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1. The Lion
Hermione was busy calculating the amount of time left until she could escape her self-imposed-but-mandatory Evening Relaxation Period -- eighteen minutes and thirty six seconds, if she cheated and used her own faster watch instead of the hourglass on the mantle -- when Luna Lovegood stalked through the door of the Gryffindor Upperclass Girls' Lounge, wearing the head of a lion.
Hermione and Ginny had been on the sofa, pretending to read magazines while actually trying not to watch Parvati and Katie snog each other in the overstuffed chair across the room. All four girls now looked up at Luna, who walked with her shoulders hunched, her robes falling over her legs and backside as she lumbered along in jerky, not-exactly human way. The long strands of fabric that made up her mane trailed from her enormous headpiece, swaying with each purposeful motion.
Luna didn't acknowledge or even look at the others girls, but walked straight to the bust of Godric Gryffindor that stood by the fireplace. Then she plopped down on her belly, pulled her legs and arms underneath her, raised her head to look at the stone face, and after that stayed silent and perfectly still.
The Gryffindor girls watched Luna in silence for about a minute, until it became clear she wasn't planning to move or say anything anytime soon. Then Parvati burst into a fit of giggles, which she quickly muffled against her girlfriend's shoulder, until Katie started laughing too. Hermione and Ginny glanced at each other, then at Luna, then back at each other. Neither of them laughed.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Parvati gasped, in what she might have (mistakenly) thought was a whisper. "But what is she doing?"
Ginny's eyes narrowed and her chin jutted up. "She's allowed to come in here and do whatever she wants. She's my friend." Hermione knew that tone well. It was bred from a younger sibling's lifelong habit of standing up to any provocation, sometimes before it was even offered, and Ginny wasn't the only Weasley who used it.
"I didn't mean she shouldn't be here," Parvati said quickly, and this was probably true. Luna wasn't a Gryffindor, but even if she hadn't had Ginny's open invitation, people were more or less used to Luna's being wherever Luna decided to be at any given moment. That was just Luna. "I only meant -- " Parvati looked to Katie for help.
"She's wearing a costume." Katie actually knew how to whisper.
"She's supporting our Quidditch team," Ginny snapped back, loudly. "The team you play on."
Katie gave up on keeping her voice down. "We don't even have a match this week."
"It's weird," Parvati pronounced firmly. And suddenly Hermione, who hadn't spoken, realized they were all looking at her.
In truth, Hermione was thankful for anything that interrupted Parvati and Katie's snogfest. She wasn't about to say that, though. It would have been mean and unfair and insensitive and a lot of other things that Hermione knew she didn't want to be. It wasn't their fault that she had chosen the Girls' Lounge for her (self-imposed but mandatory) Evening Relaxation Period precisely because she didn't want to have to sit around awkwardly watching other people kiss. Hermione wanted to be sensitive and supportive and respectful of her other peoples' lifestyles, just like she'd learned from her parents long before she'd come to Hogwarts. But that didn't give them free rein to be mean about Luna, who after all was only. . .well, what was she doing?
"We could always ask her," Hermione said.
"It's her business." Ginny spoke with the resolve of the youngest girl from a houseful of boys, who knew that every time you could do something and just be let alone was a gift. Hermione understood that, but in the end, she decided that if you really didn't understand why someone was doing what she was doing, there wasn't any harm in asking.
"I'm going to ask." Hermione put down her magazine. She stood, stretched her arms out behind her, and walked over to Luna. None of the others followed.
A few feet away from the other girl, Hermione stopped, crouched down on the balls of her feet, and said, "Luna."
Luna turned her head slowly, fixed her eyes on Hermione, and looked at her for a long moment in silence. Across the room, Parvati giggled. Otherwise, it was quiet until Luna wrinkled her nose and made a distinctly non-human sound. It was something less than a roar, but more than a meow, and whatever it was, seemed to ask a question. Hermione jumped just a little, and since she was already crouching, went sprawling on her back on the stone floor.
