Luna's year

Harry was seriously contemplating capturing Neville's bishop, looking around the board for any possible countermoves when his attention was diverted by the muffled sounds of a rather loud argument drifting into the room from just beyond the Fat Lady's portrait.

The painting swung open, both he and Neville glancing over to see Hermione leading Ron through the narrow entrance hallway into the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione, Harry noticed, had an extremely irritated look on her face.

"I can't believe you won't take your job more seriously, Ron," she said reproachfully, whirling around to face him once they were clear of the hallway. "You never said a word back there!"

"It was Pansy Parkinson!" said Ron in exasperation. "What'd you expect, we all knew she had it coming!"

Hermione dropped her books on the small table next to an armchair. "Just because she's a Slytherin doesn't mean it's all right for someone to jinx her, Ron!"

Harry and Neville looked at each other. "Somebody jinxed Pansy Parkinson?!" said Neville with a gleeful expression on his face.

"What's going on?" asked Harry.

Hermione sat down heavily in an armchair near the fire, her brown eyes still hot with anger. She took a deep breath. "We were in the study hall. Pansy Parkinson was making some her usual snide remarks about Seamus and leprechauns and other nonsense - "

"Nonsense?" said Ron in shock, dropping his bag to the floor. "She called him a 'bloody Irishman' Harry!"

"Anyway," continued Hermione irritably, "Seamus jinxed her by turning her hair a horrible glowing shade of green, of course I had to stop it, Harry. It might've gotten out of control!"

"She put him on report Harry, went and told McGonagall!" exclaimed Ron.

Harry was now beginning to wish he hadn't asked. He was getting the feeling that he was being expected to take sides on the issue, something he was determined to avoid.

"Oh Ron, come off it!" said Hermione rather loudly. "We're prefects, for heaven's sake! You always look the other way when it's another Gryffindor!"

"But Malfoy does the same for the Slytherins!" riposted Ron just as loudly. Harry slowly turned his gaze to Neville, who was now staring hard at the chessboard, the escalating argument making them both wish they were anywhere but there.

"That doesn't justify anything!" said Hermione shrilly. "Just because Malfoy sinks into corruption doesn't mean you have to go and do the same! Grow up, Ron!"

"Aargh!" said Ron loudly, pulling at his hair. "Corrupt, am I? That's it! You're hopeless!"

With that, he stormed up the bluestone stairs to the boys dormitory, leaving his bag on the floor.

Harry looked to Hermione, who'd now crossed her arms and sank down into the depths of her chair, staring into the fire with flushed cheeks.

"You okay, Hermione?" he asked.

For several moments she said nothing, continuing to focus her glare into the flickering embers before finally stirring. "He left me to the wolves, Harry! Instead of presenting a united front he pretended he didn't know what was going on. Some Prefect he turned out to be..."

"Oh..." said Harry, trying to think of a way to comfort her without making it sound like he was taking sides. "Um..."

"Hey, Hermione, I, uh, got five points for Gryffindor today in Charms...amazing isn't it?" said Neville said, trying to sound cheerful.

"That's nice, Neville," said Hermione, without turning her gaze from the fire. They descended into awkward silence, only the muted murmurs of a group of second years behind them mingled with the crackling flames permeating the room.

Hermione grabbed one of her books from the table. Harry noticed that she was flipping through the pages rather quickly and distractedly, certainly she wasn't reading. He tried to divert his attention back to the game, but found it very hard to regain his concentration. What had he been looking at before? His knight?

He and Neville both jumped, startled by Hermione closing her book with a loud snap.

"Oh, this is useless!" she said angrily, quickly gathering the rest of her books and storming off up the spiral staircase.

Neville looked at Harry, his eyebrows raised.

* * *

The next several days saw the rift between Ron and Hermione escalate dangerously in intensity, rather than diminish. Neither one had said a word to the other, even when seated at the Gryffindor table together in the Great Hall. They'd even ended up patrolling the school separately after curfew, instead of together, as was their usual custom.

