*
"Weasley, are you coming along—OR WHAT?!"
Ginny recognizes Gwenog Jones' scowl, and the enthusiastic impatience of Ginny's fellow teammates waving to Ginny. They're all in uniform, along with Ginny herself, wearing the dark green robes featuring a gold talon emblazoned on their chests.
Romilda Vane suggested celebrating their win against the Bigonville Bombers with pints, waving them to the Leaky Cauldron.
But…
Ginny swears that… yes, that is indeed Hermione's softly lecturing voice and a flash of Luna's hair. She hesitates, making the Holyhead Harpies glance over in frustration and confusion. "I'm not!" Ginny yells back, racing after a familiar silvery-blonde in the crowds.
Laughter billows out of Ginny's lips, frosting the air.
*
She discovers Hermione and Luna together.
Together… together.
Hermione fusses, clucking her tongue behind her teeth, grasping Luna's hand in hers as they stroll on. "It's very nice to see you again, Ginny, it is," she assures, taking in the curiosity lingering in Ginny's eyes. "I understand it doesn't make up for the—"
"No owls? No letters?" Ginny points out, but it lacks any malice. She offers a slight smile as Hermione's shoulders lower.
Luna blinks, a little less dreamy-eyed than usual.
"Would you like to come with us, Ginny?" she questions, holding out her empty hand.
Ginny answers by clasping onto Luna's hand, with a similar and determined roughness to Hermione's own grasp on Luna's hand.
Her pulse quickens.
Merlin, how long has it been—
She remembers the taste of cherry cordial on Hermione's full, warm lips during Ginny's thirteenth Christmas—she remembers stroking Luna's wrist in their fifth year of Hogwarts, waiting for Potions to start, Ginny's thumbnail tracing M-I-N-E over and over—
Oh, Merlin help her—
*
It's a short walk into Ollivanders.
Ginny enters last, Luna's fingers wrapped in hers, staring at the thousands and thousands of wand-boxes haphazardly stacked. Even though Mr Ollivander rebuilt his shop in Diagon Alley, along with all of the cases and shelves… everything's dusty again.
It reminds her of the days before her first year… all of Ginny's conflicting emotions of leaving home but eagerness to go…
Mr Ollivander notices the trio of witches, nodding and stepping off his ladder. "Ah, yes…" he mumbles, eyeing Luna, and her mismatched blue socks, and transparently pink lolly earrings, "yes… poplar, unicorn hair, five and one quarter inches…"
"We just call her Luna, Mr Ollivander," Ginny quips, muffling a snicker into her other hand when Hermione tuts at her.
"Are you well? Have you been sleeping more?" Luna asks, seeming concerned for a moment. She releases Ginny and Hermione, touching onto Mr Ollivander's forearm. "Your colour is much better than it was when we were being held captive."
The faintest flicker of a smile deepens Mr Ollivander's wrinkles.
"Quite well." He returns to the stacks of wands. "I presume you need a third wand, Miss Lovegood."
"My second wand was destroyed in the poisonous slime of a Streeler," Luna informs him, and Ginny's forehead furrows. "It is a species of giant snail found in the upper regions of Africa. It change colours every hour—I haven't yet discovered why it does."
"Poplar was too standardised for someone such as yourself." Mr Ollivander reaches for a thin, dark sapphire box. "We can—"
"—is that rowan?" Hermione blurts out, frowning, and for a moment, Mr Ollivander startles in silence. "Rowan is more suited for dueling than charmwork—unless it was defensive charms," she says, huffing. "An Auror would be lucky to have a rowan wand."
"I do not believe I wish to be an Auror," Luna announces as if solemn.
Ginny bites on her lip quivering with the effort to not laugh.
"I would not presume as such, Miss Lovegood." Ollivander reaches out again, but this time for an emerald box. "How about a—"
"Laurel wouldn't do, would it?" Hermione says, nodding as Luna clutches the shining, bronze-coloured wand with her wand-hand. She waves her arm. A couple of rosy sparks illuminate to life. "It's only known for working with people who desire power."
She can't help it—Ginny snickers.
Hermione, as a tiny and underaged witch, must have rattled off all of this information to Mr Ollivander when she got her first wand. Ginny can see it and hear it. All of that bushy, brown hair, and Hermione's adorably high but serious tone. As serious as working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Ginny rarely sees Hermione out of properly straightened Ministry robes. It's a shame really. She's beautiful.
Mr Ollivander doesn't seem upset to be interrupted by Hermione as Luna goes through another two wands, sparking uselessly.
"Ash," Mr Ollivander declares, "Ash embodies compassion. Those who can successfully wield ash are known for being free-thinkers. Despite being immersed in their own mind, wielders of ash wands are often proven to be more than a quiet demeanor."
"It pairs well with yew and vine—"
Ginny's snickers halt. She feels the weight of her wand in her coat-jacket like it's an anvil.
"Those who wield yew are natural-born leaders. Strong and passionate about in belief. They desire challenges, Miss Weasley."
"And vine—" Hermione's throat visibly clenches. "Yes, Miss Granger, those who have had a vine wand choose them—they are often indecisive. They have a need for rewards and opportunities given to them. Vine wands are sensitive to all forms of magic."
"I see," she breathes, hanging her head.
Mr Ollivander passes her, clapping Hermione's shoulder with encouragement.
"Do not fret, Miss Granger. Your wand is as loyal to you as you are to those you love."
"May I ask for a specific wand core?" Luna says airily, turning everyone's head.
"I'm afraid that is not how your wand core presents itself."
"Then would you please add something to its core, Mr Ollivander?" Luna faces to Ginny and Hermione. "I need a strand of hair."
"From… me?" Ginny says this, as if deeply doubtful, and Hermione folds her arms.
"Both of you. I would like to add your hair strands into my wand."
"Why?"
"My new wand should represent those I love," Luna tells them, and it is if this is the simplest thing in the universe. Hermione's eyes moisten. She embraces Luna, holding her face against her neck. Ginny nearly gasps out, her own eyes prickling tears.
Mr Ollivander 'hmms'.
"I am afraid that a Wizarding hair or two is not enough, however—ash, dragonheart string, eight inches—will suffice."
"Thank you," Luna says politely.
She blinks inquisitively as Ginny suddenly and swiftly embraces her, and Hermione, the tip of Ginny's nose nuzzling Hermione.
Merlin, is this real—
It has to be. It has to be together.
*