Fourteen

Luna's Wisdom

Luna's jaw hung open, her dreamy blue eyes wide. Cho, seated beside her girlfriend in the grass outside the Lovegood house, had clamped her hands over her mouth as she blinked rapidly at Hermione.

The Gryffindor witch frowned, her gaze on her own fingers as she plucked at the blades beneath them—dry and yellowed from losing their color in the late-autumn weather. The temperature had finally started to turn, reflecting the time of year, and the pair across from her shared a thick, knitted blanket, wrapped around their shoulders, while Hermione was buttoned up in a coat. If not for how beautiful the field surrounding Luna's home was—despite not having an enchantment in place to keep the plants in bloom year-round like Malfoy Manor—they'd be indoors.

That was all right; Hermione wasn't certain she wanted Xenophilius Lovegood—or anyone, really—overhearing what had happened in the library of Malfoy Manor three days prior. Harry would never forgive her.

And Draco . . . . No, not a pretty thought. He might forget trying to romance her in favor of hexing her. That tooth-enlargement mess in forth year was still surprisingly fresh in her mind.

After the incident in the library, the three of them had simply sat in the sun room, glasses of Fire Whiskey clutched in their hands as they each looked off in a different direction. Hermione, as seemed par for the course with anything involving those two, was seated between the pair of wizards. Though, her placement was quite against her will, as when they sat down she'd tried to walk away.

Each had slipped a hand 'round one of her wrists and pulled her back, causing her to fall onto the cushion between them.

Harry had refused to talk about it—or to even discuss anything involving Malfoy. Draco seemed to be avoiding both of them. Each time Hermione saw him at the Ministry, a quick slip of a grin would grace his lips, then there was a flicker in his expression. Suddenly, he would spin on his heel and walk off in the opposite direction.

Hermione couldn't say she actually minded, as she still had no idea what to say about the incident, either.

Cho's fingers slipped from her mouth. "So . . . Harry and Draco had a moment, is what you're saying?"

With a strangled whimpering sound, Hermione dropped her face into her hands and nodded.

"Well . . . ." The jet-eyed young woman cleared her throat. "I do suppose there are many much worse looking wizards to see almost kiss."

Hermione barked out a mirthless laugh. "This isn't funny, Cho." Though, she would probably see the humor in it, were she not right in the middle of this very peculiar situation. "This just makes everything more complicated. What am I going to do?"

Luna shrugged beneath the blanket and snuggled closer to Cho. "I don't think there's anything to do. I mean, isn't this actually a good thing? A thing that makes the situation less complicated?"

Hermione and Cho exchanged a look before they each returned their attention to Luna. "Okay, I must just be really stressed over this entire mess," Hermione said, shaking her head. "You are going to have to explain that to me."

Luna gave her usual breezy smile. "Okay, well, they've both made it clear that they're attracted to you, yeah?"

"More than clear," the brunette said in a mutter, a blush flaring in her cheeks.

"Hasn't that sort of been the biggest problem? That they both want you, and neither wants to share?"

Hermione felt a little trickle of warmth wind through her as Luna's meaning became clear in her mind. She sat up a little straighter, forcing a gulp down her throat. "And they wouldn't be so opposed to the idea, if they wanted each other the same way they want me?"

Her smile brightening, Luna shrugged again. "Makes sense to me."

Cho giggled, cupping her hands over her mouth a moment. "Merlin's beard, are you one lucky witch!"

"But it isn't that simple. It's—"

"Isn't it?" Luna's lips twitched side-to-side as she thought. "Look, it's plain to anyone paying attention that you're not as opposed to the marriage as you originally were, now are you?"

Hermione bit her lip, casting her gaze toward the sky. That much certainly was true—hadn't that been the reason for her little meltdown in the Malfoys' garden? Because she was rather certain she was falling for both of them?

It seemed utterly ludicrous, but . . . wouldn't things be simpler if she didn't feel so certain they were going to make her choose, regardless of what the terms of their impending marriage actually called for?

And she couldn't deny that she'd felt the same sort of giddy flutter through her stomach when she'd seen Draco and Harry in each other's faces like that as she did when she was alone with either of them. Wasn't she curious what might've happened in that library, had they not pulled away from each other?

The idea certainly had merit. Honestly, there were butterflies zipping through her belly just recalling that moment.

