Luna's year

Luna pushed his arm back down. "That's a house-elf, you know," she said, looking at him strangely.

"That's no house-elf," said Harry through clenched teeth, his fist clenching his wand tightly. "That...that thing...it tricked me...if it wasn't for..."

Luna turned her gaze to the cowering elf, which was in turn glaring at them with equal parts loathing and horror.

"Oh...that's that Kreacher you told me about..." she said in a low voice.

Harry wanted nothing more than to vaporise this miserable, cowering creature before him. Everything that had gone so terribly askew at the Ministry the previous year was due to this traitorous little elf's treachery and deception - it deserved Sirius' fate, Harry vowed silently - he raised his wand again -

The tall woman's hand drifted into her robes, eyeing him warily. Luna quickly pulled him back, tugging hard on his sleeve.

"Cru - Cruc - Luna!" yelled Harry as he stumbled back and fought to maintain his balance. He lunged forward, trying desperately to point his shaking wand at the malevolent elf. "LET GO!!"

" - PUTRID CREATURE OF BILE!!! HORRID ABOMINATION!!! VILE ATROCITY - "

"GET OVER HERE!!!" screamed Harry at the house elf. He lurched forward with such force that his sleeve tore off at the shoulder, sending him hurtling to the floor and Luna falling backwards. He instinctively flailed out with his hands to break his fall, his wand clattering to the floor and rolling to a stop at the woman's feet. Kreacher's demented gaze followed it, a tiny gnarled hand reaching down -

"Accio wand!"

Harry's wand slipped out of Kreacher's reach and flew by his head, narrowly missing him. He rolled to his side to see Luna sitting on the floor where she'd fallen, his torn sleeve draped over her lap and her own wand drawn. She reached up and caught his wand in one hand.

Harry saw Tonks and Lupin battling valiantly behind her, frantically trying to shut the mouldy curtains of Mrs. Black's screaming portrait.

" - HALF-BREED OFFSPRING!! FOUL MONSTROSITY!!! BALEFUL WIGHT - "

Harry scrambled to his feet and glared at Kreacher, who now was infuriatingly sneering with delight, now that Harry was wandless. His vision clouded over with rage. Wand or not -

He lunged for the house-elf, hands extended in a preparatory stranglehold.

"Accio Harry!" shouted Luna behind him.

"YouuaaaaAAAGGGHHH!!!"

Harry felt himself lift off his feet and hurtle backwards through the air, the walls of the long hallway spinning wildly around him. He slammed heavily into Luna, who'd only just managed to get to her feet, sending them both sprawling across the floor.

" - IT DARES TO CAST SPELLS IN THE HOUSE OF MY FOREFATHERS!!! DEFILER!!! MALIGNANT SPIRIT!!! PESTILENT HALF-BREED - "

They rolled several times until they came to a stop near Mrs. Black's shrieking painting, Luna lying atop him.

"It won't stop!" shouted Tonks, struggling desperately with her half of the velvet curtain.

Harry tried to push Luna off, his rage blinding him to the single-minded determination of wringing Kreacher's scrawny neck.

"Harry, stop! It's me!" said Luna forcefully.

" - DREG OF WIZARDKIND!!! ABOMINABLE MISCREATION - "

Harry blinked. His vision cleared, becoming suddenly very conscious of two large, silvery eyes only inches from his. All thoughts of murderous intent quickly faded away.

"Take this side with me," said Lupin loudly from somewhere behind him, "If we both pull at the same time - "

"L-Luna?" Harry managed to blurt out. "I'm...it's okay..."

A look of relief cross her pale features. She moved off him and sat back, brushing away a mass of straying strands of dirty blonde hair from her face. Harry watched the tall woman walk by them, waving off Lupin and Tonks.

" - ACCURSED SPRITE!!! WRETCHED CHILD OF... "

The sight of the woman immediately caused Mrs. Black to fall silent. The stranger drew the curtains closed without the slightest difficulty. It had always been fiendishly difficult to for anyone else, Harry knew...how had she managed it with such ease?

It came to him, just as she turned from the painting to gaze down at him for a moment before walking quietly back into the kitchen. He'd seen her during the Quidditch World Cup two years before...it was Narcissa Malfoy, he realized.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position, Luna regarding him attentively.

