AN: I was having a bit of a writer's block on my other story, so I figured I needed some light writing to get my brain fired up…. and thus, this idea popped into my head! This takes place during Luna's 4th Year and Neville's 5th Year. Luna has always been my favorite character, and I don't think she gets enough attention in the books, so I chose her and Neville to be the main characters for this story. This is my first HP fic, and I live off reviews, so constructive criticism is much appreciated.

Oh, and I also posted a link to a picture of the schoolhouse that Luna and Neville visit in this fic on my profile...

Enjoy!

"Class! Class!" The mayhem in the Muggle Studies classroom prevented Professor Burbage's voice from being heard. "Sonorous!" she muttered, and suddenly the class fell silent as the professor's voice boomed loudly, echoing across the stone walls.

"All right, listen up!" she thundered. With a quick "Quietus," her voice returned to normal volume, and she addressed the class once more. "Next Friday, you will all be excused from your regular classes to take what Muggles call a 'field trip'. All of the fourth- and fifth-year Muggle Studies students will be visiting a Muggle school for the day, to observe, take notes, and gather information about how Muggle children are taught." An excited whisper rippled through the class, but was silenced by Professor Burbage's stony glare. "The heads of the different Muggle schools you will be visiting have been told that you are children who have been privately tutored in London and who are interested in attending the aforementioned school. They will expect you to sit quietly and listen. As your professor, I expect more of you. You will not speak directly to the students. If you have any questions, you will go to Auror supervising the school. There will be absolutely no disturbances in the classroom, and you will not interfere with the students' learning. Therefore, I have banned the use of magic for every one of you that day. And trust me, if you do perform magic, even simply a small Accio charm, I will know. And I will be most displeased. Understood?"

Murmurs of "Yes, ma'am," and "Of course, Professor," filled the classroom, and Professor Burbage nodded curtly. "All right, then. I have assigned you each partners, and they are listed on parchment posted in each of the common rooms. Each set of partners will be traveling to a different school, with an Auror accompanying you. I will visit each of the schools throughout the day, to make sure everything is running smoothly. If you have a problem with the person you are partnered with, see me privately.

"If not, I will meet you all in the Great Hall on Friday at precisely 8:30 in the morning, no earlier, no later. If you are late, we will leave without you. Does everyone understand?"

"Yes, Professor Burbage."

And with that, she gave them all a small smile, and said, "Class dismissed."

. . .

"Oh, Neville, aren't you so excited for the field trip on Friday?" Luna approached Neville in the Great Hall the next day, bouncing up and down on the balls of her Converse-clad feet, The Quibbler sticking out under her arm.

"Yeah, I am… I'm just a bit worried that I might forget and perform a spell or two..."

"Ppsh, don't worry! I'll keep an eye on you. Did you see – we're partners! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Oh, great! So if my hand ever reaches towards my wand, just remind me… Gosh, I wish I could bring my Remembrall – that would help. But I don't think Professor Burbage would allow that, do you?"

. . .

"Muggle Studies students, over here!" Professor Burbage's voice was once again magnified over the hubbub in the Great Hall, which caused a couple of first-years to scurry off in fright. Luna grabbed Neville, who was looking a bit dazed, and dragged him over to the group of fourth- and fifth-years. Burbage read off the names of each set of partners and the Auror that they would be paired with. When Luna and Neville were called, they were sent to stand by the Auror, Dawlish, with whom they would apparate (using side-long apparition) to the school in England. They traveled by foot to Hogsmeade to apparate with the rest of the students, since the enchantments on the school prevented apparition.

Professor Burbage once again reminded them not to use magic, causing Neville to bite his lip in anticipation. Then, she said with authority, "Will each of the Aurors please link arms with the students they are partnered with, and – oh, look at the time! Quarter to nine already! Off you go, then – good luck!"

Just then, Luna felt a curious sensation, kind of like she was being squished from all sides. She rather disliked it; it was very similar to having your head being attacked by wrackspurts, she thought, which was definitely a most unpleasant feeling.

She clung to Dawlish's arm tightly, and landed neatly behind a gathering of trees. Smoothing her tutu (she had worn Muggle clothes for the occasion), she looked around for Neville, who had unfortunately let go of Dawlish's arm too soon, and landed in the trees, tangled between the limbs. With a quick, "Relashio," from Dawlish, he fell to the ground, panting and clutching his wrist. Luna helped him up, then looked around her in curiosity. She didn't see a school anywhere. "Excuse me, Mister?"

"Mmm?" Dawlish replied.

