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uniquepov
Recipient:martinius
<<1>>
Title: Portrait of Love
Pairing: Luna/Hermione
Rating: G
Word Count: 701
Summary: People think they’re polar opposites, but they know the truth.
Author's Notes: This is a bit different than my normal style, but I couldn’t shake the idea. I hope you like it. <3
On first glance, Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger seemed a very odd sort of couple, indeed.
In fact, they seemed to all the world to be polar opposites.
Luna was ethereal; with her silvery blonde hair, pale skin and beatific smile, she was light incarnate. She loved everyone and gave people every chance in the world to break her heart, blissfully sure that “they didn’t mean it like that,” or that it was “all good fun.” To most people, she seemed childlike and fragile, as though she wasn’t quite aware of her surroundings or, at least, as though she might have had a few bats in her attic. She’d made a modest name for herself, outside of her role in the war, as a poet, artist and author. People ignored her ramblings as mere flights of fancy, conveniently forgetting the touch of Seer which often made her startlingly correct.
Hermione, by contrast, was logic personified. The ‘brightest witch of her age,’ she was acutely aware of everything going on in the world and its social, ecological and financial ramifications. Her honey-brown curls and chocolate eyes were the earth to Luna’s sunshine. Somewhat guarded, and slow to love, but as fiercely loyal and Gryffindor-ish as she’d been at Hogwarts. The youngest Minister of Magic in history, she’d led wizarding Britain into a new era of tolerance, social justice and progress after Kingsley Shacklebolt’s “war recovery” programs.
Acquaintances often marveled at the contrast between them, but the women would simply smile enigmatically and say, “Well, you know what they say about opposites attracting.”
That was the response they’d agreed upon years ago, but those closest to them knew the truth.
And the truth was that the two weren’t opposites at all.
There were differences, to be sure; differences that complemented the other so perfectly, they truly seemed to be two halves of a whole.
Luna’s dreamy nature allowed Hermione to let go on occasion, preventing her from sinking into earnest seriousness. Without her, Hermione could have gone days without laughter, smiles or flights of fancy; bogged down as she was with affairs of state and social causes. Luna’s presence in her life gave her permission to stop being the female third of the Golden Trio, to stop being the strong-minded, vocal activist, to stop being the Minister of Magic… and to just be herself.
Hermione’s strength kept Luna from a tendency to lose herself in her stories and dreams. Her faith in people’s inherent goodness made her seem an easy target for predators, but she was surprisingly shrewd, often offering Hermione an unexpected insight into the personal agendas of the people they interacted with. A brilliant witch, like her mother before her; Luna had the same tendencies to experimentation and creative thinking. It was Hermione’s grounding influence that kept Luna rooted in reality, even if her head remained firmly in the clouds.
Luna and Hermione, Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley, her brother Ron and Pansy Parkinson… none were pairings that anyone would have predicted, but while the rest of the wizarding world shook their heads and marveled, the other survivors knew and understood the bond they shared.
The battle scars from a war whose remembrances had faded in the intervening decades. Not just the physical scars, although both women bore them, but the emotional and psychological scars which were not as easily seen or healed. The inevitable guilt which haunted all the survivors and which had caused those closest to the fray to pair up in unlikely combinations.
The shared experiences that outsiders could never truly share or understand. Their Hogwarts years, yes, but also the years of rebuilding which followed the Final Battle, the shared grief from their losses and a world that was slow to heal.
The forged steel of love that has seen too much loss, too young. The staunch determination that they will not lose another friend, family member or lover again, if there was anything in their power to prevent it.
They might look differently, act and even think differently, but at the core of their souls, they were the same.
A shared past.
A shared love.
A shared future.
A shared life.
***
<<2>>
Title: Rituals
Pairing: Luna/Hermione
Rating: PG
Word Count: 765
Summary: Hermione and Luna observe the Winter Solstice.
Hermione stepped through the Floo into the entryway of a cosy cottage located deep in the Peak District. Wide farmhouse windows afforded sweeping views on a clear day, but the brunette did not spare a glance for the surrounding landscape, pale and fog-bound as it was in the early morning light, as she hurried through the hall and up the stairs.
She had been up all night, in a meeting with the other European Ministers, and now she had less than thirty minutes before the sun rose above the horizon. It was the morning of the Winter Solstice, and she had promised Luna that she would be present to observe the dawn rituals with her. Hermione had never imagined that the meetings would go on for so long.
She practically ran to the bedroom, stripping her clothes as she went, sending them all hanging neatly on the back of the door, as she began donning the ritual robes Luna had designed. Shoving her feet into a stout pair of Wellies, she ran outside and across the field behind their cottage into a sparse wood, where they had found a small circle of standing stones. The circle was nowhere near as impressive as Stonehenge or Avebury, but Hermione still felt a small ripple of magic as she entered the outer ring and ran towards the main circle where Luna was no doubt preparing for the ritual.
At the edge of the main circle, Hermione paused to center herself before entering the ceremonial space. Observing the Old Ways was something that Luna’s parents had instilled in her from a young age. She upheld the traditions faithfully, and Hermione would not have disrupted her intentions for anything in the world.
