards her and shook her hand. Her eyes pierced into him, and he let go grimly. "Nice to meet you, Anna."

"Very nice to meet you too. Harry."

She smiled at him, and Harry felt instinctively that her smile was anything but. He glared back.

"Well, it was lovely seeing you all, but I'm afraid I have to go." Anna gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek, and shook hands with Ron. "I'll see you on Monday, Hermione!"

"Bright and early! Have a good weekend!"

Hermione's smile only lasted until Anna had left the store, the bell tinkling as the door closed.

She turned on her heel, and glared fiercely at Harry. "I really cannot believe you, Harry Potter! Why did you have to annoy her like that? Can't you take no for an answer?"

"Hermione. I have seen her before. And her name isn't Anna. It's Eve. Unless she was lying about that – "

"You have absolutely no right!" cried Hermione. "I cannot believe you right now!"

"Hermione, you're overreacting!" said Ron.

Hermione turned the glare onto her boyfriend. "Excuse me, Ronald Weasley! Anna explicitly said, several times, that she had not met Harry, and he just went on insisting that he had! Did no one ever teach you manners, Harry?"

"Actually, no, no one did," snapped Harry.

"Oh, don't give me that rubbish," returned Hermione. "You and your hero's complex. You just wanted to mention a time when you had saved someone, didn't you? That one time that you had made one good impression with a girl?"

"Hero's complex? I'm sorry if saving the world gave me a hero's complex, Hermione, I really am." Harry pushed his glasses firmly up his nose. "And I wasn't fishing for a compliment, I was wondering if she'd remember me, who, I don't know, saved her life!"

"You saved a lot of people's lives, Harry. But not Anna's."

"Oh, so defeating Voldermort didn't save her life? I see, I'll just take that delivery right back!"

"All right, all right!"

Ron had managed to get between his fuming friends. Hermione's hands were clenched and she was glaring fiercely, her hair falling about her shoulders in its bush; Harry's arms were crossed and he too was glaring, his normal good nature forgotten.

"Let's calm it down," said Ron. "Hermione, let's go get a cup of tea into you. Harry, mate, why don't you head off and we'll catch up another time."

"Don't you dare side with Harry!" Hermione cried. "He was the rude one in this situation!"

"Harry …"

"I'm going," glared Harry, bursting out of the shop and slamming the door behind him. The bell twinkled savagely.

The sixteen year old staff member, forgotten about in the yelling, peeked up from behind the counter of the shop. "Um – Ron, not to bother you but when should I finish later?"

"Yeah, stay a couple of hours please, I'll pay you extra," called Ron from the staff door, which he shut and closed gently behind him.

It was going to take a lot of tea to calm Hermione down, that was for sure.

/

Luna stood up suddenly from her painting. "Hermione! What is it?"

A glaring Hermione's face had appeared in the fireplace. "Bad news, I'm afraid," she said. "We're going to have to switch Harry out in the seating plan. He can't sit next to Anna anymore."

"Oh dear!" said Luna. "What happened?"

"He was very rude," said Hermione. "And I am very angry."

"I'd swallow a beetle," suggested Luna. "It gets rid of anger. It has to be whole, though. Legs and all."

Hermione's glowing face grimaced. "Thanks Luna. Just change it on your copy, will you? Thanks, bye."

She disappeared with a burst of smoke.

Luna sighed, and picked up her paintbrush. She added a blob of brown to Hermione's nose, and a brush of pink to Neville's cheeks. She paused –

And gently kissed the wet painting.

/

Excuse all the angst in this chapter. I wrote it when I thought Brooklyn 99 was being cancelled so I was very angry. (that also gives you, the reader, an indication of how long ago I wrote this chapter. Wooohooooo.)

Review? xx