Chapter 2
Harry frowned at his reflection in the mirror, giving his hair one last futile swipe with his palm before letting out an exasperated huff. Why had he even bothered? It wasn’t like Luna cared about how messy his hair was—or anyone else for that matter. Still, the habit was ingrained, a reflex born from years of Aunt Petunia scolding him for looking “like a little ragamuffin.”
Get a grip, he told himself sternly, shaking his head as if to physically dislodge the pointless thought. He grabbed his gloves and jammed them into his pocket, then turned on his heel and headed back downstairs. The Fat Lady’s portrait swung shut behind him with a soft creak, and there was Luna, waiting patiently by the entrance, her radish earrings swinging gently as she hummed tunelessly under her breath.
“Ready?” she asked brightly, her wide eyes meeting his. She didn’t seem remotely fazed by the wait, nor did she show any sign of impatience. If anything, she looked delighted, as though Harry joining her for this impromptu expedition was the most natural thing in the world.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Harry muttered, pulling his cloak tighter around himself as they stepped out into the drafty corridor. The air here was cooler than the cozy warmth of the common room.
They walked side by side in companionable silence, their footsteps echoing faintly against the stone floors. Harry couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly Luna navigated the hallways, her movements light and unhurried despite the late hour. Every now and then, she would pause to inspect something—a peculiar crack in the wall, a flickering torch sconce—and Harry found himself slowing down too, curious despite himself.
“So…” he began after a while, breaking the quiet. “Winged Kokopellis, huh? What exactly are they supposed to do again?”
“Oh, they’re quite fascinating,” Luna replied without missing a beat, her voice taking on that dreamy yet oddly confident tone she always used when discussing magical creatures no one else seemed to believe in. “Their glow is said to ward off Wrackspurts during the winter solstice. You wouldn’t want those buzzing around your ears—they make thinking impossible.”
Harry raised an eyebrow but decided against questioning her further. There was something oddly soothing about Luna’s unwavering belief in things others dismissed as nonsense. In a way, it reminded him of Hagrid—both possessed a kind of unshakable faith in the unseen, the misunderstood. And honestly, after everything Harry had been through, who was he to say what was real and what wasn’t?
Harry stood at the bottom of the staircase, his cheeks still flushed from the internal scolding he’d given himself in front of the mirror. He felt ridiculous—like a first-year nervous about impressing someone. But this was Luna, for Merlin’s sake. She wasn’t exactly the type to care whether his hair lay flat or stuck up in every direction like a startled hedgehog. If anything, she’d probably find it amusing.
Still, the heat lingered on his face as he watched her from across the corridor. Luna was standing before an old tapestry, her head tilted curiously as though trying to decipher some hidden meaning in its intricate patterns.
“Find anything interesting?” Harry asked, breaking the silence as he approached her.
Luna turned to him, her wide eyes lighting up with genuine enthusiasm. “Oh yes! This tapestry has been whispering secrets to me.”
Harry blinked, momentarily thrown off balance. “Whispering… secrets?”
“Well,” she said matter-of-factly, gesturing toward the faded figures woven into the fabric, “it’s not so much whispering as humming quietly. I think it might be warning us about the Horklumps nesting in the dungeons.”
“The… Horklumps?” Harry repeated, unable to stop himself from smiling slightly despite his confusion. Leave it to Luna to turn a dusty old tapestry into a source of mysterious intrigue.
“Yes,” Luna replied earnestly, nodding. “They’re quite territorial, you know. Best to avoid them unless you have a bucket of pickled Turnipweed handy.”
Harry chuckled softly under his breath, shaking his head. “Of course they are. How silly of me to forget.”
For a moment, they simply stood there, Harry leaning casually against the wall while Luna continued to study the tapestry. As Harry glanced at Luna again, he couldn’t help but feel grateful for her company. There was no pressure with her—no expectations, no awkward silences filled with unspoken emotions. With Ron and Hermione wrapped up in their own world, and everyone else seemingly obsessed with snogging, Luna was refreshingly different. Her eccentricities were oddly grounding, a reminder that life didn’t always have to make perfect sense.
And yet… why had he bothered flattening his hair? Why did he suddenly feel self-conscious about how he looked? It wasn’t as if Luna would judge him—or even notice, really. She accepted people exactly as they were, without pretense or condition. That was part of what made her such a good friend.