"She is all right!" Luna called to the other girls, without moving from her all-fours position, then shuffled toward Hermione and whispered, "You are all right?"
Hermione managed a smile and started pushing herself up. Luna quickly offered her a hand, and now they were sitting, facing each other in a seated position. "I'm all right," Hermione confirmed. Since Luna's eerie composure had been broken, she quickly added, "We were just wondering --what you're doing over here?"
Luna sat back on her haunches, looked up at the sculpted wizard-head, and said, "I am being the lion."
It was tempting, at this moment, to go back to her seat next to Ginny, announce 'she is being the lion,' and return to the magazine. It was about Quidditch, and she'd borrowed it from Harry, because he had the mistaken impression that wanted to learn more about sport. It had some nice pictures of her sort-of-ex, Viktor Krum, which were developing sentimental value in proportion to the amount of snogging that everybody at Hogwarts who wasn't Hermione seemed to be doing these days. It would be an easy way to kill the next fourteen minutes.
But Hermione decided to persist. "Tell me about 'being the lion.' Is it a spell?" From everything she knew about Luna, there was no reason to think that she would be trying to transfigure herself into a predator right here in the Girls' Lounge. But she also knew, from their days together in Dumbledore's Army, that Luna was one of the more accomplished witches at the school. Odder things had happened to nice students -- she couldn't help a glance at Ginny -- and it would be worse if she didn't ask a question that she should have.
To Hermione's relief, Luna shook her head and spoke matter-of-factly. "It is a way of being. The lion is brave, and the lion is strong. I would like to learn how to be the lion."
"Oh. That's --" Hermione didn't understand. She didn't think she was going to be able to begin to understand. She liked magic because it was a kind of science, but she understood that there were people who saw it as something else, something you had to feel and believe in. Luna's answer gave her the uneasy feeling of having walked in on someone else's prayers, and that was not what she had intended. This was something personal and private, and Ginny was right. Hermione was about to stand up, say she was sorry, and walk away. But Luna caught her eye and what came out of her mouth was something entirely different. "Do you think I could be the lion with you?"
A smile spread across Luna's face, and she let out a little laugh. But before Hermione could be embarrassed, Luna put a hand on her shoulder, and leaned close to her ear. "You already are."
Hermione felt warmth rise to her cheeks. "I think you have me mixed up with Harry. He's the hero in my year."
Luna put a hand on her shoulder. "You are already the lion," she repeated. "But you can stay if you want. I like you."
"I -- ahh --" Hermione had forgotten how quickly the other girl could change from completely inscrutable to utterly direct. "I like you, too, Luna." Without looking back at the other girls, Hermione got into the lion position, and crouched next to Luna, in silence, until the hourglass on the mantle said that her Evening Relaxation Period was over.
And maybe a little longer.
2. The Fairy Princess
Hermione had no idea what had possessed her to wear this dress to Professor Slughorn's party. It was a long thing, silky, theoretically elegant, and when she'd begged her mother to send it from London, Hermione had still assumed she would be going with Ron. Then came the Lavender Brown disaster, which left her fuming about why she'd ever wanted to waste an elegant dress on Ron Weasley, who would probably not have known the difference in the first place.
But even after she'd agreed to be Cormac's date, Hermione had magicked the neckline down the tiniest bit, and practiced in front of mirror, walking in the dress and impractically-heeled shoes. She'd also spent an absurd amount of time on her hair, and found herself thinking, There are girls who do this every day. How do they do this every day?.
A twinge of guilt hit her then, as she remembered her mother's reaction to her fourth-year Holly Ball pictures. "It just goes to show, sweetie. You can look so nice when you make an effort." Mother had kissed the top of her typically bushy hair and never mentioned the subject again, but Hermione had reacted in stunned silence and (later that evening) a ridiculous bout of crying in her room. She had gotten over it, more or less. Her hair did what it did, most of the time, and if she was happy with dungarees and trainers under her robes, and a cozy hooded sweatshirt when she could get away with it, she figured it wasn't anybody's business.
