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"So," said Hermione, folding up a letter. It wasn't the first letter from Ron since Hermione had opened the break-up discussion, but it was the first letter from Ron since they had decided that they really must remain friends after it. "No red-haired children for me."
Luna thought it would be nice to say something that made things seem a little better to Hermione, but unfortunately nothing came to mind. Hermione seemed to have got used to the idea that she and Ron weren't going to work out, but she hadn't stopped wishing it wasn't true. Perhaps it would be nice to let Hermione know something about herself. For several weeks now she'd been hearing all about Hermione's tender feelings that she'd sheltered from everyone in earlier years, which were being shared because of a largely situational and therefore perhaps slightly unfair advantage.
"I'm having doubts about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks," she said. "And other things."
"Oh. I see." Hermione's face at once pinched up attentively, apparently quite ready to begin on other people's problems. "Are you worrying that it might make things less easy with your father?"
This, Luna remembered, was why Hermione wasn't the kind of person she admitted things to very often. She was always eager, a little like she was trying to climb in with you.
"I don't suppose I'd tell him. But I don't want to feel he needs me to be kind and understanding. It easily could have been like that, since Mother died, you know, and he's quite old. But he always knew more than other people. Everything is a little sadder if he doesn't."
Hermione almost said something sympathetically thoughtful and inquisitive, but then she thought of something. "You know, this is a little like my parents. Being a Muggleborn. Or perhaps it's mostly just me. You go to Hogwarts and then you think of them at home, and you feel like they're just not in the real world. And it's never really the same after that."
"Oh! I never asked you, did you ever get them back from Australia?"
"Of course I did. They said it was very typical behavior from me, you know, sending them there. And my dad said he wished they had another, Muggle, child." She looked brooding.
Luna realised that they seemed to have moved on from Hermione's Ron issues to her parent issues. Perhaps Hermione was changing, now she wasn't always standing next to someone with bigger problems than anyone else. The smaller things seemed to matter again now, not always in a good way. "It's not only Daddy, anyway, that makes me mind. I want to be a Magizoologist and I was going to be a new kind of Magizoologist, revolutionary. And now I'll be an ordinary one."
"I'm sure there are still plenty of undiscovered species and things, Luna. You can still make your mark."
"It's not the same."
"So, really, what you were looking forward to was the opportunity to have a big I TOLD YOU SO moment?" Hermione asked. "Well, that's very understandable. In fact, it makes me feel weirdly better to know you care about stuff like that."
Luna felt something strange, like itchiness, though in its intensity she couldn't quite tell whether it was a pleasant or unpleasant sensation. She stood up and announced "I'm finding you a little annoying today," and left the library. In the corridor outside she realised she was angry, though she wasn't sure why. Something about the idea of Hermione’s images of her, caring or not caring about “stuff like that”, perhaps?
As she turned the corner, she came upon Professor McGonagall and a couple of fifth years staring up at the ceiling.
"A chunk came out of the ceiling and fell on my friend's head!" said one of the students, seeing Luna looking.
Professor McGonagall looked troubled. "Three students have been injured by falling masonry, in three separate parts of the castle. And the castle was declared perfectly safe."
Luna guessed Professor McGonagall was suspecting foul play. She wasn't sure, herself. "Buildings can be very sensitive," she said. "It's probably only just realising what happened to it." Her own house had been shocked, plaintively fragile after some of it had been blown apart. Daddy had said so, and she felt it herself anyway.
"I shall call in an expert," said Professor McGonagall.
It was time for Luna's Defence Against the Dark Arts class. The new DADA professor (the first in years who'd be able to settle down!) had begun by being interesting and had graduated to being something a little more than interesting. He was a little volatile. While her class would have felt glad to welcome him as a symbol of a new, more stable Hogwarts, they were not sure about him. Professor Ormond smiled at them too much, in a flashy way with something hard and grim behind it, both when he was being charming, practically flirting with them, which almost all of them knew was not what teachers were for, and when he took offence and imagined a student was being impertinent. Also, more and more, he was displaying symptoms of the same DADA teacher syndrome that Professor Snape had: he was a little too enthusiastic about his subject.
Today Professor Ormondley was in a bad mood. He kept fidgeting and snapping, and went off into a long lecture about how it was a waste of time teaching his subject if no one realised it had to be regarded in an interdisciplinary light. "Arithmancy, for instance! Like everything else, it is most important in its relation to the Dark Arts and the defence against them. Three points from Ravenclaw." Luna saw that many of her classmates were looking at him in puzzlement, frowning. It was simply hard to believe that there was something wrong with a DADA professor after the curse had been lifted.
