[Open] You stick to your yoghurts, I'll stick to my apple pie.
Luna Lovegood came to Chicago almost a week ago. She was sleepwalking at the time and found herself no longer at Hogwarts, but in the middle of a busy, foreign city instead. She was lucky enough to come across someone who was Wanderer-friendly and was lead to Kashtta
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Over half a year, really, and Hermione is a clever girl. She wrapped her head and her heart around the undeniable truth and pushed through, latching onto whatever precarious logic she could possibly find in such a perplexing situation.
Anyone from her home world would inevitably bring an ache into her chest, and that's exactly what happens when Hermione stumbles on Luna Lovegood.
She'd been on her way to the library, to no one's utter shock, and she often takes a shortcut through the park. It's become something of a routine, and Hermione does rather like setting up a schedule for herself. Her steps slow down and she's almost afraid to ask, but no--she's a Gryffindor.
Never mind the other girl is in mid-conversation with a squirrel. "Luna?"
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And while Hermione latches on her logic about their situation, Luna keeps her own logic too. She doesn't see herself as trapped here. She knows the situation is sad and may be a particularly frustrating one for some - but Luna knows in her heart that she won't be here forever. Perhaps there is some reason she is yet to work out as to why she's here.
It's simply a matter of time, patience and hope.
"Oh, hello Hermione," she says with a dreamy smile.
Uttering a polite apology to the squirrel, she turns round to face her friend. "It's very nice to see you here,"
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About their situation, about Harry, about things she'd rather be in control of.
It comes as absolutely no surprise Luna's approach is in direct opposition to Hermione's, but she can't help the small smile that spreads across her face; bittersweet and somewhat relieved, all in all. Different as they may be.
It's a piece of home, much as Hermione would not wish this on anyone.
"It is very good to see you," she says in reply, quiet.
Stepping further toward her, Hermione assesses her carefully. "How long have you been here, Luna?"
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"That could be rather useful," Hermione says pragmatically, and she can think of several different circumstances in which this could be true. "I've yet to discover my own Rift ability, and I've been here for much longer."
Needless to say, while Hermione would rather know and finds it vexing she does not, there's also a comfort to it.
She doesn't want something that could possibly hinder any abilities she already does have ( ... )
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When Hermione mentions having not found her ability yet, she tilts her head to the side - staring off into the far distance in thought. She wonders if the Rift gives abilities that are relative to the person. If she had to guess, it would be something to do with Hermione's intelligence. Something has changed in her mind too, perhaps.
"I'm sure you'll find out what it is soon enough," she says finally with a smile, finally refocusing on Hermione.
"Oh, I see," she says, raising her eyebrows, "How peculiar and.. very confusing too. ...What moment in time did you fall through the Rift? I saw you at Professor Dumbledore's funeral and then I got here that night,"
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At least Luna will understand you in that form!
"I certainly hope so, I have been researching different types of abilities Wanderers are given throughout the years," she says a bit stubbornly, as Hermione is wont to do.
"It wasn't long after that. It was at the end of my Sixth year. I was about to join Harry in the search for the horcruxes. I found myself here instead," she muses to herself, almost distantly. She remembers the heaviness inside her head, saying Obliviate, watching as every memory of her slipped from her parents' minds. But it was necessary.
"Harry is older than us both now."
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"Oh? What else does the Rift do to people?" She would like to find out! It is all very exciting for her, really. There might even be other people out in Chicago who might talk to animals too!
"Horcruxes?" she asks quietly with a tilt of the head. She quietly reaches for her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze in comfort.
She hasn't heard of such things, but she instantly knows that it's not something good. Old magic. And knowing what sort of state the Wizarding World was in by the time she left, very dark.
"How strange!" Luna says with raised eyebrows, "How old is he now?"
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"It gives them supernatural abilities, most of the time. Some develope a form of telepathy. Others are experience physical alterations, their hair color or eye color. Some of them gain control over one of the elements. Fire, water, wind."
Hermione looks down when Luna takes her hand, and something about the gesture makes her smile earnestly. She squeezes Luna's hand back as they walk. The smile fades as she explains the horcruxes, pieces of Voldemort's soul, scattered in different objects. Destroying them would destroy Voldemort. Speaking of it reminds her of home, of everything she misses, of Ron. "Before anything could happen, however, I found myself here instead."
She laughs a little, agreeing. "Terribly strange. He'll be eighteen this July. Knowing Harry, he won't even ( ... )
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