But still. Making an effort was supposed to be what Hermione Granger was good at. The nagging suspicion that in this one area she was a bit of a slacker could sneak up on her as a source of secret shame, and make her do some very dumb things.
Like wearing this dress. She had made an effort, she looked nice for the party, and the only thing it was getting her was stupid Cormac McLaggen staring at her breasts. She wondered if it was too late to magic the neckline higher -- like, maybe, up to her chin -- or if that would be too obvious. Instead, she put her arms around her cold bare shoulders and wondered where Harry had got to.
"Professor Slughorn doesn't believe in snorkacks," said a voice behind her. Hermione smiled as she turned to see Luna. "Most wizards don't," the girl continued, "because that's what they say in the Daily Prophet. But because Professor Slughorn is a new person, I needed to ask him. Hello, Hermione. Your dress is very pretty."
"Thank you, Luna," Hermione answered and, since it was completely and in every way expected that Luna would come to a party and immediately seek out her host's opinion on nonexistent magical creatures, there was no need to comment on the rest. "Your dress is --" Stopping long enough to get a good look at the ensemble, she said, sincerely " - amazing. You look like a fairy princess."
Luna gave her typical, solemn nod, and said, "I got this dress from a fairy princess. She was at Hogwarts with my Aunt Genevieve. She gave it to me for my birthday." Smoothing down the many-layered skirt that looked more likely to be made from leaves and feathers and flower petals than cloth, Luna confessed, "I added some of the trimming myself." She touched a finger to the the back of Hermione's silk dress, and removed it quickly, as though the surface were hot. "Soft," she observed.
"If you're -- ahhh -- interested in learning more about Muggle fashions?" Hermione said, not sure how to respond to the touch, "I have some magazines in my study carrel that Mother sent me." Luna looked eager, and Hermione saw an opportunity to unload some unwanted "gifts" and remove the temptation ever to "make an effort" again. She was about to say more, when she saw Cormac approaching and grabbed Luna's shoulder to pull her around a corner.
"Are there snorkacks?" Luna asked, craning her neck hopefully.
"Just my date." Hermione sighed. "It's fairly ridiculous, isn't it? Going to all this effort for boys we then have to hide from. It's too bad -- I mean -- I'm glad --" She remembered just in time that her contingency-plan date had ended up escorting Luna. "I'm glad you could come with Harry."
"He's my friend," Luna said. "He takes me seriously."
"He's good at that," Hermione agreed, and suddenly she was hit with a rush of gratitude for the other girl's presence and company. One person in the room who wasn't solely obsessed with who else was looking at them. She put an arm around Luna's shoulder and squeezed her. "I take you seriously, too." Except for the part about snorkacks! was her mental reservation, and it seemed harmless enough.
"You were the lion with me." Luna smiled. "I haven't forgotten."
"That was a nice day." It already seemed so long ago. "If I was really the lion, would I be worrying about my dress and hiding from a stupid boy?"
"I think you're very brave."
"You're the brave one, Luna." Hermione put her arm around the smaller girl. "You don't care what anybody thinks."
"I like you," Luna said.
"I like you, too," Hermione answered. Luna turned her mouth up and brushed the side of Hermione's chin with her lips. It was unexpected, but Luna was always unexpected, and physical affection that was so undemanding made a nice contrast with Cormac.
Hermione laughed as she rubbed the spot on her chin, where Luna's lips had touched. "Oh, hey, there's Harry. I have to ask him about Slughorn, all right? Be back."
She crossed the room alone to talk to Harry, whose eyes stayed on Luna. "Did my date just snog you?"
"Very funny," said Hermione. "She's just being affectionate. Now help me hide from Cormac and tell me what you found out about the Half-Blood Prince."
She really had intended to get back to Luna, but the way the rest of that rotten evening transpired, Hermione never got a chance.
3. The Amazon
Hermione wouldn't have noticed Luna was late to breakfast, except that half a dozen people asked her where Luna was.
