It was mid-November and raindrops were pummeling the windows of Hogwarts.

Mud kept gathering in wet pools at the end of every corridor, even though Filch went around with his mop, grumbling. By that afternoon, if you went into any dormitory of a Hogwarts student, you would see wet robes bobbing up and down gently in the air, hung to dry by various spells. You'd also see wet shoes lined up by the side of the bed.

If you went into the kitchen, you'd see the house elves busily stirring chicken stew and chopping vegetables for dinner. If you went a little ways into the forest, you'd see Hagrid, with his pink umbrella slung over his shoulder, feeding the thestrals (Or maybe you wouldn't, it depends). And if you turned into the Hospital Wing of the school, you'd see two patients, both girls, seated on the same cot.

One girl had bushy hair and extremely long front teeth that she kept running her fingers over. The other, light-haired and large-eyed, sat on the cot, distractedly rubbing her foot, which was looking purplish-blue. She had just come in.

Madame Pomfrey greeted the light-haired girl hurriedly and rushed into the apothecary. Then she came out, carrying a sealed paper bag labeled "Shrivelfig Paste", unsealed it, added a few blocks of ice to it with a quick murmured spell and handed it to her. "That ought to get rid of the swelling. Did you drop a crystal ball on it in Divination, Miss Lovegood?"

"My shoe shrank and squished a part of my foot," the girl said.

Pomfrey gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Shoes generally don't shrink. It only seems that way when you're growing so fast. Hold this for about half an hour." Pomfrey turned to the other girl. "Now, Miss Granger, are you sure about this?"

The girl, whose first name was Hermione, nodded emphatically. "Absolutely. I've been in the hospital wing so many times, I might as well get something lasting out of it. I don't think I'll ever regret getting nice teeth."

"Oh are you using a spell to shrink her teeth?" asked the light-haired girl (whose name was Luna). "Which is it? Maybe it's the same one someone used to shrink my shoe." She smiled, eyes bright with curiosity.

"A secret treatment," Pomfrey said briskly. "I certainly cannot divulge how it is to be done. Now, I'll need to get some paperwork done first if I'm going to be devoting my evening to a student's teeth." She added to Hermione, "You'll have to wait for me" and bustled back into the apothecary room.

"Do you really think someone hexed your shoe on purpose to hurt you?" Hermione asked.

"Take a look." Luna pulled the black Mary-Jane shoe out of her bag. It did rather look like it would fit a 6 year-old.

"But who was it?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Luna said. "But I think it might have been Daphne Greengrass, a fourth year. What happened to you?"

"Also a hex. Except it was supposed to be my friend Harry that got hexed. The spell bounced. And I was all set to make an excellent Girding Solution." She gave a frustrated sigh. "I don't suppose Snape took any points away from the person who did it either."

"Oh, were you in Snape's class when it happened? So was I." Luna smiled. "Snape must be having quite a day."

"Did Snape act hateful when you asked to leave?"

"No, he could see that my foot really hurt," Luna explained. She presses the sealed bag to her foot and winced.

Hermione stared. "Snape doesn't care about things like that. He's vindictive."

Luna frowned and shook her head slowly. "No, no. It's true, he doesn't care about people feeling embarrassed or awkward or frightened. I think he enjoys those things. But he cares about real pain." For a moment, her eyes rested on her lap, then lit up with a fresh thought. "I should tell him about what I saw."

"What did you see?"

Luna glanced towards the apothecary room furtively. "Now, this is secret. Nobody saw it but me and the wrackspurts."

"The what?" Hermione's eyes widened over her huge, elongated teeth.

"Anyway, they don't talk. So I'll need you to keep the secret."

"I'll keep the secret," Hermione said impatiently. "Now what did you see?"

"I was in the middle of making my Confusing Concoction and I accidentally burned my stirring stick to a crisp. So I headed to the student-store cupboard at the back of the room to get another one. And Daphne, a fourth year, was there, sorting the ingredients. I'm a third year by the way, so she isn't in my class. She was there to help out."

Hermione shrugged. "So? Snape always has some Slytherin girl fixing up and labeling his bottles and jars at the beginning of the year. Is Daphne a Slytherin?"

"Yes. But as I approached the cupboard, I saw her slipping a bag of something into her pocket. Then she waved her wand over it and murmured something. And then she looked up and saw me and said, 'What are you doing here? Go back to your seat now.' I pointed at the stirring sticks without saying a word. Then she thrust one in my hands and I went back to my seat. Within a half hour, my shoe started shrinking and nearly squished my foot into a flat slab."

"If she did it, she's a rat," Hermione said. "You didn't even do anything! But you don't know what it was that she took?"

"It looked like a bag of black seeds." Luna looked conflicted. "I ought to tell Snape all about it. He trusts Daphne."

"Wait a minute...Shouldn't you try to figure out why she took them? It is possible she had a reason." Hermione looked uncomfortable. "Sometimes, people steal ingredients for something truly important."

"But if it was a real emergency, she could have asked," Luna said innocently, still pressing the cold pack full of Shrivelfig paste to her foot.

