One morning in April, Neville Longbottom was awoken by the serene voice of Luna Lovegood.
"Neville! There's cheese on toast."
"Wha- huh?" Neville asked, falling out of his hammock in the Room of Requirement. Getting to his feet, he rubbed sleep from his eyes and realized that Luna was right. A three-legged table stood in front of them, with a cheese on toast piled high on a plate that rested on it.
"That's impossible."
"It must have been the nargles," Luna frowned.
They stood there for a second, staring at it.
"Luna?" Neville said.
"Yes?"
"I think we're going to win."
