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Luna’s Dream
an Harry Potter fanfiction
by Andrew Aelfwine
***
Characters and situations of the Harry Potter books are property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury Books and are merely borrowed for this non-profit fanfiction.
***
Warnings: Luna/Hermione, hints of L/Hr/H. Femmeslash, kissing, Crumple-horned Snorkacks, Yours Truly.


“Come along, sweet,” Luna said, clicking her tongue. The massive beast beside her lowered its head for a moment to rest on her shoulder. She reached up and scratched at the base of its crumpled horn. “Trixie, darling, there’s a nice Snorkack.” And side by side she and her pet strolled through the gates with their winged boars, and onto the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

“A Crumple-horned Snorkack!,” someone cried. “They do exist!” There were screams and gasps, and a particularly sensitive Slytherin prefect fell into a swoon.

“Don’t be afraid,” Luna called out. “She’s harmless!” And to her delight a crowd began to gather.

“May we pet her?” asked a short plump girl wearing the Ravenclaw tie, a relative of the Weasleys by her colouring and a second or third year by her age. Cordelia Jones, that was her name.

“Yes,” Luna said, “but for Merlin’s sake be gentle. She’s very shy and sensitive. One at a time, and don’t move too fast.”

“Her face is so soft,” Cordelia said. Trixie reached out with her long purple tongue and licked her on the cheek. “Oh, how sweet!”

As word spread, students poured out of the castle and in from the rest of the grounds, all eager to see the Crumple-horned Snorkack. It seemed as if the entire school was here. All except the person she most wanted to see.

An hour passed by in a blur of faces. Neville, whispering “Congratulations.” Flitwick, pumping her hand and saying something about the J. Myrddin Perkins Award for the year’s most significant contribution to the study of fantastic beasts. Hagrid picking her up and hugging her. A nod and a muttered “Not ill done” from Snape.

At last the ordeal was over. “Now,” Hagrid said, stroking Trixie’s nose, “would it be a’ right if we put her in the stable with the hippogriffs?”

“She likes hippogriffs and pegasi,” Luna said. “And she eats chocolate and roses. And drinks three gallons of butterbeer a night.”

“I’ll have Rosmerta send us up a keg,” Hagrid said. And after seeing Trixie settled into a box stall between a friendly dappled grey Aethnonian-Percheron and a three-eyed Guernsey cow, he headed off to the Three Broomsticks, promising to bring a firkin of butterbeer when he came home at supper.

Luna took up a comb and began desultorily smoothing her Snorkack’s mane. She was vaguely aware that half the time she was combing her own hair. “Do you still not believe me, Hermione?” she said.

“Of course I do, Luna.”

She looked towards the voice. Nothing. “‘Mione? You borrowed Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Hermione slid the garment off her shoulders and hung it over the stall door. She wore rumpled robes and an old jumper and jeans, exotic and fetching to Luna’s eyes. “Oh, Luna, I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“‘Mione, it’s-- “she was interrupted by a fierce glomp. Hermione had a spot next her nose, which, combined with a pattern of tiny moles, made a map of the outer islands of lost Atlantis.

“However can I make it up to you?”

“I’ve always wanted to find the lost treasure of Rennes-le-Château.”

“And I’ll gladly go looking with you. But isn’t there anything... more immediate?” Hermione grinned. “Like this?”

Interesting, Luna thought. Perhaps this kissing business was underrated, after all. She would need to investigate further. “Do you think,” she said when her mouth was finally free again, “that next time you might could borrow Harry, as well as his cloak?”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide for a moment. Then she smiled, and tilted her head to kiss Luna on the tip of her nose. “I think I could manage that. Just... don’t you ever turn normal on us, Luna Lovegood.”

“I don’t believe I could bear being normal,” Luna said. “Teen Witch puts me to sleep.” Hermione’s fingers flowed up her spine to tangle in her hair, and they kissed again, hard. Bells were ringing in the distance...

Luna sat up in bed, daylight peeking through the curtains. Her roommate’s Muggle alarm clock had vibrated itself off the nightstand and fallen to the floor. If she’d had a Crumple-horned Snorkack, she would’ve fed it the noisy thing, and considered offering her roommate for dessert. “Merlin’s toes,” she muttered, “why then?”

Date: 2005-07-08 06:44 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] antosha-c.livejournal.com
Indeed. No problem.

I'm hoping to be able to post one (or perhaps two if I'm lucky) more Locked Room stories before HBP day....

Date: 2005-07-08 11:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ap-aelfwine.livejournal.com
I'm hoping to be able to post one (or perhaps two if I'm lucky) more Locked Room stories before HBP day....

Grand! I'm looking forward to them.

I'll probably wind up reading them after HBP day, though; I'm off to Irish Arts Week on Sunday, in the middle of nowhere in the Catskills. And off the net, unless somebody's put in a cybercafe since last year.

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