Author's note:
The last chapter was Luna's perspective from page 168 (when she's introduced to the storyline) to page 180 (the end of the chapter). The next chapter is Luna's perspective on Chapter Eleven "The Sorting Hat's New Song", though she leaves the storyline on page 182 and resurfaces in a sentence on page 192. It is, once again, actually correct when it comes to the character's actions, but merely talks about Luna's interpretations of them. Involves an article from The Quibbler you can find on page 174, which fights for attention during Umbridge's speech.
Luna tried to veil the hurt she felt at Harry Potter's reaction to her statement. He didn't mention the Thestrals again, but Luna noticed him glance at the reptilian silhouettes outside the window every so often. Clearly, he was thinking he was insane, or worse. Proof that he wasn't alone in seeing things didn't make him believe that he wasn't.
"Did everyone see that Grubbly-Plank woman?" Ginny asked.
Luna refocused on the conversation. She hadn't been able to finish The Quibbler yet, and therefor kept it on her, but she felt no urge to turn back to it any time soon, so she decided she could at least contribute to the discussion.
"What's she doing back here?" Ginny continued. "Hagrid can't have left, can he?"
"I'll be quite glad if he has," Luna piped up. "He isn't a very good teacher, is he?"
"Yes, he is!" Harry Potter, Ron and Ginny retorted automatically.
Hermione was silent, earning her a glare from Harry Potter. Noticing it, she cleared her throat and quickly added, "Erm...yes...he's very good."
"Well, we in Ravenclaw think he's a bit of a joke," Luna ploughed on. It wasn't difficult to notice the bias in her companion's opinions.
"You've got a rubbish sense of humour then," Ron snapped angrily.
Luna turned to him, but privately decided that continuing to take part in this discussion would only antagonise her classmates further. Ron, in particular, seemed increasingly capable of humiliating her.
He was, Luna knew, the youngest son in a pureblood family. The Lovegoods and the Weasleys never interacted much, but Luna remembered, faintly, that his mother was a kindly woman, and his father, she recalled him mentioning at one point, was Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department. Despite this, Luna remembered the family to be rather poor. She had heard that the entire family was famous for every single member being Sorted into Gryffindor, and she knew the family to be large, though how large she didn't know. She'd heard that they were recognisable by the flaming red hair, the freckles and second-hand possessions, which both Ginny and Ron shared. Whereas Ginny's eyes were brown, however, Ron's were blue, and whereas Ginny was rather small for her age, Ron was rather tall. Ron also possessed an extraordinary insensitivity, a trait that singled him out from his friends. Hermione was perceptive, to a certain degree. Harry Potter, at least, had an eye for identifying something wrong in the situation. Ron, on the other hand, was humorous, almost boisterously so, but blind.
Luna pitied him a little for it. It seemed a disability beside his friends.
She turned away, and looked towards the castle that had become her home in the past few years, and would once again be so shortly. The carriages rattled away smoothly past the winged boars that guarded the gates to the intimidating school. The turrets loomed ever closer, and the windows soon exposed the torchlit corridors. Very soon, Luna identified the tall Astronomy and Ravenclaw towers, and her keen eyes picked out the Quidditch pitch in the darkness.
The carriages halted before the stone steps that led to the oak front doors. Luna eagerly leapt up, but it was Harry Potter who stepped out first. She soon followed him, and covertly noticed him glance hopefully to Hagrid's dark hut, then turn to the Thestrals, clearly wishing they were gone, adding more hurt to Luna's enigmatic emotions.
"Are you coming or what?" Ron asked impatiently.
"Oh...yeah," Harry Potter answered hastily, and together they joined their fellow pupils.
Luna ignored the three friends as she cut through the masses that crossed the Entrance Hall and entered the Great Hall to the right. Just like at Hogsmeade Station, the crowd jostled forward, pressing her in from all directions, but there was a scrutiny here that had been difficult to attain in the darkness. Students formed their cliques, if they hadn't already, and Loony Lovegood was given a berth as wide as possible. At least it means you have the freedom to move, Luna reminded herself, attempting to suppress the bitterness inside her, but it stuck to her with a Permanent Sticking Charm.