"It isn't always easy to ask Snape for things."

Luna spoke slowly as if puzzling it out for herself. "Even if what she did isn't as bad as stealing from Snape's private desk, it's still stealing because we're only supposed to use the cupboard ingredients during class. In fact, I would tell Snape about it right now, if it wasn't for her name."

"What do you mean, her name? She'd still be a girl who stole from Snape's cupboard whatever her name is, wouldn't she?"

"Yes," Luna reflected. "But it would be a completely different situation if she had another name."

"I don't see how," Hermione said stubbornly. "There's a muggle saying, something about a rose smelling as sweet with any other name. My dad likes to quote it."

"Oh, that sounds nice," Luna said. "Yes, a rose might smell as sweet. But with Daphne, it's different. Even if Daphne was a haughty show-off and a bully to the first years, and even if she hexed me, her name is still not just any name."

"Is she a bully to the first years?"

"I've never seen her act like a bully," Luna said. "I've hardly seen her at all except from far away. Oh dear, that's the dinner bell." She got lost in thought for a moment. "Of course, I might have also been hexed by the Trying Trio."

"The what?"

"It's difficult to explain," said Luna and smiled vaguely. She stood, limping a little.

Hermione felt the curiosity within her egging her on. "All right," she said. "Can you meet me after dinner by the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's office? I want to hear you tell me about the Trying Trioand Daphne and, maybe, I can help you make sense of it and decide what to do. I'm, well, I'm known for being sort of bright."

Luna beamed. "That's very kind of you. But we can hardly stand in the corridor the whole time."

"Oh there's a spare classroom," Hermione said. "When Moody came at the beginning of the year, I think he brought so much stuff with him that he was forced to carry all the defensive theory books out of his office and into the neighboring room. I keep wanting to go there and read but it's been a busier year than I thought." She sighed. "So I'll see you at 8."

"But won't you be having dinner too?" Luna asked.

"I need my teeth done and now's the only time," Hermione said stubbornly. "It's all right. I'll see if I can find Hagrid or Flitwick in the staffroom if I have a minute before our meeting. They both carry snacks with them. Except Hagrid's usually need a little...adjusting." She tapped her wand with her index finger. "But nothing too difficult. I'll see you soon."

When Luna came down the grand staircase, it was already 20 minutes past 6.

She hurried down the first floor corridor when she suddenly heard a voice. A clear voice coming from a spare classroom, saying, "Stop, right there, Luna Lovegood. What has happened to you?"

Luna stopped. The wooden door was already open a crack, so she slipped in, still limping. "I got slightly hurt in Potions but I'm all right now," she said lightly.

The voice that had been calling her was coming from a portrait on the wall, one of a teenage girl, dressed in dark Hogwarts robes and a green scarf. It was the only portrait in the dusty, cluttered classroom. The girl in the painting looked slightly angry but also relieved at the sight of Luna. She said, "When you didn't come to get your glassy thing, I wondered what went wrong. You said you'd come get it before dinner."

Next to the large oil-portrait, an easel had been set up, with parchment and some paints. The parchment displayed a few, beginning strokes that gave an unmistakable impression of a face, similar to the face of the girl in the portrait. Paints and paintbrushes were all set up in front of the easel and the name "Luna" was etched on the side of the box of paints.

"The glassy thing has a name, Andromeda," Luna said patiently. "I've told you what it was called at least 3 times. It's a Skill-Stealer." She glanced carefully at the corridor. "This is not a good time for me to stop by. Somebody might hear our voices and I'll never find another spot as great as this for painting alone."

"I only called you because I saw your reflection on the side of the door as you were passing. And you've never failed to stop by to get your glassy thing back before," said the portrait of Andromeda. "Not that I don't enjoy using it. It's much more entertaining watching things in it than hanging by the Slytherin entrance and seeing the students throw insults and jibes at each other every second. They're not very nice to each other over there."

Luna picked up a cone-shaped glass object that was lying among the paintbrushes. "I had so much on my mind, I completely forgot."

"I hope that's going to heal up," said the portrait, eyeing Luna's foot.

Luna didn't even give her foot a second glance. She already seemed to be distracted by a new thought. "Andromeda," she said. "Are you my friend?"

The girl in the portrait hesitated. "As much as a picture and a human can be friends, I supposed I am yours," she finally said. "After all, nobody else was worried about you, were they?"

"I suppose not," Luna said. "Well, I'd better hurry along to dinner, it's half over by now. Can I come in and copy you for a bit tomorrow morning?" She motioned to the paintbrushes.

"Tomorrow is as good as any day for me," the portrait of Andromeda said, smiling. "Besides, we've got an agreement, don't we?"

"Yes. I show you interesting things in my Skill-Stealer, and you let me copy you." Luna slipped the glass cone into the right pocket of her robe. "I hope you get enough sleep."

"I don't have to sleep, so it doesn't much matter," shrugged Andromeda. "As for that foot, I recommend Shrivelfig Paste."

"Already done." And Luna headed out, her stomach rumbling.