A/N: Luna is a really fun character to write and I've never seen a fic where she was sorted with the snakes, so I thought, why not? She's a very mysterious person who rejects all boundaries, saying and doing whatever her inscrutable whims dictate. That could be viewed as very Slytherin indeed. This is comedy, friendship, and adventure; because Luna started at Hogwarts in 1992, it follows the general story of 'Chamber of Secrets.'
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise, I don't own. J.K. Rowling does.
CRAZY LIKE A SNAKE
I: Snakes On a Train
Dotty.
It was the first word that came to mind when Draco Malfoy saw her. Oh, there were others: distracted, thick, poor, no taste in clothes. But dotty said it best.
The girl was sitting in the train compartment across from him, unsurprisingly alone, reading a magazine as though her life depended on it. Her dirty blonde hair fell in gentle waves down her back and over her shoulders. Something straight and hard stuck out from it which, on closer inspection, was a pale yellow wand inexplicably tucked behind her left ear. Her skin was as fair and unblemished as any he'd ever seen, and when she suddenly looked up Draco found himself transfixed by two large, silvery-blue eyes that seemed to penetrate right into his brain.
"Hullo," she said dreamily.
He turned up his nose and shut the door of his compartment, sinking back into the seat with a huff.
"What did you do that for?" Pansy Parkinson protested next to him. "The trolley hasn't even come through yet and I want to buy some cauldron cakes."
"And chocolate frogs," Blaise Zabini said lazily from the seat opposite. "I still need Artemisia Lufkin and Herpo the Foul."
Draco's grey eyes flicked irritably between his two friends. They were opposite in almost every way: Pansy was short, pale, mercurial, and an average student with a talent for nasty hexes; Blaise was tall, dark, seemingly indifferent to the world around him, and earned excellent grades. But at least they were both of sound mind and honourable blood, not to mention fellow Slytherins. With them he was always in control of the situation. The prestige of the Malfoys was greater than that of the Parkinsons which in turn was greater than that of the Zabinis. Though their friendship was genuine enough, they generally deferred to him out of respect; while he could freely call them by their given names, they were obligated to use his surname only. Unless they were addressing an enemy and then it was all surnames, all the time. Pure-blood lore was rife with obscure and inconsistently observed traditions like this, and Draco took a certain pleasure in learning them all. Together they encompassed his comfort zone, his sense of place in the world.
Dotty girls who kept their wands behind their ears fell far outside of that comfort zone.
"Oh, stop whinging, both of you. If you want your sweets so badly then walk up the train and get them yourself. The door is closed because I'm not going to have that nutty bint staring at me the whole journey."
Blaise still hadn't looked up from his Transfiguration text. "Who? Mudblood Granger?"
"No, some firstie. Blonde and reading a dodgy magazine—don't open it!" he snapped as Pansy stood and reached curiously for the door handle.
"Really, Malfoy! At least let us get a good look so we can have some fun with her later." His friend's hazel eyes gleamed maliciously beneath her dark bangs.
Draco immediately softened. "Well, in that case ... "
Pansy winked at him and slid the door open. A moment later she shrugged and sat down again. "You tease. There's no one sitting there."
"What?" He looked for himself and sure enough, the compartment was now empty. No sign of the mysterious girl remained. Was it possible that he simply imagined her? He had been a bit foggy lately; recurring nightmares of something awful lurking and hissing around him in pitch darkness would do that to a boy. He tried to dismiss it as back-to-school jitters, but quite honestly he was excited to begin his second year at Hogwarts and escape the stuffy family mansion. Flying lessons and an unforgettable excursion to the Forbidden Forest had given him a new appreciation for fresh air and wide open spaces. Not to mention he could finally try out for the Quidditch team this year ...
"Anything off the trolley, dears?"
Draco jumped, but of course it was only the dimpled witch who sold snacks on the train.
"Five liquorice wands," he said.
"Three cauldron cakes," Pansy said in the haughty voice she reserved for house-elves and other servants.
"Four chocolate frogs, I suppose," drawled Blaise.
"Have you any gulping plimpie soup?" murmured the girl sitting next to Blaise.
Draco scoffed. "Of course they don't have any soup here."
Two more seconds passed before his muscles stiffened in total shock. Slowly he looked up from his liquorice.
"Hullo," the blonde girl said again.
Her protruding, all-seeing eyes froze him in place. Now that she was closer he could see she was holding her magazine upside down. She sported rainbow-striped stockings under a frilly pink skirt and bright yellow blouse. Her earrings looked oddly like radishes, and on the hideous necklace she was wearing ... were those butterbeer corks?