The Great Hall was as majestic as ever, Luna recognised. The torches were ablaze and their light was reflected by the polished cutlery on the four mahogany tables. The floating candles were brighter than usual, and their light was honeyed orbs against the starless sky, which mimicked the actual night sky. Luna observed the actual sky outside, and thought that it reflected her emotions better than the ceiling reflected the weather. Indecisive, but firmly damp, with a wind whistling at the windows. It was partly caused by her trip to the school, but mostly caused by the glances she received by her fellow students. They shuffled over or mentioned something about saving seats for someone else when she approached, but Luna finally had the misfortune to find an empty seat two seats away from Cho Chang and her friends. The two seats that separated the Ravenclaw oddity from some of the school's most popular sixth-years were soon filled by the newly made prefect Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner, with Terry Boot taking a seat opposite her. "Hey, Loony," Terry greeted her, whereas Anthony and Michael ignored her, looking repulsed.
"Hello, Terry," Luna greeted in return. "Did you have a nice summer?"
"It was all right," Terry answered with a shrug. "At least, it wasn't spent fishing for Freshwater Plimpies."
Anthony and Michael sniggered, but Luna did not see the humour or insult of Terry's statement, and merely turned away just as the doors to the Great Hall opened. Professor McGonagall led the long line of pale first-years to the stool in front of the staff table, and placed the Sorting Hat on the stool.
Luna sat up, straighter; ever since last year, she had come to regard the Sorting Hat's songs as a kind of omen, and she made sure to listen closely, and commit it to memory. She was the only one this alert to the Sorting Hat's song, but still the entire school awaited it eagerly. The Sorting Hat kept the suspense for few seconds, then the brim opened like a mouth and it burst into song:
In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
This much, Luna knew already, was fact, but she did question whether the founder's goals had been so ambitious. Perhaps Hogwarts had begun out of a questioning of Britain's educational system, or perhaps the lack of it. Luna presumed that, before Hogwarts, children were merely homeschooled, or tutored, but she also wondered what would happen to Muggle-borns. Were they ever found by the wizarding world? Or, after a series of unfortunate displays of magic, did they ever end a short life by "witch-burning" (Luna recalled the term from A History of Magic), or did they manage to escape this fate and live their lives on the run? According to Professor Binns (Luna paid attention to him; her father had taught her to), such records could never be found. The Sorting Hat continued on.
"Together we will build and teach!"
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might some day be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
The Sorting Hat always maundered on about the unity of the founders, Luna recalled. Whether it had actually been there, she questioned, but there was a certain ring of truth to the tale anyway. The Sorting Hat was, after all, ancient, and certain artefacts of these times remained at large, from what she knew, though they were known to vanish occasionally. From what her father had told her, for example, the Deathly Hallows had remained at large from some centuries before Hogwarts and been known to reappear a good time later. She had been told that the legend of the Elder Wand had ended some time in the eighteenth century. It was a possibility that the Sorting Hat had actually been Godric Gryffindor's. His sword was still in this very castle, after all.
Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest."
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest."
Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name."
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same."
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A house in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the houses and their founders
Retained friendship firm and true.
Of course, for the first-year's benefit, the Sorting Hat had to explain to those who didn't know by now what the houses were, but for story-tale measure, it had decided this year to explain the ideals of the founders. Luna doubted this to be actually what happened. It was a testament to their character, naturally, but too firm. She always imagined long nights after Hogwarts had been built (which also came to her interest; Hogwarts had seven floors and far too many secret passageways, how could the founders still be alive and not of retirement age when it was complete?) spent discussing the curriculum, the rules, the punishments. She imagined a good decade before the school was officially opened.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then the discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up the school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with duelling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
Leaving a Basilisk to slumber beneath the lake, no less, Luna added with her strange sense of humour. He always needed another option, of a sort. She too well remembered the air of fear in her first year, when her father had considered sending her back home, and only after a dozen furious owls (and another dozen Howlers) did he reconsider. She herself had been terrified, because even then she had been an outcast. She had been a good deal more frightened than most people, forced to walk the corridors alone, for she had been of the opinion that the fact that all victims were Muggle-born was a coincidence. After all, a cat and the Gryffindor ghost had also been attacked, and the same applied for Ginny Weasley, a pureblood. Perhaps it's because the corridors were empty, she remembered thinking, as she walked another empty corridor, petrified but thankfully not yet Petrified. That had been Slytherin's fault, and she wondered whether the other founders had actually been downhearted, or merely relieved that a threat to the school was gone.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
Proof of my theory, Luna added wryly.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into houses
Because that is what I'm for,
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfil my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether Sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you...
Let the Sorting now begin.
Luna applauded the Hat for its new song, as everyone did, but she noticed the concern flicking across expressions. "That was cheerful," Terry remarked sarcastically to Anthony and Michael.
"It was quite possibly the most cheerful warning we can get," Luna replied in the place of Terry's mates.