This was all serving to make Harry increasingly uncomfortable around his friends, to the point where he was beginning to wonder if his decision to let sleeping dogs lie had been the right one, especially as the dogs in question only seemed to be getting more rabid by the day. But he was more determined than ever to avoid taking sides, which is what he feared his intervention might trigger. He tried broaching the subject with each of them individually, but both were so adamant they were in the right that he quickly dropped the matter.

Their estrangement reached a new level that Friday during dinner in the Great Hall, when Ron rolled his eyes and quickly left the table at Hermione's approach.

This is getting out of hand, Harry thought, his frustration with the two of them becoming increasingly difficult to contain. Their intransigence was beginning to do some real damage, he sensed. They had to bury the hatchet, and soon.

Hermione stopped in her tracks as she saw Ron march off to the far end of the Gryffindor table, having made no attempt to disguise his reason for leaving. She seemed about to call out to Ron for a moment, a deeply hurt look on her face. After a moment's hesitation she bit her lip and turned on her heels, and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Ginny had observed the entire proceedings too. "Are they ever going to start talking?" she asked, "This is getting bad, Harry..."

"I know," said Harry worriedly. "But they just won't talk about it. Not with me, anyway; I've never seen them so stubborn..."

* * *

Late that afternoon after his last class of the day, Ron decided to let off some steam with some solo flying practice on the Quidditch Pitch. He hadn't bothered to book it; if there was someone practising he'd simply go elsewhere. He wanted to be anywhere but the Gryffindor Common Room these days.

Carrying his broomstick over his shoulder, he made his way through the inner courtyard, the castle's main entrance looming ahead, when he heard a familiar voice chime up near him.

"Hello, Ronald."

He turned to see Luna Lovegood, sitting atop the waist-high wall between two of the large white stone columns that intermittently surrounded the courtyard. Her feet were dangling loosely over the edge, her ever-present copy of The Quibbler in her hands, though, as Ron noted, it was right side up for once.

"Hey, Luna," said Ron dully, waving vaguely at her without pausing, determined to avoid a conversation with the bizarre Ravenclaw.

His stomach tightened as glimpsed her quickly jumping off her perch, running to catch up with him. He groaned. He was in no mood for chit-chat, least of all with "Loony" Luna Lovegood.

"I'll walk with you," she said in her dreamy voice.

"You don't even know where I'm going," shot back Ron, picking up the pace.

Luna matched him step for step, her trailing, waist-length dirty blonde fluttering uncontrollably behind her. "Well it seems pretty obvious, actually," she said, pointing at his broomstick. "You're going to the Pitch."

Ron sighed. "Fine," he said, too tired to make up excuses.

They walked side by side for a while, neither one uttering so much as a word.

Come on, thought Ron, give me one of your Snork-thingy stories so I can bite your head off, anything! He was in no mood for her company and was just looking for a reason to tell her off.

After walking for awhile longer though, Ron's hopes of reaching the pitch without having to engage in Luna's idle chatter began to rise. He could see the playing field looming closer, clearly visible in the angled rays of late afternoon sunlight; it appeared deserted. Excellent, he thought, as his stride picked up with renewed vigour.

"You're hurting Hermione, you know," said Luna dreamily out of the blue, still managing to keep up with him.

Ron stopped in his tracks and turned to glare at her. That was not what he'd expected to hear; he'd been bracing himself for some ludicrous tale of Blubbering Something-or-others...

"How would you know?" said Ron irately. "And what's your business in it, anyway?"

"Ginny told me," said Luna airily, taking no notice of Ron's rudeness, her large silver eyes staring at him in that intense manner that unsettled him so. "She was crying last night in the girls' dormitory."

Ron blinked. "She...she did?" he asked, stunned at this bit of unexpected news.

Luna nodded. "She's quite upset," she said serenely.

Ron's face flushed. "Yeah, but you weren't there, you didn't see what happened - "

He stopped abruptly. Luna was staring at him so intently, her eyes seemingly boring right into him, to his great consternation.

"That doesn't matter, Ron," she said softly, almost reproachfully. His mouth opened slightly; she'd never called him Ron before. "She's your best friend, you know. With Harry, of course."

