Disclaimer: Anyone who honestly thinks I own Harry Potter is an idiot.

A Loony turn of events

Chapter One - A Loony Letter

The sun was just beginning to rise over Privet Drive. The birds were singing, the sky was clear and on the whole it showed every sign of being a good day. Not that the raven-haired teenage in the smallest bedroom of number four Privet Drive noticed this, for he was still in the same state of depression he had been since his return from school several days ago. It wasn't that unusual for Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, to be gloomy at the end of a year at Hogwarts; unfortunately this summer came with the added pain that whenever Harry closed his eyes his godfather's death would play out again before him.

Harry was lying sprawled out across his bed, watching Sirius fall through the veil at the Department of Mysteries and thinking of a hundred and one things he should have done differently. Why had he believed that vision? He'd spent all year trying to shield his mind only to fall for the first mental trap Voldemort had sent his way. Why had he listened to Kreacher? He'd been perfectly aware of the house-elf's dislike for Sirius yet still done everything the wretch had wanted. Why had he…

Harry's train of thought was interrupted by a sharp tapping at the window, the familiar sound that informed him there was an owl waiting to make a delivery. He looked up from his stupor, spotting a plain, grey owl patiently perched on the exterior sill with a copy of the Daily Prophet. Groaning, Harry hauled himself out of bed and crossed to the window, grabbing several coins off his desk as he pulled the window open. The owl stuck its leg out to offer Harry the paper, which he quickly paid for and began to read as the owl flexed its wings and set off into the sky once again.

HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE?

The teen groaned as he read the headline, carelessly tossing the paper aside as he turned back to the bed. Unfortunately the paper projectile soared across the room and slammed into Hedwig's cage, causing it to rock violently and wake the snowy owl within. Hedwig hooted in alarm, shifting position slightly in an attempt to balance the cage again so it wouldn't fall.

"Sorry girl," muttered Harry, darting over to the cage and offering the alarmed owl a treat from a nearby box, "I just don't know what I'm doing any more." This was perfectly true, for once his anger at Dumbledore had faded it had been replaced with the strange empty feeling that usually accompanied having no idea what to do in a serious situation.

At that moment there was yet another tap at the window. Looking round, Harry's eyes fell upon on the strangest birds he'd ever seen. It certainly wasn't an owl; in fact it looked more like one of those tropical birds Sirius had used to communicate with him several times. This fresh memory bought a whole new wave of emotion back to the surface, and it took several moments for Harry to fight through it enough to remember the mysterious bird that was still waiting for attention. It had pale blue plumage and a strange, curved, yellow beak; however the most striking thing about it was its eyes. They were both large and baleful, quite unlike any bird he'd ever laid eyes on before.

"Who sent you?" murmured Harry curiously, noticing for the first time that the bird was carrying the letter as if it were an owl. He reached out and took the letter, and as he did so the bird crossed over to Hedwig's cage and helped itself to the water there, having clearly been instructed to wait for a response. Hedwig hooted indignantly at this, glaring at the raven-haired teen in protest, however Harry was to busy unfolding the letter to notice.

Dear Harry,

How are you feeling? I hope you're well; when someone is sad for too long it attracts Drixels you know and they can be rather tricky to get rid of. Never forget the ones you love who are gone, they just wouldn't want us to be sad, and of course we'll see them again some day.

Father and I are leaving for Sweden tomorrow to search for a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, but he's getting supplies from London today. You live near London don't you? Father says I can visit you whilst he's busy today if that would be alright. I told Felicity to wait in case you wanted to reply, but it's alright if you don't. People don't usually.

Your friend,

Luna.

As with most things Luna said to him, Harry had to think about the letter twice before the entire contents finally sunk in. She'd said something similar to him about departed loved ones at the end of last term, and again Harry found the idea incredibly comforting. It would be nice to see one of his friends, after all he still had no idea when or even if he'd be rescued this summer. Luna was a good choice too, she seemed to have a way of always cheering him up, and that was certainly something the boy-who-lived needed right now.

The teen sat at his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, pausing for a moment before writing a quick reply to Luna.

Dear Luna,

I won't deny I've been down, but your letter helped, so thank you. Fortunately the Dursley's are going out for the day, so if you still want to come any time around ten should be fine.

Harry.