After dinner, Luna went to find Hermione. She was in the library, as she'd suspected. Just as well – it was all very well everybody saying interhouse friendship was a good thing, but it was hardly made easier by the common room rules.
"I think the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher may be a little evil. Or a little unstable," she greeted Hermione, who looked up sharply.
"I know!" exclaimed Hermione, sounding relieved, either in response to what Luna had said, or to the fact that Luna had approached her. "All the signs are there, but every time you start wondering, you just think: surely not. Did you hear about the students who were injured?"
*
The next morning everyone observed a strange wizard sitting at the Staff table, and everyone wisely concluded that he was the magical buildings expert. Throughout the day students were frequently forced to arrive late for lessons as sections of the castle were temporarily blocked off for investigation. Professor Ormondley took six points from Ravenclaw because Elizabeth Ithwaite hadn't done her homework. At dinner that evening Professor McGonagall announced that the castle had been declared completely sound by Henry Diddly. She still looked perturbed though, perhaps due to the sudden outbreak of Mumblemumps that had afflicted six students so far. Luna saw that over at the Gryffindor table Hermione was looking perturbed too, but when she looked closer, she saw that many at that table looked the same way, because Daphne Greengrass was balancing on Neville Longbottom's lap and trying to look inconspicuous, having become trapped when Professor McGonagall began to speak.
"I haven't heard anything about them liking each other before today," Hermione said, somewhat balefully.
"Do you think Daphne is evil?" asked Luna.
"Well, she was one of the better Slytherins in her year, wasn't she, that's why she's still here. I suppose Neville may seem a lot more attractive this year -- he's much more confident and of course he was wonderful last year. But still, it's so sudden, there is something fishy about it."
"These things can be very sudden," said Luna.
"I suppose sometimes they can be," said Hermione, though she didn't look sure.
"Maybe no one is evil," said Luna.
"Yes, I think we're probably twitchy. It becomes a reflex, to be afraid and suspicious of some of the people around you. I think I need to work on it."
*
Some days later, the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor seventh/eighth years had their DADA classes back to back. Hermione was waiting outside the classroom when Luna came out. They hurried away from the class without speaking.
"I think Professor Ormondley is a bit evil," said Luna.
"He did duels with you?" asked Hermione
"Yes, he kept encouraging some people to be terribly fierce with their dueling partner. It was rather bad taste, somehow. Of course, some people there had been at the Battle."
"Well, you," said Hermione.
"And he kept crying "Lay into them, beat them. Which I suppose is nothing really, but he did seem very overexcited. And it's just not very appealing or reassuring, is it?"
"I think he has a definite edge of sadism," said Hermione.
"But then so did Professor Snape."
Snape, of course, was complicated, and they thought about him for a moment or two.
"Have you talked to Ginny about it?" asked Luna.
"No," said Hermione. "Somehow I haven't talked to her about anything serious this year. There's Fred, and she didn't really want to come back to Hogwarts, and she's concentrating on Quidditch a lot this year, and trying to keep up with Harry... And I have been splitting up with her brother." She made a turn in the conversation. "You know, I was glad to be able to stop feeling so much responsibility, after we won, and it's not like I'm Harry. This is reminding me of all those years of thinking something was wrong somewhere, and for one reason and another not feeling like we could get the teachers to sort it all out for us. And this is my last year!" She looked petulant but sad too.
"Perhaps Professor Ormondley is just horrible and a bit odd," said Luna. "We can let him carry on being it. We don't employ the teachers, after all."
"I know, but I'm starting to think everybody's just waiting for somebody else to do something – even Professor McGonagall. I know she really wants this year to work out. Of course, what I’m really thinking about is all the accidents and illnesses, not so much what he does in his lessons." It seemed as though ever multiplying numbers of students were suffering some misfortune. A trend, such as potions accidents, would sweep the school in a day only to be replaced by another the next day. People were starting to feel got at, but, Luna noticed, they talked as if the world was being unfriendly and hostile, not as though someone somewhere was responsible. That is, the people who weren't in love. If misfortune was in the air, so was romance. It made for a funny mixture. Luna didn't tell Hermione, but she found the atmosphere in the school a little bracing. She wasn't sure the itchy feeling had gone away, but it felt interesting.
"I know Firenze doesn't agree with all the people who keep telling him still hate us, or want to reward us after Voldemort. Of course, he doesn't say what he thinks the stars do mean."