Ron's mouth hung open, at a loss for an adequate reply. There was a simple, undeniable truth to what Luna had said, to which there could be no valid argument.

She was staring at him very seriously. "You'll both be very sad if you throw all that away, you know."

"But...I'm the one who stood up for Gryffindor...our own House, for crying...she didn't even..." stammered Ron, though that argument was beginning to sound less and less convincing, even to his own ears.

She tilted her head slightly and continued gazing unblinkingly into his eyes. "It makes no difference, you know," she said quietly, "Who was right and who was wrong. Mum told me it's the choices we make that really make us who we are, though I think she got that from an old mentor of hers, really...anyway, you have two choices, Ron...to keep Hermione's friendship, or not."

She was still staring at Ron, her large pale eyes seemingly opening his own as well. They stood in silence for several moments, Luna gazing up at him expectantly.

"Yeah," said Ron at last, "I guess...I guess you're right, Luna." For some reason he didn't feel the need to argue the matter any longer, for her words had hit home. It was, after all, a silly little argument in the first place that had caused such a gaping rift between him and Hermione; waiting for her to apologize now seemed so trivial and unimportant, somehow...

He looked back at her; she was smiling slightly.

"Well," she said airily, "I think I'll go get some pudding. I'll see you later, Ronald!"

With that, she turned, her copy of The Quibbler rolled up in one hand and made her way back towards the castle, a visible spring in her step, her long hair flouncing along happily.

Ron watched her go, a newfound appreciation for Luna dawning within him. She does make sense...sometimes, he thought to himself. He turned and looked back towards the Pitch. There's no one to practice with anyway, he told himself with a sigh, as he shouldered his broomstick once more and slowly made his way back to the castle.

* * *

Harry was startled to see Ron and Hermione come back from their prefect's duties together that night, and giggling besides that. He glanced back to Neville, who was looking at them with an equally bemused expression.

"What's up with you two?" asked Harry, grinning. "You both seem to be in a good mood all of a sudden!"

Hermione smiled at him. "Oh...everything's fine, Harry," she said, coming to sit by the fire with them. "In fact, we, er, helped unruffle some of Seamus' feathers, you might say." She had an unusually mischievous look in her eyes that was not lost on Harry.

"What?" asked Neville asked eagerly. "What'd you do?"

Hermione seemed caught halfway between laughter and embarrassment, sinking further down into the chair, both hands covering her mouth. "Oh, we really shouldn't have done that, Ron," she said, her voice punctuated with giddiness. Despite her voiced misgivings, Harry got the feeling that she wouldn't undo whatever they'd done for the world. "We are prefects, after all."

"But of course," said Ron, doing his best 'stiff upper lip' imitation. "We really must set a good example for the others, mustn't we, Miss Granger?"

He walked stiffly and formally to the chair opposite her, holding one arm regally behind his back. He stopped and nodded down to both Harry and Neville. "Cheerio, old chaps!"

At that, Hermione burst into laughter, turning to bury her face into the chairs' plush padding in a vain attempt to suppress her mirth. Several students at the back of the room glanced over in her direction.

Harry and Neville looked at each other, confused grins reflected on each other's faces.

* * *

The month had drawn to a close on what Harry surmised might well have been the best September he'd ever experienced at Hogwarts. Although the schoolwork was heavy as usual, the knowledge that no O.W.L.S. awaited him at year's end made for a much less stressful environment. Also, there had been no disasters all month, with Voldemort seemingly keeping quiet, and as a bonus he'd begun practising Quidditch again, with the first match of the season, against Hufflepuff, only days away.

Harry arrived in the Great Hall with Hermione, strolling over to where Ron, Ginny and Neville were sitting together at the Gryffindor table. They'd just had time to take their seats when he heard Professor McGonagall chiming the students into silence, tapping the rim of her glass with her spoon. The hall quickly hushed.

Dumbledore stood up, his clear blue eyes twinkling in the brightly candlelit hall. "I know many of you are eagerly waiting to fill the voids in your stomachs, however before we begin the feast," he said, "I have a few announcements to make."

