Seemingly Random

Luna sat cross-legged against the backboard of her four-poster, drapes were drawn tight against the glares of her fellow fourth-years. She sighed heavily and rocked around a bit to simulate a shift in sleeping position - if she could perpetuate the idea that she was fast asleep, it was possible that her possessions might actually start reappearing sometime soon. Pulling her wand from behind her ear, she tapped an intricate tattoo on the small moon pillow at her side, which was now quietly emanating light only from a slender fingernail crescent. With a final flourish and a tap on the nearly imperceptible Mare Imbrium, the surface of the pillow melted open to reveal a journal and a Quiet Quill. A localized orb of light continued to surround the journal, cleverly casting only enough light to read and write by.

Dear book,

I'm going home tomorrow. I can't wait to have pumpkin pasties on the train. I'm glad that I didn't die at the Ministry. Mum would have been proud. She liked Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans better than anything. We had a secret stash in a box above the sink. Dad will be glad to hear that he was right about the brains. HP and his friends are a rather exciting bunch.

She tapped the quill to her lips in thought, oblivious to the ink dripping on her raucous pink and green pajamas.

The Ministry was an interesting place. What a shame we were in such a hurry, what with saving HP's godfather (who died anyways) and fighting a band of angry Death Eaters. According to RW, the wizards who work in the Department of Mysteries are called Unspeakables. Maybe I can be an Unspeakable after my N.E.W.T. year... not many people speak to me anyways.

Just then, she heard a rustling noise at the foot of her bed, followed by the unmistakable sound of her trunk sliding open. Luna was not alarmed. It was likely one of her missing possessions creeping back into her trunk on it's own. She manufactured another sleepy grunt, sighing quietly at the sound of retreating footsteps. Giggles erupted as the dormitory door shut behind the visitor.

Waving her wand absently at the journal, the page turned, and began again.

Dear book,

We're going home tomorrow. Pumpkin pasties are my favorite. HP and his friends are a rather exciting bunch. RW is so funny and brave. For a second I thought that he understood me completely, but then I realized it was a spell that made him go all funny. But it was so... interesting... to be able to hold on to him and lead him out of danger, even though I was dragging GW along at the time.

A life-size lion head floated lazily over the top of her bed curtains and landed in front of her toes, distracting her momentarily from her writing. This time the laughter was louder, but before she could complete her obligatory "wha? huh? mmm...", the perpetrators had already run the length of the hardwood dormitory floor and slammed the door behind them. She wiggled enough to make the bed creak slightly for the benefit of her roommates and focused her attention on the task at hand.

I'm sorry that we didn't get to ride the thestrals back to Hogwarts. I wonder if they know where Dad and I could find the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, what with their awesome sense of direction and all. Professor Dumbledore does have a thing for exposing unpopular truths; maybe he won't mind if we borrow a couple from the school herd.

Mm, scratch that. Dad's afraid of heights. And he wouldn't be able to see the thestrals anyways. Not that that's ever stopped him from believing in properly-documented things before. Come to think of it,it would be pretty funny to see the same look of concentrated horror that RW wore the entire way to London. He is SO very interesting to look at.

Luna stopped writing long enough to notice that the room had gone eerily silent. Without a second thought, she pulled her comforter over her head just in time to deflect the contents of her pencil box as it flew through a seam in the drapes on a pair of tiny wings and dashed open on her headboard.

"mmph... ouch... gosh, what's this", she muttered patiently, trying to muster the appropriate feeling. There was, after all, no point in letting her visitor feel that her excellent transfiguration charm had been wasted. Grunting and snorting in what she hoped was not an overly theatrical manner, she made a mental note of the items still missing, and hoped that the heavier books would find a home for the night somewhere outside the drapes. Placing a comforting hand on the pencil box, whose wing looked badly bruised, she concentrated once again on her journal. After about an hour of recording her random thoughts and recollections about recent events, her tired mind began to churn out a stream of unanswerable questions.