"It wouldn't have made you feel any better, you know," she said solemnly.

"Sshhh," said Tonk, pressing a finger to her lips. Lupin helped Harry and Luna get to their feet and nodded them towards the kitchen.

"Evening, Amelia," said Lupin to the monocled woman sitting at the table as Tonks closed the kitchen door behind them. Harry recognized her immediately; she'd been one of the witches sitting at his hearing at the Wizengamot, when Fudge was trying to get him expelled for performing magic outside of school. She had several official-looking documents spread out on the table before her, as well as a golden quill perched atop a pewter inkwell. Harry detected a faint fish-like scent lingering in the air; a cauldron was on the stove, steam rising in wisps from under its lid.

Narcissa Malfoy had taken a seat at the far end of the table, watching them with cold detachment. Harry wondered what she was doing here, she of all people. And yet Lupin didn't seem at all surprised by her presence, which only served to perplex him further.

He started walking slowly around the kitchen, peering under the table, looking for any sign of Kreacher. The elf was nowhere to be seen. Luna, meanwhile, was following him about, trying to slip Harry's sundered sleeve back onto his arm.

"Hold still, you're making it rather hard to put this back on, you know," she said before finally slipping it back on. She then mended it back onto his robes with a Reparo charm, then gave Harry his wand back after concluding Kreacher wasn't to be found.

"I've never seen her get so riled up," said Tonks, jerking her thumb over her shoulder towards the hall. "What's gotten her so ticked off, anyway? I've heard her insults before, but that - "

"Probably not used to having strangers peeking under the curtains, I guess," said Lupin, drawing up chairs and glancing at Luna. "Anyway, Harry, I don't know if you've met Narcissa Malfoy?"

"Er," said Harry nervously, "once, sort of..."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow at him, Harry finding her aloofness rather disquieting. The air she presented was making him feel as though he was the intruder here.

Hang on, thought Harry, that's Lestrange's sister! Besides this is my place now! She's the one who should be feeling on edge, not me!

He tried to present a bolder facade, though so steadfast was her icy demeanor that it was Harry who finally turned his gaze elsewhere.

"Hello," said Luna dreamily as she took a seat next to Narcissa Malfoy. She proceeded forthwith to stare at the woman curiously, receiving a frosty gaze in return for her trouble.

Harry would have been interested to see who would win such a stare-off, but was interrupted by Lupin motioning him to sit down.

"I think you know Amelia Bones, if I'm not too mistaken?" asked Lupin, taking a seat next to Harry.

The plump, gray-haired witch gave Harry a smile which contrasted oddly with her somewhat stern appearance. "Oh yes," she said genially. "Bloody well threw a stick in old Fudge's spokes that day, didn't you, Mr. Potter?"

"Er, I suppose," said Harry cautiously. He was feeling rather intimidated by this woman, despite her evident cordiality.

"Well, it was about time someone did," she said. "Susan speaks very highly of you, Mr. Potter, as does Arthur Weasley, I might add. Which reminds me," she bent down to retrieve something from her satchel, handing over a small green and silver silk bag to Lupin. "This is the...er...the 'saltshaker'."

"Oh, yes," said Lupin knowingly, pocketing the small bag without any further explanation. Harry doubted very much it had anything to do with something so mundane as kitchenware.

"Anyway Harry, Amelia is a Ministry Magistrate as well as a member of the Wizengamot," said Lupin. "She has full legal authority to handle these types of affairs."

"Oh, okay," said Harry. He was rather curious about what had just changed hands, but it was definitely not the time nor the place to ask.

"Well then," said Mrs. Bones, pulling out a long and ornately written document, "this is your Godfather's last will and testament, Mr. Potter. In it, he has named you as principal beneficiary of his estate. Would you like me to read through it?"

"Um..." Harry glanced at Lupin, though he gave no sign as to what was considered appropriate. He was uncomfortable enough with the notion of being Sirius' inheritor; to have it all recited to him out loud, in front of Narcissa Malfoy no less, was unpalpable. Do I really have to go through this? he wondered. "I...er..."

