[ Luna was never an athlete, so she's having to half-scurry in order to keep up with him with little half-skipping strides, but she doesn't seem to mind. It's a steep and winding path along the edge of town, teetering at the top of the cliffs; there's always the sense that you might take the wrong step and plummet into the ocean below, but she's done this walk every morning and night, and so she's comfortable with it. She doesn't really know where she's leading them, except that it'll descend to the beach eventually and they've got a nice view and somewhere along the way, there might be a creperie, or her bed-and-breakfast, and they'll make up their minds as they go.

At Charlie's declaration, she snorts a laugh. ]

Only if I don't beat you to it. We have a sacred pact that if she ever had enough of boys and their nonsense, she should ring me up.

[ Is she joking? Maybe. It's hard to tell. The two girls hadn't gotten along at first, back in the day — Hermione's prim, straightlaced love of order versus Luna's affable chaos — but they'd clicked in the end. War and adversity had a way of searing away the surface and boiling everyone down to their essence, and you found out what really mattered. They'd finally understood each other, then. ]