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At first Hermione only thinks about going along with it because someone has to save Luna from herself. (Harry might’ve given her the big sad green eyes too, the git. His adoring girlfriend just laughed when Hermione complained about it over drinks that evening. Well. At least Ginny also laughs at him when Harry tries to pull the same trick on her.)
Then Ron catches wind of the offer. He thinks it’s brilliant. You always wanted to do a big road trip, he reminds her. To see the world and not just read about it.
Go, he says.
I’ll wait for you.
And she does - want to. The war had been hard on everybody, even in its ending. Her parents…
They’re not dead, Hermione tells herself fiercely. They’re just not her parents right now. Once the last few die-hard Death Eaters are caught, it will be safe to brew the counterpotion.
(How else could she have protected them? Curses and Dark Lords and creatures out of myth - her ordinary middle-aged dentist parents wouldn’t have stood a chance. There was no other way; they’ll understand.)
It’ll be like it never happened.
But still, Luna? They were friends now, of course, but that didn’t erase the occasional urge to shake the blonde like a pound-store snowglobe. Seeing bloody Crumple-Horned Snorkacks every bloody— Exactly when did it become a good idea to put the two of them alone together in a small enclosed space capable of achieving high velocities?!
She’d go with Ron - she’d like to go with Ron - but he says he should stay close to home for a little while longer. The Weasleys need to be a family right now.
That’s another reason to go. Hermione doesn’t need the re— doesn’t need to intrude on their still-healing grief.
And yet she dithers.
(It’s not like her to be so indecisive, she knows. But in this strange new world where Voldemort is gone, she’s an eighteen-year-old school drop-out, and the future suddenly extends beyond next week, what is “like her”?)
Until Ron - steady, anchor-true Ron - gives up on leaving maps in all of her favourite books and packs her a bag.
“Right,” he says cheerfully, as he steers her towards the door of the Burrow. “You’ve got enough in there for at least two weeks, three if you don’t get all girly over underwear. Pig can find you just about anywhere and I can find you through him.” Outside, a car was haphazardly parked just off the road on the side closest to them. Luna stood in front of it, dreamily staring into the sky. Ron slings the duffel into the boot and kisses Hermione firmly before handing her a package of sandwiches. She takes them with a kind of blank acceptance, the same way she took Ron throwing her things into a bag in the first place and escorting her from her room.
“These are snacks, they are important. Mum says it’s best to finish them up within the week.”
He gently tucks a wayward lock of hair back behind her ear. Hermione blinks up at him.
“Have fun, ‘Mione.” The soft words hold more meaning than they should.
He kisses her one last time, slower and more thoroughly, then heads back inside with a jaunty wave to their former schoolmate.
She is left there. Alone.
With Luna Lovegood.
Who has rejoined the rest of the world, judging by the way her eyes were suddenly in focus again.
“Hello, Hermione. It’s nice to see you again,” the other woman chirps.
“It’s… nice to see you too, Luna.” A lukewarm greeting at best, but it doesn’t seem to faze Luna.
Although - had anything fazed Luna? Ever?
“Reports are coming in about a terrible outbreak of Blibbering Humdingers in Bath. Shall we investigate?”
Blibbering Humdingers? Clearly just a badly cast Caterwauling Charm.
Hermione has only one thing to say: “I’m driving.”