"Firenze might know all the secrets in the universe, but it won't do anyone else any good," said Hermione, which was her polite way of saying "Divination stinks."
"I don't think it's the stars. Or not the stars any more than it's always the stars, if you look at it that way. But I don't think it's Professor Ormond, either. When people talk about things happening, he doesn't seem like he already knew them."
"Well, he wouldn't, would he?"
"But he must be quite guileless. We're only a few months into his first year. He didn't start out so peculiar. He couldn't disguise his true self for long."
"But if it isn't him, but is someone, then who would it be?" asked Hermione.
Luna was beginning to have an idea, but she didn't think Hermione would like it. She also had visions of Hermione earnestly trying to convert the person to the side of goodness and good sense, which could be dangerous.
*
"I've been thinking," said Hermione. "And I kept coming back to numbers."
"Ah."
"You got there first! How could you not tell me?"
"In fairness, Professor Ormondley did drop a couple of big hints in the early days. He seems to know part of what she's up to."
"But I don't understand. Using Arithmancy to make sequences of events happen in the real world is purely theoretical, I was always taught. It must involve formulas I've never heard of, that aren't in any of the available books! Professor Vector must know more about Arithmancy than anyone else in the world!"
"So what she's done is like creating the stars, which then pull and push people and events towards one another? Except the stars are sums?"
"A little like that. It's essentially a form of the Imperius curse, now I think about it. Never mind the impossible, intellectual side of it, it's incredibly immoral! I can't think what Professor Vector is up to at all, she always stressed that you should account for every effect every number has in a spell, and be very careful."
"I never cared for her much," said Luna.
"Why?"
Luna had to think. "She's very careful and controlled. I always wondered why."
"Perhaps the war knocked her off balance in some way," said Hermione. She groaned. "I wish I could talk to her. I need to keep reminding myself that she's creating serious consequences. She must be building up to something, mustn’t she? We should go straight to Professor McGonagall. But then I wish we could muddle along for a while. It's ridiculous of me to worry about these things, I know, but who's going to replace her? Even if they manage to get someone at such short notice they won't be nearly as good – even without the fact that she can move into this crazy, impossible realm of the discipline."
"You're sure you couldn't make a spell that would stop what she's doing?" asked Luna, with what she knew was a little too much hope. Though Hermione was brilliant, and perhaps if she let herself go she could find the way to that crazy, impossible realm without being taught...
"I wouldn't know where to begin," said Hermione firmly. "And anyway, it's all very unethical. I think – I think I'll leave it a few days, and try and find a way of letting her know someone knows what she's up to, and see if she backs down. She always did have such good control, I don't see how she can have totally lost it. Though I suppose I must be very vigilant, in case she realizes it's me..."
"Or perhaps we should just let Professor McGonagall worry about it all," said Luna.
"Perhaps we should. When was the last time we talked about something nice and ordinary? It seems all we do is discuss this nonsense. Funny that we should be the only two to really spot what's happening."
"Funny that it's me as well as you, you mean?" asked Luna, not offended, she thought.
"No – funny that it's you and me, I think I meant, if you see what I mean? We run a little smoother together than we used to, I think."
Luna considered. "I think I know you better. I thought you were rather strange at first, you know. But you're easy to get the hang of once you get just a little grasp."
"I think I know you better, too!" said Hermione, and beamed. Luna wondered now how she had ever thought Hermione unpredictable and abrasive. She was easy. Luna felt almost as if she could reach out and touch her good intentions, pulled in different directions as they were right now. "You can tell Professor McGonagall now, if you'd like, I wouldn't dream of stopping you. But I would like to give her a chance of getting back in her box."
Luna thought, for all her good intentions, Hermione must have forgotten that Luna Lovegood going along to tell the Headmistress that the Arithmancy professor was evil and the DADA professor too was a very different thing to Hermione Granger going along, accompanied or unaccompanied by Luna. Anyway. What difference would a few days make?
*
Professor Ormondley had fallen in love with the Muggle Studies teacher, Professor Conville. It was quite obvious. He dropped in "As Professor Conville would say"s throughout the lesson, sometimes with deference, sometimes with derision, and went on about Muggles in a way that had every student squinting at him in puzzled alarm. They were as purely innocent as a new-born babe, as common yet as charming as daisies, and grossly ignorant and entitled. Luna felt sorry for Professor Conville, though she would have felt sorrier if Professor Conville, a cheerful witch, had not had capable steel to her. Then she remembered that Professor Conville was probably in love with Professor Ormondley, and felt a more serious pang of disquiet. She could imagine Professor Conville being not entirely unsuited to going into evil cahoots with Professor Ormondley.