But maybe that was the problem. Maybe it wasn’t just friendship he was thinking about right now.
Harry shook his head sharply, banishing the thought before it could take root. No. That was absurd. He didn’t fancy Luna—not in the slightest. They were friends, nothing more.
He tried to focus on the tapestry, but the grotesque images made his stomach churn. The vivid colors of blood-red and gold only heightened the unsettling effect, each thread meticulously woven to depict scenes of violence that seemed out of place in the otherwise serene corridor.
“Er—no,” Harry admitted, forcing himself to look closer despite the queasiness rising in his throat. “It looks… uh, disturbing.”
Luna didn’t seem bothered by the gore at all. Instead, her wide eyes sparkled with an almost feverish excitement, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “This is the *Tapestry of Tragedy*, Harry. It’s said to foretell dark events if you know how to read it properly.”
“The Tapestry of… what?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. He glanced around uneasily, half-expecting Filch or Mrs. Norris to appear and accuse them.
“I’m not entirely sure yet,” Luna replied thoughtfully, tilting her head as though trying to decipher some hidden code. “But I think it might be connected to the Wrackspurts gathering near the lake. They’re usually drawn to places where bad things are about to happen.”
Harry stared at her, torn between amusement and unease. Wrackspurts again. Of course. Still, there was something oddly compelling about the intensity in her voice, the way she seemed completely absorbed in her explanation.
"Do you have any idea what this is?" Luna asked, her voice tinged with awe as she gestured dramatically toward the tapestry.
Harry hesitated, glancing at the intricate but gruesome images. "No," he admitted, his tone cautious. He immediately regretted it when Luna turned to him, her wide eyes filled with disbelief, as though he'd just confessed to never hearing of Quidditch or chocolate frogs.
"It is," Luna said dreamily, spinning around in a slow circle, her arms outstretched like she was conducting some invisible orchestra, "the accounts of the fall of Lady Van Thournout, the love of Gryffindor himself."
Harry blinked, his frown deepening. The name sounded vaguely familiar, like something Professor Binns might've droned on about during History of Magic while half the class dozed off. "I thought that was a myth," he said.
Luna fixed him with a solemn look, her ethereal demeanor replaced by an almost professorial seriousness. "It’s not a myth, Harry. Lady Van Thournout was real, and her story is woven into these threads. Look—" She pointed to a particularly vivid panel where a woman stood alone on a cliff, her face streaked with tears as lightning crackled behind her. "This is when she realized Gryffindor had been cursed by a rival wizard. She gave up everything—her family, her magic—to save him, but in the end..." Her voice trailed off, heavy with meaning.
He tugged gently at Luna’s arm, eager to move on before she launched into another lecture about ancient curses or haunted embroidery. "Come on, let's go find your Kokopelli thing," he suggested, nodding toward the exit. "Before we freeze to death "
Luna blinked, snapping out of her reverie. For a moment, she looked torn between continuing her analysis of the tapestry and following Harry. Then, with a small shrug, she smiled brightly. "Alright. But don’t underestimate the importance of understanding history, Harry"
Luna, bless her, seemed utterly unfazed by the labyrinthine journey through Hogwarts’ hidden passageways. Her attention span may have been fleeting, but her enthusiasm was boundless—and infectious. As Harry slipped behind a tapestry to reveal a narrow secret corridor, she clapped her hands in delight, marveling at every creaky step and swinging panel as though it were all part of some grand adventure.
“This is wonderful!” she exclaimed softly, her voice echoing faintly off the stone walls. “I’ve always wondered how you Gryffindors manage to sneak around so easily. The Ravenclaw common room is far too logical for this kind of thing.”
Harry smirked, pushing open a trick door that groaned in protest. “Yeah, well, we like to keep things interesting.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, amused by the way she inspected each new passage with wide-eyed curiosity. For someone who believed in Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and Nargles, Luna had an uncanny knack for making even the mundane seem magical.
The massive oak doors loomed ahead, .“Ready?” he asked, glancing at her. She nodded eagerly, her bobble hat wobbling precariously atop her head.
With a firm push, Harry swung the heavy doors open, and the cold night air rushed in like a tidal wave. Snow crunched beneath their boots as they stepped outside, the vast expanse of the grounds stretching before them under a blanket of pristine white.
