Chapter 1: Called

  Dim lamps flickered in brass wall sconces, casting a sallow light on dusty shelves sagging with obscure books.

  “May I have your attention. For those without authorization, the library is closing,” a thin voice called out. She glanced away from her crumbling tome to Dr. Lacewing scribbling away, oblivious to the announcement.

  Hermione gathered her scrolls and pens, a tight knot in her chest.

  They can’t just get away with this!

  She cast a forlorn glance at the book before doubling back to pick up the filled water bottle.

  “See you tomorrow?” Hestia said cheerily. “7 AM meeting with the Minister!”

  Hermione's heart dropped. As if I have a choice. He’s the last one I want to see!

  In silence, she stuffed everything into her pack and hurried out. She didn’t notice Flavian packing his books, his dark eyes following her.

  There was little reprieve in the evening twilight. Unseasonably warm, the dry wind flicked dust into her eyes. Her robes felt oppressive.

  “Are you crying?” Ron asked. She’d forgotten he said he’d wait for her.

  She was in no mood. “Yes, Ron, I’m balling my eyes out,” she said flatly.

  “Baby, I’m here for you.” He wrapped his arm around her waist.

  “Why did the Ministry permit their retrograde policies? I’m just as good as any of them! We fought against all that!”

  Ron hugged her tighter. “I understand dear, but this is a provincial rights thing. They have their traditions.”

  She stopped, pulled away. Scowled. “Provincial rights? Traditions? What year is this, 1452? Are you their chief propagandist now? You actually think it’s okay?” Her seething bitterness made him backtrack.

  “No, er, no. But honey, you really shouldn’t be working this late and who cares, it’s only open for another hour anyway. Is it really worth it?” Ron was hungry and tired too and just wanted something to eat.

  Hermione’s face twisted into a grimace. “Who cares? I care! And yes, as a fully qualified muggle woman, it’s totally worth it. Unless you think otherwise?”

  “Oh honey, I’m sorry,” Ron said. “Of course I care. But come on. Let’s go get something to eat, and maybe some…” he stepped forward and pinched her bottom.

  She unceremoniously slapped his hand away, exhaled sharply. “Typical man! None of this affects you! Always thinking of his….and stomach!”

  “Look, I’m sorry-“ Hermione sighed. “No, I’m sorry. You really just wasted your time waiting for me. I’m in a foul mood and you’re not helping.”

  Ron’s hurt registered, but she had no patience for his wounded ego.

  His face darkened. “Well then, if that’s how it’s going to be…” he pulled away and marched off.

  Much to her own surprise, Hermione hoped he’d turn back and take her up on dinner. She hadn’t had much of anything all day. He just kept walking.

  Well then!

  There was only one place to go. I’d be damned to show my face there now. Where’s Harry and Ginny?

  She passed the 3 Broomsticks and kept going.

  Halfway to Hogwarts, she found Luna Lovegood sitting in the gloom, nibbling on something. She sat cross legged on the ground, wearing a worn, thin dress, drawing in the dirt with a stick.

  “Luna?”

  “Brassicas work wonders for mental acuity,” she began, shifting where she sat, then held out a blood-red radish with several bitemarks to Hermione. It was just a flash of pale thigh and something more: Luna was going full commando!

  Hermione’s breath caught. “Oh, uh…” What is she doing out here, at night, like that?

  “It’s overrated,” Luna continued, taking another bite, resuming her dirt sketch. “Confining. I prefer an open aspect.”

  “But Luna, you’re alone, out here, at night, what if someone sees you-”

  “Oh, I doubt that.” She shook her head gravely. “Nobody sees me. And besides, if they did, I’m quite intimidating,” taking another crunchy bite of the radish, looked up, her face twisting into a deranged smile.

  Hermione chuckled.

  “Ron is being an ass again, isn’t he?” Luna’s face pale in the dim light. She stood up, dropped the stick and held out her hand. “Let’s go for a walk.” Even in the gloom, Hermione could see Luna’s dress clinging to her body in revealing places.

  “You wore that to work today?” Hermione asked guardedly.