This time it was Ron. "Where's Lovegood, then? She was talking like she had some big surprise planned."
"She didn't say anything to me." Hermione frowned. "Why does everyone assume I know where Luna is?"
Ginny answered with a mouthful of breakfast roll. "Maybe because she follows you everywhere lately?"
"She does not --" Hermione began, trying to think if it was true. She had been seeing a lot of Luna, but it didn't seem that unusual, or, "I haven't noticed --"
"Sure, you haven't noticed. Everywhere you see her, you're there anyway."
While Hermione tried to see if she could parse the logic of that statement, Ron began teasing his sister. "What's with you anyway? Monthly visitor?"
"Piss off."
"Have a fight with Dean?"
"There is no Dean."
"Oooh. Trouble in paradise? Wha'd you do with the bod --?" He stopped, mid-sentence. His jaw dropped open and his head turned toward the door. Hermione's first reaction was not to follow his eyes but to look at Harry -- a more trustworthy source, not likely to be playing 'made-you-look' to throw the girls off their conversational game. When she saw Harry gawking, too, though, she turned and saw Luna.
Oh God. Just as quickly, she turned away, then buried her face in her hands. Good God. Maybe I can pretend I have nothing to do with this. Maybe I have nothing to do with this. . . But there was a sneaking suspicion. All the clues were there. Luna asking about her magazines, dropping hints about today to everyone but Hermione.
A disgusted voice from another table -- and Hermione was just going to believe it was a Slytherin -- called, "You knew this would happen when they put in plain-dress Fridays." Hermione was very happy to be in her hoodie and trainers, thank you, but at the moment, she could understand the advantage of strict adherence to a dress code. Some jeers and catcalls followed, and a moment later, Luna plonked down into the seat beside her. "Hello," she said, in her usual serene voice.
Hermione slowly raised her head, wondering if there was a way she could play this off as just any other interaction. "Hi, Luna," she said weakly.
"Do you like my costume? I found it in one of your fashion magazines."
Ron coughed into his hand. Hermione met Harry's eyes. He was the only one at the table right now who had grown up around Muggles, so just maybe -- . "You look nice," she said to Luna, trying with her eyes to tell Harry to stay out of this one.
Harry smiled to let Hermione know he'd gotten the signal, then turned to Luna anyway. "What was the name of the magazine, Lu?" he asked.
"Wonder Woman," Luna answered matter-of-factly. "I am Diana of the Amazons, and these --" She raised a foot and placed it on the chair beside her, to display thigh-high leather footwear " -- are my boots."
Ginny gasped. "Those are amazing." Boys from the surrounding tables laughed or whooped or cheered.
Parvati blurted, "If you're from the Amazon, WHY IS THERE AN AMERICAN FLAG ON YOUR KNICKERS?"
Luna responded with a thoughtful look. "What's an American flag?" and at that moment Hermione knew that enough was enough.
"Stop it!" She slammed her hands on the table and jumped to her feet. "Just -- just -- stop it!" She had meant everyone, all the people contributing to this ridiculous spectacle. She knew there was no reason to yell at Luna, who was just being her usual impenetrable self. But somehow she was staring straight down at the younger girl, while Luna looked up at her. "Stop this, Luna Lovegood! Stop this stupid game where you act like you got off the last slow boat from Mars, so you can get away with anything. Wonder Woman isn't a fashion magazine, okay? It's a comic book -- that's right, Harry, I read dumb stupid comic books and you can laugh at me some other time, but Luna! Use some common sense. Look around you. Pay attention to what other people do and what they expect. Just -- just -- make an effort!"
It was only when Hermione stopped to take a breath that she realized how quiet the room had gotten, that everyone -- not just the Gryffindor table -- was staring at them. There was a smattering of applause from the Slytherin boys, and Hermione made a sarcastic curtsey toward them before turning back toward. . .
Oh God. Luna. Hermione wasn't sure what she had expected to see, but it wasn't Luna with her hands folded in front of her on the table. "I'm sorry, Hermione," she said in a tiny voice. "I made a mistake. I'll think about what you said, Hermione. Please don't go away now. Please sit down and finish breakfast."