Oh, but this was all moot!

"No, no, wait." Hermione waved her hands about as she shook her head. "Aren't we losing sight of the fact that I'm trying to stop the forced marriages?"

Luna and Cho shared a glance. "No," the blonde said. "Of course not. But . . . wouldn't you be so much happier if you were going through with the wedding because you wanted to—and they wanted to—rather than because you're being forced?"

"You can still find a way to stop the issue that brought the marriage law about, but . . . ." Cho nodded, her expression brightening to match Luna's. "But if you can be happy in the situation you've found yourself in, who says that has to change?"

Hermione raked her fingers through her wild hair. This was madness, wasn't it? Still marrying not one of her wizards, but both of them, willingly? Harry and Draco would never be okay with that.

Unless she could make them see that it could work.

"They won't even look at one another, they'll barely talk to me right now. How do I get them to take a break from being stubborn long enough to even consider the possibility?"

The Ravenclaw couple across from her exchanged another glance. Returning their gazes to Hermione, they both nodded as they replied in unison, "Alcohol."

Hermione was nervous as she set out the books she hadn't gone through, yet. The final one was the one she found the most objectionable, as it involved mass-populace-affecting fertility charms, but if the source of the marriage laws was infertility—as Squib births were considered a form of infertility in the eyes of the magical community—that did make the most sense.

Yet, it was not the content of the books that had her pacing anxiously. It was waiting to see if her idiot wizards would show. Of course, she hadn't told either of them the other would be there.

It was the notion floating in the back of her mind that they might well destroy her flat hurling malign spells at one another.

When the doorbell chimed, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, calm down," she said to herself in a whisper as she stepped into the corridor and started downstairs.

At the door, she paused, drawing a deep breath and the letting it out slowly. Nodding to herself, she opened the door to find two markedly displeased sets of eyes glaring down at her.

"Oh," she said, the color draining from her cheeks as she stared back, her gaze flicking from one to the other, and back. "You're both—"

"What's he doing here?" they demanded at the same moment, each pointing to the other wizard.

Hermione backpedaled a step as the pair exchanged a quick, venomous glance.

Clearing her throat, she held her hands up in a sign of surrender. "Well, to be totally honest, I didn't expect you both to show at the same time, I thought one of you would already be upstairs when the other arrived, so there would be less fuss."

"Not really helping yourself here, Granger."

Harry nodded, but caught himself. "I'm actually forced to agree with Malfoy on this one."

"Okay, look," she said, slipping one hand 'round Harry's wrist and the other around Draco's and tugging them both into the small foyer. "I have decided this nonsense with the two of you has got to stop. I need help, and since you two are the only ones entertaining my fool notion about putting a stop to this wedding madness, we're going to forget about whatever did, or didn't, almost happen, so you two fools can assist me in my research."

"Nothing happened," they snapped in unison, each giving the other a quick, angry look, complete with squaring their jaws.

"Didn't I just say that?" Sighing, she shook her head. How had they managed to make the situation more strained? They were maddening. "Let's just go upstairs. I have all the books laid out. If things get too uncomfortable, you can leave."

"I'm already plenty uncomfortable, so I'll just be—"

"Don't you dare, Draco Malfoy," the witch said in a lethal whisper.

Turning on her heel, she reached back, once more grabbing hold of both of their wrists. As she all but dragged them up the stairs to her flat, Harry avoided so much as looking at Draco. He was utterly ignoring that on the narrow staircase, their bodies kept brushing against each other.

He was so going to make Hermione pay for this.

Draco was fighting every fiber of his being to not simply turn and push Potter down the bloody stairs. This was so . . . bothersome! If not that he was certain Granger would never forgive him, he'd hex him on the spot.

And why did the prat keep bumbling into him!

Back inside the flat, Hermione was hearing no arguments from either of them as she pushed them into seats on opposite ends of her kitchen table. "There, you don't have to be anywhere near one another, okay?"

After a moment, neither of them spoke. Each grabbed a book in silence and started reading.

Letting out a sigh, Hermione rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers.

"Okay. Would either of you like a drink?"

"Yes, please," Harry said.

"Thought you'd never ask," Draco replied; neither man looked up from his reading.

With a nod, Hermione turned toward her cupboards. "Alcohol it is," she murmured.