"Take your time, Harry," said Lupin finally. "You could always read it later on your own, if you'd prefer."

Harry quickly seized on the offer. "Yeah," he said with tangible relief. "Yeah, I think I'll do that."

Amelia Bones nodded, smiling sympathetically. She turned the long document around to face Harry, the glowing Ministry seal stamped on the bottom corner. She took the long golden and dipped it in the inkwell.

"All right, Mr. Potter," she said graciously, "all you need to do is sign your acquiescement to the testament...right there," she pointed out the correct place for him to sign.

Harry hesitated. What did 'acquiescement' mean? This just didn't feel right. He didn't deserve Sirius' estate to begin with. He wondered what would happen if he didn't sign; couldn't the estate be transferred over to the Order?

But then he glanced up at the other end of the table. Narcissa Malfoy was staring at him rigidly.

No one said a word. He was beginning to regret not having Mrs. Bones read the testament out loud...he really had no idea what he was getting himself into. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, which only exacerbated his discomfort.

Waiting did nothing but augment his nervousness. Blast it, he thought, let the chips fall where they may, I'll deal with all this later.

He abruptly scribbled his signature on the document, noticing that nothing appeared on the parchment at first. Only gradually did the scribble began to glow softly and then solidified. He handed the golden quill back to Mrs. Bones, trying to stifle the trembling in his hand.

Mrs. Bones passed the document over to Lupin, handing him the quill in turn. "And, as a witness," she said, pointing to a line just below where Harry's signature appeared. Lupin solemnly penned his own signature and turned the document back to the Magistrate.

She removed the first copy of the document and handed it to Harry, folding away the other two into her satchel. They spent the next half hour or so going through several other forms, Mrs. Bones offering to read each one in turn, though Harry asked only for the briefest summations. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"Well," she said after they'd finished the last of the paperwork, gathering the various forms and putting them into her satchel, "it's done. Now it's quite normal to experience feelings of guilt during such times, Mr. Potter. Try not to let it get to you; most people go through this when they lose someone."

Harry gave a forced smile. "I...I guess," he said.

"Good lad," she said, getting up from her chair and moving over to the stove, where the cauldron was close to bubbling over. "Now then, I took the liberty of helping myself to some of the local ingredients while I was waiting. Would anyone care for supper? I'm known to make a mean calamari stew," she raised the lid, scooping a gray tentacle that had slipped over the side back into the pot.

"Thanks but I, uh, already ate before coming," said Harry, eyeing the steaming pot warily.

Tonks wandered, seeming to take a keen interest in what was boiling. She and Mrs. Bones started a discussion about the proper way to stew calamari, during which Harry quickly excused himself from the kitchen before he could see anything emerge from that pot, Luna trailing close behind. They crept silently past the portrait of Mrs. Black, being mindful not to utter a word, and took the staircase up to Harry's old room.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," said Luna dreamily as she plopped herself down on the edge of Ron's old bed. "It was nice of Minister Lupin to bring along a Magistrate, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," said Harry, taking a seat on his own bed across from her, Sirius' testament still clutched tightly in his hand. "You could have grabbed a bite, you know. I didn't mean for you to leave - "

"That's all right," said Luna vaguely. "I don't like tentacled food very much."

"You don't, huh?" said Harry, grinning. "I wonder why?" his weariness lifting slightly at the sight of her grimace.

"No, I've found it's rather 'oogily', actually," she said, shivering slightly.

She proceeded to gaze dreamily around the room, seeming to find interest in the most mundane things, even though the small bedroom was mostly bare aside from the beds, a nightstand and a small dresser. Harry glanced over at the empty portrait along the far wall, wondering if Phineas Nigellus could be eavesdropping on him. Was the presence of Narcissa Malfoy the 'peculiar' happenings he'd told Harry about?

"This is where you stayed last year?" asked Luna, running her hands across the blanket. "It's a rather odd old house, isn't it?"

"You should've seen it last year," said Harry. "We had to work for days just to make it liveable. The doxies were a nightmare."