Harry listened attentively. Normally the Headmaster made such announcements at the start of term, or if there was something really important to disseminate. It wouldn't be one of Filch's additions to the prohibited pranks list, Harry thought.

"Firstly, I must announce that the year's first trip to Hogsmeade, scheduled for next weekend, has been cancelled." At that, the hall burst forth in murmurs and groans, as all had looked forward to the traditional outing to the Wizarding village. Harry looked around, everyone seeming to be as disappointed as was. McGonagall took her spoon and made to tap her glass, but Dumbledore waved her off, standing patiently, his fingertips joined together, and waited for the hall to gradually quieten down again.

"Secondly, I therefore announce that, as a school treat, there will be a trip to Hogsmeade village this weekend."

The Great Hall erupted in cheers. Harry and Ron looked at each other with grins, having gone through the whole gamut of emotions from disappointment and glee in a matter of seconds. "Trust Dumbledore to do things in style!" Ron said.

Once again, Dumbledore waited patiently for the hubbub to die down. "I must ask you all," he said, more seriously, "To keep this to yourselves. After discussing the matter with the Ministry, I have decided to move up the trip to Hogsmeade by a week in the interests of security, and consequently, no owls will be permitted to leave Hogwarts this night. This year, most of your teachers will be accompanying you, and as well, the Ministry has made available a good number of Aurors to provide additional assurance."

He looked down the long hall, a sea of happy faces shining back at him despite his caution. "Well then...tuck in!

With that, he waved his hands, the traditional cornucopia of food materializing on the long tables from the kitchens below.

During the feast there was much talk about the upcoming outing. "I'm going to Honeydukes and stock up on a month's supply of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans!" said Neville gleefully. "I ran out way too soon last time!"

"Well, I think I'll stop at Scrivenshaft," said Hermione. "I could really use another quill. Actually I should get a few spares while I'm at it, really."

"Another quill?" asked Ron. "You got a brand new one last year, didn't you?"

"It's worn out," answered Hermione. "Maybe I should get a different quill for each day of the week, that way I won't have to replace them nearly as much. What are you going to do, Harry?" she asked interestedly.

"I think I'll have a go at a few butterbeers," said Harry, glancing at the teacher's table at the far end of the hall as Hagrid was making his way to his seat.

"Mmmm, butterbeer," said Ron, relishing the thought out loud. "You can count me in on that, mate."

After the feast they decided to take to the library and pack in as much homework as they could, seeing as they wouldn't have the opportunity again during the coming weekend. Ron volunteered to retrieve their notebooks and quills from the Common Room.

Harry and Hermione were walking along the main hall towards the staircase at the far end that led up to the second floor, when a resounding crash rang out. That's from the second floor, Harry mused. They looked at each other for a moment and broke out into a run, making for the staircase. A few other students in the hall had heard the crash as well, watching them curiously.

They'd just ran up a few steps on the staircase when they came to a halt, seeing the floating figure of Peeves the Poltergeist gliding down towards them, an expression of sheer delight on his wide, malevolent face. He stopped, hovering, right before them, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh looky, it's Potty and Grangy," mocked Peeves, pointing at them both with his arms crossed. "Running in the halls, are we?"

"Um...hello, Peeves," Harry said cautiously. "We were just... coming to investigate that noise." He glanced at Hermione, who nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Ooohh that," said Peeves knowingly, an obviously false look of concern replacing his mischievous grin. "You should see it, it looks something awful!"

"What?" asked Hermione, eyes widening, "What looks awful?"

Peeves instantly diverted his attention to her, floating just inches away from her face. "Wouldn't pay attention to me, it wouldn't!" he said, a shocked expression on his glowing face. "Had to do it, I did!"

With that, Peeves shot past them down the stairs, cackling madly.

They looked at each other for a moment before rushing to the second floor. The sight that greeted them made them both stop in their tracks, gaping open-mouthed at the approaching figure.