“You sure about this?” he asked, tugging his scarf higher up his neck. “It’s bloody freezing out there.”
“Oh yes. The colder, the better. Winged Kokopellis thrive in frosty conditions. Besides,” she added with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “it’ll give you an excuse to wear that lovely scarf Hermione knitted you last year.”
Harry blinked, caught off guard. “How did you—”
“I notice things,” Luna said simply, shrugging.
Luna took the lead now, her movements light and unhurried as she trudged through the snow toward the lake. Harry followed close behind, his gloved hands shoved deep into his pockets to ward off the biting chill.
“The Kokopelli really enjoy nesting here,” Luna said dreamily, gesturing toward the frozen surface of the lake. Its icy sheen reflected the starlight, shimmering faintly like liquid glass. “They’re drawn to quiet places where they can hum without interruption.”
The cold had seeped so deeply into Harry’s bones that he could barely feel his fingers anymore, though the tingling sensation in his hand where Luna had grabbed it lingered stubbornly.
“This is where we wait,” Luna said matter-of-factly, her voice calm despite the biting wind whipping around them. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, but she didn’t seem bothered by it.
He glanced around nervously. “Are you sure this is safe?”
“Oh yes,” Luna replied serenely, not even sparing him a glance. “The Winged Kokopelli prefer open spaces, and the ice here is strong enough to hold us. Besides, they’re shy creatures—if they sense fear or doubt, they won’t come.”
“Right,” Harry muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes despite himself
“Where exactly does it nest?” Harry asked, his teeth beginning to chatter as another icy gust swept across the lake. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, though it did little to shield him from the relentless cold.
“On the lake,” Luna said simply, her voice almost melodic as she lay back onto the snow-covered ice, her arms spread wide like she was embracing the sky. She closed her eyes, a serene smile playing on her lips as the falling snow dusted her cheeks and eyelashes.
Harry stared at her, momentarily forgetting the biting chill. There was something different about her today—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Her silvery-blonde hair, usually wild and untamed, lay smoother against her shoulders, catching the pale morning light in a way that made it shimmer faintly. Her skin glowed softly beneath the thin layer of frost clinging to her scarf, and her lips… well, they were definitely redder than usual, though whether from the cold or some other reason, Harry couldn’t tell.
He blinked, shaking his head slightly. Pretty? No, he wasn’t going there. This was Luna, after all. Sweet, quirky Luna who believed in invisible creatures and wore radish earrings without a second thought. But still… as he peered closer, studying her peaceful expression, he couldn’t deny that she looked—well, beautiful.
And then there was the Butterbeer cork necklace, resting snugly against her chest. Thank Merlin for that; seeing it brought a sense of normalcy back to the moment. Without thinking, Harry reached out and touched it lightly, his gloved fingers brushing against the worn cork.
Luna didn’t open her eyes, but she shifted slightly under his touch, her breathing steady and calm. The movement snapped Harry out of his daze, and he quickly withdrew his hand, heat rushing to his face despite the freezing temperature. What was he doing? Why had he even touched her necklace? He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking away as he tried to focus on anything else
Harry glanced at her again, noting how relaxed she seemed, completely unfazed by the absurdity of their mission
Maybe the Winged Kokopelli weren’t real. Maybe this entire outing was nothing more than a product of Luna’s vivid imagination. But as Harry sat there beside her, listening to the quiet hum of the frozen lake and the soft rhythm of her breathing, he found himself hoping—for her sake—that they were.
“Are you sure it’s safe out here?” Harry asked again, his voice tinged with skepticism as he shifted uncomfortably on the icy surface. The cold seeped through his gloves, and he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that sitting in the middle of a frozen lake was just asking for trouble. “I mean… what if it breaks? What if we fall through?”
“No,” Luna repeated calmly, cracking one eye open to regard him with an almost amused expression. “Dumbledore doesn’t expect us to stay off the lake, so he charms it.”
Harry blinked at her, his brow furrowing. “He… charms it?”
“Yes,” she said matter-of-factly, closing her eye again as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. “Every winter. He knows students will want to skate or walk on it, so he makes sure it’s strong enough to hold even Hagrid.”