"What's that supposed to-"
"Careful," Luna warned, interrupting Terry's question, and she indicated towards Professor McGonagall, who was now giving the students an evil eye.
"Abercrombie, Euan."
One of the more terrified first-years stumbled towards the Hat and put it on. The Hat considered the boy for a moment, then shouted:
"Gryffindor!"
Gryffindor clapped happily for their new recruit, but poor Euan merely appeared to wish for ways to never become visible again.
Luna mused over the Sorting Hat's song as the subject in question Sorted the first-years to one of the four tables. At last, she reached the conclusion to write the Sorting Hat's song down before she went to bed, just as Rose Zeller was declared a Hufflepuff, and the Sorting Hat and stool were whisked away by Professor McGonagall as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.
"To our newcomers," the Headmaster said, beaming around the Great Hall, arms outstretched and voice ringing, "welcome! To our old hands-welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"
Luna laughed a little and clapped as Professor Dumbledore sat down again, throwing his beard over his shoulder to avoid it falling on his plate, and turned her attention to the feast in front of her. Around her, others were doing the same, but with less eagerness than she was. They had eaten on the train, it seemed. She handed herself to some meatballs and mashed potatoes, just as Terry opposite her asked, "So, what did you mean, earlier?"
Luna looked at him, startled. Usually, people didn't address her unless she addressed them first, but it wasn't often people wanted to finish a conversation with her. "Well," she began slowly, recollecting her train of thought as she helped herself to peas and carrots, "everyone is warning us right now, aren't they? The Sorting Hat, Harry Potter, Professor Dumbledore..."
"You think they're all warning us of the same thing?" Terry now almost interrogated her sceptically. "I mean, I know Potter and Dumbledore are, but that's rubbish, right?"
"You only think it rubbish," Luna pointed out, "because the Ministry is telling you it-"
"Wait," Terry interrupted. "The Ministry? It's the Daily Prophet that's telling us everything's fine."
"The Daily Prophet reports information from the Ministry, though," Luna continued, "but the Sorting Hat telling us this as well-" she broke off, frowning. "That can't be coincidental."
"Well, not exactly coincidental, is it?" Terry pointed out. "It lives in Dumbledore's office, doesn't it?"
"True," Luna conceded, "but Professor Dumbledore has a number of reliable sources."
"Are you sure? Because it seems to me that he's become biased, these days. I mean, him trusting his favourite student and all-"
"He does have a dead body in his favour," Luna answered, now a little cooly. "Whereas the Ministry has no proof explaining Cedric Diggory's death. They say it was a tragic accident, whereas Harry Potter is telling us it was murder, and, if willing to speak about it, could quite possibly give you a great deal of detail. The Ministry, on the other hand, is telling us it was a foolish mistake on the part of the teachers. How? The Triwizard Tournament was designed by quite possibly the brightest mind in Europe. They took every chance for it to be safe. But then Harry Potter Portkeyed out of the maze with Cedric Diggory's body. There should have been an inquiry about it. There is not a single possibility that transforming the Cup into a Portkey was a part of the third task. All the teachers were supervising at Hogwarts. You must have seen them. And I can't tell you about a Tournament with four champions. It would never have been done. It would have been far too dishonourable. May I please have the gravy?"
Terry handed her the gravy, quiet, mulling over her argument. "I talked to Susan Bones on the train," he said finally, "she said Potter had broken the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statue of Secrecy again. Her aunt interrogated him."
Luna choked on some peas. "Pardon?"
"He did a Patronus Charm in the presence of a Muggle."
"Do you know who the Muggle is?" Luna asked.
"I think the Muggle was Potter's cousin," Terry answered, frowning. "I don't get why they're so worried about that bit. I mean-Potter's cousin-he must know about the wizarding world."
Luna waved this aside. "What happened?"
"There was a full trial with the Wizengamot. He got away with it. Dumbledore showed up, backed up his story about Dementors-"
"Dementors?" Luna asked, horrified.
"Yes, are you listening?" Terry asked impatiently.
"All too well," Luna said, swallowing some mashed potatoes.
"Right," Terry continued, disgruntled. "Anyway, Dumbledore showed up, procured some witness-"
"Who? Not Harry Potter's cousin?"
"No-some Squib neighbour, I think-only Potter's broken the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery before, and he got away with it again, because of Dumbledore. I heard he blew up his aunt once, did you know?"
"Blew up his aunt?" Luna repeated, dumbfounded. "But-that's far too complex-it must've been a couple of summers back-it must've been out-of-control magic-are you sure this is after first year?"
