A/N: First off, If you're at all curious about what the old Finnish woman told Hermione, it was this: "He has a firm bottom!" Hermione didn't know that when she replied, "You can say that again."

Wow! There was... not a lot of enthusiasm when Severus showed up last chapter. I was surprised, since I thought people would like his naked sauna chat with Hermione. Er... so here's a chapter with a character you all seem to prefer?

4: The Puffskein

Luna had taken it it in stride when Hermione showed up at her office the next morning. 'You're back early,' she stated, dressed in a woven caftan as she reclined on a lounge chair in the corner.

Hermione took a seat across from Luna's desk, expecting her friend to join her so they could get down to brass tacks. When the blonde didn't budge from her spot, didn't cross to the more official place of authority within the room, Hermione swiveled her chair around to face her friend. 'Yes, I am. There was no rest to be found there. Not when—'

'Where did you go, if you don't mind my asking?' Luna said, stretching languidly like a cat getting up from a sunny spot after a nap.

Silence filled the room as Hermione considered the implications of Luna's words. 'You... You don't know? You don't know where you just sent me?'

Luna shook her head. 'I don't send people anywhere, Hermione. The magic does. I don't even know where people go until I receive a postcard. You didn't send a postcard this time, therefore I do not know where the magic sent you.'

Hermione paused. 'Really? That's... that's...' She shook her head, befuddled. 'Then what do you do exactly? I always thought you booked the hotels and the transportation, arranged for meals, et cetera, et cetera. Surely you need to know where we're going in order to line everything up?'

'I do perform all those tasks,' Luna said, rising to stand. She continued a strange series of stretches and twists from there. 'For each location, I organise a number of hotels, inns, restaurants, and whatnot. I do it all in advance. However, I believe that client privacy is paramount, and I trust that the magic will transport people wherever they need to go. Besides, you mentioned rest. A holiday is not necessarily about rest. Sometimes you don't need rest, but something else entirely.'

Harrumphing in her chair, Hermione grumbled, 'If it's not rest that your magic thinks I need, I think your magic is—'

'So where did you go?' Luna asked, interrupting her before she had the chance to say something rude.

'Finland. A little inn in a forest in the north.'

'At Pallas-Yllästunturi? I adore that place,' Luna said.

'You've been?' Hermione asked.

Nodding, Luna said, 'Lucius and I were sent there two summers ago. The midnight sun was exhilarating and the private sauna was just what we needed. We found that if you keep the temperature lower than a traditional sauna, you can maintain a tantric connection for hours with—'

'A private sauna?' Hermione asked. 'Why didn't my cabin have a private sauna?'

Luna shrugged. 'The magic must have known that you didn't need it. Lucius and I, on the other hand, did. The Finns have a statement about behaving in a sauna the same way you behave in church. It wouldn't be polite to have tantric sex in front of others if they weren't expecting it, and for some reason, Lucius doesn't like to be naked in public. I respect his choice.'

'I could have desperately used a little privacy,' Hermione said. 'I was forced into a public sauna with complete strangers—'

'Marvelous! Finns are lovely—'

'Yes, they are, but how on earth did Severus Snape find a cabin at the exact same lodge in the middle of nowhere, Luna? Finland! Who travels to Finland in the wintertime?' Hermione asked. She paced the length of the room as she stared at the beach paradise on the walls, taunting her with its perfect palm leaves blowing in the wind. Clearly, she thought, there's only one explanation for how Snape showed up to bother her. 'Did he come see you about a holiday, too?'

She shook her head. 'Severus has never seen me about his bookings.'

Hermione was at the end of her rope. 'You didn't plan this?'

Luna grabbed her wand and spoke into its pointy end. 'Gerald, we're going to need some chocolate and a little whisky with the biscuits today.'

A distorted honking that Hermione assumed was the receptionist's reply came from the geranium.

Luna spoke again. 'Yes, one of the bottles that Lucius hides from his clients. One that's old enough to order its own whisky. And some papaya juice, please.' Then Luna looked up at her friend. 'Hermione, I think you should know that I never direct anything at all. That's not how this system works. I am merely a conduit for forces greater than I.'

Hermione flopped down on the chaise, draping an arm over her eyes. 'Then how did this happen?'

A rap at the door alerted them to the whisky delivery.

'Thank you, Gerald,' Luna said, accepting the bottle from the older man so he could set a tray of nibbles down on the coffee table. She cracked open the bottle, poured three fingers for Hermione, and passed it over along with a chocolate frog.

Gerald let himself out again.

'Bless you,' Hermione said, sipping the whisky slowly.

'How did it happen, you asked?' Luna opened a drawer and pulled out a strange brass globe with runes inscribed along its edges. 'Magic. A variety of magics, actually...' Her voice took on an instructive tone as she began to describe the combination of Arithmancy, Divination, and geography used to determine where each client's Portkey should deliver them.

It was the kind of information Hermione would have found utterly fascinating had she not been holding a grudge against this inanimate object for ruining her peace. She made a mental note to ask Luna more about it at a later date. As it was, she downed her whisky in one, swallowing hard, and she threw back another chocolate frog. She tried to keep the desperation out of her voice. 'Luna, I love you—I really do—but I only have five days left before I have to report back to St Mungo's. Can we expedite this Portkey so I'm out of here within the hour?'

Without a word, Luna opened another drawer and pulled out a pale blue Puffskein. She walked around her desk, pressed the fluff ball into Hermione's arms, and drew her into a hug. 'Of course.'

The Puffskein, pleasantly warm, began to purr as it nestled into a spot on Hermione's lap. She was already beginning to feel a little bit better, and the anger and frustration she had felt was slipping away.

Luna laid a hand on the brass globe, which seemed to glow under her fingertips, and she turned to Hermione with a smile. 'You'll be out of England in no time. I can feel it already, Hermione—the magic is quite clear on what you need.'

A/N: What does a puffskein eat? Does it use a litterbox?