“Oh,” Harry managed, feeling both reassured and slightly foolish for not having considered that possibility. Of course Dumbledore would think of something like that.
Harry hesitated for a moment, then slowly lay back on the icy surface next to Luna, his movements stiff and deliberate. The cold seeped through his cloak, biting at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the strange warmth spreading through him as their shoulders touched.
“So…” Harry began, his voice cracking awkwardly like a prepubescent boy’s. He cleared his throat quickly, trying again. “Why did you ask me to come out here?”
“You were lonely,” Luna replied simply, her tone casual, as though stating an obvious fact. “And so was I.”
“I was not,” Harry said brusquely, though the lie tasted bitter even as he spoke it.
“No need to be boorish,” Luna snapped, surprising him with the sharpness in her voice. For a brief moment, she sounded alarmingly like Hermione when she was scolding Ron for being thick-headed.
Harry blinked, taken aback. “I’m not being—” he started defensively, but stopped himself, realizing how childish he sounded.
“Sorry,” he murmured. He turned his head slightly, tilting it just enough to study Luna’s profile without seeming too obvious about it.
“It’s just…” Harry hesitated, searching for the right words. How could he explain the hollow ache in his chest, the frustration of being left behind. Instead, he settled for something simpler. “How did you know I was lonely? I mean, Ron and Hermione have gone off snogging, so I guess you could’ve deduced that, being a Ravenclaw…” He shook his head dismissively, his voice tinged with self-deprecating humor. “Stupid question.”
“No, it’s not,” Luna said softly, her dreamy tone returning as she turned her head toward him. Their faces were suddenly much closer than Harry had anticipated. “I just knew,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “Female intuition, I suppose…”
Harry froze, his pulse quickening at their proximity. Nose-to-nose wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined this conversation going—or any conversation, really. He swallowed hard, his throat dry despite the chill in the air. “Right,” he managed, his voice cracking slightly under the strain of trying to sound casual. “Intuition.”
Willpower, Harry thought savagely, as Luna’s gloved hand accidentally brushed against his arm. The contact was brief and likely unintentional, but it sent a jolt of electricity coursing through him all the same. He clenched his jaw, mentally scolding himself. Do not yield. All this romance nonsense was overrated anyway—wasn’t that what he’d been telling himself all week?
But then why did his chest feel so tight every time he looked at her?
His lips were numb from the frosty air, yet somehow Luna’s remained red and inviting—a stark contrast to the pale winter landscape surrounding them.
Harry groaned inwardly, the urge to press his frozen lips to hers—to steal some of her warmth—growing stronger with every second they sat there. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not with Luna. Cripes, Potter, he thought angrily, shaking his head slightly as if to physically dislodge the traitorous thoughts. If you’re going to lose your mind over someone, at least pick someone else. Someone… normal.
He glanced tentatively at Luna, who had closed her eyes again, her breathing slow and steady as though she were perfectly content to sit there forever. She looked almost otherworldly against the backdrop of snow and ice. Beautiful, even.
His inner voice scoffed at him. Follow your brain, not your damn heart, it sneered. You’ve got enough problems without adding “Potter Marries Loony Lovegood” to the list of headlines five years from now.
Luna wasn’t “loony,” not really. She was just… different. And maybe that was part of the problem. In a world where everyone expected him to be the Chosen One, the hero, the savior, Luna accepted him exactly as he was—flaws and all. No judgment, no pressure, no expectations beyond simple friendship. Wasn’t that what he needed most right now?
“I think we should start looking for it…” Luna said suddenly
He nodded quickly, scrambling to his feet with more urgency than grace. The movement sent a fresh spray of snow cascading down his legs, and he brushed at it absently while extending a hand to help Luna up. As their gloved fingers touched briefly, he felt that same jolt of awareness from earlier, only this time it left him even more tongue-tied.
Luna, bless her, seemed completely unfazed by his sudden lack of eloquence. She chattered away happily.
“Are you alright?” Luna asked softly, breaking into his spiraling thoughts.
Harry swallowed hard, his throat dry despite the chill in the air. “Just a bit cold,”
Luna nodded thoughtfully, her expression softening further. Without hesitation, she reached for the edges of her oversized cloak, pulling them wide like wings before stepping closer to him. Before Harry could process what was happening, she wrapped the fabric snugly around both of them, creating a makeshift cocoon that enveloped them in shared warmth. Her arms slipped loosely around his middle, her hands clasping together behind his back as she leaned in slightly.
