‘Largo’
The afternoon is bright, and only a few clouds can be seen on the horizon from the Hogwarts grounds. It is a calm Sunday afternoon, barely a week since all the students returned to school. This early in the year there are no pressing homework assignments to be completed or exams looming - there is just the pleasant sun and hours yet before everyone is back in their classrooms.
The Gryffindor common room is one of many relaxed enclaves today. Two third-year girls talk rapidly to each other and occasionally burst into fits of giggles, but they are bothering nobody. Ginny Weasley sits on her own, a dog-eared textbook on her lap and a length of parchment held to one side, checking her assignment for mistakes. Dean Thomas is in a corner of the room with one foot propped on a table to support the piece of parchment he is sketching on; he thinks he is being secretive, but his subject noticed a long time ago, and occasionally her glance stops on him while travelling between textbook and parchment, and she smiles.
Harry and Hermione are engaged in a game of chess. It is Hermione’s move, and she drums her fingers on the side of the board as she thinks. Harry is sat back in his chair; Hermione sits forward on a footstool, and from behind her on another chair Ron is watching. He leans down to say something in a mixture of a whisper and a murmur in Hermione’s ear, and then sits back. The concentration flares in Hermione’s face, and then she moves her knight to a spot off to the side of the board. Several games have progressed in this manner today - earlier Ron had been trying to describe moves in round-about ways which had ended up giving more information to Harry than Hermione, but now Ron is just suggesting moves when it looks like she is stuck.
Harry contemplates his move. The game is at a stage where only pawns have been taken, but soon the capital pieces will be captured. He moves his rook along the back row, shoring up his defences. Hermione then takes action; her knight leaps to the centre of the board, threatening two of his pieces (one the queen) while safely under the protection of her bishop.
Harry laughs, and says, "This isn’t fair, you know. I can’t beat the both of you."
Ron puffs his chest out a little. "You knew what you were getting into, mate, going up against a champion like me and all."
Harry says, "I think I’m done with chess for today."
"No, finish this game at least," Hermione protests, "and then we can do something else."
Harry suggests, "You can keep playing, Ron can take over for me. Maybe he can dig himself out of the mess I’m in now."
"Fat chance," Ron tells Harry, but there is good humour in his voice.
Hermione considers this for a moment, and then agrees. While Ron switches seats, she asks Harry, "So what will you do now?"
Harry says, "I’m not sure. Go for a walk or something," and the expression that blooms on Hermione’s face could seem to an outsider like it belongs with a more exciting reaction. To Harry, her knowing smile is like a key, a secret handshake that he only has the faintest recognition of consciously.
Ron, having studied the board position Harry has left him long enough, says, "You know why this happens all the time? It’s because you only focus on one part of the board. You need to broaden your view." He delivers this last part imitating Professor Trelawney, complete with a flourish of hands.
Harry says, "I’ll try to keep that in mind for next time," and has to fight a little to quash the smirk that wants to appear on his face.
"Enjoy your walk, Harry," says Hermione.
"Enjoy the rest of your game," he replies.
Before leaving through the back of the Fat Lady’s portrait, Harry asks Dean if he can borrow some parchment.
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Harry does go for a walk - it is just very short, and takes him directly to the library. Ginny may be able to concentrate on her schoolwork (and other things) with distractions around, but she grew up with six older brothers; Harry, on the other hand, is used to living invisibly. He is not a solitary person by nature, but neither is he uncomfortable with being on his own. Sometimes being alone is preferable, however - like now.
The library is practically deserted - even the most studious of students have found other places to be this afternoon. Harry sits alone at a large desk, writing. He has been here a while - long enough to have covered both sides of one length of parchment with his handwriting and moved on to a second piece. When he writes an essay for a teacher, he has to consider each sentence - even if only for a second - and the fact it is about to contain. Not so now - now he is almost letting his thoughts flow right off the tip of his quill. Harry would have not considered himself a letter-writer by nature, either, but he has had practise over the summer.
He signs his name at the bottom of the page, and digs in his pocket to retrieve his wand. There are a couple of left-over pieces of parchment; one becomes transfigured into an envelope. Harry hasn’t managed one complete with a wax seal yet, but at least now he can get them to fold shut. The ink has dried on his letter, and he folds it in thirds and slips it in the envelope.
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It is later than he thought it would be - the sun has dipped low, the pleasant Sunday afternoon almost completely gone. As Harry enters the owlery, he is thinking about Hedwig: if she would be out flying yet, and if so, would she be huffy later if he had one of the school owls drop his letter off instead? It comes as quite a surprise to him, then, to hear his name while he looks around for his snowy white owl. It is Luna; she has been sitting in one of the owlery’s large stone windows. A brightly-coloured quill sits behind her ear where her wand normally would, and she too has in her hand some parchment. She hops down from the window, and Harry meets her about halfway on the owlery floor. There is a slightly awkward silence between them, but it is pleasant and comfortable too, like the afternoon has been.
"I was writing a letter," Luna confesses, "but you came to it instead of it coming to you. Normally that’s not how letters work."
Harry says, "It mustn’t have wanted to trouble some poor owl."
Luna nods solemnly. "That must be it."
He hands her his envelope, and Luna places it carefully in her pocket. She then is about to reciprocate, but looks momentarily crestfallen. "Oh. I don’t have an envelope for mine."
Harry feels the words It doesn’t matter rise up to his mouth, but he stills them in favour of something better. He takes one of his spare pieces of parchment and his wand from his pocket, and without hesitation transfigures the parchment into an envelope, and hands this too to Luna. She smiles, and stands up on her toes to kiss Harry on the cheek.
"Thank you," she says.
"S’okay," he replies, and he watches her address the envelope to Harry Potter, The Owlery, Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry before she hands it to him.
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Back in the common room, Ron and Hermione are still playing chess. Harry can tell it is a new game now, as Hermione has switched to white. She catches his eye as he approaches them, and her smile looks almost as broad as his own while he was walking back to Gryffindor Tower.
Ron moves one of his pieces, and lifts his eyes from the board to turn to Harry. "Good walk?" he asks.
Harry replies, "Yeah. Yeah, it was."