Luna was strolling slowly towards them, virtually covered from head to toe in a dark, purplish goo that to Harry smelled like cranberries. A large ceramic bowl lay smashed on the floor partway down the hall, the telltale pieces of pottery scattered about indicating the spot Peeves had struck.

"Oh, hello," said Luna vaguely, only noticing their presence. She made to move around them.

"Luna, wait!" said Hermione. "Holy cricket, what happened??"

Luna stared at her for a moment as if not understanding the question.

"Oh...well, I was reading, actually," she said at last, raising her hopelessly stained copy of The Quibbler. "I suppose I was being rather rude by ignoring him, but there was this very interesting article on Krakens, you know..."

She flipped through the virtually illegible paper. "Well, it's in here somewhere, I know...I'll show after I get it cleaned up."

Other than looking very forlorn, she gave no sign of being upset at being covered in sticky goo; indeed, she seemed almost unaware of it, though Harry knew that was highly improbable.

"Why don't you just scourgify yourself, Luna?" he asked.

"Oh," she said, waving one hand sadly towards the stairs, "Well, he took my wand just before dropping that bowl on me, actually. I really don't know where he took it. Anyway, I'd better go wash up, I was really hoping to get some pudding later."

"Well, we have our wands," suggested Hermione, drawing hers from her robes.

"Oh, no, that's all right," Luna smiled at her. "I'll just go get cleaned up and get some pudding before the feast is over."

She seemed thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose I should go write an owl to Daddy; I really need another wand, I have Transfiguration and Charms on Monday."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

"Um, there's no owls leaving tonight, Luna," said Hermione said, realizing Luna hadn't been present during Dumbledore's announcement. "I guess you haven't heard, the trip to Hogsmeade was moved up to tomorrow, and Professor Dumbledore doesn't want any owls leaving the school tonight, for security."

"Oh," said Luna dreamily. "Well, I can go to the post office there, then. Are you going to the Three Broomsticks?" she asked dreamily, staring at the two of them. Other students were beginning to make their way up the staircase in curiosity, stopping to laugh and point at Luna.

"Yeah actually, you should come, Luna," said Harry, feeling intensely sorry for the girl, even though she gave no hint of embarrassment. His talk with Luna at the end of the previous year had made Harry feel a bit protective of her, even though she seemed perfectly at ease with her lot in life.

Luna smiled dreamily at them, before proceeding down the stairs out of sight. The students coming up openly giggled at her as she drifted by.

"That's awful," said Hermione, turning to Harry. "Peeves does some mean pranks, but I've never heard of him stealing things before!"

"Why would Peeves want her wand, anyway?" asked Harry. He spied a small shape at the far end of the hall. It had stopped near the shattered ceramics strewn about the floor near the library's entrance. It was Mrs. Norris.

"I don't know..." said Hermione softly. "But I'm going to get it back."

They quickly marched back down the stairs, determined not to get blamed for the mess by Filch's cat.

"Where are you going?" asked Harry asked as they descended the staircase into the main hall.

"There's only one person in Hogwarts that can control Peeves," said Hermione, walking with an air of determination towards the Great Hall.

"You mean the Bloody Baron??" asked Harry incredulously. "You're going to actually ask him?"

Hermione looked over at Harry as they passed Justin Finch-Fletchley heading in the other direction. "No, silly," she said with a smile. "Professor Flitwick is the head of Ravenclaw House, so I'll ask him to ask Professor Snape to ask the Bloody Baron to have Peeves give Luna's wand back."

Harry chuckled at that. "Oh," he said. "Is that all? There's a lot of 'ifs' there, Hermione...I mean why bring Snape into it at all?"

"Well, the Bloody Baron is the ghost of Slytherin House, isn't he?" said Hermione, turning to face Harry. "And besides, Snape seems to be one of the few people that doesn't seem frightened to talk to him."

Harry thought about that. "Yeah I guess."

"Don't worry," Hermione smiled reassuringly. "We'll get her wand back. Why don't you go meet Ron in the library in a little while, tell him I'll be right along."

"Right." Harry smiled at her as she marched on towards the rapidly emptying Great Hall.