Ficlet - Life Lessons
Title: Life Lessons
Characters: Luna/Hermione
Prompt: Lessons (not school)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 430
Suggested by: sirius_trouble
A polite knock at the door to their apartment - no, her apartment, she reminded herself. It had been hers since Ron had died - the knock brought Hermione out of the quiet staring she’d been doing. She hoped it wasn’t anyone she knew; the last thing she needed was another well-wisher or someone who would stand around awkwardly while they drank tea. She just wanted to be able to slam the door in their faces - no more “I’m so sorry”s or “if there’s anything I can do,”s. Just… to end it all.
Leaning her shoulder tiredly against the wall as she opened the door to her flat, it took Hermione a moment to register the tawny blonde standing in front of her.
“Luna?” she asked, blinking stupidly. “What are you doing here?”
“To teach you a lesson,” she replied simply. The former Ravenclaw slipped past Hermione and into the flat, looking around with huge, watery eyes that saw far too much.
“It’s really quite grotty, innit?” Luna said, standing in the middle of the small living room. Hermione turned around and stared at the blonde intruder. Luna’s eyes met hers, unblinking. “You should really stop wallowing.”
“Excuse me?” Hermione asked, frowning. Luna grated on her nerves, always had, and probably always would.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Luna said. “They’re dead. No matter how much you sit here like a sniffler over a coin, you’re not getting better, or helping anyone.” She sat down on the fold-out sofa where Hermione and Ron had made their lives together and picked up a two month old copy of the Daily Prophet. A grim-looking Ron and Harry graced the cover under the headline: Dark Lord Defeated - Boy-Who-Lived and Classmate Perish in the Final Battle. Luna’s fingers touched the parchment, the two figures beneath staring up at her, blinking occasionally.
Hermione walked slowly, inexplicably moving towards the sofa. She sat down heavily next to her old classmate. “What do I do?” she whispered, staring at the aging paper on her sometimes-friend’s lap. Hermione had always had all the answers. For once, though, she didn’t know what to do. She’d lost her boyfriend - husband, she corrected herself silently. They’d been married in a quiet ceremony in the Burrow less than a month before he’d been killed - and her best friend in the same day. She had no one to talk to, no one who would understand. Everyone kept her at a distance, wanting to give her the “space” she needed.
Luna wrapped her arms around Hermione, who started to cry for the first time in years.
Characters: Luna/Hermione
Prompt: Lessons (not school)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 430
Suggested by: sirius_trouble
A polite knock at the door to their apartment - no, her apartment, she reminded herself. It had been hers since Ron had died - the knock brought Hermione out of the quiet staring she’d been doing. She hoped it wasn’t anyone she knew; the last thing she needed was another well-wisher or someone who would stand around awkwardly while they drank tea. She just wanted to be able to slam the door in their faces - no more “I’m so sorry”s or “if there’s anything I can do,”s. Just… to end it all.
Leaning her shoulder tiredly against the wall as she opened the door to her flat, it took Hermione a moment to register the tawny blonde standing in front of her.
“Luna?” she asked, blinking stupidly. “What are you doing here?”
“To teach you a lesson,” she replied simply. The former Ravenclaw slipped past Hermione and into the flat, looking around with huge, watery eyes that saw far too much.
“It’s really quite grotty, innit?” Luna said, standing in the middle of the small living room. Hermione turned around and stared at the blonde intruder. Luna’s eyes met hers, unblinking. “You should really stop wallowing.”
“Excuse me?” Hermione asked, frowning. Luna grated on her nerves, always had, and probably always would.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Luna said. “They’re dead. No matter how much you sit here like a sniffler over a coin, you’re not getting better, or helping anyone.” She sat down on the fold-out sofa where Hermione and Ron had made their lives together and picked up a two month old copy of the Daily Prophet. A grim-looking Ron and Harry graced the cover under the headline: Dark Lord Defeated - Boy-Who-Lived and Classmate Perish in the Final Battle. Luna’s fingers touched the parchment, the two figures beneath staring up at her, blinking occasionally.
Hermione walked slowly, inexplicably moving towards the sofa. She sat down heavily next to her old classmate. “What do I do?” she whispered, staring at the aging paper on her sometimes-friend’s lap. Hermione had always had all the answers. For once, though, she didn’t know what to do. She’d lost her boyfriend - husband, she corrected herself silently. They’d been married in a quiet ceremony in the Burrow less than a month before he’d been killed - and her best friend in the same day. She had no one to talk to, no one who would understand. Everyone kept her at a distance, wanting to give her the “space” she needed.
Luna wrapped her arms around Hermione, who started to cry for the first time in years.