Luna nodded knowingly. They were quiet for a time, Harry's elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the crumpled testament in his hands, unable to bring himself to read the document. He felt intensely uneasy, knowing that the strange old Black family residence now belonged to him. He resolved to ask Dumbledore if he could transfer it to the Order; anything to be rid of it. The memories of the place haunted him enough as it was...

He could sense Luna's eyes on him, although he found this strangely comforting. He wondered how she managed to live in the very house her mother raised her in. But then, Luna seemed the type to dwell on the positive memories of her life, unlike him. He drew up and looked at her.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, gazing at him empathically. Though the question was vague, Harry knew what Luna was referring to.

"I don't know," he answered. "I just...I don't want this place, Luna. It just doesn't feel right. I don't know how else to explain it. I've got more than enough money from my parents to get my own house after I graduate. If I graduate, that is. The last thing I need is another estate."

They descended back into silence. Harry thought about how it must have been for Luna to go through all this when her mother had died. Then he thought of her father and felt an intense sadness draw upon him; she might have to go through all this again soon, if they couldn't get him back...

"Have you ever read the story of Goldilocks?" asked Luna unexpectedly, her feet dangling playfully over the edge of the bed.

Harry looked up and blinked. "Eh? Goldilocks? Uh, yeah, sure. It's been a while, though. Why?"

Luna's large silver eyes brightened. She straightened up attentively. "Well, remember when the wolf sent her from the gingerbread house to bring the ox down to the village? How she ended up trading it for the magic beans instead - "

Harry put up both hands. "Whoa, hold on," he said, finding himself laughing. "I thought we were talking about Goldilocks!"

"We are," said Luna. "She's the one taking the ox to town, remember?"

Harry gaped at her. "The ox? Where does an ox come into it? I don't remember any ox...and that bit about the wolf? And the beans, and the gingerbread house - what about the three bears??"

Luna continued to stare at him innocently, her head tilting with curiosity. "What three bears?"

"The three - " blurted Harry, "The cottage! You know, the three bears! How she sneaks in, eats their oatmeal, and stuff!"

Luna's face brightened with a smile, her eyes wide with excitement. She clasped her hands between her knees and slipped to the edge of the bed eagerly. "Oh that version sounds rather interesting! Tell!"

"Wha - er, okay, well I guess it starts with 'Once upon a time' - hey wait, hang on...what were you going to say?" asked Harry. "Your version isn't the story of Goldilocks the way I remember it."

She regarded him for a few moments, her eyes clear and bright. "Well," she said, "what I was trying to tell you, Harry, is that you don't have to feel guilty, you know. That was the moral of the story. Well, my version anyway."

Harry stared at her. "Luna," he said, his emotions slowly bubbling up within him, "if...if it wasn't for me, Sirius would still be alive now. It's because of me, no one else. The mistakes I've made...there's no other way to look at it..."

"Of course there is," said Luna, slipping off her bed and coming to sit next to him. "If it wasn't for you, your Godfather would've always been a hunted fugitive, wouldn't he? I don't imagine he would have been very happy."

Harry looked at her sitting right next to him, seeing a slight smile on her face. What she said was true, he knew, but his actions had nevertheless ensured that he'd thrown away whatever future Sirius might've had. And what was worse, he seemed to have learned nothing from the lesson. How many times since had he endangered the lives of those friends which he held so dear?

"How...how did you deal with it?" asked Harry gently. "About your mother, I mean?"

"That's the trick, Harry," she said, nodding vigorously. "We all have two choices: to accept what life dishes out, or not. The bad with the good. Mum taught me that when I was quite young, you know. If you always fight it, then you eventually go mad, like Mirabella Plunkett, or sent to St. Mungo's, or turn yourself into a haddock."

"Huh? A haddock?" Harry shook his head, trying to clear that peculiar imagery from his mind. "You make it sound so simple, though. I don't know how you can find it so easy...I wish I could think that way, I really do."

"Well, I find it really helps, Harry," said Luna sagely.

"So...that...that's all you did? You just accepted it and moved on?"

"Well," she said, "some things are harder to accept than others, Harry, it's true...but then, you know we'll see them again, on the other side. We both heard them, after all."

Harry thought about the Veil. He had heard voices, distant, strangely disembodied, perhaps, but definitely there. He wondered how Luna could place so much faith in such strange, inexplicable things. "But...how can you be so sure?" he asked.