"I've found a book about magical ethics – a very good, true book, I read it a couple of years ago, and I've Geminio’d a page from it. I need to think of somewhere she'll find it. She's bound to know what it's about," said Hermione.
"You had Arithmancy today, didn't you? I remembered a magical technique I read about, a form of wandless magic, where you project a thought into someone's head. I thought if I'd suggested it in time you could have tried it."
Hermione looked patient. "I think if that worked it would have become general knowledge – it would happen by accident."
"But perhaps it does," said Luna, who enjoyed being contrary with Hermione – she only wished she didn't sense that Hermione would only allow her to push her side of things so far before the fact that that they didn't agree became a barrier to them getting along. "Perhaps it happens all the time and people don't realize they had something to do with it."
"Well, you try it, Luna. I'm sure you'd have more conviction than me," said Hermione.
"Or perhaps I shouldn't; when you think about it that's rather like Imperius too," said Luna.
*
Things moved very quickly after that. At dinner Hermione mouthed across the Hall "I did it," by which Luna assumed she had arranged her moral reminder somewhere Professor Vector would see it. Hermione still had an awful amount of faith in books. But perhaps she wasn't the only one. And people did have sudden changes of heart.
The next morning at breakfast half the teachers weren't at the high table and there was a buzz in the Great Hall. Something had clearly happened but no one Luna was sitting near knew what.
Professor McGonagall came in and everyone hushed, expecting her to make a speech. Which she did, but slowly, reluctantly. "There has been a death in the teaching faculty." Luna met Hermione's horrified gaze. Professor Vector had gone too far. Or maybe even Professor Ormondley. Perhaps Professor Ormondley had murdered Professor Conville in a jealous fit, that seemed in character. "Professor Vector has died. I can't keep from you that the circumstances surrounding her death are rather strange and not yet fully understood."
"Murder!" whispered someone in the Hall.
"At this moment in time we're inclining towards the belief Professor Vector died by her own hand. I know many of you will feel personal shock at this news..."
Hermione's horrified gaze met Luna again. She seemed almost about to jump to her feet and declare that she had pushed Professor Vector over the edge by letting her know someone was onto her and encouraging her to see what she had become. Her own instinct not to interrupt Professor McGonagall in the middle of an important announcement or to accuse herself dramatically in the Great Hall seemed to be winning when, like everyone else, she was distracted by the sound of ferocious dispute just out of proper earshot of the Hall. There was a female voice yelling, punctuated by bangs, perhaps as they someone blew things up to express their feelings. Some form of grief? Professor McGonagall gave up attempting to continue the speech and began to cautiously make her way towards the noise.
Luckily she was still some distance away from the entrance when Professor Conville flung the doors open and announced "Now Septima Vector is dead."
A great deal of confusion followed which students were not allowed to attempt to sort out, and some stretches of boredom, as they were confined for some time in the Great Hall. Luna went to sit beside Hermione. Soon after Professor McGonagall took Professor Conville out of the Hall, they heard a "We were going to rule the world!" from the latter.
"I think something must have happened to Professor Ormondley," said Luna.
They were allowed out of the Hall for the last period before Lunch. Luna had Potions with Professor Slughorn, who let them spend much of the lesson speculating and would clearly have loved to pass on what he knew and gossip.
After Lunch, Luna should have had Muggle Studies and Hermione and Ginny should have had DADA. They found a window-seat in a peaceful corridor to sit and talk. Luna felt a warmth come over her, despite the obviously disastrous nature of the day, to know that she had companions. Although she and Hermione were unable to hide that there were concerns and awarenesses they weren't voicing and Ginny became a little perturbed.
There were several Aurors at the high table at dinner, though none of the new recruits who had just left Hogwarts. Everyone kept looking across at them until they seemed to feel self-conscious about eating in the face of the gaze. Hermione twitched whenever they made a sudden movement. She was rather highly-strung, Luna thought. Finally one of them laid his knife and fork across his plate and stood up.
