"What would that be?"
"I'm not sure yet," she shrugged, raising her inquisitive fingertips to see if her lips felt any different. "Clearly, it's bad for me."
"I think it suits you," Luna grinned to herself, her eyes fixed on nature's light-display to the East. "Looks like you might be having a stronger reaction this time though."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, your cheeks are flushed this time," she told the older witch blankly. "And your eyes look a little glazed-
"That's probably just the cold," Hermione defended weakly.
"No," the Ravenclaw shook her head. "It's something else. You look very pretty by it though, Hermione."
She offered her friend a weak smile. "Thank you," she mumbled.
"I heard you're taking a trip to Hogsmeade on Saturday," Luna said slowly, and Hermione watched the first golds of morning dance over her friend's face. "With Michael, yes?"
"Yes," she nodded. "Would you like anything?"
"Would you mind getting me some Liquorice Wands from Honeydukes?"
Hermione frowned. "I didn't think you liked them?"
"I don't."
The brunette cocked her head to the side and observed her companion slowly, noting that Luna herself looked a little different. While the pretty blonde's eyes were striking, yet normally absent, recently they seemed to hold that curious twinkle of a girl with a secret. A good secret.
"Can I ask you something, Luna?"
Ravenclaw's angel slowly twisted her head to give Hermione her full attention. "Of course," she replied. "I'll try to answer."
"Some of the others have noticed that you aren't here at the weekends and some other days," she told her carefully. "Where do you go?"
If Luna was phased, she didn't show it. "I didn't think that people would notice my absence."
"Oh Luna," Hermione grimaced. "You know we care about you a lot. Of course we would-
"I didn't mean it in that way," she interrupted as a slight twitch toyed with her mouth. "People tend not to notice others' behaviour so much in times of War. It's only normal. I'm actually quite touched that anyone has realised."
"So where do you go?" she persisted. "If you are in any trouble then we can help you."
Luna released a soft giggle and Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I am fine," the younger witch said. "I am very well actually, but I'm afraid I can't tell you where I go."
"Why not?"
"It would not be safe for the other party involved," Luna murmured, her expression turning thoughtful and almost concerned for a second. "I'm sorry. It would be too risky to tell people, and it's not only my secret to tell."
While Hermione understood Luna's reasoning and rationalised that she had no right to demand knowledge of secrets when she was concealing a Death Eater in her dorm, something in her friend's voice had her intrigued.
"You care about this other person?" Hermione questioned hesitantly. "You must if you are willing to take these risks for them."
"Aren't we all taking risks these days?"
"I'm just worried about you," she continued with a sad tone. "This War-
"Sometimes, Wars can bring good things," Luna said as she got to her feet. "They can teach people to hold on to what feels right, even if there are risks involved."
Hermione stared at her friend as she made her way towards the castle, and tossed Luna's parting words around in her skull. As always, the blonde had left her feeling somewhere between bewildered and enlightened, and wondering if Luna commanded one of her imaginary creatures to spy on her at night. She turned her head to give the half-risen Sun an appreciative gaze and gathered her limbs closer around herself as she huddled under the withered Oak.
She needed to concentrate on her tasks for the Order and toss aside these hopeful thoughts about Draco. It was inappropriate and completely naïve, no matter how tempting it was to analyse it in her head.
But it was too hard to ignore.
She was late for her first class after a stubborn daydream managed to mist her mind, and she cursed her brain for letting him slip in. Again.
.
.
For two days, he successfully avoided her by remaining secluded in his room, except for bathroom trips and to grab the warm meals she continued to leave for him. He guessed she was also doing her best to steer clear of him, and that would have been fine, if he wasn't starting to lose his grip on reality.
It wasn't the claustrophobia this time either.
No, he could feel the change in his blood and bones. It was a craving; perhaps just for human interaction, or perhaps specifically for her. It throbbed in his veins and made his muscles spasm with unhealthy jerks. He'd broken out in cold sweats, shivered until his spine had felt like snapping, and had almost vomited. It felt like withdrawal, but maybe the cold weather had simply caught up with him.
The only medicine seemed to be a desperate wank to the sounds of her showers, but then that only lasted for thirty minutes in his day-long Hell.
He'd been awake for a few hours now, waiting for her usual purrs to ease the strain in his body. If he had to guess by the place of the Sun, it was broaching the afternoon, which meant that another weekend had oozed into his stay with her.
.
.
.
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