Serperet Gaudi
On reflection, Luna had to admit that lugging a large potted sapling up a hundred stone stairs without assistance was a bad idea. If term had already started she could have asked a couple of year sixes to help her out. Or a few first years? Then again, Professor Sprout had requested she take good care of the fledgling tree: exposure to raging hormones or unbridled anxiety was almost certainly the last thing it needed. Had it been less sensitive to magic she could have levitated it up to her room, but a few hours earlier Sprout had sternly shaken her head at Luna’s suggestion that they cast a diagnostic to find out why the poor thing was still so frail and small.
“That’s the thing with SG, Miss Lovegood,” Sprout had explained, “it is affected, indeed directed by, hungry for emotion. Magic, drawing as it does on our emotions for its efficacy, confuses it at the best of times. What this tree needs is good old-fashioned care and consistency. I believe it will do very well with you.”
As she rounded the final turn of the staircase (just ten more steps to go), Luna heard voices up ahead. If she wasn’t mistaken, it seemed her remaining roommates had finally arrived. And were already bickering.
“Listen Miss Gryffindor, I don’t know what you want me to say. However shocking that you weren’t personally consulted by McGonagall over these appointments, here we both are.” Yes, Luna thought, that teasing tone and perfect diction could only belong to Draco Malfoy.
“Ha! As usual you have missed the point. I don’t expect to be consulted on anything, I’m merely shocked that you’ve returned to a place of education when as far as I can tell you’re convinced you already know everything.” And that, Luna concluded, could only be the fierce reply of Hermione Granger.
“Hello?” Luna called out towards the voices up ahead, unable to see past the large pot cradled in her arms.
“How could I pass up an opportunity to spend more time with you, Granger? Perhaps this will be the year your righteous indignation causes you to finally spontaneously combust. I’d hate to miss that.”
“Righteous indignation?! Don’t make out that caring for this school is some flaw in my character Malfoy. I know it’s a foreign concept for you but caring for things other than oneself isn’t typically considered a fault.”
“Hello?” Luna tried again, willing herself not to drop the sapling having made it this far (now just five steps to go). She could only imagine the havoc a repotting would wreak on its frail constitution.
“Granger,” she heard Draco drawl, “have you already exhausted me to the point of hallucination or do you too see a plant pot with legs making its way up the stairs?”
“Luna?”, Hermione ventured, still hidden from view, until suddenly Luna’s load lightened, the pot moved aside and her schoolmates’ bemused faces appeared instead. Hermione’s arms appeared to be full of Crookshanks, but Draco’s were now wrapped around Luna’s Herbology coursework.
“Thanks Draco!” Luna beamed, straightening her dress from the climb and gathering her hair into a topknot which she secured by spearing her wand straight through the middle. “Hot work carrying an emotional tree all the way to our dorm.”
“An emotional… tree?” Draco raised his eyebrow and peered down at the feeble sapling.
“Yes.” Luna nodded. “It’s very sensitive to feelings.”
Hermione smiled. “It should be alright with Malfoy then. He tends to be unfeeling.”
Draco narrowed his eyes at Hermione and sent her a thin smirk then directed his attention back to Luna. “When did you get here?”
“Yesterday. My Dad had promised to visit a friend and I didn’t much fancy being home alone, plus Sprout had already sent an owl asking I come and collect S-“ Luna corrected herself mid-sentence, deciding not to tell her roommates too much “-ome specimen when I get a chance, which turned out to be this tree.” She motioned at the pot. “When did you two arrive?”
Draco looked over at their luggage then back to Luna, answering with an isn’t-it-obvious “Just now. Luna can’t you use a spell to hold up your hair instead of the wand itself?”
“Well, safety first. Last week I wasn’t concentrating and used fimere comae instead of figerecomae. Gave my poor Dad an awful shock. Lucky I was distracted though: my aim was off so I just lost a bit.” Luna twirled a chunk of hair in her fingers. It had already worked its way loose from her topknot; these strands were considerably shorter than the rest of her hairdo and ended in the blunt frazzles typical of singed hair.
“Oh dear.” Hermione said, leaning closer to Luna to inspect the damage but straightening again as Crookshanks, pressed between the two, wiggled in protest.
“Shall we go inside?” Luna asked. “You’ll be wanting to get settled.”
“Lead on.” Draco agreed, still balancing the unwieldy pot but motioning towards the doors of the dormitory as best he could.
Luna stepped forwards as the large double doors creaked open and Ernest Macmillan emerged. He was a little taller than Hermione remembered, and lean and tanned, as if he’d spent his summer surfing, which would also explain his longer blond hair that fell in windswept waves to his shoulders.
“I thought I heard voices!” He said. “Welcome back.”
“Hello Ernie.” Hermione smiled. “Good to see you. Congratulations on making Head Prefect.”
“Thanks Hermione, same to you. Same to all of us!” Ernie smiled warmly. “Anyone for tea?”
“Yes please,” Hermione agreed, “I’d love a tea.”
Ernie nodded. “Super. Draco? Luna?”
