Albus Dumbledore was not having one of the better opening days of his tenure as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This was owing to several students he had a direct interest in.

First, and worst, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley had conducted themselves in as immature and foolish a manner as Dumbledore could think possible. He'd had a very unpleasant conversation with Severus where his potions master had pushed for their severe punishment, and then the opening feast had not proven as restful as he would have liked.

Dumbledore had kept his eyes on the Lovegoods since the funeral, as he'd promised himself, but he'd been able to learn an infuriatingly small amount about Luna, or the accident's details: Luna had been coated in the potion that her mother had been experimenting with, and that potion had effected at least surface changes in the girl, mainly her eye color. But as for what it did?

The experiment notes had been enchanted to be unreadable by any but an immediate blood family member, a parent or a child; Dumbledore was unwilling to undo the enchantment, as doing so risked destroying the text. Unfortunately, immediate 'blood' family member didn't extend to Solus Lovegood, and young Luna was indeed the only person who still qualified. She had read the notes, but had claimed through her father that her mother said they were supposed to be family only secret; her father had refused to allow Luna to be pressed further, and Dumbledore had already proven that her mind's contents could not be had easily.

Still, Molly had said the girl was quite close with her Ginny, and seemed somewhat happy most of the time, if very absentminded. And so Dumbledore had decided everything was well in that corner.

Until the Sorting Hat had screamed, and refused to declare a house for her.

And so, Albus had now decided that he needed to discover for himself just why the hat had had such a time with her, when it never had done such a thing in all his time at Hogwarts. And so, the Headmaster of Hogwarts dropped the Sorting Hat upon his own head.

"Quite a night, wasn't it, Professor?"

"You could say that. You know what I want to know of, of course."

"Young Miss Lovegood, I imagine. I am not sure how much I can say."

"And why is that? You should know her heart and mind. That is what you are for, is it not? Is Gryffindor the correct house for her?"

"It is, and it is, and it isn't."

"...What?"

"I cannot be clearer without breaking a promise to her I made. A warning I can give, because she didn't think to have me promise more specifically: Her mother was attempting to bring back the source of her family's strength. She succeeded, in Luna, partially."

"Her family's strength?"

"She does mean well, and she may save everything, in the end. Or destroy it. Good night, Headmaster."

And with that, the hat floated itself off of Dumbledore's head, landing on a shelf.

Dumbledore was related to Terra Lovegood, indirectly, as many of the purebloods were interrelated. And he knew the main claim to fame that that family had had – Terra Lovegood was a direct descendant of the witch who had invented Apparition. It had given the family a good deal of military power, until the invention of wards against the process several decades later, which eliminated the element of surprise and the usefulness of the combat technique that had been called "Wind Dancing", and the family had leveraged some further power out of Apparition by selling the method to the ministry. The money was mostly gone by now, but the one remaining benefit was that direct descendants of the inventor did not have to have a license to Apparate.

It had been a magical contract, and the law was inalterable, but for the most part the descendants were not told about that, by anyone, until they came of age, both for their own safety and for their parent's sanity.

It was clear that this had to be the source of power that Terra had been attempting to recreate. Perhaps it was a new method of magical travel...

Well, Albus mused, it was more than he'd had, and reassurances that Luna had good intentions were more than welcome. The hints that she had the power to act on those intentions less so, but he would have to just try and guide her, and ending up in Gryffindor would be a big help, irregular sorting or not.

That resolved, for the moment, Dumbledore moved on to his next problem – how to tell Professor Sprout that she needed to spend time the next morning mending the Whomping Willow.

A part of this plan she hadn't really thought through was just how dull classes were going to be. They'd always come easily to her, Luna mused, but going through them a second time... Well, at least it would be a chance to try electives she'd never done. Muggle Studies and Care of Magical Creatures didn't hold much appeal to her, but better that than repeating classes she'd done once...