"I - I will," Hermione stammered, slowly resuming her seat "I'm sorry, I -- . "I'm sorry I yelled."
Luna didn't react at all. It was Ginny who banged her glass on the table. "That's it?" she demanded. "You're sorry you yelled?!"
"Don't make it worse," Ron mumbled. Ginny snorted and jumped to her feet, stalking off. Hermione badly wished to follow her. Whenever one imagined these kinds of scenes, they ended with running out of the room. Dealing with the consequences later, of course, but there was at least the satisfaction of temporary escape. But that wasn't what Luna had asked for, and sitting there in painful awkwardness seemed like -- she knew it actually was -- the very least she could do.
After a few minutes of eating in silence, Harry said, "I always liked Spider-Man, myself."
"You would," Hermione grunted.
"Wha's that mean?" Ron asked, and soon he and Harry were having a spirited conversation about the merits of mechanical versus organic web-shooters that managed handily to circumvent the point of Hermione's sarcasm.
Soon after, Professor McGonagall walked by and Hermione squared her shoulders in resignation. "Points from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw?" she asked.
"Neither," the Professor answered. "This is clearly a personal matter, and I trust you young ladies to work this out between yourselves. However, it should be noted that the other Heads of House and I will be having a long overdue conversation regarding a clarification of the casual dress policy. At this point, however, Miss Lovegood is not in violation of any rules, and, I must say -- speaking personally -- is wearing quite an impressive Wonder Woman costume. Wouldn't you say, Miss Granger?"
"It -- " Hermione swallowed. "It looks nice." Her eyes only now traveling over the intricate golden "W" on Luna's chest she said, "It's beautiful." And she wondered how she'd never fully appreciated the serene dignity in silence that made Luna Lovegood the most beautiful girl that she knew.
4. The Girl Next Door
It wasn't as though Hermione owned a great number of comic books. She had just been stuck on a rainy family holiday with nothing to read (the horror), and happened to leaf through some issues of Teen Titans that belonged to one of her cousins. At first glance, the stories had seemed needlessly elaborate and painfully stupid, and Hermione had said so, loudly. But there were threads running through the nonsense that were hard to understand yet just intriguing enough to merit further exploration. They all seemed to connect to other things and when she looked at those, there turned out to be even more information. Her cousin even owned a 500-page handbook, which was the only Muggle document she'd ever read that remotely resembled one of her Hogwarts textbooks, and by the end of the week she had acquired a working knowledge of a 70 year old fictional universe.
It just wasn't the kind of thing that came in handy at Hogwarts, which was why she'd never mentioned it before. That and the anticipated smirk on Harry Potter's face (all right, maybe she deserved it, she had been known to remark that his leisure reading wasn't sufficiently serious; but, then, he liked that whiny Spider-Man, and in comparison Wonder Woman -- which was all about mythology! -- was something completely different).
Now that her secret reading habits had been revealed, it turned out she didn't care about that at all. The kids from wizarding families had no context for exactly how embarrassing this was, and Ron even seemed to think it was cool. In fact, as she sat with the boys in the Gryffindor common room on the evening of the disastrous breakfast, she realized this was the first time she'd had a knowledge base that actually interested Ron, without it being something that could potentially save their lives. He would point to a page and ask, "Who's this bloke again?" and she'd either tell him or invent something (who really knew what was up with Hawkman anyway?) She had, quite accidentally, garnered Ron's undivided attention, and yet she could hardly keep her mind on the moment.
She didn't even know how many minutes were left in her Evening Relaxation Period; she just knew that she had relocated it from the Girls' Lounge to the common room because she couldn't stand the way Ginny was glaring at her, and she couldn't even bear to think about meeting Luna. They'd work it out, of course. Hermione just needed to get her thoughts together, to understand how she had lost control so completely -- Luna could be exasperating, but Hermione liked her, she knew that she did -- and make sure she didn't do it again. It would just take time and planning to make sure the apology was handled correctly.
