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Hermione Granger considered herself a patient person. She had brewed potions that had to be let to rest for weeks, waited months for books to arrive at the libraries, and, one could argue, she had waited years to find love. It was just that Luna had outdone herself this time.
Having spent their last year at Hogwarts as roommates, Hermione thought her tolerance for Luna related craziness had vastly improved. No mistletoe during winter holidays? Done. Odd cleaning rituals involving mandrake and carrots to ‘keep evil auras away’? Sure, at least they left a pleasant smell around the flat and it had gotten rid of the weird spots on the corners of the shower. But glitter? Oh dear God, glitter was the worst.
Like many things seemed to do, it started because of Ron Weasley. In an odd occurrence he and Harry had been able to meet Hermione and Luna at The Three Broomsticks, and the conversation had quickly spiralled into Christmas traditions, much to Hermione’s displeasure. Luna was not ready to talk about those things, they all reminded her of her dad, and how he had barely recognized his daughter on her last visit at St Mungo’s.
“You’ll come for dinner, won’t you?” asked Ron. If Hermione had been able to reach him, she would have kicked him on the shin. Hermione looked between him and Luna. Yes, she had planned to, but she hadn’t discussed it with Luna yet.
“Don’t worry about me,” said Luna with a gentle smile, “I’ll be fine alone.”
“What’re you talking about?You’re invited too.”
Hermione had been thrilled to bits with Ron after that. It was perfect! It would give Luna something to look forward to, she had been feeling awfully alone during the holidays, now that they had both graduated Hogwarts.
After the initial enthusiasm, however, Luna had begun to feel frantic about what she would wear. ‘You have to wear something special, it’s bad luck not to. Like you don’t care about what Spring and the New Life is about to bring,’ she had said. And who was Hermione to argue (she had tried before, but Luna was right, she didn’t have any authority to be lecturing her about her beliefs)?
Luna had said it needed to be something new and blue, and when Hermione had jokingly asked if she needed something old and something borrowed too, Luna had grabbed her chin and looked to the sky.
“It’s not really necessary, but I guess it would be better if I did,” she said.
It would have been much more fun to delay shopping and research about the origins of this shared magical and muggle tradition, what was the symbolism? Was there a relationship between weddings and winter? What had happened to the sixpence? It was fascinating! But, well, Luna was right. Hogwarts only opened its library for ex-alumni during school terms.
Luna wanted to make her own robes, so they went to a fabric store first and chose an emerald one, the colours shifted as it moved, changing into a dark blue when moved rapidly. It matched Luna’s necklace (a family heirloom, apparently. Hermione hadn’t found any magic in it, but, as Luna had pointed out, it was entirely possible only family members could feel its power. Hermione was itching to find more about those kinds of spells). Hermione bought a pair of earrings that matched the green jade in Luna’s necklace, and very sneakily offered to lend them to her. Luna’s eyes shone with her smile when she saw the earrings.
“Well, I guess that’s it.”
Luna looked at the bags. “I’m worried about the blue.”
And so, Hermione made the mistake she would come to regret deeply:
“What about that blue glitter we saw at the fabric store? You could add some details with it.”
Hermione had thought magical glitter would be less of an annoyance than muggle glitter, but there was no difference between them, really. It got stuck everywhere, it began appearing on her hair, on her bed sheets, on her tea, on her cat. Hermione had been worried she would have to take poor Crookshanks to the vet’s because of how much glitter he had eaten.
She tried to endure it for Luna, because it made her so happy, and she was so enthusiastic about her robe. Maybe if Viktor hadn’t been so stubborn in his last letter, Hermione wouldn’t have exploded. How could he keep insisting Luna was not trustworthy when Hermione had already explained the symbol on Xenophilius' neck was much older than Grindelwald?
Or, maybe, if Margaret from The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had actually listened to what Hermione had to say, instead of just nod along because she was friends with Harry Potter and war hero herself. How could it not be obvious that domestic elves being punished, and even forced to punish themselves, was an evil thing to allow?
And then… she had finally gotten an answer from Armenius Perkins, and he had only confirmed what Hermione had come to conclude herself. There was no reversing Obliviate, no spell that could fix what Hermione had done to her parents.
Hermione rubbed her eyes, and a speck of glitter went in.
She felt like crying, and not only because the glitter stung her eyes. She felt like kicking and hexing everything around her. Hermione slid down the wall, until she was sitting on the floor, and covered her head with her arms. The noise of London’s streets came muffled, floorboards becoming blurry. She closed her eyes, relinquishing the feeling of nothingness, when she felt cold fingertips touching her hands.
Hermione lowered her arms and opened her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” asked Luna.
“The glitter you keep bringing home is driving me nuts.”
Luna brought her hands closer to her body, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Of…” Of course not, you never mean to mess up, but always manage to. Hermione bit her tongue. It wasn’t fair. Hermione couldn’t tell Luna that. Hermione closed her eyes and buried her face on her knees. Luna didn’t… she didn’t deserve Hermione’s anger. She wouldn’t hurt her with mean words.
Luna sat besides Hermione, not quite touching her, but close enough Hermione could feel the warmth of her body.
“I can get rid of the glitter.”
“No, no. You need something blue for Christmas, and that’s only a few days away.”
“I’m sure I could find something else.”
Hermione tried to smile and grabbed Luna’s hand. “It’s okay, I’m sorry I snapped.”
“You wouldn’t have snapped if there wasn’t something wrong.”
Luna had a mind full of crazy ideas, but she had an uncanny ability to say the things that hanged in the air, to understand human nature so deeply… it always amazed Hermione.
“It’s just that things keep piling up. The ministry, my parents…”
“You got Armenius’ answer?”
Hermione nodded, “Nothing to be done.”
Luna placed her head on Hermione’s shoulder, leaning against her. “You’ll figure it out.”
“How to get their memories back?”
“Yes. Or you’ll find a way to let them go.”
Hermione closed her eyes and let herself relax. Leaning against Luna, smelling her shampoo, it was easy to believe things would work out.