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HP Chapter 111: Luna Lovegood
🕑 Added 2025-10-01 13:54:40 +0000 UTCSeptember 1st, King's Cross Station.
Anne stood on the platform with her left arm in a sling. Aaron carried her trunk, and Diana had come to see her off, helping pin the Prefect badge to her robes.
It was still early, and the platform wasn’t crowded yet. Diana reminded Anne of a few things to be mindful of.
Once Diana finished, Aaron boarded the train first, hauling Anne’s trunk into the third carriage. He was scanning for an empty compartment to place it in. Anne and Diana followed him aboard.
“Anne, did you have a good summer?” came a dreamy voice.
A girl stood at the door of a compartment. She had waist-length, wild, golden-blonde hair, extremely pale eyebrows, and eyes that bulged slightly, giving her a perpetually surprised expression. There was an undeniable air of eccentricity about her, maybe it was the wand tucked behind her left ear for “safety,” or the necklace made of butterbeer corks she was wearing.
“Ah, Luna! Hello,” Anne greeted with a warm smile. “Yes, I had a very pleasant summer. Let me introduce you, this is my godfather, Uncle Aaron, and my aunt, Diana.” Then she turned to her relatives and added, “This is Luna Lovegood. She's a year below me in Ravenclaw.”
Luna drifted toward them, still looking slightly unfocused. She held a rolled-up issue of The Quibbler in one hand and stared intently at Anne’s bandaged arm.
“Hello…” she said softly.
Aaron greeted her politely, while Diana smiled and said, “It’s nice to know Anne has a friend in Ravenclaw. Her mother and I both graduated from there. How’s Lady Grey doing these days?”
Luna turned her gaze to Diana and nodded blankly. “She’s fine. Still enjoys floating around the Ravenclaw tower.”
Seeing Aaron’s slightly puzzled look, Anne quickly interjected, “Aaron, just put my trunk in Luna’s compartment. You two still have to get to work, and it's almost time, isn’t it?”
Aaron nodded, carried the trunk inside, and placed it down. Luna continued to stare curiously at Anne’s arm.
When he returned, Anne said her goodbyes to Diana and Aaron, waving with her good hand. Then she stepped into the compartment and slid the door shut behind her.
Luna sat by the window, flipping open The Quibbler, her eyes still focused on Anne’s injured arm.
Anne sat across from her, sitting straight-backed. She lifted her bandaged arm slightly. “This? It happened two days ago, a failed experiment.”
Luna placed the upside-down magazine on her lap and blinked, her eyes growing wider. In that distant, dreamy voice, she said, “My mum died when I was nine because of a spell gone wrong during an experiment.”
“I’m sorry…” Anne said quietly.
Luna shook her head. “It was scary, but it doesn’t mean I’ll never see her again. She’s just in a place my eyes can’t reach… like Wrackspurts. You can’t see them either, but they’re real.”
“I agree,” Anne said sincerely. “Maybe she exists in a better, freer form now… or perhaps she’s living a much happier life somewhere else.”
Luna nodded and went back to reading her magazine upside down.
Anne pulled a thin booklet from her bag and started reading too. She had first met Luna on the Hogwarts Express during third year, right after the Christmas holidays. Anne had fallen asleep on the train, and Luna had woken her up.
Since then, she’d often see Luna around the castle in odd places, either looking for something, wearing those colorful glasses searching for Wrackspurts, or sitting cross-legged on the floor reading The Quibbler.
Over time, Anne had gotten used to her presence and would occasionally strike up a conversation. It wasn’t until later that she learned her name. After that, talking with Luna felt much easier.
The two sat quietly reading in the compartment as students passed by in the hallway.
A glance at her watch told Anne it was almost time for the train to depart. She needed to head to the Prefects’ carriage for orientation. Closing her book, she tucked it into her bag and gave Luna a small smile.
“Luna, I need to go to the Prefects’ meeting, it’ll take about an hour. Could you save me the window seat while I’m gone? I like sitting there.”
Luna looked up from her upside-down magazine. “Sure. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Anne said, opening the compartment door and stepping out. She closed it gently behind her.
The Prefects’ carriage was at the front of the train, an entire carriage reserved as one large compartment. When Anne walked in, several students were already there, including the Head Boy and Girl.
She nodded politely to the two sixth-year Slytherin prefects and found a seat in the corner. Pulling out her booklet again, she started to read.
“Well, well, look who it is, Anne Stokke? Doesn’t look so great, does she? First day of school and already injured? What happened, did you wrestle a troll over the summer? Or did your uncle from the ‘Protect Useless Creatures’ Department not help you?” Malfoy’s voice rang out smugly.
Anne didn’t even glance up. She spoke slowly and clearly, “Anne Roland Stokke, Malfoy. Might want to work on that memory of yours. And slandering a high-ranking Ministry official while insulting a legitimate department’s name? Not very clever. I should also remind you that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is the third largest division in the Ministry. No matter how much your father donates, they probably don’t appreciate being called the ‘Useless Creatures Department.’”
