Chapter Text
The morning sun had barely cleared the tops of the London townhouses when the tapping began. Hermione paused, her coffee mug hovering inches from her lips. Sitting at her small kitchen table, surrounded by towering stacks of Ministry briefs and half-read text analysis on creature rights, she looked toward the window.
Perched on the sill was a majestic, slightly dishevelled grey owl, who was tapping its beak impatiently against the glass, a thick parchment envelope clutched tightly in its talons. With a soft sigh that was more affectionate than annoyed, Hermione set her mud down and crossed the room. “Alright, alright, absolute urgency, I see,” she murmured, unlatching the window. The owl swept in, presenting its leg with a click of its beak, demanding a treat from the pouch. Hermione offered it a dried owl treat and smiled as she began to unwrap the heavy letter.
It was a gorgeous envelope, a soft, textured safe green, sealed with a dollop of pearlescent, shimmering wax stamped with the image of a hare and what she thought looked suspiciously like a crumpled horn. She smiled, it had to be Luna of course.
The moment the parchment unfolded, the quiet of her kitchen was broken by a soft, harmonious hum. A dozen tiny, vibrant Marsh Fritillary and Monarch butterflies burst from the page, shimmering and iridescent in the sunlight. Hermione watched as they fluttered into the air, dancing in a joyful loop around her head, one stopped to sit amongst her wild curls before they disappeared with a faint trail of silver stardust left behind. Laughter bubbled up in her chest, it was so classically Luna, pure, delightful magic.
She looked down at the elegant, looping calligraphy inside:
You are warmly invited to celebrate the union of Luna Lovegood & Theodore Nott As the sun reaches its highest peak and the earth is drunk on light, Join us for midsummer magic on the Summer Solstice.
Hermione’s breath hitched slightly, and her eyes filled with tears of joy for her friend. The pairing had been a surprise at first, but word of their romance had travelled through their shifting social circles over the last year. Luna had been travelling since she left Hogwarts, her adventures taking her across the world in search of rare and unique creatures, but no one had expected her to catch herself a Slytherin.
Hermione thought back to when Luna had introduced Theo to her, Harry and Ginny. They had both been shy, Theo more reserved than she had expected but the war had changed them all and Theo was a much softer version of the brash boy she remembered from Hogwarts. A wedding on the solstice meant a gathering and a massive one at that. But if Thedore Nott was the groom…
Hermione slowly sank back into her kitchen chair, if Theo was getting married then the guest list was going to be a minefield of Slytherin Elite. She stared at the golden lettering, her heart beating fast against her chest at the thought of the one person she never wanted to see again. Draco Malfoy would be attending this wedding.
Hermione stared at the invitation for a moment longer before shaking herself out of a daze. Retreiving her vine wand from the counter, and with a practiced flick, she tapped the gold calligraphy at the bottom of the parchment. A tiny spark of silver light flared from the tip of her wand, sinking into the paper. The gold ink glowed warmly in response, absorbing her magical signature to log her acceptance.
She had just reached for her now, mostly likely freezing cold coffee when the tapping sounded at the window again. Popular today she thought to herself, but smirked when she saw the same grey owl sitting back with a somewhat annoyed look on its face. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hermione said as she gestured for the Owl to come inside.
She unrolled the note. The ink was fresh, the handwriting distinctly untidy compared to the formal invitation:Hermione, The magic on your acceptance felt exceptionally warm! I happen to be just over the rooftops in Diagon Alley. May I pop by via the Floo in five minutes? I have a question that requires your specific brand of brilliant thinking. Love, Luna
Before Hermione could even reach for the Floo powder to clear the grate, the flames in her hearth flared a vibrant, roaring green. Out stepped Luna Lovegood, looking like a summers day, a bright sunflower yellow robe patterned with dancing beetles, her silver blonde hair pinned up with what appeared to be actual twigs, and her Dirigible plum earrings swaying in her ears. "Oh, good, you're dressed," Luna said serenely, stepping gracefully onto the rug without a single speck of soot on her.
"Though your aura is a rather tense shade of magenta this morning, Hermione. Are the Ministry wrinkles getting to you?" "Luna," Hermione said, a fond smile breaking through her lingering anxiety as she stepped forward to hug her friend. "Congratulations. The invitation is absolutely beautiful." "Thank you. T
heo grew the butterflies himself," Luna said, beaming as she took a seat at the small kitchen table, completely unbothered by the stacks of parchment. She looked up at Hermione with those wide, unblinking silvery eyes. "Which brings me to why I'm here. I need someone holding my bouquet who can handle unexpected magical surges, rogue Wrackspurts, and Theo's friends. Will you be my bridesmaid?"
Hermione’s heart softened instantly. “Luna, I would be honoured, truly.” Then, trying to sound entirely casual as she leaned against the counter, she added, “And, who else is in the wedding part, does Theo have a best man yet?”
Luna offered a dreamy, knowing smile that made Hermione feel entirely transparent. “Draco, of course. Theo says he’s the only one who can keep the Slytherin seating arranging from turning into a minor civil war,” A heavy knot formed in the pit of Hermione’s stomach. She shouldn’t be surprised, and she wasn’t really, she had known the answer before she even asked. Draco and Theo had been inseparable since the trials. Yet, the confirmation sent a sharp wave of anxiety straight to her chest.
“Draco,” Hermione repeated, her voice a little tighter than she intended. “Right, well, that should make the rehearsals interesting shouldn’t it.” Luna’s eyes drifted toward the window, watching a stray sunbeam cut through the kitchen air. “Oh yes, it will be. Draco has a surprisingly keen eye for table linens, though he keeps trying to insist everything is green or silver. But we all know the only option is yellow for the summer.”
Hermione forced a small, polite laugh, although the idea of Draco Malfoy having any opinion about table linens and wedding colours seemed preposterous to her. “Well it’s your wedding Luna, so if you want yellow, then we will make sure you get it.”
"We are having a dress fitting later this week, on Thursday evening," Luna continued, turning her serene gaze back to Hermione. "And afterward, a small gathering to go through some traditional wizarding pre-wedding rituals. Theo and I want to honour the old magic of the solstice, but with no female head of our houses to guide us through the hearth-binding blueprints…”,
Hermione recognised the sadness in Luna’s voice, so many of them without a female figure in their lives now. She crossed the kitchen to place a supportive hand on her shoulder. “I can do plenty of research or use some ministry contacts to find out more if you need Luna,”
“oh that’s not necessary, Narcissa has been very kind in offering her time,” Luna added, her tone brightening. “She’s been wonderful really, she understands all the ancient rites perfectly, and well she knew my mother you know so that’s quite nice. They were friends did you know?”
Hermione blinked, genuinely caught off guard. Narcissa Malfoy. The world had truly spun on its axis, the last she had heard Narcissa had left England for the French Chateau. “I didn’t know, but that’s lovely Luna and of course I’ll be free on Thursday.”
Hermione waved Luna goodbye as she stepped into the Floo, whispering something about a rose garden she wanted to visit. What an absolute turn of events this morning had been, but she glanced at the clock and realised she would be late to her morning meeting if she didn’t get moving. Time to think about the chaos a Lovegood Nott wedding was due to bring another time.