"The situation that faced us is a complex one, but we think we've got to the bottom of it, and Professor McGonagall and I have decided that it's best if the facts of the case are known. Septima Vector, under another identity, was the founder of a secret Arithmancy sect" – everybody looked surprised to hear that Arithmancy could be connected with anything so exciting as secret sects – "that was active during – during Voldemort's first reign of terror. It wasn't affiliated with him, though it was Dark – in fact Vector set herself up as an alternative for "discerning" Dark wizards who were uninterested in Voldemort. We think she was genuinely reformed for many years" – Hermione looked suddenly relieved – "but returned to some of her old ideology during the Second War. She has been manipulating the lives of many of you in this Hall, I regret to inform you, being responsible for an unusually large, daily rising in fact, number of accidents in the school, and also for planting feelings of attraction in individuals for persons they would not otherwise be romantically drawn to. Many of you who have experienced this will be thinking that you are an exception, that your feelings are different – and many of you will later find that this is Professor Vector speaking. There is little that can be done, but I am sure you will find the teaching staff will deal sensitively with your concerns if you feel they can help in any way." Luna was beginning to get restive. This was, after all, only confirming the depressing things she already knew.
"Now, Professor Ormondley, it seems, was not perhaps the most savoury character" – everyone of course noticed the past tense – "and may have been drawn to teach here by the presence of Professor Vector, whose activities and history he was aware of and interested in. Last night, we believe he approached her and attempted to blackmail her. She killed him and, laying his body in her bed set fire to the whole and scrawled Arithmantic symbols on the floor. When a house-elf entered her room and raised the alarm, it was assumed that Professor Vector had killed herself. But Professor Vector was at that point still alive – she had used Polyjuice Potion to disguise herself as Professor Ormondley. This implies a degree of forethought, you will notice. Vector had romantically drawn together Professor Ormondley and Professor Conville, and Professor Conville was able quite quickly to detect that Vector was disguised as Ormondley, and, well, killed her. And I think that's all!" The Auror looked at his colleagues for confirmation. "Except to say that, as Hogwarts is now three teachers down, and Professor Conville was apparently excellently teaching a vital subject, Professor Mcgonagall is considering allowing her to stay on until the trial."
"That's not exactly what I said," Professor Mcgonagall said. "I said I wished we could keep her on if her mental state allowed it, but students and parents would be bound to be very uncomfortable with the idea."
The Auror sat down anyway, obviously relieved to have got it all out. It was easy, looking around the Hall, to see which students were in relationships he'd just declared doomed, and which were quite able to enjoy the sensationalism. It was nice to know what had happened, Luna supposed.
I suppose it's nice to know what happened – it feels like it's been a forever of worrying and waiting since this morning," said Hermione, who'd suggested to Luna that they leave the Hall soon after the announcement. "And in one, awful way, it's a relief to think we can just carry on with the year now, with no evil plots. But I do need to tell Professor McGonagall my part in it."
"Tell her mine, too," said Luna.
*
Professor McGonagall did not, of course, expel Hermione, or seem especially angry when she told her that her desire to take responsibility for the outcome of situations was apt to become arrogance and, indeed, irresponsibility. "And I know she's right," Hermione said. "But I do feel relieved to get it over with." Hermione kept saying this, until Luna began to wonder what it was Hermione was so relieved was over, and whether it was over.
It turned out that Professor Conville's murder of Professor Vector could be spun not only as a crime of passion but the act of a Muggle Studies professor against the Dark inventor of secret Arithmancy sects, and was in fact teaching at Hogwarts until the trial. Now somewhat recovered from her disturbed state of mind, her passion for the unsavoury Ormondley probably partly disowned though Luna thought she was still sad, she obviously found the situation awkward. Students were unnaturally quiet and awed in her classes and she was careful not to make sudden movements.
"I'm not sure I approve, though I'm sure Professor McGonagall’s thought about it very carefully," said Hermione. "But she does bring an essential element of political awareness to the subject that was missing before." Then she remembered it was dead (murdered) Professor Burbage she was criticising and fell silent.
Luna was quieter these days, and she thought even Hermione was too. Hermione still sought her out quite as often as she had during the earlier parts of the term, though Ginny was now ready to talk to both of them about things that weren't Quidditch or Harry, and Neville wanted to discuss his relationship with Daphne Greengrass. Like many of the student romances left in Vector's wake, it seemed to be disintegrating the more it was anxiously scrutinised and poked at. When she later remembered this period in her life, much of it appeared to Luna to take place in the library. Hermione would be studying across the table and Luna, more often reading about the creatures Magizoologists had discovered and sometimes lost again throughout the ages than working for her NEWTs, would look at her absorbed face from time to time – the lashes low over her eyes, her mouth pursed in thought or chewed meditatively, her hair catching the light from a window and given a golden-red glow it didn't really possess. It would seem as if the world was going round very slowly and Luna would try and decide whether she was having something or whether she was missing it, and decide that she had it.