Malfoy tried to fire back with a few more words, but Anne gave him a look like she couldn’t be bothered arguing with someone so idiotic. She returned to her reading. Malfoy, red in the face, huffed and stalked off to the far end of the compartment, muttering threats under his breath.
Just as Anne read another line, the Hogwarts Express let out a long whistle from the front of the train.
At the same moment, the compartment door slid open again.
“Anne?” came an excited voice.
Hermione nearly ran over and plopped into the seat beside her.
“What happened to your hand?” she asked, looking at Anne’s arm like she could read the injury with her eyes.
“Oh? The person who hasn’t contacted me in nearly a month suddenly cares?” Anne replied, sharper than she meant.
“What? Anne, are you mad at me? You must be mad. I know I should’ve written, but I wasn’t home. I was… somewhere else. I swore not to tell anyone where.” Hermione’s voice was filled with guilt.
“Oh really?” Anne said coolly. “And did the person you swore to also say you couldn’t contact anyone?”
“I…” Hermione faltered. “No.”
“Right. I thought so,” Anne said flatly, shutting her book and sliding it back into her bag.
“Anne, ” Hermione stood up with her, tears welling in her eyes.
Anne saw her face and knew she was being unfair. Hermione hadn’t done anything wrong. This had to be tied to Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix.
But for once, Anne let her emotions lead.
She took a step, paused, glanced sideways at Hermione, then walked over to stand near the Head Boy and Girl.
Hermione followed close behind, clearly not planning to leave Anne’s side.
The rest of the prefects were clustered by house, but Hermione stayed right behind Anne, ignoring Ron’s confused look. Her choice drew glances from other prefects.
Thankfully, the Head Boy cleared his throat and began.
“Ahem… Welcome to another school year. First, congratulations to the new fifth-year prefects: Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil from Ravenclaw, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley from Gryffindor, Draco Malfoy and Anne Roland Stokke from Slytherin, and Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff.”
“Being a prefect is a long-standing Hogwarts tradition…” the Head Girl continued, the two alternating like rehearsed.
“Your duties include patrolling the Hogwarts Express, guiding first-years after the Welcoming Feast, and helping enforce school rules. Prefects may deduct points and assign detentions within limits. However, prefects cannot dock points from each other.”
“You’ll also have the power to change your common room passwords, except Ravenclaws, of course. I doubt the enchanted bronze eagle knocker will let you override its riddles.”
The Ravenclaw prefects chuckled.
The speech went on for nearly forty minutes. Finally, they were dismissed to patrol the train.
Anne waited for the compartment to empty before walking toward the door. Only Hermione and Ron were left behind.
She moved to leave, and Hermione quickly stepped ahead to hold the door open for her.
Anne’s mouth twitched involuntarily, but she said nothing and stepped out. Hermione followed a step behind.
As they reached the junction between the second and third carriages, Ron finally spoke up.
“Are you two just gonna keep not talking to each other?”
Anne stopped and turned to face them. Hermione looked hopeful.
“And what if we are? And what if we’re not?” Anne raised an eyebrow.
Ron was stumped, but Hermione answered, “Anne, I really, really wanted to write to you. But it was hard to get owls there, and a lot happened. If you read the Daily Prophet, you’ll know Harry’s been attacked with lies and smear campaigns all summer. We were all so worried.”
“Yeah! Hermione’s right! Harry even had to go to a Ministry hearing. And Hermione, she’s been wondering since last night if she’d see you in the Prefects’ carriage,” Ron chimed in.
“Oh. So I guess it’s just me, the narrow-minded Slytherin, who’s upset that you all had someone more important to worry about,” Anne said, voice emotionless.
Hermione stepped forward until she was nearly touching Anne’s injured arm.
Anne leaned back slightly.
“Anne, you know that’s not what I meant,” Hermione said, staring into her eyes.
“Sorry, maybe I’m not as clever as you thought. That’s exactly how it sounded to me,” Anne retorted.
“Then let me say it clearly, for not-so-clever Anne,” Hermione said seriously. “To me, you matter far more than Harry does.”
Blood rushed to Anne’s head. Her mind went completely blank.
Right then, the snack trolley witch called out, “Excuse me! Could you let me through?”
Anne’s rationality snapped back.
She stepped aside, avoiding Hermione’s gaze.
“Ahem… I don’t know what you’re talking about. But if you think saying that will make me forgive you right away, forget it. I’m still mad. But I don’t want to argue right now. I’m hungry.”
She flagged down the trolley and began picking out snacks.
“What will it take for you to stop being mad?” Hermione asked, now sounding more relaxed.
“Hmm… Four more pumpkin pasties… and if you agree to three conditions, I’ll forgive you,” Anne said.
“Deal,” Hermione said instantly.
“Whoa, wait! She hasn’t even said what the conditions are yet!” Ron protested. “What if she makes you spill a secret?”
Anne shot him a glance.
“I trust Anne,” Hermione replied firmly.
“Well maybe you shouldn’t. I’m not as good as you think,” Anne muttered. “Anyway, first condition, help me carry snacks. I only have one working hand.”
Looking at the nearly half-empty trolley, it was clear Anne had bought most of it.