  “Of course. I was getting tired of all the scripted nonsense so went looking for nargles.”

  Hermione admired her chutzpah. “But your duty-”

  “My duty is to myself and the universe,” Luna said, making an expansive gesture. “I’m free!”

  They walked in silence.

  “You really should try it,” Luna said.

  “Too spicy.”

  Luna frowned. “Really? But it’s only natural. Wrapping up your womanly parts with tight fabric is so…barbaric!”

  Hermione laughed. “Oh no, Luna, I thought you meant…the radish!”

  They both laughed.. Luna produced another from her pocket.

  “Here. I can tell you’re hungry. They’re not what you think.” Hermione took the offered vegetable and took a bite. Juicy, slightly sweet, a faint suggestion of heat.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “You’re right,” she chewed. “Where did you get these?”

  Luna produced another and took a bite. “The carriage stables dungheap,” Luna said enthusiastically. “The warmth of its decomposition lets me harvest them all winter.”

  Hermione suddenly felt her gag reflex kick in. “Uhh-”

  “Don’t worry, I washed that one.”

  “That one? You didn’t wash the others?”

  Luna shook her head. “Natural probiotics.”

  “Oh Luna!” Hermione finished the radish. On her empty stomach, it tasted like ambrosia.

  “Care for another?” Luna pulled out one from her pocket.

  Did she wash just the one? “Oh, thank you Luna, er, no thank you.”

  The Forbidden Forest loomed ahead. “Luna, where are we-”

  Luna stopped suddenly, raised her arms, as if in greeting.

  “What are we doing here?” Hermione whispered.

  Luna turned to her with a beaming smile. “Just breathe in that air! Hear the creaking trees? See the whirling stars above? Let’s just sit here, together, and forget about everything.”

  “But, the Guardians,” Hermione said nervously. “We shouldn’t be here-”

  Luna shook her head. “The Guardians? They’d understand.” Hermione wasn’t so sure. Luna laid back in the tall grasses, Hermione joining her, gazing up into the heavens.

  Hermione felt her body relax, her mind, then heart, wander.

  “The Guardians are one with the energy of the universe,” Luna said softly. “They know each star by name, each flower blade of grass, each flower petal, each grain of sand. They all have names. Each hair on our heads, and…elsewhere.”

  Hermione didn’t notice Luna’s subtle change of position, her hand moving deliberately, her slow exhale.

  “Really? They know all that?”

  “Oh…yes,” Luna said breathily. “They…are one…with all…” Luna’s words came haltingly, her breath hitching slightly. Hermione turned her head, then blanched.

  Luna’s right hand disappeared beneath her skirt, with a rhythmic wet sound mixing with the crickets. She shifted her hips, legs apart, her breath coming in ragged, soft gasps.

  “Luna?” Hermione’s words were louder than she intended.

  “The uni-uhh-verse’s ener-ahh-gy, Hermione, can’t you - oohh - it’s so…close.” She could hardly string two words together.

  Hermione felt a sharp pang of bewilderment, shame, and…envy? How could Luna do this, right now of all places! She stared up into the night sky, the stars suddenly too close, too hot. The sounds of Luna were too much, her breath, her shifting body, flesh on flesh.

  “The flow…ahh…it’s every-uhhh-where…oh Hermione, uhhh…”

  The wind gently blew the grasses and to add to Hermione’s shock, she caught the musky, earthly-sweet odor which she knew all too well from her own furtive experiences in the late hours, under the sheets, trying to hide her own needs…

  “So…connected…uhhh,” Luna went on. Hermione sat amazed at Luna’s brazen actions, something she could never do. She would go fast, as if to try to stay ahead of the chasing guilt she could never outrun, the crushing shame of having given in to her weakness. But here, Luna, so open, under the stars, unashamed, revelling in herself and the universe. Why couldn’t she be like that? She felt a hot pang of anger.

  She wanted to just stand up and leave, but the proximity of the Forest and their open exposure gave her pause. Maybe she feels comfortable with me here, for protection. Maybe that’s why she’s doing it? The thought helped temper her anger but still, How could she just get away with this?

