Chapter 27
"Harry… you do realize your new friend is… a little strange?" Draco Malfoy whispered to me, watching with the corner of his eye to make sure the girls talking among themselves wouldn't hear us. Not that the proud son of an old pure-blood family cared so much about some girls' opinions, but… Draco was openly afraid of Daphne, and her younger sister—Astoria—had already started getting along with Luna.
"We wizards are all a little mad," I smirked lightly, folding my arms. "Besides, her nonsense might not be complete nonsense. At least Wrackspurts are real—partly, anyway."
"You're joking, right? Or has she infected you with her craziness already?.. Can her madness infect other people!?" the blond boy stared at me blankly, a hint of worry creeping into his eyes as he glanced toward the whispering girls.
"Calm your imagination down, Malfoy," I snorted, folding my arms again. "Most likely Luna just has some ability or gift that lets her see what ordinary wizards can't. Is that really so rare in the magical world?"
"Well, I've never heard of Wrackspurts," the Slytherin rolled his shoulders, stubbornly refusing to admit I might be right. "I'd sooner believe the girl is just insane. Especially since her father, from what I know, is the same…"
"You've heard of the Lovegoods too?" I asked out of simple curiosity, knowing that with such a small wizarding population, everyone ran into each other sooner or later.
"Not exactly heard of—just heard things," Draco answered awkwardly, as if afraid I'd accuse him of being connected to a weird girl he clearly considered crazy. "The Lovegoods are pure-blood, strong, wealthy, and despite their oddities they have ties to some more noble families."
"I see. Then keep thinking Luna is a bit strange if you want," I said, smiling provocatively. "Just remember I like her. And if you don't keep your tongue under control…"
"Tch. Sometimes I think the Hat was wrong not to put you in Gryffindor," Draco muttered, clearly disliking the warning, though he didn't push it into a real argument. "Threatening everyone with your strength—it's so their style!.. By the way, has that cheeky Mudblood from Gryffindor finally left you alone?"
"You mean Colin Creevey?" I grimaced, irritated both by the memory of that little paparazzo and by Draco's vocabulary. I still hadn't managed to change it. "Last time I transfigured his camera into a swarm of huge spiders that nearly made the youngest Weasley faint, but I doubt the boy will stop so easily."
"Hmph. Rude and tactless, like all Mudbloods," Draco's racism continued to grate on me. "Next time just curse him properly. I know you've got the spells."
"Keep talking and I'll be the one to curse you properly," I snorted, not caring in the slightest when Draco's squires tensed. "Have I not already told you what I think about Muggle-borns?"
"Khm. Yes, sorry… I keep forgetting your mother was from the Muggle world too," Draco sulked. He didn't really want to offend me, but… Draco Malfoy was Draco Malfoy. His family traditions and his father's example were too strong.
"Train your memory," I said, refusing to continue that thread. "And we should go to dinner," I raised my voice just enough for the four girls to hear.
"Already?" Astoria Greengrass looked mildly annoyed as she tore herself away from her enthusiastic interrogation of the Ravenclaw girl I'd brought along. "Ugh, Luna… promise you'll tell me more next time about that newspaper your dad publishes."
"Tori! Watch your language," Daphne hissed instantly, using a nickname that still felt unfamiliar to me—though everyone else seemed to like it. Even Pansy had started calling Astoria that. "And yes, we should go. After dinner, remember, you still have Transfiguration homework."
"Hmph! As if it's that hard," the younger witch pouted, not yet understanding how cruel that subject could become. Early-year confidence and good home tutoring made Astoria dismiss essays and reports.
"That's what you think now. We'll see you crying in two or three months," Daphne continued scolding her sister, and her awkward concern amused me.
I should probably hint to Daphne that being so direct rarely works with younger sisters. And it wouldn't hurt to teach Astoria a few tricks for dealing with homework quickly either. If you don't want to sleep through Binns's History, you can always write Potions or Charms homework instead—saves an absurd amount of time.
"Though Transfiguration doesn't work that way. McGonagall loves assigning extra reading you'd have to bring to History in advance…" I mulled it over as we headed toward the Great Hall, letting my mind drift slightly away from the witches' cheerful bickering.
"Kill-sss… let me kill-sss!" a hissing voice—almost not a voice at all—suddenly slid into my mind, chilling me to the bone. My ears heard nothing, but the words stamped themselves into my awareness along with a clear… desire to kill.
"Fucking hell," I cursed under my breath, the shock hitting me before I could stop it. It wasn't every day your consciousness got slammed by something like that—especially when you weren't ready for it.
"Harry? Something wrong?" the Slytherins stared at me, startled and worried. I hadn't expected that outburst either, and I reacted slowly—but still managed to pull myself together.
"Khm. Sorry… I just suddenly remembered I left something unfinished," I lied, forcing my heartbeat down and silently thanking my earlier recklessness for pushing me into Occlumency last year. Without mental magic, I wouldn't have recovered so fast.
"It must be very important if you're swearing in front of my sister," Daphne narrowed her eyes, not quite believing me, hiding worry behind her concern for Astoria. Astoria didn't need to hear that kind of language. Still, Daphne held back, and Draco and the others, reading my mood, didn't press me with questions.
So we reached the Great Hall, and I finally felt a little calmer—while also making sure Luna Lovegood sat right next to me at the table.
That technically bent a school rule: younger students were supposed to sit closer to the staff table and older students farther down, nearer the doors. But nobody enforced it very strictly. So it was easy to make my point—publicly and clearly—that Luna was under my protection. The timing was perfect: Cho Chang was present, and most of the House could see Luna at my side.
"Now hardly anyone will dare to bully Luna so openly," I smirked to myself, using the thought to push down the lingering anxiety. It helped. And watching the Ravens' reactions to my new company was interesting.
It wasn't like half the table stared at us. The long table layout made open gawking difficult. But the first three years noticed. Most didn't care about Luna or me at all, but a few clearly did… either disliking it or approving.
Padma looked genuinely happy to see Luna beside me. Cho and some of her friends curled their lips in contempt. Some first-years watched Luna with envy. A few older students smirked in approval when they noticed. In short, almost normal—dinner remained calm. Only I, with my sensitivity, caught the smaller, sharper details in an ordinary scene.
It distracted me nicely and kept me from thinking too much about the fact that one shameless red-haired idiot had already let a basilisk out of the Chamber of Secrets, and at any moment could do something truly awful…
Because the story I remembered was not guaranteed to repeat exactly, and a monster of that level was not something I wanted in the hands of an eleven-year-old fool.
Luckily, nothing catastrophically bad happened this time. Ginny Weasley—just like in the films—only petrified the caretaker's cat and smeared someone's blood on a wall. Not the worst thing imaginable, but…
I needed to deal with that idiot urgently. Preferably yesterday.
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