He scrawled his address below it, before adding a quick charm that would only allow Luna to read this part (a useful trick Hermione had taught him after he found a first year rooting through his possessions for 'proof he was bonkers'). He tied the letter to the leg of the odd bird, Felicity, and watched as it soared out of the open window once again. Hedwig certainly seemed happy to be rid of them, which swayed even her usual anger at Harry using any other bird to carry a letter.

"Well…" he began, the hope of something different today having temporarily raised him out of the state he'd been in for several days, "with any luck she shouldn't run in to the Dursleys, but I should get them in a good mood just in case." He was saying all of this to Hedwig, which was a habit he had picked up during his isolation in Privet Drive. Sometimes it just helped to speak your plans aloud, even if no-one really listened.

After throwing on some semi-decent clothing (or at least the closest approximation from Dudley's cast-offs), Harry headed downstairs and began to make breakfast for the rest of the house. His estimate of the time turned out to be correct, for Aunt Petunia emerged just as he was finishing. She shot him a piercing glare, however didn't interfere as the teenager divided it onto four plates and set three of them at the table. Vernon and Dudley entered just as he finished wolfing down his own (he'd gotten used to eating quickly over the years). If his uncle had any comment to make on the food he didn't share it, adopting his practice of pretending Harry wasn't there. Dudley however did not follow this guideline, so took the opportunity to take a jab at Harry.

"I bet you wish you were going freak," he sneered; raising himself up in what he obviously thought was an important looking manner as he began eating.

"Oh yes, the zoo, thrilling," replied Harry sarcastically, slipping out of the room as he spoke. He hadn't been allowed anywhere near a zoo ever since the vanishing glass incident 5 years previously. Not that the boy-who-lived minded, for he encountered much stranger creatures at Hogwarts then he ever had in a muggle zoo. Harry had been rather surprised that Dudley was so insistent to go anywhere that could be considered educational, however the mystery had been solved when it was revealed one of his cousin's favourite footballers was opening a new exhibit that day.

It was because of this set event that Harry had known when the house would be empty, for they would have to leave by half past nine at the latest to get there in time, which meant that even taking the possibility of running late into account it was highly unlikely they'd still be in the house at ten. And if they were, well Harry had had trouble with them before; he'd just have to talk his way out of this one as well. Fortunately for the raven-haired teen the Dursley's did not run into any unforeseen obstacles, and left the house without a word to him a half past nine promptly.

It suddenly occurred to Harry that he may have set a time too early for Luna to make. After all, he knew she lived up near the Weasleys, and they had never gotten a letter off him that quickly. Disappointment growing inside him, Harry washed up the dishes more to keep himself distracted rather then out of any wish to help out, before finally giving in and retreating to his bedroom once again. He'd been a fool to think that a friend would come and see him so soon. Perhaps she would still come later in the day, once there'd been time for his letter to arrive.

Harry was in fact so prepared for disappointment that it was a great surprise to him when there was a clear knock at the door. He glanced over at the clock, and upon spotting it was ten o'clock exactly he pulled himself out of bed, and the depressed stupor that had been creeping up on him, and hurried to answer the door. He could honestly say he'd never been happier to see Luna Lovegood before.

Luna was dressed relatively normally, in a simple yellow blouse and pair of denim shorts. The image of normality was of course shattered when Harry noticed the familiar radish earrings and butterbeer cork necklace. He could just imagine the Dursley's faces if they spotted the wand Luna was still wearing tucked behind one ear, and despite his dark mood couldn't suppress a smile. She had a bag slung loosely over one shoulder; however to his surprise it didn't seem to have anything in it.

"Hi Harry," began Luna in her usual dreamy voice, sounding as if she was only half paying attention to the world around her, "this is a nice house…" she paused, sniffing the air slightly before continuing, "I think it's infested with Gulping Plimpies though. You should get that seen to." Harry smiled again at this, more grateful then he could say that something was able to distract him from the pain.

"Hey Luna," he replied. The greeting was rather late, however it was easier then responding to the girl's comment about the Plimpies. "I'm surprised you got my letter and got here so quickly." He stood back from the door, gesturing politely for Luna to come inside. She smiled serenely, following Harry into the house and letting the door swing shut behind her.