Of course, the fact that she was musing to herself like this, rather than paying any attention at all to the Professor at the front of the class, was driving Hermione to be herself..

'Luna, pay attention! I know you know all of this, but you need to be able to fake like you're a first year or you'll never fit in without being noticed! And she's going to spot that you're not taking any notes or anything, and everyone else is going a mile a minute...'

Luna didn't reply, of course. Speaking in class out of turn was fine, to her, but doing so to argue with Hermione was just a waste of breathe. Especially since Luna had no real intention of hiding her ability. Still, the Gryffindor head of house was indeed looking rather irately at her, though she'd currently paused to hand out toothpicks to try to turn into needles.

Luna smiled as she took her toothpick, setting it on her desk and withdrawing her wand, when Professor McGonagall spoke up. "Now remember, class, think sharp and metal!"

Sharp and metal, Luna mused, waving her wand absently at the toothpick. A familiar requirement...

'Luna, NO!' Hermione's voice rang out, far too late. Luna looked down at her desk...

It was sharp. It was metal.

It was, however, not quite a needle, and it had attracted the Professor's attention. "Miss Lovegood! That is not quite what I had in mind!" McGonagall was looking rather cross, and Luna knew why.

The item on her desk was very familiar to Luna – a knife, rather a lovely one, curved and set with blue gems in the handle. Luna had never owned an actual one like it, but it was the one she always transfigured something to use to Dance with. And it was the one she'd used in her final battle. Luna picked up the knife, staring at it, looking at her own reflection in the blade...

And, in a flash, she saw herself, older, desperate. She saw a fight, the last fight. She saw herself move, twirling and vanishing, reappearing here and there to strike and dodge, weaving. She saw the others on her side, Hermione and several others, some of them falling in their own efforts at finally carrying the war for the side of Light and Right, but mostly winning, led by her own seemingly suicidal effort.

Luna saw herself, appearing before one of the remaining Death Eaters, drive the conjured blade into his chest, twist...

Luna saw her final kill drop to his knees, not fighting as the blood rushed from his chest, screaming as he ripped the hood and mask from his familiar face with his last effort...

Ronald never had been able to throw off the Imperius.

"MISS LOVEGOOD!" Professor McGonagall was actually yelling at her, finally bringing her back to the world and Luna dropped the knife back onto the table. "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor. Sharp... I thought of the wrong thing." Luna waved her wand once more, focusing a bit more, and the knife was a needle.

McGonagall raised her eyebrows, picking the needle up and examining it. "...Very fine work, Miss Lovegood. I'm glad you were paying attention, after all."

'...She's going to report this to the Headmaster, you know.'

"I know. ...Ah, thank you, Professor."

But Luna could hear the whispers in the rest of the class, and one in particular that did quite hurt, even if she knew it shouldn't.

Colin Creevy's voice, in the back of the classroom. "A knife like that..? Is she some sort of maniac? ...Or is it a lunatic?"

From there, it'd be Loony Lovegood in a few days, Luna mused. Well. Some things weren't escapable, and people thought what they would.

And so classes went, Luna completely failing to pay attention and acing her work regardless, rather infuriating Hermione. To Luna's slight disappointment, absolutely nothing had happened when she'd shaken Hermione's hand; she's rather hoped she'd have an ally in the world, rather than a voice in her head that told her to focus on classes and that she was making a huge mistake by 'showing off' her NEWT level skill.

Luna had revolted by discontinuing writing essays and instead transfiguring them onto parchment just before the class period they were due in, using her old ones from her first year. It would be interesting to see if they got different grades when she was in a different house, and when she was performing better on in-class exercises, after all.

She did indeed quickly notice differences in two classes: She was receiving slightly better grades in charms, possibly owing to Flitwick expecting more from his own students than from anyone else or possibly due to her having performed every charm covered so far correctly on the first try. She was, however, receiving considerably worse grades in potions.

