Hermione cast a tempus and groaned when she saw the time say 11:56. Luna and her had a standing lunch at 12:30. She debated sending a patronus message to her to cancel, but Luna was out of the country for the past 6 weeks, and she really wanted to hear what she did in South America.
Four more minutes she thought. Then I have to get up. She needed at least 15 minutes to get ready, although all she really wanted to do was stay in bed. She was exhausted from classes, her internship, and late nights to get everything done. She was so excited to see Luna when they planned this the week before she left, but now, Hermione struggled to get out of bed.
What seemed like a few minutes later, she heard the Floo down the hall. “Hermione?” Luna called out to her.
“I’ll be ready in a few minutes!” Hermione yelled through the door. Was it actually yelling though? When was the last time she really used her voice?
She casted another tempus. 12:41. Fuck. She was officially late. She rolled out of bed and stumbled towards her wardrobe, weaving around piles of dirty laundry. She hoped she still had a clean robe or two in there. She opened up the doors, and smiled when she saw there was one still hanging up. It fell off her face when she realized it was the orange and burgundy Weasley Wizard Wheezes that George gave her as a gag gift for Christmas last year.
She frantically began digging through a pile of what looked like clean laundry, hoping that she would find at least one robe. If it had a few wrinkles, that was okay. She could cast a smoothing charm on it, but Luna probably wouldn’t even notice. Just when she was getting desperate enough to wear the joke shop uniform, she found a plum robe at the bottom of the pile.
Hermione tossed it on over her university jumper and soup stained jeans while she made her way back to her bedside table, and more importantly, her wand. She cast freshening and smoothing charms on herself and attempted to throw her mane of curls into a fashionable messy bun.
“Is that seriously what you’re wearing?” The framed picture on the table asked.
“Shut up. I don’t have time for you today.” She knocked the frame so the picture was facedown on the table, and rushed towards the door. She swung it open, and almost ran into Luna, who was about to knock. Her arm was raised, and she lowered it when Hermione appeared.
“Oh my, you’re almost completely covered in wrackspurts,” Luna greeted.
“Thanks.” Hermione shut the door behind her. “Where do you want to eat?”
“Let’s get takeaway instead. I would love to try my hand at the telephone again!”
“And scare another worker?” Hermione hollowly teased. The last time Luna used the phone, she started rambling about the Three-Horned Snorlack her dad found, and hadn’t realized the restaurant hung up until a recorded voice said so.
“Hermione, you’re wearing your internship robes. I thought you weren’t supposed to wear them out of the office.”
Hermione looked down at her robes and realized they were in fact the lilac colored robes she wore to the law firm. How dark was it in her room that she thought they were plum? She let out a laugh that she hoped didn’t sound strained. “You’re right. If you give me a few more minutes, I can put on a different set.”
“Only if you wish. My stories are the same, whether they be at your kitchen table or a restaurant’s.”
“I promise I’ll be ready in a few more minutes,” Hermione said as she opened the door behind her and slipped inside, leaving Luna in the hall. She casted a Lumos at the light, and took in her room. Clothes strewn across the floor, papers piled haphazardly on every flat surface, and the noticeably empty spaces on the wall.
She tossed her law firm robe onto her bed before attacking the first pile of laundry. It was clean, but there were no robes in there. She moved onto the next before quickly abandoning it, as it was dirty. The next one was also dirty, but the robe was near the top. Surely a few freshening charms would make it as good as new…
“Oh, Hermione,” Luna softly gasped behind her. She hadn’t noticed her friend entering.
“What are you doing?” she said acerbly.
Luna flinched. “Crookshanks was pawing at the door, so I let him in.” She pointed towards the orange menace, who was already getting comfortable on the pile of clean laundry.
Hermione sighed. “I’m sorry, Luna. I didn’t mean to snap at you. My room is such a mess, I didn’t want anyone to see.”
“I can see why you wanted to get out of the house,” she replied, flouncing over to Hermione’s wardrobe. “You have an entire colony of wrackspurts in here. However, they are steadfastly avoiding this robe. There must be some sort of protection woven into it.” Luna pulled out the garish Weasley Wizard Wheezes robe and held it out to her friend. “You should wear this one.”
Hermione really didn’t want to wear it, but she didn’t have a choice if they were going into a magical area. “Fine.” She gestured for Luna to hand it over to her, and she threw it on. “Ready to go?” she asked as she stalked out of her room.
“Of course!” Luna breezily followed her out into the hall. “There’s this vindaloo restaurant in Bath that has good reviews. And it’ll be much quieter than Diagon or Hogsmeade.”