It shouldn't have been surprising when Luna came to her.
It was Harry who nudged her and nodded across the room as the blonde girl entered. "Well," Hermione said, seeing her trainers and pink hooded sweatshirt. "At least she's dressed normal." Oops. She had intended to say something nice, and that really hadn't been it at all. At some point, she would have to think about why feeling guilty and uncomfortable made it so much easier to be unkind, but right now she had more pressing things to worry about. She raised a hand and waved to Luna -- feeling a sense of timidity but making sure not to show it. The other girl gave a sharp nod, shouldered an unusually overstuffed knapsack -- if Luna ever remembered to carry any books at all, she always looked surprised as to how they had gotten in her hands -- and strode purposefully across the room.
"Right," Harry said cautiously. "Normal." He and Ron shared a glance, and Ron coughed into his hand.
Hermione looked at one of the boys, then the other. "What?"
Luna stopped in front of them, raised a hand and pushed back her hair, which -- Hermione had just noticed -- was looking more unkempt than usual. "Hello, Harry. Hello, Ron." She spoke in a deeper voice than usual, and seemed to look right past Hermione. "I hope you boys will not be getting into any mischief this evening. I would be keeping you out of mischief, but I intend to memorize 900 pages of Potions homework this evening."
Hermione gasped, unable to summon any words.
Ron barked out a laugh. "That's brilliant, Lovegood! Can you do my sister?" Harry thwacked him on the shoulder. "What?"
"I have to go," Luna said, still using her 'Hermione' voice, "My Evening Relaxation Period has almost expired. If you require conversation, I will be studying in the library. Alone."
She met Hermione's eyes, only for an instant, then turned on her heel and walked from the room in the same determined gait. It was different, she was walking upright, but Hermione was still reminded of the afternoon of the lion.
When the door shut behind Luna, Hermione stood up. "All right." She spoke to the room in general. "All right. I'll go have a talk with her. But I do not walk like that!" As a result of this, she then had to walk out of the room while trying not to walk like that. One of these days, she would just learn to keep her mouth shut.
She was halfway down the hall, seeing no sign of Luna, when she heard someone come out the door behind her. Turning to see Harry, she crossed her arms and waited for him to catch up. "Come to offer me advice, Boy Wonder?"
"Just support, if you want it. No advice. Everyone knows I'm rubbish at the whole relationship business."
"Well, Luna and I aren't exactly -- " She stopped. "No, I'm sure she's not -- she did say she liked -- but no, Harry, she likes that I take her seriously. Well -- I usually do. She likes you for the same reason, she told me herself."
"She did go on a date with me," Harry pointed out. "During which, by the way, you're the one she tried to kiss. And she also doesn't doesn't borrow my magazines and dress up like the girls she thinks I like."
"Oh, God, just -- " She looked at him. "You noticed? I didn't notice this and you did?"
.
"I'm more perceptive than I'm generally given credit for," Harry said piously. "Also, Ginny told me."
"Ginny?" She stopped. That was a conversation for another time. "I really do need to work things out with Luna."
Harry coughed. "Any idea, ahh -- how you want to work them out?"
"I hadn't given it that much thought before," she said, although that wasn't really true. She'd been thinking about Luna all day, thinking back to the lion, and before. She just hadn't put all the pieces together. "Between you and me," she said, "I have been reading a lot of Wonder Woman comics and it maybe wasn't entirely for Steve Trevor." She started to push the hair back from her eyes, remembered Luna imitating the gesture, and lowered her hand to her side. "Any advice, Mr. Chosen One?"
"Ahh. . .Be bold and mighty forces will come to your aid?" He shrugged. "Heard it in a film."
"Yes, well. Luna would call that being the lion." And Hermione Granger squared her shoulders and went to the library.
5. The Witch
When Hermione found Luna in the library, she was back in standard-issue robes, straddling a straight-backed chair and balancing a wand on her palm.
