Nargles & Neruda

Mischief Of Your Own

The castle felt as intimidating as ever with the oppressive emptiness of the night, but Hermione's grief overpowered any fear she might have had otherwise. She wasn't sure where she was going, but she didn't care. She wound through the corridors, each place awash with memories. Good or bad, it didn't matter, each one only made her cry harder.

Eventually, she found herself in the clock tower courtyard, and it was there that she sat down and wept. She wept in anger at Ron, grief for her lost loved ones, and worst of all, grief for the life that she thought they'd all be living now. The cloak had fallen off of her shoulders by now, but she didn't care until she heard her name softly spoken from beside her.

"Hermione?" Luna said as she approached. "Are you alright?"

Hermione hastily wiped her tears away before looking at Luna. "Luna. I'm... I'm okay. Really." Luna only looked at her kindly, knowing Hermione was lying but feeling no need to tell her so.

"When I heard your cries, I thought they might be the calls of a crumpled hornsnout. Their voices sound quite similar to human weeping." Luna looked at her seriously, "I never thought it would be you." Hermione didn't say anything in reply. "I'll leave. I'm sure you'd rather be alone."

Luna rose to leave, but Hermione grabbed her hand to stop her. "No, please stay Luna. I could use a friend right now," Hermione said though still stifled sobs. "Why are you out this late?" She asked.

"Sleepwalking. I woke up somewhere near the kitchens, I was just making my way back now." Luna sat next to Hermione and placed a hand consolingly on her knee. Luna's hand was warm against Hermione's wind chilled body. No questions were asked. Luna only sat and waited patiently until Hermione was ready to talk.

"I had a fight with Ron just now, that's why I'm out here," Hermione admitted once she had gotten a hold of herself. "He wants me to leave Hogwarts so I can go party with him in London. It's the same fight we've had over and over." Hermione sighed. "We've always been so close, but now... it feels like we're living two totally separate lives and not just because we're so far away."

Luna thought for a second and said, "you are living separate lives, and probably always will be. Ron enjoys glory, I'm sure you've noticed. Now that he's getting it, I'd imagine he couldn't help but revel in it."

Hermione looked at Luna. "Maybe that's what I should be doing. Maybe I should just revel in my own glory, instead of trying to recreate the past here as if the war never happened."

"I don't think that's what you're doing. This is what you love. The war took a lot of things from us all, but it can't take away who you are," Luna said earnestly.

Hermione furrowed her brow and almost began to cry again at Luna's words. "You're right of course. And I guess that's what really bothers me. It's not just that we're living different lives, but that we want to be living different lives. I want to be here. This is where I'm happy. But Ron refuses to believe happiness can come from anything other than firewhisky, photographers and witches falling over themselves to talk to him." Hermione sighed.

Luna shrugged. "He's not the only one who feels that way. You're more mature than most and certainly more than him" said Luna. She said so without judgment. It was only an observation, but one that no one could deny.

Hermione laughed without much humor, "Ron has always been less mature than most. I would have thought that by now he would grow up a little. We fought a war after all," Hermione trailed off. "And the worst part is, he acts like I'm the immature one. As if I'm running away from adulthood." Hermione turned to look at Luna. Hermione hadn't really looked at her since she had walked in. Luna's hair hung wild and loose, shimmering like icy waterfalls down her chest. Her pale skin had a pearly glow under the bright silver rays of her namesake. Her effortless beauty made Hermione blush uncomfortably.