"Oh I was already in the area," she explained, "Felicity brings all my mail straight to me…" she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "that way the Nargles can't steal it."

"Do they do that often?" asked Harry despite himself. He was fairly confident that Nargles didn't exist, however wasn't concerned enough to bother arguing this point.

"It happens more when I'm at school," replied Luna, "I think they're attracted to the aura of Hogwarts." It seemed more likely that her mail was stolen as a mean practical joke, however once again the teenage boy chose to not voice his suspicions, instead changing the subject the one that had been bothering him.

"What is Felicity by the way?" he asked curiously as they entered the kitchen. He pulled one seat back for Luna which she took with a grateful smile, before quickly pouring two glasses of orange and carrot juice (the closest in taste to Pumpkin that he had found) and joining her at the table.

"She's a Sirean," stated the girl, "not an owl like you use." Luna was gazing out of one of the kitchen windows as she spoke rather then looking Harry; however when he peered over her shoulder for a moment he couldn't for the life of him work out what she was looking at. He was about to ask her to explain it, however the train of thought was interrupted by Luna speaking again.

"I feel I should tell you why I'm here," she sounded surprisingly serious as she said this, and Harry noticed an uncharacteristically serious expression on her face as she finally turned away from the window, "I read your interview again… you don't like it here do you?" The boy-who lived was momentarily taken aback at the blunt question, and was quite unable to come up with an answer to it. With everything that had happened with Sirius he'd barely thought about his dislike of the Dursleys. They seemed to have sensed his bad mood and mostly left him alone; however he was well aware that it couldn't last much longer.

"Not really," admitted Harry, locking eyes with Luna for a moment as he tried to figure out what she was thinking.

"I thought not," the girl agreed, pushing her chair back and not only jumping to her feet, but pulling Harry up as well, "so I thought I'd take you away from it for the day." Harry was thoroughly confused by this point, and was about to voice this uncertainty when once again Luna cut across him before he could speak.

"Would you like to go to Diagon Alley with me?"

"Is it safe?" asked the raven-haired teen cautiously. Very early on in the holiday he'd received a letter from the Order very specifically requesting that he stayed out of crowded areas. He hadn't paid much attention to it at the time, having been deep in depression; however it finally returned to the forefront of his mind now it was relevant.

"Probably not," admitted Luna conversationally, dreamy expression once again fixed firmly on her face as she stared began staring out of the window, "so, want to go?" Harry thought about it for a moment. On the one hand it was true that there were many death eaters after him, and he rather doubted his knowledge of disguise magic was enough to conceal his identity. Then again, it would be a very welcome relief to escape from the house even for a day, and for some reason he found it easier to cope with his loss when Luna was around.

"Alright then," he finally agreed, smiling briefly at the dirty-blonde girl, "but I'll have to find some sort of disguise first."

"I have an idea," stated Luna, and much to Harry's surprise she grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the hall and up the stairs.

"Luna, where are we going?"

"If I'm right, then there's a perfect disguise in here…" she had paused at the door to Vernon and Petunia's room, for the door had been left open that day showing the interior from the stairs. Before Harry could raise and objection she had already entered the room, hurrying over to the large wardrobe that stood against one wall and pulling it open.

"What are you doing?" asked the boy-who-lived, once again thoroughly confused at Luna's actions, "I really don't think we should be in here." However even as he spoke the girl seemed to find what she was looking for, before emerging from behind the door carrying a long, auburn wig that was one of several Aunt Petunia owned for various occasions. Before Harry could object she had darted forward and placed it on his head, sealing it in place with a quick sticking charm so it wouldn't slip out of place.

"What was that for!?" exclaimed Harry angrily, tugging in vain and the wig and succeeding only in causing himself pain, "I can't go out with this on."

"Of course you can," replied Luna, "no-one would expect you to wear a muggle disguise. I think you'd even fool a determined Wrackspurt." Harry was attempting to find a fault with this logic as the girl moved off again, this time grabbing several products from the make-up kit on the dresser beside the bed and turning back to him.

"Hold still," she instructed, amusement beginning to show on her face. Working quickly, she applied several products to Harry's forehead, before slowly turning him around to face the mirror.

"Perfect," stated Luna dreamily, only-half looking at the reflection yet still clearly admiring her work.