Wordlessly, Hermione took a seat across from her.
"You came," Luna said at last. She kept her eye on the wand, but moved her hand back to the chair. The wand levitated slowly on its own and slipped into her pocket.
"It seemed you wanted my attention," Hermione said. She started to push the hair back from her eyes, but stopped herself. "I'm here now. So?"
"So." Luna's feet shuffled and curled under the chair. "I wanted to see what it was like, being you."
"And?" To her surprise, Hermione found herself smiling.
"All those books are heavy." And you walk too fast. Also -- " Luna curled her arms to her chest. "I don't try to get attention." Luna's eyes still wouldn't meet hers. "My dad says there's no point in trying to make people change their minds about you. You just tell the truth and be yourself and that's what matters."
"Your dad sounds very --" Different from my parents, Hermione thought. "Very wise."
Luna turned sharp eyes on her now, and Hermione realized that her pauses and carefully chosen words might not be as clever as she thought. Better to come out with it. "I'm sorry about this morning. I was cruel."
Luna gave an elaborate shrug. "It doesn't matter. People say all sorts of things. You can't listen to people."
"I'm not people! I'm your friend!" Another shrug. "Luna, I -- I want you to be angry! I deserve for you to be angry at me."
"I don't try to get people's attention." Luna's eyes rested on Hermione's shoes, and Hermione wondered why she was so focused on that denial. Then her gaze flickered upward. "I knew it wasn't a fashion magazine."
"Wonder Woman?" Hermione asked, blankly.
"I knew it was pretend. I know where America is, too. That's not the right name for it, of course, but -- I know what the flag looks like."
"So why did you do it, then? I don't understand."
"I don't do things to get attention. But . . .This time, I tried. I saw the book and I saw Diana and I thought she might be someone you fancied." Hermione felt herself blush. She had never thought of it entirely in those terms, and of course petite, fair-haired Luna bore little resemblance to the Amazon Wonder Woman. But, well -- she had been beautiful.
"So you tried to look like her? Like being the lion?" Hermione asked.
"No!" Luna smacked the side of the chair with her hand, and the sheen of tears showed on the surface of her eyes. Hermione had never seen her so discomposed, not even during the battle at the Ministry of Magic. "I was the lion because the lion is important. This time I only -- I only wanted you to look at me. So I pretended. It was wrong, and you got angry. I don't mind! I'd rather you get angry and tell the truth than think about and make up a lie." .
"No, listen to me. What you did wasn't wrong. Here." She held out both of her hands, resting them on Luna's knees, hoping the girl's agitated breath would slow. "Here," she repeated, and Luna slowly placed her palms against Hermione's. The warmth of the other girl's skin seemed to flow into hers. "You didn't do anything wrong, and I didn't tell the truth. You were the one who was brave. You were the one who was making an effort and I -- I was the one who was silly and selfish and lost my temper. I was uncomfortable, and anxious, and I was afraid of being laughed at so I took it out on you. I didn't mean the things I said, and if I had been thinking and in control of myself, I wouldn't have said them." She swallowed. "It was unforgivable."
"Yes," Luna said, and Hermione felt tears sting against her eyes. "I mean, no. You were wrong. You're right about being wrong. But you're wrong about it being unforgivable."
"Yes!" Hermione said. "I mean -- no -- I mean. What?" The girls stared at each other, and it seemed they might stay like that forever, tangled up in an impossible paradox of words.
But Luna, being Luna, was always unexpected. She put a hand on Hermione shoulder, darted forward and planted a kiss on her lips. Hermione was surprised but, being Hermione, was a curious, rational explorer, and wanted to make sure she got everything she could out of the experience.
They'd have time to talk about it later. They'd have time to say what they needed to say, sort out what they needed to sort out, and work on what they needed to work on.
But at this moment, all they had to do was kiss, to laugh and touch each other in relief as the day's tensions flowed out of them. Hermione couldn't help trying to think of the perfect word to describe how it all felt. At the moment, the best she could come up with was "effortless".