This is another story I wrote instead of working on Chessboard or Death Note...I know, I know. The evil plotbunnies get inspired though, and Harp over on Gaia decided to bury this into my brain. This is fer chu Harp!

Hermione took in a deep breath of the cold, crisp air. Gazing out at the Paris city lights below her, she barely noticed the winter wind beating at her. The war had ended, and in the end she had lost Ron. She shook her head briefly in an attempt to beat down the grief at losing her friend. They had tried a brief coupling, but couldn't get over their differences. Or, at least, that's what she had told him. The truth was she couldn't get Loony Luna Lovegood out of her mind. For some reason, the bizarre blonde had taken root permanently in the back of Hermione's head.

She gripped the item in her hand tighter, and took in another deeper, yet shaky, breath. A note, so childishly written, to Luna explaining her feelings. She glanced down at the folded paper, and snorted. Luna would never believe Hermione to be serious, and would take the note as an attempt to make fun of her. Hermione tucked her wild hair behind her ear.

"Makes a lot of sense, I fall for the girl who would believe in a Crumple-Horned Snorkack than in my feelings for her," she muttered miserably.

The wind blew hard again, this time Hermione felt the chill to the bone. She sighed and stepped away from the railing of the Eiffel Tower, and made her way back to the elevator. She thrust her hands into her coat pocket, and found comfort in the hard wood of her wand in her right pocket. Voldemort might have been defeated, but the Ministry had not rounded up every single Death Eater. Hermione knew altogether that being unprepared was like wearing a neon sign that read, 'Attack Me.'

Her feet carried her down the crowded sidewalk, but she had no destination in her mind. She glanced briefly into the windows as she passed, but kept walking. A nasty gust of wind cut through her coat and chilled her to the bone again. She winced when she tried to breathe in the cold air, and finally ducked into a semi-crowded café. She asked for a cup of hot chocolate, in perfect French, and briefly sorted through her bag for Muggle money.

Finding a secluded corner she sat, and hugged the mug of hot beverage with her icy hands. Wearing gloves would have been a smarter thing to do, but she hadn't thought of that before leaving her hotel room. Gryffindor courage forgotten, she brought the note out of her pocket once more and glared at it before ripping it in half. She continued to rip it into shreds and didn't notice the sound of a chair sliding against the tile as someone sat across from her.

"Fancy seeing you here," Luna's soft voice was cheerful.

Hermione gaped at her in disbelief, pieces of the note spread before her. She blushed hard and gathered them up as quickly as she could. "You're the last person I'd expect to see here."

"Oh, my father and I are vacationing. Trying to relax after everything, I suppose. Why are you here?" She tucked a piece of blonde hair behind her ear, revealing a radish earring.

Hermione smirked and took a sip of the hot drink, "Same thing, actually. How is your father? Quibbler still selling well?"

Luna nodded and smiled, "Yes, someone actually sent in a picture of what we all believe to be proof of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!"

Hermione choked and her throat burned, "Are y-you serious?"

Luna handed her a napkin, "Yes. Oh, is Harry with you?"

Hermione arched an eyebrow, "No, why would he be?"

Luna lowered her gaze and shrugged, "I assumed you two were dating."

"Dating?" Hermione burst out laughing and Luna flushed at the sound.

"Well, no one's seen him or you for a bit. Everyone's assumed that's what's happening."

"No, Harry and I are not dating. He's most definitely not my type." Hermione's eyes darted back to her drink and wanted so badly to add, 'you are.'

Luna played with her paperclip bracelet, "Who is then?"

Hermione blushed again and stayed silent for a long time. The two remained there, Luna eyeing Hermione quizzically and Hermione firmly avoiding her gaze.

"Are you a lesbian?" Luna's tone was the same as if she'd asked Hermione for the time.

Hermione's eyes shot up at once and she stared into the blue depths of Luna's. She blinked a few times, and then shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"I don't know…I have feelings for someone of the same sex, yes, but they don't know it…"she trailed off.

Luna grabbed her hand suddenly and a jolt went through Hermione's body. Luna squeezed it hard and grinned at her.

"I wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw because of my good looks."

Luna tugged her hand and before Hermione knew what was going on, they were running through the streets of Paris. Hermione laughed and felt the weight on her shoulders fly away. This was how things were supposed to feel and this was who she was supposed to feel them with. They skidded to a stop in a park, the snow falling thicker down around them. The Eiffel Tower stood in the difference and Hermione marveled at how a few hours time in Paris had changed her.

Luna wrapped an arm around her waist, and Hermione relaxed against the warm body. Luna rested her head on Hermione's shoulder, but turned her face upwards to whisper in her ear.

"They say true love can always be found in Paris, if one is not too scared to find it."

Hermione turned to her, brushing her fingers against Luna's cold cheek. Luna inched closer, her eyes reflecting the trust she was feeling. Overwhelmed by emotions, they met in a blur of lips, hands, and tongues. A bit of timid apprehension melted away to passion, and Hermione had never felt so complete.

An old couple passed by, and the wife pointed the two girls out to her husband. He leaned over and whispered to her, "The magic of Paris is not a force to be denied."