Characters: Penelope, Luna
Summary: There's an odd little girl who's lost her shoes standing in front of her.
Pairings: Percy x Penelope
Author's Note: I would appreciate some feedback on my characterization of Luna; she's such a hard character to pin down.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
When Professor Flitwick informed the Ravenclaw Prefects that, on the weekends their patrols would be increased by half again due to the attacks on Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey, Penelope Clearwater, at first, could not help but feel excitement shoot in her. The teachers of Hogwarts, Headmaster Dumbledore in particular, thought that they, the Prefects, who were still students themselves, were competent to undertake the task of searching the halls for the Heir of Slytherin (she'd picked up the term in History of Magic class) and his monster. However, shocked pleasure and pride soon gave way to irritation.
The reasons for her irritation were, Penelope liked to think, simple and easy to understand. One, she didn't have nearly as much time for her increasing amounts of homework, necessitating occasional all-nighters in the dormitory. Second, extra patrol was seriously cutting into what time Penelope could steal with Percy, though they were running into each other in the halls more often now (Penelope suspected Percy was running into her purposely). Third, Penelope was meeting all the loonies on patrol that Christmas break.
Case in point: standing right in front of her, just down the hall, putting up posters on bulletin boards for The Quibbler.
Penelope stared bemusedly at her. The little girl had unkempt, rather uncared-for-looking fair hair that hung to her waist; she had her wand tucked behind her left ear, a bunch of corks worn on a string around her neck and, as far as Penelope could see, her fingernails were painted bright orange (Which of course clashed horribly with her pale hair). Looking at her, Penelope got the impression that she was just a little mad.
The Heir of Slytherin? Penelope mused. Probably not. The Heir of Bedlam, more like. The bizarre-looking little girl was almost certainly harmless. However, given how deserted the halls had been of late and the fact that people had taken to traveling in groups ever since Justin Finch-Fletchley and Sir Nicholas had been attacked, that she was present in the hall at all was noteworthy, and probably needed to be investigated more closely.
"Excuse me?" Penelope called to get the girl's attention. "Do you need some help?"
At that, the girl looked up and flashed an absent, dreamy smile at her, moving on down the hall towards the next bulletin board available in between all the portraits. "No, I'm alright, thanks. Just trying to keep away the Nargles. The infestation's especially thick here; I suspect it might have something to do with all the mistletoe the House Elves have been putting up."
Penelope had no idea what Nargles were, nor did she particularly care. She had, however, decided that this girl was completely and totally nuts and that it was her duty, not just as a Prefect but as a human being to figure out who she was, what House she was in and get her back to her Common Room as soon as possible.
It was when they got to the next bulletin board round the nearest bend in the corridor that the girl seemed to realize that she was being tailed. With the same vague equanimity she had displayed earlier, the young girl (from her size, most likely a first year, Penelope realized), turned and introduced herself. "I've been rude; please excuse me. My name is Luna Lovegood. I'm a first year in Ravenclaw." Her wide, pale eyes stared up at Penelope benignly.
So they were in the same House. Come to mention it, Penelope was fairly sure she'd seen this girl somewhere else before.
Wait… Now she remembered. It had been in the Great Hall. Penelope had watched, mouth slightly agape until she realized how ridiculous it made her look, as a tiny little girl had walked down the aisle with the other first years, a pair of mismatched in color, garishly bright glasses on her face. She was complaining about something called Wrackspurts, saying that she could barely breathe, the air was so thick with them.
"And you're Penelope Clearwater." Luna managed to startle Penelope with her knowledge. "You're a sixth year Prefect who got ten O.W.L.s by taking the Muggle Studies exam even though you didn't take the class—"
"I'm Muggle-born," Penelope explained awkwardly, her cheeks tingeing pink. "I didn't even have to study for that stupid exam."
"—and you like that Prefect with red hair and glasses from Gryffindor House," Luna continued serenely.
Penelope nearly choked on her tongue.