  Luna reached out. “Take my hand,” she said with sudden urgency. Luna was teetering on a vast precipice, seeking someone to steady her. Hermione scooted closer and clasped her hand around Luna’s hot and sweaty palm. Luna gripped her firmly, then resumed.

  “Oh, Hermione,” Luna said breathlessly. “Can you…uhh..feel it?” Luna worked furiously, the liquid sounds and the smell of her desire driving Hermione to a new state of histrionics.

  “Luna, I-”

  Then, without warning, Luna said something unintelligible in a high-pitched voice, gripping Hermione’s hand. She let out a choking groan as if injured, her other hand slowing, her body convulsing. Hermione felt Luna's sweaty grip shake, her fingernails digging into her palm.

  The soft chirp of crickets blended with Luna’s quieting breaths, her body visibly relaxing. Hermione, meanwhile, felt a heightening tension.

  “Thank you,” Luna said quietly, releasing Hermione’s hand, her other one still buried under a crumpled dress.

  “Luna, this was-”

  “Perfect,” Luna said, beaming. “I wanted you to feel the energy, the flow. It’s everywhere.”

  “But Luna, how can you just do this? Out here, so close to the Forest, at night-” Hermione was dumbfounded.

  “I had you with me.” Luna smiled sweetly.

  “But Luna-”

  “I wish you would just let go and feel the connections. They are…everywhere!” Luna withdrew her hand from between her legs and pulled apart a thin strand of mucous between her finger and thumb, gazing intently at it in the gloom.

  “Luna, what are you-”

  “It’s an almost magical elixir,” Luna interjected, her tone reverent and dreamy. She held her fingers up as if presenting a precious artifact, the strand glistening in the starlight.. “This... this bestows longevity and resilience to male seed, guiding it towards destiny. Like wisdom!” Her face nearly glowed with awe. “And to think such liquid wisdom is literally inside us. Imagine the possibilities!”

  Hermione stared, her mouth opening and closing without a sound, Luna’s sincere intensity leaving her without words. The strand broke, Luna’s face fell. “So fragile a magic,” Luna whispered. “And yet, so powerful.”

  Hermione’s face burned. A rustling from the Forbidden startled them. A large shadow hesitantly emerged from the edge. It moved with a measured grace and power. Hermione, already a ball of nerves, jumped up, fumbled for her wand, felt her stomach twist.

  Luna reached out and grabbed her wrist. “It’s not going to hurt us.”

  “Luna, how can you be so-”

  The figure stopped, hidden in shadow.

  Luna took a step forward. “Hello, my friend,” Luna called out softly. “What brings you out tonight?”

  The figure seemed unsettled by her words, the sound of hooves stamping in the dry leaves and said something in reply.

  “A Guardian!” Hermione exclaimed with alarm.

  “Greetings, oh wise one,” Luna continued, walking towards it. “What a brilliant evening to make your acquaintance!”

  A low, sonorous voice spoke. “Oh human girl, please come no further.” It sounded weary.

  Luna stopped. “We mean no harm, oh Great One.”

  “Do not call me great,” it replied. “If I were great, I would not be here, drawn, summoned.”

  “But we did not cast any spells,” Luna said softly.

  “I could smell your desire for miles. You and your companion are magic enough,” the voice continued. “I have not the strength to resist you.”

  “Resist?” Luna said.

  “You do not understand,” he said, then took a step backwards, his words strained. “This should not be. I do not understand myself. Yet here I am.”

  “What is your name, oh Guardian?” Luna asked. “I am Luna Lovegood.”

  The centaur shifted uncomfortably in the bracken. “My name I do not give lightly, but as I have already risked too much this night, I will give that too. Gelien Wolfsbane. I ask that you do not repeat it. My perverse proclivities are already suspected and this night would no doubt be brought against me.”

  “Proclivities? Gelien, sir, you appear tortured. How can we help?”

  Gelien laughed low. “Human girl, you cannot help those who are beyond help. It is enough.”

  He stepped back and, in a burst, bolted away, the thunder of his hooves blending into the soft murmurs of the night.