As exam time approached, things seemed to speed up. Hermione no longer busied herself quietly but asked Luna to test her, asked her, quite uselessly, what she thought the exams would be like, and, once, demanded whether Luna thought all her ability was merely facile rote learning and even if the examiners didn't mind, whether she would find when she left Hogwarts that she had no real skills.
"Don't be silly," said Luna, who didn't know the last time she'd felt so scornful of something someone said. "You already left Hogwarts and helped bring down Voldemort."
"Yes," said Hermione. "You're quite right. Sometimes doing this last year makes me feel like I'm living my life out of order."
Another time, when they both had a free afternoon, Hermione was reading a newspaper and was inspired to draw Luna out on conspiracy theories. Luna was ready to oblige and, now she knew Hermione better, she was able to counter some of her arguments.
"The Ministry is for controlling people who don't want to be controlled. Werewolves and Muggles and people who want flying carpets and their own dragons. Of course it wants to crush individual thought. Even if you think that's what it ought to be doing, it's different from saying it isn't."
Hermione sighed. "I'm not at all opposed to the idea of control. But even now, I find the Ministry hard to really like. There's still something too relishing of its own power in so many aspects. I'd be only too ready to work there if I could feel differently. I would like to feel that I could have an effect – my effect."
"Daddy said that was why he was drawn to journalism; it's one of the few ways he could get his voice heard."
"It's a thought," said Hermione.
"I'm sure Daddy would let you put things in The Quibbler. I don't suppose he would pay you, but you might want practice," said Luna.
Hermione didn't respond. Then she threw the paper down quite violently. "I have feelings for you. I do!" she said, her cheeks pink.
Luna felt dizzy – she'd have thought she didn't believe it if she didn't feel so relieved. "Oh. Me too. I've waited--"
"To be sure it wasn't Professor Vector, yes. Then I thought that if it was, surely it would be you too" – Hermione faltered as she remembered that it was, but regained her confidence – "and then I thought that if it wasn't you too, then surely it wouldn't be. And I did think maybe it would be for the best if it just passed and I did nothing about it. But I so want to do something about it."
They sat and looked at each other. Luna reached across the table and took Hermione’s warm clenched hand. "I want to kiss you," said Hermione. "And I want more." They looked around them at the library.
"I'll get you into Ravenclaw?" said Luna.
"Yes. The dormitory? We can talk?" They both recognized and laughed at their questioning tones.
There were only three people in the common room at this time of day – they'd left more Ravenclaws in the library -- and they weren't facing the door. Luna and Hermione were able to scramble into the dormitory before Hermione's presence could be observed. They looked at each other in the doorway a moment, laughing softly. Luna went to get the sign that said "Occupied" and put it on the door handle.
"There's a sign?" asked Hermione.
"Yes, a couple of the eighth year girls say that they should be living like adults already. You're obviously trying to decide when it's alright to kiss me. Let's go on the count of three."
Kissing was, well, it was lovely, but it made Luna not want to be kissing standing up. She wanted to lie down, have Hermione press her down or be partly on top of Hermione, press her knee between Hermione's thighs.
"Which is your bed?" asked Hermione.
She threw herself down on it when Luna pointed, and when Luna followed, pulled her down. Luna propped herself up on her hands and leaned down to kiss Hermione.
"I like you so much! I really do!" said Hermione happily, preventing Luna from kissing her again.
They removed their clothes gradually, moving about restlessly quite a lot as they did so. Luna realized now that they'd touched very little in the time they'd known each other and the constant caresses and slides of their bodies against each other felt novel and delightful. Hermione was cupping Luna's breasts as Luna leant over her again, looking absorbed in making Luna's nipples stand out as much as possible, when Luna felt the irresistible desire to make her come. Her hand was already between Hermione's thighs; she moved it up until it met wiry curls and for the first time slid her fingers into the wetness that welcomed her. She found Hermione's clit with her thumb and watched Hermione's face except when she couldn't tear her gaze away from Hermione's cunt. She loved how Hermione gasped, jerkily, like she couldn't help it, her chest turning pink, and watched Luna's hand between her legs, and moved her hips and clenched around her fingers so that Luna knew when to move them faster, feeling almost as urgent as Hermione. Hermione cried out, just once, and stretched her legs out, and smiled at Luna, sweet and drowsy.
"Come here," Hermione said. "There will be more."