Luna shook her head and looked over at the sapling with obvious concern. “None for me thanks Ernie. I just drank most of a pot with Sprout. But I’ll join you all as soon as I’ve settled the tree in, poor thing must be quite overwhelmed with all these new people to feel.”
Ernie shot a confused look towards Draco who replied with raised eyebrows and a shake of his head. “Best not to ask. Any Earl Grey going?”
“One Earl Grey, absolutely. I wasn’t sure of favourites so I brought a few different varieties, just in case.”
“Of course you did. Considerate to a fault.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Funny the things people consider to be faults in others,” she said, carrying Crookshanks through the doors. “Anything’s fine for me, Ernie,” she called, disappearing into the common room.
Draco’s lips thinned. “I assume hexing a fellow Head Prefect is forbidden?” he wondered aloud.
“I imagine it’s almost certainly frowned upon,” Ernie commiserated, levitating the remaining luggage inside and closing the doors behind them.
=======
“And another thing,” Hermione said, gesticulating wildly, “what was that about rooming with me?!”
Luna didn’t bother attempting a reply, having realized five minutes ago that Hermione was there to talk at Luna rather than with Luna, whose official role seemed to be that of Good Listener.
“Any questions about the Head Prefect role? Or perhaps concerns about your accommodations Mr Malfoy?” Luna smiled, Hermione did a passable impression of McGonagall, though somewhat exaggerated.
“No questions so far, Professor, and my only concern regarding the shared dormitory is that Miss Granger and I may be inclined to argue.” Luna chuckled; Hermione’s impression of Draco was less accurate than her McGonagall but no less amusing, especially given her dramatic reenactment of Draco’s facial expressions. “That makes it sound like I’m somehow provoking this madness!”
Luna raised her eyebrows as Hermione paced back and forth in front of the bathtub for the hundredth time.
“Don’t look at me like that Luna, I’ve got no interest in fighting with Malfoy, I just can’t bear to stand idly by and let him be so… disgustingly himself all the time with no one nudging him back into his box!”
Hermione sat down on the edge of the bathtub and sighed. She crossed her legs, stretched one arm across the bubbling water to hold the tub for support and pointed the other accusatorially at Luna as she spoke. “This is not my doing.”
Luna realized the time had come to voice an opinion. “Hermione,” she began, holding her hands up out of the water in mock surrender, “I don’t think this is all you. But Draco isn’t bickering with himself either, is he?”
Hermione snorted but allowed Luna to continue.
“And as for him being too himself… I’m not sure you can level that at him as a grave offense… who else is he supposed to be?”
Luna dipped her head to catch Hermione’s eye. “I’m not saying you two need to be best friends,” she decided to let Hermione’s dramatic eye roll slide without comment, “but you don’t need to be mortal enemies either. A lot has happened to us all. And now we have a chance to be…”
“Normal?” Hermione offered, her tone making it clear that she doubted that would be possible.
“Students.” Luna said. “We have a chance to worry about lessons and coursework. Maybe even our love lives.” Hermione scoffed, then frowned and looked at Luna a little more closely as if to check that in her rage she hadn’t overlooked a promise ring or perhaps a boyfriend sitting with her in the bathtub.
“If nothing else, think of the Wrackspurts. They love drama. They’ll be all over our dorm if we’re not careful and that’s the last thing we need with N.E.W.T.s approaching.” Luna’s look was so serious Hermione resisted the urge to scoff. “We’ve only just come out of a terrible war. Can’t we try and keep the peace?”
Hermione swallowed and nodded. Perhaps she wasn’t seeing things as clearly as she thought. If Luna was trying to move on after everything she’d been through, after everything her father had been through… surely Hermione could try and do the same. “Ok. You’re right. Sorry Luna.”
Luna smiled brightly. “That’s alright.” Luna sank a little deeper into the water. “I’ve never had a bath with a friend before. It’s quite entertaining.”
Hermione smiled and let her fingers drift along the marbled surface of the bubbles until Luna’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. “And if Draco really drives you wild I won’t stop you from stuffing him back into his carton.”
“Stuffing him… oh putting him back in his box, Luna.” Hermione laughed in spite of herself, letting it roll to a real laugh, the first in weeks. Laughing with a friend, that felt… good. She returned Luna’s smile. “Thanks Luna, this was… helpful. I’ll try. Enjoy the rest of your bath. I’ll leave you in peace.” She hopped down from the bathtub and padded to her door, closing it gently behind her.
Luna looked over at the sapling, stationed in the girls’ bathroom until she had a chance to properly unpack and create a calm environment for it in her bedroom. While Hermione had ranted it had curled its little leaves and wilted as if to cower, and now, emboldened by Hermione’s laugh and the resulting calm it began to unfurl itself and straighten a little. “Well SG,” Luna said, addressing it directly, “it looks like we’ll have our work cut out for us this term.” Serperet Gaudi, to creep with joy. Luna turned the ancient words over in her mind like smooth pebbles. “Let’s creep forwards together, shall we?” And as she tipped her head back and began to slip under the surface of the water, she was sure she saw the very top of the tree give a tiny, cautious nod.