"I look stupid," complained Harry, gazing scathingly at his reflection. Whilst his unruly hair was indeed hidden by the wig, it had the added effect of looking ridiculous; it was unmistakably girl's hair, and with Harry's skinny structure it made it hard for even him to tell what gender the reflection's face was. Then again, it would certainly be an effective disguise, especially with the muggle make-up almost completely covering his scar.

"Now you're ready," concluded Luna, and almost entirely against his will Harry found himself pulled out of the room again. Before long they were out on the street, having stopped only so that he could collect essentials such as his wand and Gringotts key. Luna, still seemingly oblivious to the boy-who-lived's complaints about his disguise, stuck out her hand to summon the Knight Bus.

An almighty bang filled the air, and in that instant the iconic purple, triple-decked buss appeared out of the sky in front of them. It screeched to a halt, and although it missed Harry and Luna several street-lamps had to desperately leap out of the way. With a hiss the door was thrown open, however unlike the last time Harry had ridden it no conductor leapt out to greet them. He led Luna aboard, not realising that he still had her by the hand, and approached the driver he vaguely recognised as Ernie Prang.

"What happened to Stan?" he asked in concern, not wanting to think about the possibility of anyone else he knew being killed. Ernie looked over at him with an extremely glum look on his face, screwing up his face for a moment before answering.

"Gone," explained Ernie sadly, "taken to Azkaban as a Death Eater."

"A Death Eater!?" exclaimed Harry in disbelief, shock flashing across his face, "there's no way Stan's a Death Eater!" He could feel himself getting angrier by the second. Luna seemed to sense this, for she squeezed his hand in a comforting manner. This did help, for the raven-haired teen found himself becoming calmer once again.

"I know!" wailed Ernie, sniffing slightly and wiping his owl-like eyes with one grubby sleeve, "still… got to keep working… where you goin' today?"

"Diagon Alley please," replied Harry, patting his pockets for the required 22 sickles, before realising he didn't have it. Fortunately Luna came to his rescue, lightly pushing past him and handing the coins over to Ernie, who printed off their tickets.

"Thanks," Harry whispered, following the dirty-blonde girl to a plush looking couch that was set at a very odd angle from the wall. There were several similar plush seats set hap-hazardly along the length of the bus, and Harry was surprised to see that they were the only passengers on this level, if not the whole bus.

With another bang the bus leapt forward and vanished, appearing almost immediately on a familiar London street, just outside the Leaky Cauldron. The trip was short; however the leap was still violent enough to send the couch tumbling back down the isle and only narrowly avoiding tipping over backwards. The duo shakily got to their feet, pausing to talk to Ernie again before they left the bus.

"This war's bad for business," he explained, sighing as he tapped one finger against the steering wheel in a bored manner, "most people are staying at home."

"It's the Yachspoys," explained Luna helpfully, "they sit on people's shoulders and encourage them to stay at home." The boy-who-lived shook his head vacantly at the confused looking driver, before quickly steering his friend off the bus back onto the street.

The Leaky Cauldron was just as deserted as the Knight Bus had been. Tom, the barman, clearly wasn't expecting them to buy anything, for he barely acknowledged their presence as they passed through the bar into the small courtyard that concealed the entrance to Diagon Alley. Harry drew his wand out of his pocket, tapping the correct brick firmly and watching as the wall unfolded itself and revealed the entrance to Diagon Alley.

It was certainly different to the last time either Harry or Luna had been there, for there were very few shoppers around, and those there were seemed to be hurrying from one place to the other without stopping. Several of the shops had been closed and boarded up, clearly showing that the war was seriously affecting Diagon Alley.

"I need to stop at Gringotts first," stated Harry, still keeping a grip on Luna's hand as he set off quickly down the street. The goblin bank was housing slightly more activity then the rest of the street, and the raven-haired teen supposed that even in wartime people still needed to access their money and valuables. One woman in particular stood out to him. There was something familiar about her, and from her official air he suspected she was someone he'd encountered at the Ministry of Magic the previous year.

The Ministry… once again this bought the memory of Sirius's death to the front of the mind. He was so busy forcing back the wave of sorrow that it took him several moments to realise the woman had moved aside and it was his turn at the counter.

"I'd like to access my vault please," stated Harry politely, nodding courteously to the Goblin behind the desk, "and if possible I'd like to speak to someone about my account."