"How do you know about that?" she demanded shakily, wondering what on Earth it was they could have done to give themselves away—other than get caught in a classroom by Percy's little sister, that was. Penelope winced, deciding that she was going to have to warn Percy towards more discretion in future.
Luna shrugged slightly, as though this was a minor detail; it certainly wasn't to Penelope. "I saw you both in the library the month before. You seemed to be very friendly." Then, her pale face lit up in a scene of childlike delight that seemed completely at odds with her serenity. "Is it a secret? I love secrets."
"Err… Yes, Luna," Penelope nodded; Okay, I'll go with that, "it is a secret. It's important that you not tell anyone."
"Is it because of his brothers?" Luna asked with startling shrewdness. By 'brothers', she almost certainly meant Fred and George and not the youngest one.
"Yes, it is," Penelope said firmly.
Luna nodded seriously. "Alright. You should both watch out for Nargles, then," she commented, returning to her faintly absentminded tranquility.
Considering where Luna had mentioned Nargles to enjoy hiding just a few minutes earlier, Penelope blushed.
Again ignoring Penelope's presence, Luna started to put up flyers again, pinning up an advertisement for The Quibbler with her wand; Penelope decided not to tell her that magic wasn't allowed in the halls.
Then, Penelope saw the flyer just beneath the one Luna had put up, and whipped it out of her younger classmate's arms.
Information wanted on lost shoes, please direct to Luna Lovegood, Ravenclaw, at Ravenclaw Tower, or in the Main Hall at breakfast, lunch or dinner.
Penelope looked at the flyer, then looked down.
She found herself noticing for the first time that Luna wasn't wearing any shoes.
"Luna!"
"Yes, Penelope?"
"You're not wearing any shoes!"
"Yes, I know."
"But aren't you cold?" Penelope spluttered, gaping at her. "It's the middle of December!"
"Just a little bit." Luna's voice was distinctly more vague than usual. "I stopped feeling the cold about an hour ago."
Delightful, just what I need. She probably has frostbite, considering how drafty the halls are. "Don't you have any more shoes in your dormitory?" Penelope demanded, allowing frustration to color her voice. "Don't tell me you only brought one pair to school."
"I brought more than one pair. But they keep disappearing, and I haven't been able to find any of them—the girls in my year think it's very funny," Luna added pointedly. Penelope got the hint.
Little monsters.
Penelope took Luna's arm and started to pull her in the general direction of the Ravenclaw Tower. "Come on, Luna, we're going back to the Common Room."
"Oh?" Luna asked, surprised. "I had assumed I would only be going back after I found my shoes." As an afterthought, she remarked, "I suppose it's probably safer in there; less mistletoe means less Nargles."
That gave Penelope pause. She let go of Luna's arm and stared down at her, brow furrowed. "Luna," she said gently, "we're going back to the common room so you can warm your feet by the fire—and don't argue!" she commanded when Luna opened her mouth. "Besides, don't you think that your "hidden"—" Penelope's tone sharpened "—shoes might be somewhere in the Tower?"
"Why would that be?"
"Because those who have taken your shoes might have hidden them somewhere in the Tower, believing that you wouldn't leave until you had found them instead of going around the school as though nothing was out of the ordinary?"
The little first year frowned pensively. "I never thought of it that way. Do you suppose that could be it?"
Penelope smiled weakly. "Anything's possible, Luna. Now let's go find your shoes." If the Heir of Slytherin wanted to burn down the school (Penelope supposed it was a possibility, even if he'd just been Petrifying people to start with), he was just going to have to wait until she got back.
The dotty little first year was distinctly mad, Penelope decided as they walked back to the Ravenclaw Tower. That she wore corks around her neck, went on and on about Nargles and Wrackspurts (whatever they were) and walked around in her (soaked; she'd been outside recently, it seemed) socks in December only proved it.
But Penelope had to admit there was something inherently endearing about little Luna Lovegood.