"Oh, my God!" Hermione sat up, blinking a few times as she reread the passage. The print kept trying to drip off the page in front of her. "Look, look, here."

Harry rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes before he looked at her. Draco paused in running the tip of his tongue across his teeth—his gums felt fuzzy—to give her his attention.

She pouted, glancing from them to their books, and back. "Hey, you two weren't even reading, were you?"

"Of course, we were," Draco said, though he did spare a moment to peek into his glass—he seemed rather confused to find it empty, again.

"Yeah." Harry nodded, waving dismissively in Malfoy's direction. "Like the Slytherin says. So, what'd you find?"

Hermione found the slurring of Harry's S's too amusing to point out that he was clearly drunk. "Well," she said, sparing a moment to reach over and tug the empty glass from Draco's hand and replace it with her own—still with a few sips left. "There's a spell here that can reverse infertility. It fell out of favor shortly before the Statute of Secrecy was declared."

Draco seemed satisfied with the trade, nodding as he lifted the glass to his lips.

"Why'd it fall out of . . . whatever it was you just said?"

She snickered. "You're cute when you're pissed, Draco."

The pale-haired wizard beamed as he polished off her drink.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He was pretty sure he wanted punch the other man . . . if he cared to get out of his seat, right now. Which he did not!

"Doesn't say; the Ministry of that era locked away a lot of things, apparently. Anyway, if we do this, it should give a boost to the magic passed on through pregnancy, reducing the number of Squib births . . . . That would do away with the need for the marriage law!"

Hermione was so excited, it was nearly enough to sober her up! Well, yeah, nearly. Though, she distantly thought it was no wonder it had taken her weeks to find this book—it was cracked and disused, tucked way in the back of a cobwebbed shelf in a seemingly forgotten nook of the Black family library.

She wondered if Harry would be pleased or irritated that he'd had the answer in his shelves at Grimmauld Place the entire time.

Grinning triumphantly—and a bit lopsided on account of the alcohol—Hermione set the book in the center of the table, so they could all see the incantation.

"Ready?" she asked, pleased when they both nodded. Yes, sure, she still wanted to be with both of them, but they could deal with that later.

Drawing their wands, they each exhaled slowly, focusing, despite their current intoxication.

As they recited the chant from the book, multi-colored sparks leapt from their wands. She blinked a few times, but before she could check if that was supposed to happen, Draco and Harry were chanting again.

Again sparks flew, brighter than before.

Forcing a gulp, she decided her trepidation was probably due to the conversation with Luna and Cho, and her own confused feelings. She joined them for the third round of chanting.

On the fourth, the sparks floating in the air came together, darkening to a swirl of unappetizing hues before erupting in a flash of light that knocked them all backward.

"What the hell?" Harry asked as he scrambled to his feet. "You two okay?"

"Yeah," Draco said, shaking his head, though he was not as quick to stand.

"Granger?"

"I'm okay," she replied, swallowing hard. "But, what the bloody hell is that?"

Draco and Harry both followed her gaze. Hovering over the table, where the sparks had converged, was a dark cloud. Thick and inky-black, it was intersected with bright lines, angry and violent.

After a moment, the shape let out an angry rumble and then dissipated before their eyes.

"I don't understand," she said, shaking her head. "And you know I don't like it when I can't understand things."

Finally, Draco stood, offering Hermione a hand up. "I heard about this once. It means the circumstance we're trying to correct can't be corrected."

Frowning, Hermione returned her attention to the book. "But it says right here the spell circumvents all known natural causes for infertility."

"I get it," Harry said after a moment of silence, nodding. She'd get it in a moment, he knew, but he also knew her current inability to think clearly was probably driving her mad. "It's not a natural cause."

"A curse, then?" Hermione felt her heart tumble into her stomach as her gaze traced the spot where the dark cloud had been. "Someone cursed the pure-bloods?"

"I can't even . . . . Who would . . . ?" Draco shook his head, confusion clear in his expression as he tried to think of anything to say.

Giving up, he stomped to counter where Granger had left what was probably the third bottle of Fire Whiskey she'd opened for them. He grabbed the nearly-full bottle by its neck and nodded toward the living room.

"I'm 'bout go drink 'til this makes sense. Who's with me?"

With a shrug and a nod, each, Hermione and Harry both followed him across the flat.