"I'm sure," Terry replied, confident. "Mind, I heard Potter's relatives are terrible."
"Well, I think that clears that bit up," Luna answered, dismissing the matter, and helped herself to a second serving.
Once dessert was over, Luna waited expectantly for Professor Dumbledore's speech. He finally rose, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silver stars and a matching hat, as the noise level crept up again.
"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast," Professor Dumbledore began, blue eyes twinkling merrily, "I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students-and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too. Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door." (Because we all want to go near the office, Luna sarcastically thought.)
"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher."
There was a short round of polite but fairly not delighted applause, and Luna observed her new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. She was a squat, short, curly brown-haired person, with a pallid, toad-like face and prominent pouchy eyes. She wore a pink Alice band that matched with a fluffy pink cardigan that covered her robes. She looked like a maiden aunt.
"Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the-"
He broke off with an enquiring glance towards Professor Umbridge, ensuing confusion around the room. It took Luna some time to understand that she, too, had risen to her feet. She cleared her throat with a sickly sweet "Hem, hem", clearly intending to make a speech.
Professor Dumbledore appeared taken aback for a moment, then sat down smartly.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge began, simpering, "for those kind words of welcome."
She cleared her throat once more and smiled. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking up at me! I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"
Once again, she cleared her throat, looking down at the unimpressed students, and continued in a far more businesslike manner.
"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique..."
As her new teacher drilled on, Luna took out The Quibbler from underneath her robes and began reading the first article she saw, which was concerning Cornelius Fudge and his abuse of goblins, and not very fascinating, but still. It was better than this drivel.
Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, denied that he had any plans to take over the running...
"...down the generations lest we..."
...of the Wizarding Bank, Gringotts, when he was elected as Minister for Magic...
"...The trove of magical knowledge..."
...five years ago. Fudge has...
"Hem, hem. Ever headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts..."
...always insisted that he wants nothing more than to...
"...progress for progress's sake must be discouraged..."
..."co-operate peacefully" with...
"...A balance, then, between..."
...the guardians of our gold...
"...permanence and..."
...BUT DOES HE?...
"...trading and innovation..."
...Sources close to the Minister have recently disclosed that Fudge's dearest ambition is to seize control of the goblin gold supplies and that he will not hesitate to use force if need be...
"...because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the..."
..."It wouldn't be the first time, either," said a Ministry insider. "Cornelius 'Goblin-Crusher' Fudge, that's what-
Luna closed the article. Even this wasn't blocking out the speech.
"...intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfect what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."
Professor Dumbledore clapped, amongst some unenthusiastic teachers, and very few students. The headmaster rose to his feet again.
"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating. Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held..."
"That bad, huh?" Terry smirked at her. "Not even The Quibbler can block it out."
"It sounded like one of Binns's goblin rebellions," Anthony said, quite honestly.
"No, it was worse," Luna responded, and leapt to her feet, since Professor Dumbledore had just dismissed them. The three boys joined her on her way to the Ravenclaw common room.
"Well, it had some interesting bits to it, didn't it?" Terry asked.
"It sounded like she learnt it in a manual," Luna replied. "I do hope her classes won't be as bad as that...'progress for progress's sake must be discouraged'...'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited'...I would like to know how she ever got the profession."
"Courage," Terry answered, making Michael snort. "Only one to take on the job...it's jinxed, we all know that."
"And how many of us will be upset when she's gone?" Michael asked. "You, Loony?"
Luna shuddered. "Don't talk like that. What happened to Professor Lockhart was awful-"
"He deserved it, though, didn't he?" Anthony interjected. "Right old fraud..."
"Our first Defence against the Dark Arts teacher worked for You-Know-Who," Michael put in darkly, talking to Luna.
"That's right," Terry added, "didn't he die down in the dungeons?"
"Wasn't Potter involved-"
"What is the greatest threat to a life?" the bronze door-knocker asked.
"For a warrior, his opponent, for a wife, her husband's interest, for a child, his adventures, for the bravest, his fear," Luna answered. She had discovered a while ago that it accepted any answer that wasn't "I don't know."
The door swung open, admitting the four Ravenclaws. "Night, Loony," Anthony bid her for his friends.
Luna smiled and took her leave, and entered the fourth-year girl's dormitory. She had a window-side bed this time, she noticed. She took out a quill and parchment and went back down to the common room. It was empty, now.
Luna took her place by the fireplace and pointed her wand at the fireplace, murmuring "Incendio."
She briefly chronicled the Sorting Hat's new song, but when she was finished, her exhaustion was such that she fell asleep, lethargic in the armchair.