She leaned close, a few roaming strands of dirty blonde hair brushing against his. "Because I choose to believe, Harry. And it is that simple, really. You reminded me of that yourself, remember?" she whispered furtively. She drew back and nodded with a smile, pale eyebrows rising.

"Besides," she said dreamily, waving a hand around the room, "I can't imagine why anyone would choose not to believe. People are so odd sometimes, really. Look at Muggles. They don't even believe in magic, you know. It must be so boring to go through life like that."

Harry chuckled at her reasoning. He glanced over to the deserted painting over the dresser, taking satisfaction that its august occupant was elsewhere.

"Do you think I'll ever go mad and wind up in St. Mungo's?" he asked jokingly, staring at the vacant portrait.

His question was greeted with silence. He turned back to look at Luna, who, to his surprise seemed to have taken the question seriously and was regarding him intently, hand cupping her chin, tilting her head back and forth as though ascertaining his propensity for insanity. "Mmmm, no," she said finally to his relief. "No, I don't imagine you will."

"Whew, thanks," said Harry, grinning.

They sat together in silence for awhile, Harry beginning to feel strangely better in spite of his wave of self-recrimination.

A thought occurred to him, something Luna had mentioned -

"Anyway, what were you talking about before? That Mirabella lady, who was she?" he asked.

"Oh come on," said Luna, gazing at him incredulously. "You know, Mirabella Plunkett. The girl who fell in love with a merman?"

"Huh?"

"Well, it was published a few years ago," she said, "so it's possible you never saw it. Anyway, she fell in love with a merman in Loch Lomond. It was quite romantic, really. Anyway her parents didn't want her marrying him, you know, and so one day she finally went mad and transfigured herself into a haddock."

She appeared pensive for a moment, gazing off into space, "I suppose she might have been happy, though. Well, maybe that wasn't the best example after all."

"Ooookay," said Harry. This sounds like Quibbler material, he thought. One of these days he was going to have to read through one of those magazines and judge it for himself.

"Mrs. Malfoy doesn't talk very much, have you noticed?" said Luna disappointedly, swinging her legs back and forth over the edge of the bed. "I hope she'll come around, though, she seems nice. It was good of the Order to bring her here, wasn't it?"

Harry had quite forgotten about that. Had she gone to Dumbledore? Was that why she was here now, under his protection?

Now that Grimmauld Place was his, what was he to do with her? Throw her out? Of course, there was no question that it would continue to serve as the Order's headquarters; that at least brought him a small measure of satisfaction. But sheltering Bellatrix Lestrange's sister sent him chills.

"I don't know about having her here, Luna," he admitted. "She's the wife of a Death Eater, remember? And her sister is the worst one of the bunch."

"She's not one of them, though, is she?" asked Luna rhetorically.

Maybe not, thought Harry. But he was finding considerable difficulty in believing Narcissa Malfoy could be so very different from her sister. Both their names were still proudly displayed on the Black family tree, after all.

"Harry, do you think your Godfather was ever a member of the Hobgoblins?" asked Luna, absent-mindedly twirling a stray lock of sandy-coloured hair.

Harry snapped out of his dark thoughts. Luna could change topics as easily as he could blink, it seemed. "The Hobgoblins? Who are - oh, wait, you're talking about that Stubby Boardman thing, aren't you?"

"That's right," said Luna, nodding enthusiastically. "Wouldn't it be interesting if they were one and the same, like Ms. Purkis said?"

Harry thought back to the first time he'd read that story. It was just after first meeting Luna for the first time on the Hogwarts Express, in fact. It seemed so long ago now; that day she was nothing more than on oddball to his eyes...how things had changed since then. He shuddered to think of everything he'd have missed had he followed Neville's lead and passed that cabin by on that fateful day.

"Well, I don't know," said Harry. "I heard Sirius singing Christmas Carols last year, and believe me, I don't think he would've been a singer. But then you never know with some of these bands, I guess."

A twinge of guilt ran through Harry. Here he was, getting consoled by Luna Lovegood while her own father was being held by the darkest wizard of the times. He looked into her large, mesmerizing silver eyes and knew he couldn't keep it from her any longer. He took a deep breath.