“You could get—” she paused here, taking a deep breath, her cheeks flushed pink from either the cold or proximity, though Harry couldn’t tell which—“frostbite in this weather.”
For a moment, Harry forgot how to breathe.
Harry was awfully aware of the way Luna fit perfectly against him, her slight frame pressing into his chest. Through layers of cloaks and clothes, he could feel the warmth radiating from her body, a stark contrast to the biting cold around them. Her average-sized breasts pressed gently against him as she leaned in closer
He realized then how tightly he was holding her, his grip almost desperate as though afraid she might slip away if he loosened even slightly. But instead of letting go, Harry pulled her closer, savoring the sensation of having her there—in his arms, safe and warm despite the freezing air.
You should be worrying about what everyone’s going to think of you after this, a nagging voice inside his head chimed in, sharp and critical. Imagine the rumors. Imagine the headlines: “Potter Snogs Loony Lovegood.” How will you explain yourself?
No, he thought fiercely, pushing back against the doubt. This wasn’t about anyone else. It shouldn’t matter who fancied whom or what people thought. If they couldn’t understand, then that was their problem, not his.
As a matter of fact, screw them
“Thank you,” he murmured softly, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke. Whether he was thanking her for the warmth, the comfort, or simply for being there, he wasn’t sure. But Luna didn’t ask for clarification. Instead, she smiled faintly, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around his back.
Tiny, glowing orbs hovered above the frost-covered reeds near the edge of the lake, their soft light pulsing gently like fireflies caught in slow motion. They hummed faintly, the sound blending seamlessly with the rustle of wind through the trees and the distant hoot of an owl.
Luna gasped softly, her eyes widening with pure joy. “There they are!” she whispered, her voice filled with awe. She stepped back slightly, breaking their makeshift cocoon but leaving one hand resting lightly on his arm as she pointed toward the glowing creatures. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold—or perhaps excitement—and her lips were still red, almost impossibly so against her pale skin.
Harry watched her, momentarily distracted from the Kokopelli themselves. The way her face lit up, the genuine happiness radiating off her in waves—it was mesmerizing. And those lips… he still wanted to kiss her, more than ever now. But he hesitated, afraid of ruining the delicate balance between them.
Instead, he forced himself to focus on the moment, smiling softly as Luna turned to him, her expression brimming with delight. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” she asked, tilting her head slightly as though inviting him to share in her wonder.
“They are,” Harry agreed, though his gaze lingered less on the glowing orbs and more on her. He cleared his throat awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out to her again. “Thanks for bringing me here, Luna. I… I really needed this.”
She smiled warmly, her wide eyes meeting his with that uncanny ability to see straight through him. “I’m glad you came, Harry. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s just for a little while.”
The sincerity in her voice made his chest tighten, and for a moment, he considered saying something—anything—to bridge the gap between them. But before he could find the words, she took a step back, brushing snowflakes from her cloak as she glanced toward the castle. “We should probably head back. It’s getting late.”
Harry nodded reluctantly, following her lead as they began the trek across the snowy grounds
By the time they reached the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower, the air inside the castle seemed almost unbearably warm compared to the biting chill outside.
“This is me,” Luna said brightly, stopping in front of the eagle-shaped knocker. She turned to face him, her bobble hat slightly askew and her cheeks still rosy from the cold. Without warning, she leaned in and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for coming with me today, Harry.”
Harry blinked, startled by the gesture, his fingers instinctively rising to touch the spot where her lips had been. His face flushed hot despite the lingering chill, watching as she started to turn toward the door.
“Wait—Luna?” he called suddenly, his voice cracking slightly. She paused, turning back to look at him with a curious tilt of her head. “Do you… I mean, would you want to explore like this again sometime? Maybe not for Kokopelli, but…”
He trailed off, feeling ridiculous even as he said it. But Luna’s face broke into a wide, radiant smile, erasing any trace of doubt. “I’d love to,” she said simply, her tone dreamy yet sincere. “Goodnight, Harry.”
And with that, she disappeared inside, leaving Harry standing alone in the corridor, his heart racing and his mind buzzing with possibilities. For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t feel quite so alone.