Once calmed, centered and breathing normally, Hermione entered the inner circle and stepped behind Luna, wrapping her arms about the blonde’s waist and nuzzling her neck softly in greeting. Luna smiled fondly as she arranged the wood for the fire, which they would light as the sun’s first rays struck the clearing. The stout oak log, with dried thorn bush and ash parings as kindling, finally met Luna’s exacting standards and she turned her attention to her companion.
“Ready?” Luna asked brightly.
Hermione nodded.
They shed their Wellies and began the ritual barefoot, laying freshly cut mistletoe on the offering stone and pouring wine over it gently as Luna chanted softly. The sun slowly peeked over the horizon, for once not hidden by the cloud cover which customarily hung over the Midlands. As its sparkling rays flowed into the clearing and washed over the two witches, Hermione and Luna raised their wands, saluted the sun, and simultaneously touched their wands to the kindling. The fire roared to life, heralding the start of a new cycle and the return of the Light.
Luna reached into the pocket of her robes and withdrew two tightly rolled parchments. She stepped closer to the fire. “We welcome again the return of the Light and say goodbye to the troubles that have gone before us.” With that, she cast her two parchments into the fire and both women watched as the flames caught the parchment eagerly.
Hermione smiled at her companion, before producing two similarly rolled parchments from her own robes. She stepped closer to the fire and intoned, “We welcome again the return of the Light and into its presence we commend our hopes for the future.” Hermione tossed her parchments into the dancing flames and watched the smoke curl heavenward.
Once the ritual had concluded, the two dismantled the circle and the remnants of the ritual, before donning their boots once again to walk hand in hand back towards the house.
“I’m sorry I was late,” Hermione said softly.
“That’s all right,” came Luna’s musical reply. “You were there when it mattered; you always are.” She squeezed the brunette’s hand reassuringly.
“Shall we warm up by the fire for a bit?” Hermione asked now.
Luna nodded. “I laid another Yule log in the fireplace, ready for lighting,” she said earnestly. “I’ll make us some tea.”
Hermione smiled. “Sounds lovely,” she agreed, holding the door for her lover.
“There are several other rituals involving mistletoe that I’d like to make you familiar with,” Luna said as she hesitated on the doorstep.
Hermione quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
Nodding, Luna pointed to something above her head. Hermione looked up to see a large cluster of mistletoe hanging above the threshold.
“And I think I’d like to start right now,” the blonde said with a smile, as she leaned in for a kiss.
uniquepovRecipient:
martinius<<1>>
Title: Portrait of Love
Pairing: Luna/Hermione
Rating: G
Word Count: 701
Summary: People think they’re polar opposites, but they know the truth.
Author's Notes: This is a bit different than my normal style, but I couldn’t shake the idea. I hope you like it. <3
On first glance, Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger seemed a very odd sort of couple, indeed.
In fact, they seemed to all the world to be polar opposites.
Luna was ethereal; with her silvery blonde hair, pale skin and beatific smile, she was light incarnate. She loved everyone and gave people every chance in the world to break her heart, blissfully sure that “they didn’t mean it like that,” or that it was “all good fun.” To most people, she seemed childlike and fragile, as though she wasn’t quite aware of her surroundings or, at least, as though she might have had a few bats in her attic. She’d made a modest name for herself, outside of her role in the war, as a poet, artist and author. People ignored her ramblings as mere flights of fancy, conveniently forgetting the touch of Seer which often made her startlingly correct.
Hermione, by contrast, was logic personified. The ‘brightest witch of her age,’ she was acutely aware of everything going on in the world and its social, ecological and financial ramifications. Her honey-brown curls and chocolate eyes were the earth to Luna’s sunshine. Somewhat guarded, and slow to love, but as fiercely loyal and Gryffindor-ish as she’d been at Hogwarts. The youngest Minister of Magic in history, she’d led wizarding Britain into a new era of tolerance, social justice and progress after Kingsley Shacklebolt’s “war recovery” programs.
Acquaintances often marveled at the contrast between them, but the women would simply smile enigmatically and say, “Well, you know what they say about opposites attracting.”
That was the response they’d agreed upon years ago, but those closest to them knew the truth.
And the truth was that the two weren’t opposites at all.
There were differences, to be sure; differences that complemented the other so perfectly, they truly seemed to be two halves of a whole.
Luna’s dreamy nature allowed Hermione to let go on occasion, preventing her from sinking into earnest seriousness. Without her, Hermione could have gone days without laughter, smiles or flights of fancy; bogged down as she was with affairs of state and social causes. Luna’s presence in her life gave her permission to stop being the female third of the Golden Trio, to stop being the strong-minded, vocal activist, to stop being the Minister of Magic… and to just be herself.
Hermione’s strength kept Luna from a tendency to lose herself in her stories and dreams. Her faith in people’s inherent goodness made her seem an easy target for predators, but she was surprisingly shrewd, often offering Hermione an unexpected insight into the personal agendas of the people they interacted with. A brilliant witch, like her mother before her; Luna had the same tendencies to experimentation and creative thinking. It was Hermione’s grounding influence that kept Luna rooted in reality, even if her head remained firmly in the clouds.
