Zodiac Lullaby

Luna sighed. How could it be that someone as smart as Hermione could be so oblivious? This wasn't crop circles or aliens, this was something here and now, how could she deny this?

The two of them were meant to be. It was written in the stars for Merlin's sake! They would be as perfect a couple as the abdominal snowman and the Dali Lama. (Though, Luna would have to admit they'd still have better Christmas cards.)

Luna tried subtly, a brush of the hand, that special look, and even a couple Mormon goat charms. Nothing worked. "Pitiful," she thought to herself. Thick as a ministry approved cauldron bottom, that Hermione is.

Tonight was the night; the night Hermione would be hers, like Prince Charles and the Pope. Luna smiled. NO one could resist a low-cut dress with the right perfume. Unless of course, Luna thought to herself: What if Hermione was straight?

Luna sat on her head; mindful not to tear her tight read dress. Hermione as a heterosexual, she thought to herself that could be a problem, maybe even the problem. But then, she thought to herself, Hermione can't be straight, for Merlin's sake, she doesn't even properly enjoy a shoe sale.

Crisis narrowly averted, she quickly charmed the wireless to play the latest weird sister's single, "Queerly Yours in Paradise." Next came the candles, and soon only a pair of flickering flames lighted the entire place. All that was missing was Hermione.

Luna stared at her watch for what seemed like (and later turned out to be) hours. Her roommate didn't seem to want to come home.

Quickly, Luna checked Hermione's bedroom, the one at the end of the hall. She wasn't there, but there was a scrap of parchment on the roll away desk. A poem was written on it in hurried ink, as if in a moment of great passion. It read as follows: I love her so. She has to know. I've got to go, And tell her so.

Luna sighed. What more proof could one ask for that books weren't everything, that poetry was horrible? But still. it did show Hermione liked girls, one in particular.

The candles burned short as Luna waited, long into the night. The fates, she presumed, were against her. "Self righteous bitches, them fates," Luna mumbled to herself. "They think they're so great."

~*~Later That Night~*~

"I love you so much," she gasped out, kissing her beloved deeply.

"I love you more, baby, I love you more." Searching for the key, she found it, and after a few tries, managed to get it into the lock. Opening the door, the pair nearly tumbled to the round, and would've had they not clung to each other so. Somehow, they made it to the bed, and continued as before.


Ginny searched for her jeans. They had to be somewhere. ah, there. "Now how did those get up there?" she thought to herself aloud. Pants on the ceiling fan are generally not a good sign, unless of course, they make you think of how they got there.

Ginny turned to face the bed, where her dark haired lover struggled to open her eyes. "Morning beautiful," she said, finally managing to wake herself.

"Good morning, gorgeous," Ginny whispered back. "So. are you going to get out of bed anytime soon?"

"Actually, I was rather hoping you'd join me."



Where was she? How could this be? Goddamned fates, Luna thought to herself. Speaking of which, she thought, noting the owl carrying today's Quibbler, she turned to page 7.

Today's horoscope, of course, was different than the day before's. While the previous day had praised the union of faith and skeptism, this one read as follows: "If that special someone seems to good to be true, they probably won't shag you."

Luna sighed and glanced out the window. So much for that girl. "Well hello angel, which way to heaven." she mumbled to herself, noting Lavender Brown. Dear God does that woman look good in blue, she mumbled before running out the door to follow her.