"Where is this school that we're going to?"

Dawlish pointed to a modest building a out a half-mile away. "Have to walk. Don't want to look conspicuous."

"Oh, I see." Luna smiled, linked arms with Neville, and skipped off towards the Muggle school.

. . .

"I'll be here, if yeh need anything," Dawlish said gruffly, and went to stand by the front doors to the building. The school was rather lovely, Luna thought. Not nearly as magnificent as Hogwarts, though, it was a quaint little Victorian, with lacy gingerbread siding and painted a soft periwinkle. Students carrying rucksacks slung over their shoulders were entering the school, talking amiably. Neville and Luna followed a group of students that looked about their age, and sat at a small table in the back of the room. Pulling out a notebook and quill, Luna sighed, "Oh, I do wish we were allowed to do magic. It would make taking notes so much easier."

"We aren't allowed to use magic?" Neville cried in surprise. "Oh… that's right… thanks for reminding me. I was just about to perform a Mobiliarbus charm…"

Students filed into the classroom, filling in empty seats and taking out their books. The professor at the front of the room rapped his walking stick on the ground. "Good morning, class. As we are starting a new semester, I will be your Literature teacher for the rest of the year. As many of you know, my name is Mr. Rushmont, and I teach 9th Grade World History and Literature. I assure you that if you all work very hard in this class, you will receive excellent grades, for if you put in good effort, you shall reap the rewards!" he said heartily, reminding Luna strongly of Professor Lockhart. "Now, many of you may have noticed that we have some students visiting our classroom today. These two young'uns have been privately tutored in London their whole lives, and are interested in attending our wonderful school next year, isn't that right?" Luna and Neville nodded. "And will you tell class your names, please?"
Luna jumped up eagerly, her radish earrings swinging with the impact. "Luna Lovegood, pleased to meet you!" she said enthusiastically, receiving many confused looks as the students eyed her attire.

Neville, looking a bit nervous, stood and said, "Hi, I-I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom." Instead of being greeted with raised eyebrows, as Luna had, many of the kids snorted, muttering things like, "Longbottom? Is he for real?"

Crossing her arms defiantly, Luna got ready to defend Neville, but Mr. Rushmont beat her to it. "Now really, is that necessary? I expect you all to be courteous and welcoming to our guests today. Don't want to give them a bad impression, eh?" He laughed awkwardly, then turned towards the blackboard, writing To Kill a Mockingbird in fancy script. "Now, many of you may not recognize the title of this classic. It is an American novel, set in the Great Depression, about racism and walking in other people's shoes. I, along with your fellow teachers, feel that it is necessary, although we live in Europe, to address these problems that have occurred in other societies (as well as ours) so that young people the knowledge and power to stop them. You may open your books, and can I have a volunteer to read aloud chapter one…?"

The rest of the class went on in this fashion – the class reading aloud, and Mr. Rushmont pompously giving his opinion on every detail of the novel. Luna found it rather interesting to read Muggle literature, as it was so different than the novels in the wizarding world, but she was repeatedly disrupted from her observations by the need for her to shake Neville awake, as he kept nodding off.

Just before the bell rang, though, there was change in scenery. Neville had once again drifted off to sleep, but this time, Luna was too enraptured with Mr. Rushmont's lecture to notice. Head lolling to one side, Neville let out a great snore, which attracted the attention of some of the students near the back of the classroom. One rather tough looking boy slid out of his desk, and made his way over towards Neville. "Look at this – Longbottom's fell asleep! Aw, the ickle cutie pie… what's this?" He pulled out a long stick dangling from Neville's hand. "Looky here! Longbottom's got himself a wand! He's a little wizard!" The boy brandished the wand, shouting "Abracadabra!" which awoke Neville and got the attention of the teacher.

"Now young man, just what exactly do you think you're –" Mr. Rushmont stopped in his tracks at the sight of something even more alarming. When Neville had jerked awake, the impact had cause his toad, Trevor to fall out of his pocket. Trevor scampered around the room, occasionally giving a little, "Ribbit!" while girls shrieked and jumped onto their desks, and boys bravely threw books and rulers at the traumatized animal. But, it seemed that this toad was escaping imminent death at every turn. Each time a book landed on him, he simply seemed to vanish, and reappear on the other side of the room. The bewildered students concluded that it was their eyes tricking them, but they still edged away slowly towards the door, eager to get out of the classroom. "Wait! Wait! Your homework is pages 39-62!" Mr. Rushmont shouted in vain as the kids scurried out the door. Luna was quite sure that none of them would have their work done by tomorrow.

