It was the night before Christmas, and all through the House, not a creature was stirring…

Wait.

Something stirred.

In the Ravenclaw Tower, a small form quietly made it's way out. Soft feet padded through the empty halls, down the Tower, passing the third floor and climbing back up again towards another tower.

It came to a halt in front of a Gargoyle.

"Hello Mr Gargoyle," the figure spoke in a soft, dreamy voice, "would you kindly step aside? Someone called me."

The Gargoyle stepped aside, showing a staircase.

"Thank you," Luna said as she ascended.

The office was dark – the only glimmer came from the whirling and spinning silver instruments. The new Headmistress had not taken residency in the rooms, preferring to keep her own office instead.

Luna softly approached the painting of a sleeping Dumbledore.

"You called me."

The painting slowly opened it's eyes. "You heard me."

"Of course," the girl smiled, "what can I do for you?"

"I woke up yesterday," Dumbledore's painting explained, "and things are a bit hazy. Could you bring me up to date, Miss Lovegood?"

"Certainly, Headmaster."

"First things first – Harry. Where is he?"

"Horcrux hunting," Luna replied, "Ron and Hermione are with him. Professor Snape is trying to find the location of the other Horcruxes."

"Ah, good. They found the Pensieve, then?"

"It only took Harry two months and twenty demolished pillows to come to terms with it," Luna sat crosslegged on the floor, "I believe you hurt them both greatly, Professor."

"I know I did," the painting smiled sadly, "yet there was no other way. And there is something that worries me – I remember vaguely being worried. I…"

"Something you didn't intent for Harry to find," Luna said.

"Yes," the Headmaster nodded.

"Of course, you crackpot old fool," Phineas Nigellus called from his frame, "you hid the clues behind what would be your painting."

Luna stood up, moved the painting a bit to the side and found an envelope. She opened it calmly and read.

Macaroni

The Ravenclaw nodded.

"Well, girl? What does it say?" Nigellus snapped impatiently.

Luna held the bit of paper up for him to see. The former Headmaster raised his eyebrows. He huffed.

"Typically you, Dumbledore. One nonsensical word."

The portrait of Everard, on the other side of the wall, shook it's head. "Typically YOU, Phineas. If you weren't such an incorrigible blood purist you would've known that macaroni is a dish. A Muggle dish from Italy."

"Oh, and that helps us how exactly?" Nigellus sneered.

Luna ignored the fighting Headmasters. She approached one of the shelves.

"Hello, Hat."

"Hello, Miss Lovegood."

"Macaroni?"

"My idea," the Hat said proudly, "I Sorted this American student once – horrible accent. But I found a very interesting song in his head. Took me forever to get it out of my mind."

The Hat opened it's mouth – or the fold in the fabric that served as a mouth.

"Yankee Doodle went to town

Riding on a pony

He put a feather in his Hat

And called it Macaroni."

Luna nodded. "Which one?"

"SLYTHERIN" the Hat bellowed, as if Sorting a student.

"Thank you, Hat. And thank you, Headmaster."

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"Daddy?"

"Yes, Lunalight?"

"Death Eaters won't be happy with that article, you know."

"I'm counting on it, sweetheart. Why?"

"Have you upgraded the wards yet?"

"Ah – no. I've been working on this story about Scrimgeour's connections to the Hawaiian Vampire Community."

"Don't forget to do it, Daddy."

"I won't, Lunalight."

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"Come on, boys! Our first assignment. If this goes well, our Lord will reward us."

Three darkrobed figures approached the silent house.

"Vince, you're with me. We'll Lovegood and hang his body out of the window. That should make for a nice wake-up call for the Alley tomorrow. Greg, you take the girl. Do what you like, but be quick about it."

"Yes, Theo," the two nodded.

Greg Goyle made his way as quietly as he could towards the rooms. Opening the first door, he found a bathroom. The second door was a hall cupboard. Finally, he found the right one.

Moonlight bathed the room in a soft glow through opened curtains. The large Slytherin held his breath – on the bed lay the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Hair sprawled over the pillow, one hand behind her head, Luna Lovegood looked like an angel.

How come he had never seen that before?

Aiming his wand at her, he hesitated. Could he do this? His gaze slowly went to his left forearm where the Dark Mark was branded into his skin. The Mark meant he had to. But how could he destroy something so lovely?

"Greg? Are you done?"

"Y-yes," he replied shakily, "She's – She's not here. Is he dead?"

"Yes, he is. Come help us hang out his body, you're stronger than I am."

Goyle quickly stowed his wand away and closed the door securely, leaving a stunned Luna in her bed.

"Daddy," she whispered, her eyes full of tears, knowing there was nothing that she could do now to save him. He was gone.