Luna and Hermione, Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley, her brother Ron and Pansy Parkinson… none were pairings that anyone would have predicted, but while the rest of the wizarding world shook their heads and marveled, the other survivors knew and understood the bond they shared.
The battle scars from a war whose remembrances had faded in the intervening decades. Not just the physical scars, although both women bore them, but the emotional and psychological scars which were not as easily seen or healed. The inevitable guilt which haunted all the survivors and which had caused those closest to the fray to pair up in unlikely combinations.
The shared experiences that outsiders could never truly share or understand. Their Hogwarts years, yes, but also the years of rebuilding which followed the Final Battle, the shared grief from their losses and a world that was slow to heal.
The forged steel of love that has seen too much loss, too young. The staunch determination that they will not lose another friend, family member or lover again, if there was anything in their power to prevent it.
They might look differently, act and even think differently, but at the core of their souls, they were the same.
A shared past.
A shared love.
A shared future.
A shared life.
***
<<2>>
Title: Rituals
Pairing: Luna/Hermione
Rating: PG
Word Count: 765
Summary: Hermione and Luna observe the Winter Solstice.
Hermione stepped through the Floo into the entryway of a cosy cottage located deep in the Peak District. Wide farmhouse windows afforded sweeping views on a clear day, but the brunette did not spare a glance for the surrounding landscape, pale and fog-bound as it was in the early morning light, as she hurried through the hall and up the stairs.
She had been up all night, in a meeting with the other European Ministers, and now she had less than thirty minutes before the sun rose above the horizon. It was the morning of the Winter Solstice, and she had promised Luna that she would be present to observe the dawn rituals with her. Hermione had never imagined that the meetings would go on for so long.
She practically ran to the bedroom, stripping her clothes as she went, sending them all hanging neatly on the back of the door, as she began donning the ritual robes Luna had designed. Shoving her feet into a stout pair of Wellies, she ran outside and across the field behind their cottage into a sparse wood, where they had found a small circle of standing stones. The circle was nowhere near as impressive as Stonehenge or Avebury, but Hermione still felt a small ripple of magic as she entered the outer ring and ran towards the main circle where Luna was no doubt preparing for the ritual.
At the edge of the main circle, Hermione paused to center herself before entering the ceremonial space. Observing the Old Ways was something that Luna’s parents had instilled in her from a young age. She upheld the traditions faithfully, and Hermione would not have disrupted her intentions for anything in the world.
Once calmed, centered and breathing normally, Hermione entered the inner circle and stepped behind Luna, wrapping her arms about the blonde’s waist and nuzzling her neck softly in greeting. Luna smiled fondly as she arranged the wood for the fire, which they would light as the sun’s first rays struck the clearing. The stout oak log, with dried thorn bush and ash parings as kindling, finally met Luna’s exacting standards and she turned her attention to her companion.
“Ready?” Luna asked brightly.
Hermione nodded.
They shed their Wellies and began the ritual barefoot, laying freshly cut mistletoe on the offering stone and pouring wine over it gently as Luna chanted softly. The sun slowly peeked over the horizon, for once not hidden by the cloud cover which customarily hung over the Midlands. As its sparkling rays flowed into the clearing and washed over the two witches, Hermione and Luna raised their wands, saluted the sun, and simultaneously touched their wands to the kindling. The fire roared to life, heralding the start of a new cycle and the return of the Light.
Luna reached into the pocket of her robes and withdrew two tightly rolled parchments. She stepped closer to the fire. “We welcome again the return of the Light and say goodbye to the troubles that have gone before us.” With that, she cast her two parchments into the fire and both women watched as the flames caught the parchment eagerly.
Hermione smiled at her companion, before producing two similarly rolled parchments from her own robes. She stepped closer to the fire and intoned, “We welcome again the return of the Light and into its presence we commend our hopes for the future.” Hermione tossed her parchments into the dancing flames and watched the smoke curl heavenward.
Once the ritual had concluded, the two dismantled the circle and the remnants of the ritual, before donning their boots once again to walk hand in hand back towards the house.
“I’m sorry I was late,” Hermione said softly.
“That’s all right,” came Luna’s musical reply. “You were there when it mattered; you always are.” She squeezed the brunette’s hand reassuringly.
“Shall we warm up by the fire for a bit?” Hermione asked now.
Luna nodded. “I laid another Yule log in the fireplace, ready for lighting,” she said earnestly. “I’ll make us some tea.”
Hermione smiled. “Sounds lovely,” she agreed, holding the door for her lover.
“There are several other rituals involving mistletoe that I’d like to make you familiar with,” Luna said as she hesitated on the doorstep.
Hermione quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
Nodding, Luna pointed to something above her head. Hermione looked up to see a large cluster of mistletoe hanging above the threshold.
“And I think I’d like to start right now,” the blonde said with a smile, as she leaned in for a kiss.