. . .

After much apologizing to Mr. Rushmont (who had cowered in a corner of the room until Neville finally captured Trevor), the pair followed the 9th graders to their next class – biology. Ironically, the students were dissecting frogs that day. Several girls looked petrified, and Neville flat-out refused to participate. He and Luna sat down at a group of desks, Trevor zippered safely inside Neville's pocket. Luna looked longingly over at a group of students poring over their frog – she thought it would be very interesting to do the science project. But her compassionate heart forced her to stay with Neville, who was staring fiercely at the ground, determined not to look at the bucket of dead frogs at the front of the room.

. . .

The rest of the day was very uneventful, until World History, the second-to-last period of the school day. In much the same position as Literature, Luna listened, enthralled, while Neville daydreamed and stared longingly out of the window. Ms. Harrington was in the middle of a lecture about World War II, when Neville, bored out of his mind, took Luna's copy of The Quibbler out of her bag and opened it to an article about Crumple Horned Snorckacks. He read the article with mild interest while the class went to work taking notes on a chapter in their textbooks. When the bell rang, Neville did not notice – he was looking through the pair of spectrespecs that had come with the magazine. Luna waved her hand in front of his face to get his attention, but he did not show any sign of recognizing the gesture. It wasn't until the tough looking boy who had been playing with his wand earlier came up to him that he realized something was amiss. "Hey, Longbottom – what you wearing? Are those your mummy's reading glasses?"

A preppy looking girl came up behind him and snatched the magazine out of Neville's hand. "Nargles? What in the world are Nargles?" she asked snobbishly. " And who is 'The Boy Who Lived'? Is this some kind of joke?"

Luna frowned, placing her hands on her hips. "No, this is not a joke. Now give me back my magazine."

"No chance, buster. Now get out of my way," the girl said, pushing past Luna. She made her way up to the teacher's desk. "Excuse me, Ms. Harrington, but what are Nargles?" she said in a falsely innocent voice.

The young woman looked up mildly, and took the magazine from the girl's hands. "Hmm…" she said, flipping through the pages. "Mr. Longbottom, would you mind telling me where you got this, em, interesting magazine?"

"Well, er…" Neville said, squirming in his seat.

Luna stood up. "I'm sorry, ma'am, that's my father's magazine. Neville was just borrowing it for some light reading."

"Light reading, is that so? Light reading about wizards and spells and lies?" she said with venom. "This magazine states that a young man exists, calling himself 'The Boy Who Lived', who claims to have survived a killing curse from a dark wizard. Well, I'll assure you, Miss Lovegood, that wizards and curses don't exist. Now I will have this trash confiscated, and I'm afraid I'll have to notify your parents of this disturbance."

"The Quibbler. Is. Not. Trash," Luna spat, sparks flying out of her outstretched wand. Neville looked from teacher to student in alarm – he had never seen Luna angry, or even slightly upset. Therefore, he concluded, this was serious. Scrambling out of the room, he raced towards Dawlish, who was dozing off on a bench near the lobby.

"Sir – excuse me, Mr. Dawlish, but Luna and that teacher are fighting back there – she's got Luna's copy of the Quibbler – she keeps talking about wizards and 'The Boy Who Lived' – I think she suspects something –" Dawlish, without waiting to hear another word, sped towards the classroom, Neville panting behind him. The Auror quickly grabbed the copy of The Quibbler from Ms. Harrington, stood in front of her and the few remaining students, and muttered "Obliviate," effectively erasing their memories of the past five minutes. The Muggles, looking dazed, sat down in chairs and scratched their heads.

"Now," said Dawlish, handing Luna The Quibbler, "I suggest that you two return immediately to Hogwarts. Go straight to your common rooms, and do not say anything about what occurred today. I will be merciful and not tell your Professor what went on, but remember that I will still know, so don't step a toe out of line in the future." Neville and Luna nodded fervently. With a quick, "Portus," Dawlish turned Neville's quill into a Portkey to Hogwarts. "I have to stay here and sort this out. Have a safe trip," he said, and grunted a goodbye.

"Mr. Dawlish – thank you so much – I'm so sorry, I really shouldn't have lost my temper like that- " Luna started, but the Auror waved her off.

"Better grab on to that Portkey, or you miss your ride."

. . .

The next Monday, Neville and Luna sat in Professor Burbage's Muggle Studies class, listening to other students share their experiences.

"And how about you, Mr. Longbottom, Miss Lovegood? How was your visit?"

"Just lovely, thanks, Professor."