"Luna, there's something I have to tell you," he began gently. "It won't be easy for you to hear, but I keep telling myself if wouldn't be right not to tell you. You do have to know."

Luna became very still, her eyes fixed on his, her expression inscrutable.

Harry tried to sound as reassuring as he could, given the dark nature of the information he had to present. "Professor Dumbledore, he found out some news about your father...he's being held...by Voldemort," he said carefully. He prepared for the worst.

Luna showed no reaction, however, so he continued. "He's...he wants your wand, Luna. In exchange for your father..."

He held his breath. Now she knows.

She continued to stare at him, seemingly unaware of the magnitude of what Harry had just said. Several moments of silence passed.

"Uh...Luna?" asked Harry tentatively, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said softly at last. "It's not really a surprise, Harry."

Harry blinked. "It...it's not?"

She nodded solemnly. "There was plenty of time to think up on that tower, you know," she said. "I rather imagined it would come to something about this," she pointed to the tip of her wand tucked behind her ear.

"He'll come back, though, Harry," she said. "You so wonderfully reminded me of that yourself."

Harry swallowed. He remembered all too well; it was the only time he'd ever seen Luna truly lost within herself.

"But, listen," he said tentatively, "We...well, Hermione, actually...came up with a plan - "

Luna's eyes widened precipitously at this news. "Oh, Hermione's plans are so imaginative, aren't they? Remember how she fooled that Umbridge lady last year? Not to mention those brilliant galleons she created! Strange how she can do all that and still not believe in Snorkacks. Anyway, Harry, tell!"

Harry went on to describe Hermione's plan, Luna listening raptly all the while. He was surprised to see her taking it all so well. He found himself wishing he could take some of his own advice he'd given her that fateful night on the tower.

"I'm coming with you," said Luna bluntly once he'd finished.

"We thought you might," smiled Harry. "Ginny wants you at her back."

They continued talking for a while, first about Hermione's plan, then about Luna's father, and then wandered incongruously amidst a bewildering array of subjects, including Luna's rather ludicrous rendering of the Goldilocks story, followed by Harry's more traditional version. They eventually came, somehow, to the subject of Sirius and the Black family.

"No, no," said Harry, finding he didn't feel at all uncomfortable talking about this usually sensitive subject with Luna, "it couldn't be Regulus, he died years ago. Sirius told me so himself."

"At almost the exact same time Stubby Boardman 'retired', too!" said Luna excitedly, "It's him, Harry, it must be!"

"Okay, look," said Harry, finding it difficult to keep a straight face while playing the Devil's advocate on this farcical subject, "he's still listed on the Black family tree; I saw his name there last year. I'm sure Mrs. Black would have disowned him if he ever was a member of a band like the Hobgoblins!"

"But she's such an old ninnyhammer," countered Luna. "He would have kept it a secret from her, of course!"

"Well she - hey, why was she calling you all that stuff, anyway?" asked Harry. "She's always yelling her head off, but I've never heard her go off the deep end that much."

"Oh that...well..." said Luna, shrugging slightly, "that's because Mum was - "

A knock on the door interrupted them, a moment before Tonks stuck her pink-haired head in.

"We're all done downstairs," she said. "Whenever you guys are ready, Remus is waiting to take us back."

Harry looked back to Luna. She was staring back at him blankly, though her silence indicated to him that she didn't wish to discuss the matter of her mother in front of Tonks. He took the cue and stood off the bed, as Luna serenely followed suit.

As they walked out the door Harry thought he heard a muffled chortle coming from the near wall over the cabinet...

* * *

The next few days passed by quite uneventfully, aside from a minor accident with Zacharias Smith during the first DA meeting since the holidays, Seamus having apologized profusely to seemingly no avail. Madam Pomfrey assured them the third eye on Zacharias' forehead would gradually dissapear overnight.

Harry had not been able to bring himself to read Sirius' testament any more now than he had while at Grimmauld Place. Lupin had confirmed at least that Narcissa Malfoy had indeed sought out Dumbledore after receiving Luna's note which, apparently, had arrived in the proverbial nick of time. Harry found himself wishing the note had arrived just a bit late, before quickly reprimanding himself for such thoughts.