Her grades in potions had never been great, by Ravenclaw standards, but she was somewhat skilled at the actual making and had received Es at both OWL and NEWT level. She was averaging two levels lower on the essays than she had the first time, for what she decided were obvious reasons.

Still, it was mostly just for her own amusement and to avoid being kicked out that she bothered with classwork at all.

Other things were more important, and Luna had definitely noticed Ginny's withdrawal from the world, though she hadn't interfered in it. Ginny had been a strong person, but Luna was convinced much of her strength came from the events of this year.

However, Luna knew that she couldn't allow for random chance to strike and get someone killed by the basilisk. It had been a miracle nobody had died the first time around. And so she had formed a plan that she certainly was NOT sharing with Hermione until the time came...

Luna didn't particularly care if Filch's familiar died, and that event was right next to the bathroom; there wasn't enough room to deal with things, there. She didn't interfere, instead enjoying the feast and trying to ignore the absence of Ginny, Ronald, Harry, and Hermione, as well as the firmly protesting voice in her head. She was getting quite good at ignoring that Hermione.

And, indeed, the Chamber of Secrets was opened without any cats dying, though one was indeed petrified. Luna's opportunity was two weeks later, the night of the Gryffindor-Slytherin quidditch match, for she knew when and where Colin Creevy was attacked.

Luna stayed awake, feigning sleep and waiting for her red-headed roommate to walk out of the room in a trance. Once Ginny did, Luna cast silencing charms on her curtains, closed them, and stood up on her bed.

"Thank you, Mother." she mumbled, as she turned, vanishing into air and reappearing at a stairwell near the infirmary, hiding in a shady alcove and waiting for Creevy, Ginny, and a certain snake... And making preparations.

Luna waved her wand, conjuring three things – a cloak, a scarf, a knife. "...I do hope the charms will take care of this, but better safe then sorry."

'Luna, you cannot POSSIBLY be planning on killing a basilisk with a knife that size. I know you're good, but nobody is that good.'

"I'm planning on killing it with blasting hexes, but it's magically.. Ssh!" Luna tilted her head, tying the scarf over her eyes – she noticed with some amusement that she'd actually conjured a Ravenclaw scarf – and pulling the cloak on. She didn't want Ginny to recognize her, after all, since she was planning on allowing the possession to continue a bit longer. Luna thought that this would force Riddle to abduct Ginny earlier, allowing Harry to go after her – possibly with some proper hints. But he'd have an easier time without the over-sized snake there...

"It's coming." Luna heard footsteps – Creevy – and a light hissing. A gasp, a hissing sound, the click of a camera, and a thud. More hissing... And Luna had the range from the sound.

A soft popping sound was unavoidable, of course, though it was a far cry from the crack that most wizards and witches produced upon apparating. Luna appeared directly above the basilisk, and she dropped down knife-first, aiming to try to get on top of it and straddle while blasting away.

She succeeded at sinking the knife into it, and holding on, but her blasting curse was not as effective as she'd hoped. Luna was covered in blood as a pit of the snake was taken out, but part of that damaged was the area in which she had her knife sunk, and Luna was sent flying as the snake thrashed about, crashing into a wall and sinking down against it. Her scarf slid off her eyes onto her lap, cut from behind in the impact with the wall, but that was luckily not of consequence – the basilisk, confused from the ambush and extremely wounded, still not having actually spotted her, was fleeing, and Riddle Ginny was leaving with it. Which was lucky, Luna contemplated as she felt at the back of her head.

...Some of the blood on her was her own. Quite a lot, really, though not compared to the amount flooding the hallway from the basilisk. Perhaps it would bleed to death, though it was more likely that Riddle would be able to patch it up. Still, it might be some time healing...

Luna heard Hermione's voice, distantly, yelling at her as she slid into darkness, completely coated in blood, in a hallway with a Petrified Colin Creevy and a knife that Professor McGonagall would undoubtedly immediately recognize.

She was going to have to plan better in the future, she decided.