She followed his gaze and held up the necklace for closer examination. "To keep away the nargles. You know about them, don't you? They're little sprites that steal our odds and ends. Every time you lose something it's their fault, as likely as not, and butterbeer is the only thing they're afraid of. The smell draws them, you see, and sometimes they fall into your mug and drown."
"Blaise," Draco said through his teeth. "How in Merlin's name did she get in here?"
Blaise merely shrugged, sparing a curious glance at the first-year before returning to his studies.
Pansy wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something bad. "Excuse me! This part of the train is for Slytherins only. Who do you think you are?" She wilted somewhat as that unnerving gaze fixed upon her.
"I think I am Luna," the girl said after an unusually long pause. Her voice was soft and dreamy with a noticeable Irish accent. "Luna Lovegood. It's what my father has always called me, but I can't say for sure if I have a name, or if I'm truly his daughter for that matter. 'Tis not easy to know yourself. I could just as easily be a liquorice wand."
Draco paused in the middle of a bite of candy to see her studying him again.
"I hope I taste good," she said.
Draco scowled and put the candy away. Pansy burst into a fit of giggles and elbowed him in the side.
Blaise's eyebrows rose slightly as he turned a page. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Parkinson."
"I think I like her," Pansy said when she could breathe again.
"You must be joking!" Draco said incredulously. "She's completely off the planet! Besides, she's not even worthy of our company. There's no Lovegood family in the Sacred Twenty-Eight and you know it."
"True, but then that list was never really finished, was it?" Pansy leaned forward. "Let's hear your opinion, Blaise. Surely you're the expert on bloodlines here. Your mother sampled so many of them."
Blaise raised his eyes from the book and sent her a cold smile. "I must commend you on one thing, Parkinson. You may be a bitch, but at least you're consistent about it. You're as poisonous to your friends as you are to your enemies."
"Fortunately for you I take that as a compliment, Blaise. Now in case you failed to notice, a Parkinson gave you an order. Follow it."
He sighed and closed the text momentarily, turning to Luna. "Give me your hand." When she obliged, he lowered his face to her skin and breathed deeply. A long moment passed. "Hmm. Peaches." An even longer moment passed. Finally he released Luna's hand and nodded his approval. "She's clean."
Pansy smirked. "Very well, Luna. Call us by our surnames and you may remain in the car. I'm Parkinson, he's Zabini, and that's Malfoy."
"You can't tell if someone's a pure-blood just like that!" Draco shouted at Blaise.
"You're the one who's always saying I can smell dirty blood from a mile away, Malfoy," the other boy deadpanned as he dove back into his book. "I declare her acceptable. Do with her what you will."
Draco seethed. The heir of the wealthiest wizarding family in Britain was quite unused to being contradicted so many times in one day, but after a few deep breaths he managed to quell his temper. Yes, this Luna was obviously insane and so were his mates for putting up with her, but making a scene and throwing her out was hardly worth the effort. Soon enough they would arrive at Hogwarts, where the first-years must separate from everyone else; then the girl would be sorted into one of the loser houses—probably Hufflepuff, they took all the duffers—and he never had to see her again except to hex her for his personal entertainment. In the meantime, he decided, he would take a nap.
Draco leaned back in the seat, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to relax. The sounds and motions of the train were quite soothing, and thanks to his recent lack of sleep he was able to drift off rather quickly. The miles fell away as he dozed. Elsewhere Colin Creevey was snapping a picture out the window every thirty seconds, Oliver Wood was doing a handstand on his broom as it floated in midair, Padma and Parvati Patil were engaged in a twin-on-twin staring contest with first-years Flora and Hestia Carrow, and Fred and George Weasley were magicking seventeen chocolate frogs into going berserk and letting them loose in their little sister Ginny's compartment.
To Draco, it happened not; it mattered not. He was dead to the world. One could call it natural Obliviation.
It was some time later when a small hand with sharp nails grabbed his arm and shook him awake.
"Malfoy," Pansy said. "We're almost there. Better get our robes on."
"Mmmffffll," he said eloquently, stretched, and stood up. His feet felt oddly cool and sensitive to the carpet. Draco glanced down and, after a minute of groggy contemplation, concluded that something was missing. "Right. Which one of you gits took my shoes?"
"Why darling," Pansy sounded as though she'd been rehearsing her answer for the last half hour. "Surely I would never play such a cruel trick on the great Lord Malfoy, to whom I am betrothed and forever true."
"Nor I, oh great and honorable Prince of Slytherin, whose family is fit only to serve you," said Blaise. He was now reading his Astronomy text in advance, but Draco caught a similar look in his eye.
Draco turned to Luna and shot her a terrible look that would have made many of his peers willing to confess anything, but it was all for naught. Her face was the very picture of innocence, and her eyes disarmed him with ease. Only when he looked closer did he see that very same gleam ...
"It must have been the nargles," she said solemnly.