What was more disturbing to him now was Kreacher's presence; Lupin had informed Harry that he served the Malfoys now, and that so long as Narcissa was around, there was nothing to be concerned about. That line of reasoning hardly satisfied Harry, especially as the elf had been sworn to serve Sirius just as well.

He'd been wondering what to do about the two of them, though at Hermione's pleading he'd decided to leave the matter up to Dumbledore, as he was head of the Order and Grimmauld Place still served as its headquarters.

As it was, he was glad to put the issue behind him for now. He and his friends had gone down to Hagrid's hut Friday evening, Harry managing to find solace in its familiar surroundings. He hadn't paid Hagrid a visit since before Christmas, he realized.

" 'Course I'll help," said Hagrid gruffly as he refilled Ron's oversized cup. "But y'know, Hermione's right, Harry. Yer really should be tellin' Professor Dumbledore 'bout all this."

Harry groaned inwardly. Not another one, he thought, remaining silent in the hopes that the large gamekeeper would abandon the argument.

His wish was short-lived. "See, Harry?" said Hermione from her vantage point near the fireplace, sitting next to Luna in the huge stuffed armchair that had plenty of room for both girls, their feet not quite reaching over the edge of the seat cushion. "You don't think Dumbledore would be against it either, do you Hagrid?"

"Fer lil' Luna's 'ere? 'Course he would'na be against it!" exclaimed Hagrid, smiling reassuringly over at the young Ravenclaw. She was holding an oversized teacup with both hands in her lap, while gazing dreamily about the place, lightly tapping the tips of her feet together, seemingly lost in the virtually endless details of the hut's rustic decor. She'd emerged from her reverie quickly enough however, once the discussion had turned to the Hogsmeade mission.

"Well, I for one agree with Hagrid and Hermione," announced Ginny, taking a momentary break from feeding treats to Fang under the table. "Dumbledore would want to help, Harry."

"That's not the issue," said Harry dispiritedly, feeling the first hints of a headache coming on. "I don't doubt he'd want to capture Lestrange, it's what he's likely to do after that!"

"Eh?" asked Hagrid, putting the large teapot back on the stove. "What'd ye mean, exactly?"

"Oh, he's worried that Dumbledore wouldn't want to give up Lestrange," answered Hermione severely. "Because of what she knows."

"Kodswallop!" said Hagrid, retaking his seat at the table next to Neville. "He'd never leave somebody out t'dry like that, Harry. Ye should know better!"

"Should I?" retorted Harry hotly, the memory of Dumbledore's dismissal of him a few nights before still vivid in his recollection. "If there's one thing I've managed to learn over the last few years, it's that I don't know Dumbledore as well as I thought I did!"

"What do you mean by that?" asked Hermione, looking quite surprised.

Harry glared at her, though his anger quickly faltered at the sight of her concerned gaze. "It's...nothing," he said finally, feeling everyone's eyes on him and staring at a table leg. They have no idea, he thought, no idea at all...

An uncomfortable silence descended in the hut. Everyone seemed unwilling to ask Harry to elaborate on that last point, lest he should lose his temper again.

"Well, I think we should get to the carriages early tomorrow morning," said Hermione at last. "We'll have to keep an eye on Malfoy when we get to Hogsmeade."

"I agree," said Harry at once, grateful for the change in subject. "And we stick to him like glue once we get there."

"What do we do if he notices us?" asked Ron, leaning far back in his chair so as to avoid Fang's drooling, as Ginny had dropped a few treats at his feet. "I mean, it won't look exactly natural for us to be hanging out with Malfoy, will it?"

"Just be inconspicuous," said Harry. "Try and make it look like we're just wandering around or something."

"Blimey, the whole lot of us, walking in circles around him, pretending to 'wander around'?" asked Ron. "I'm sure he won't suspect a thing!"

"Oh Ron," Hermione said, "Don't be such a prat. There is such a thing as subtlety, you know, even if you're not aware of the concept."