“That sounds perfect.” Hermione didn’t care to deal with the crowds today, especially in this outfit. She led Luna out of her flat, locking the door behind her. She took a deep breath, appreciating the crisp air of Oxford. The two women made their way down the street towards the Ministry designated apparition point.
“Do you want to side-along with me, or have you been there before?” Luna asked when they were about ten paces away.
“Can I side-along?” Hermione hesitantly asked. She didn’t feel confident enough not to splinch herself.
“Of course! Not many people visit the Bath Magic District.” Luna grabbed her hand, and suddenly they were squeezed through the tube of time and space and spat out in Bath.
Hermione never visited the Bath Magical District and the best way to describe it was quaint. Not like Hogsmeade, which had the weight of history everywhere, but in a countryside village vibe. Luna started down the cobblestone path and Hermione followed, zigzagging around various stalls in a farmer’s market of sorts. Eventually, they made it to a tiny shop. If Luna wasn’t there to guide her, Hermione knew she would’ve walked right past it.
They entered the restaurant and Luna waved at the hostess before taking a seat at the table wedged into the back corner of the restaurant, right next to the kitchen door. The hostess came over with a pot of chai before leaving again.
“Where are the menus?” Hermione asked as Luna prepared a cup for herself.
“They only serve one item: chicken vindaloo. They’re making it in the kitchen for us now.”
“That can’t possibly be a good business model.”
Luna took a sip of tea. “If you can make the best of something, why would you offer something else. It would all be mediocre in comparison.”
“I guess. How did you discover this place?”
“Daddy took me here a lot, especially after mum died. I find it comforting to eat here.”
“So it reminds you of childhood?”
“I guess.” Luna shrugged. “It helped me feel warm and happy and loved during a time where there was a lot of sadness and grief. I felt you needed the same.”
“Luna, I don’t want to bore you with my school and internship. I want to hear about what you did in Brazil! Did you find the heliopaths in the Amazon?”
Her friend stared at her long and hard, as if she were a puzzle she was trying to solve. “You know, animals are very attuned to their owner’s emotions.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. Ginny told me Pig always knows when she loses a game. He’ll sit on her shoulder in support until he thinks she feels better.”
“That’s very fascinating, Luna, but I don’t see what that has to do with me.”
“Crookshanks was very concerned when I stopped by today. You’ve been shutting him out and he doesn’t like it. He may not be able to see the wrackspurts like I can, but he knows something is going on.”
“Luna, I’m fine. I’ve just been a bit stressed out lately with university and the internship. That’s all. There's a lot on my plate and I haven’t had the time to clean. Crookshanks can have the rest of the flat, but he can’t have my piles of clean laundry.”
“Is that why you have no pictures up anymore?” The hostess arrived with two plates of chicken vindaloo and rice. “Oh, this is lovely. Thank you Priya.” Luna said as the woman walked away.
“What?”
“Were you expecting something different?” Luna asked as she cut into a piece of chicken. “It’s best to eat it while it’s hot.”
“I have pictures up, Luna.”
“But none of your friends and family. They used to be everywhere, and now there’s architecture and landscapes everywhere.”
Hermione blocked out the whispers that stayed in the back of her mind. Of being a failure, a fluke, a fraud. “I’m getting some new frames for them, custom,” she lied before taking a bite of her meal. “Wow, this could get a Michelin Star if it were in a muggle area.”
She expected Luna to ask what a Michelin Star was or what having one meant, but instead, the blonde just nodded. Hermione clenched her fork while the whispers mocked her. Always have to be a know-it-all, don’t you.
“Maybe I’ll start a new column in the Quibbler about great spots to eat in Magical Britain.”
“That sounds like fun. So, how was Brazil?”
“It was very interesting. Did you know that there is a species of magical toads that have literal toadstools growing off their backs in a symbiotic relationship? It’s said that these mushrooms can help cure fogginess of the mind and soul.”
“It can combat old age?” Hermione asked. “That can help people with Alzheimer’s and dementia.”
“That’s what I thought at first. But they actually dry it and pulverize it into a powder to help people who are having a difficult time being themselves. My therapist said it’s similar to a muggle SSRI.”
“Luna, I’m not depressed. I’m doing fine. I promise.”
Her friend looked back at her with sorrowful eyes. “I know you, and you’re not fine. You don’t always have to be Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of Her Age or Hermione Granger, receipt of an Order of the Merlin, 1st class. Sometimes it’s okay to be just Hermione. And I think my friend Hermione needs help. Please, let me take some of the burden.”
With that final plea, Hermione felt something inside her shift. The blasé mask she kept up in front of everyone cracked and shattered. If she could, she thought she would be crying. Instead, she gave a wobbly smile towards Luna. “I can try.”