If no one out there misses all of those prophecies we destroyed, what was the point of keeping them locked up? If there are so few true Seers, how were there so many prophecies? Were there any about me? What must it feel like to be HP? Why do fish and snails fight all the time? Why do I always feel like I'm being watched? What could possibly be the motivation behind the conspiracy against Harry HP? Why didn't Dumbledore just tell him what he needed to know? What happened to the truth?

Someone was standing next to her bed. Luna couldn't see whoever it was, but there was no denying that she was standing there nonetheless. Her usual composure suddenly cracked and in one swift motion, she pulled the drapes back violently, pointed her wand and bellowed, "Tarantallegra!"

To Luna's surprise, vicious stomping could be heard, but no one appeared to be there. A distinctly male voice muttered, "Of all the spells she could have remembered... Finite Incantatem!"

She reached a hand out into the dark and seeming thin air and met resistance... pleasantly solid resistance. Her heart rebelled against her ribcage, and for a moment, she dared to hope... "Ro... Harry?!"

Tired, emerald eyes framed by tousled dark hair appeared from out of nowhere, followed immediately by a Gryffindor scarf and dark, baggy pajamas. "Um, Hi there. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Were you sleeping?"

Regaining her self-control, Luna turned her large eyes back towards Harry's face and managed to form a complete sentence or two.

"Oh. No. Is someone in trouble again? I'll get my shoes."

Harry held out a small crown-shaped badge glowing softly in the darkness and mumbled, "No, no, it's just, well... I found this in the Gryffindor common room and I remembered that it was on your list of missing things. I thought the least that I could do was bring it back to you tonight myself."

Luna stretched her hand out to receive the badge and managed to say, "Oh, Thanks. So we're not going on another mission, then?" She could feel the blood racing wildly in her temples, even though this scenario was a far cry from the daydreams she'd been entertaining lately. Well, maybe the plot was the same, but the cast...

Harry shook his head and caught Luna's arm she as pulled it back. He leaned in closer and said, "No. But I also wanted to say thank you. For doing your best to take care of Ron and Ginny in the... in the... back at the Ministry. They are two of the most important people in my life and I don't know what I would do without either of them. Or what Mrs. Weasley would have done to me if anything had happened to them. You were brilliant back there. And I'm sorry that I waited until now to say this to you. So thank you. And have a good holiday."

Luna stood riveted to the spot, turning his words over in her mind.

He held on to her arm a little longer than he should have, but then, he probably didn't know what else to do with it. "Nice pajamas, too. Um, well, good night then."

Harry relinquished possession of her arm and covered himself with what appeared to be nothing, vanishing from sight. Luna continued to stand unmoving, watching the progress of the unaccompanied footsteps track back to the door and out of the dorm. She finally ripped her eyes from the door and made eye contact with a surprised face popping out from the drapes of the bed next door. "What are you looking at?" she asked airily, and the head disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. "No really, what are you looking at? I think he was using an Invisibility Cloak. Don't you? That would certainly explain a lot."

No answer was forthcoming, so she climbed resignedly back into bed and pulled the drapes shut behind her. Luna was beginning to feel very tired, but strangely, her heart was still beating faster than it should be. She pried open her tightly closed fist and pressed the badge into her journal.

Dear book,

HP and his friends are a rather exciting bunch. After four years of anonymity at best, I have finally had my chance to do something important. And the after tonight, I'm sure I will have more than my share of opportunities to repeat the process.

But Dad will still be glad to hear that he was right about the brains.

Luna laid her head on the cool pages of her journal and thought a little more about the sparkling green eyes that had just been not more than an arm's length from hers. She closed her eyes to try and retain the afterimage as long as possible, and finally slipped into a happy dream filled with moonlit picnics and mythical creatures. After twenty minutes of inactivity, her journal shifted back into pillow form and continued to emulate its larger counterpart outside the castle walls. The pencil box ran in small circles to get comfortable, and finally curled up in the crook of her arm, snuffling gently. Serenely smiling, Luna slept through the reappearance of her possessions one by one in the Ravenclaw common room, in piles on top of her trunk and around her bed, in the Great Hall, and oddly enough, in the trunk of one young Gryffindor, who couldn't bring himself to part with her royal blue scarf.