"Of course, Mr. Potter," replied the Goblin. The boy-who-lived was surprised at being identified, though now that he thought about it Goblins did tend to be more observant then most. They probably dealt with hundreds of customers in disguise for one reason or another, so would have gotten very proficient at seeing through them.

"If you wait in there someone will be with you shortly," added the Goblin, gesturing towards an ante-chamber to the side of the room. Harry turned to face Luna, who smiled, before leading the way into the room and calmly sitting in one of the comfortable looking seats that were arranged around the small room. Harry quickly joined her, sitting in the nearest seat so they could talk.

"This shouldn't take too long," he stated, although he didn't sound particularly confident as he did so, "I just want to find out exactly what I have." This was something that had been bothering him at the back of his mind since Sirius's death. It was with a heavy heart that he had realised his godfather would almost certainly have left him something despite his wishes, which had led him to realise that despite having visited his vault several times he had no idea how much was in there.

"How about Ice Cream afterwards?" muttered Luna, her eyes following something around the room, that Harry couldn't quite spot. He was prevented from replying by the arrival of another Goblin, one he was incredibly surprised to realise that he recognised.

"Griphook!" he exclaimed, getting to his feet to greet the Goblin.

"Good day Mr. Potter," replied Griphook, visibly taken aback at being recognised, "I must say I'm impressed you remember me. Most wizards don't even notice my kind differ in appearance." Harry chuckled at the joke, sitting down again as the Goblin did the same opposite.

"So, what can I help you with?"

"I want to know exactly how much I have in my account," explained Harry, face falling as the exact reason for his visit swam back to the forefront of his mind once again. He took several deep breaths, however once again Luna squeezed comfortingly on his hand again and he calmed down.

"A simple request," stated Griphook, seemingly plucking a folder out of thin air and handing it to the boy-who-lived, "this file is specially enchanted to always display the contents of your account, so feel free to take it with you." The raven-haired teen quickly took it, flipping it open and quickly scanning over the first page. He had to read it again immediately afterwards simply to check he'd read it correctly.

"H…how much!?" he stammered, staring wide-eyed at the goblin before him.

"The Potter Family is incredibly wealthy," replied Griphook with a slight smile, "add to that the considerable fortunes of the Black Family that you inherited, and the result is no small amount." Luna leant over the folder as well curiously, however was seemingly not surprised by the amount written in front of them.

Harry flipped through the folder, quickly taking in the contents. As well as a very considerable amount of gold, there was a list of magical artefacts contained within a separate vault and a page detailing the houses he owned. Grimmauld Place was the only address he recognised, however there were two that caught his interest. One was his house at Godric's Hollow, and he felt a fresh lump in his throat as he gazed down at the wizarding photograph of the house his parents had died in. The damage from the attack was clearly showing, and he doubted he'd ever attempt to live in that house. The other property caught his interest because all of the details were blank, including the photograph.

"That house is under a Fidelus charm," explained the Goblin, noticing the boy's eyes lingering over the property, "clearly the secret keeper is still alive somewhere, so we have no details on it." Harry bit his lip, annoyed that yet another mystery had forced his way into his already cryptic life. Making a mental note to investigate that later, he passed the folder to Luna who tucked it away into her bag without a word.

"Is there a way to access my gold without visiting my account every time?" asked Harry suddenly, curiosity about his wealth momentarily overriding his guilt on how he'd attained it, "for the muggle world as well I mean."

"There is indeed!" confirmed Griphook, "though most Wizards don't think of asking." Once again he plucked an object out of thin air. It was small and plastic, appearing to all the world like a normal muggle credit card. "This card is imbued with all of the necessary runes," he explained, "It will allow a transfer of gold in almost all wizarding and muggle stores. It costs twenty galleons to set up; however after that transactions are free." Harry agreed and in a bright purple flash the card bound itself to him. Tucking it away into a pocket he got to his feet, Luna doing the same beside him.

"Thank you for your time Griphook," added Harry politely as left, "I hope we meet again some day."

"I'm sure we will," replied the Goblin, and for a moment Harry was sure he heard him chuckle, however the door swung shut between them before he could be sure.

I originally planned to have Chapter One longer, but decided to split it. Please review.