"I can be subtle!" protested Ron, leaning over more in his chair until he lost his balance and tipped it over, sending himself crashing heavily to the floor, while upending a large wooden bucket with his shoulder, sending a load of Fire Crab shells spilling across the floor under the table.

"I stand corrected," said Hermione dryly.

"Careful, 'ere," said Hagrid, helping Ron back to his feet. Luna was trying valiantly to suppress her laughter by dropping her cup in her lap and pressing her fists in her mouth. Her shaking shoulders and large eyes swimming with tears of mirth were tangible evidence that she was not entirely successful.

"Ewww!" said Ron with disgust, brushing off a few shells from his robes. "These are all slimy!"

"Yeh, well," said Hagrid, righting the bucket back up as Ginny used her wand to refill it. "Can' exactly leave 'em out to dry this time o' year, y'know."

"Well," said Hermione, "we'd best get going anyway, it'll be curfew soon. Thank you, Hagrid!"

She slid off the large chair with Luna, the others following suit after Ginny had tossed down her remaining treats to Fang. Luna was eyeing Ron with a look of barely contained mirth, which he promptly noticed before marching quickly to the door, ears reddening.

They bid goodnight to the gamekeeper and proceeded up the trail back towards the castle. About halfway back Harry took Luna aside and told the rest of them to go on ahead without him.

"Luna," he said sombrely, "you didn't say anything in there. I'd like to know what you think of what Hermione said."

She stared at him blankly.

"About going to Dumbledore, I mean." He added. "You know...how I feel about..."

"I remember," said Luna, nodding. "I didn't realise you were still so upset about it, Harry."

"Well, I wasn't," he replied. "But he did it again, Luna! Just a couple of nights ago. They were getting ready to discuss something in his office right after he'd told me about your dad, and then he sent me away! Blast it, I deserve to know! You deserve to know!"

To his surprise, she just smiled dreamily at him. "Well, what do you think he would do?" she asked.

Harry blinked. "Well...what if he was against giving up Lestrange? I mean with all she knows - "

"Are you listening to your heart or your brain when you say that?" asked Luna serenely, taking a step closer and staring intently up at him with her large silver eyes.

Harry stared back at her. "I...what's the difference?"

She titled her head slightly. "You don't really subscribe to the buttered toast principle, do you?"

"Huh?" said Harry, gaping at her in befuddlement.

She smiled. "Well, when you drop a piece of toast, what side does it land on?"

Harry briefly wondered if he'd somehow blacked out and missed part of their conversation. He decided to indulge this latest shift in topic to see where it might lead.

"Er...well, buttered side down, usually."

"Exactly!" said Luna, nodding vigorously. "That's your heart talking."

Harry gaped at her. "Er...I think I'm missing something here..."

"Oh well, look," she said, "most people seem to get all upset when that happens, because they blame it on bad luck, right?"

"Well, yeah," said Harry, "...aren't they right?"

She shook her head, "No," she said, "it's because the toast doesn't have time to flip all the way around before it hits the floor. Our tables aren't high enough, you know. Mum and I tried it once at home, we did all kinds of tests...the tables would have to be at least six feet high for the toast to revolve all the way around, actually."

Harry found himself smiling at the mental image of Luna and her mother pushing toast off tables in order to test their hypothesis.

"So...the moral is...just accept the toast falling that way and eat it anyhow?"

"No," said Luna, "there could be Gimpies lurking on the floor, you know. They're very tiny, so you'd never know if they were there or not. Not to mention the dirt."

"Okay," said Harry, even more confused than before. "So then it's...to just make more toast?"

"Well that's one," she said, before leaning close and whispering furtively: "But Mum and I found a secret: if you lay your toast buttered side down on your plate they land buttered-side up if they fall."

"That's why you do that!" exclaimed Harry. "I always wondered why, I thought it was because - er - "

"Because I'm odd?" she asked dreamily.

"I don't think you're odd," said Harry. "At all. But...I'm kind of wondering what all this has to do with my going to Dumbledore."

"Well, when you dropped the toast, you guessed it was because of bad luck that it landed the way it did...you automatically assumed the worst, right?"

"Uh...well, yeah..." said Harry, scratching his head.

"Well, aren't you doing the same now, Harry?"