Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling & BtVS belongs to Joss Whedon.
A/N: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.
Luna's Third Year: In Which There Are Lots of People at the School (and a Tournament)
Part Three:
She does not like the Cup itself - it is a lovely magical object certainly, a cup of fire entrancing to the eye, and probably an incredibly complicated magical construct able to make decisions between candidates in a way similar to the Sorting Hat she supposes (although Mr. Hat is a much better conversationalist)….but she does not like it. (And not in the same way she does not like Professor Moody's class. He is human, she does not doubt that, but what her eyes see do not fit what her other senses tell her and the dichotomy makes her feel almost physically ill - he simply does not feel right.)
Luna tilts her head watching it carefully from her seated position amongst her fellow Ravenclaws, ignoring their odd looks as she stares unblinkingly at the licking blue flame while the Headmaster gives his speech before the choosing.
Choosing.
Perhaps that is it - why she has a feeling of uneasiness about this whole proceeding because "worthy" names of "Champions" are about to be chosen to fight in a dangerous Tournament for gold and pride. Tying them to a contract that they cannot break as soon as they enter their names into a cup.
Breaking it down to the component parts there are only the tiniest of similarities to her own Choosing. But maybe that is still enough to cause this feeling...
Because Luna supposes her name must have been written down by Fate somewhere as soon as she was born, as was her Mother (and so many Slayers - and Potentials - before). They was Chosen, with no want for fame, glory, or riches. Their only hope becoming to try and live as long as possible.
She is shaken out of such morbid thoughts by the flames changing from blue to red and moving about, spiting out the first name. Dumbledore grabbed the bit of paper and declared, "The Champion for Durmstrang will be Victor Krum!"
There were cheers and applause from the whole Hall at the announcement of the boy's name and when he walked past Luna vaguely recognized his face from the front page of other newspapers. He had something to do with Quidditch she knew - but since her Father, and all of his main contributors, had always had rather more specialized subjects for the Quibbler, such main stream news had always been tangential to her. Picked up in bits and pieces through Ginny or overhearing others' conversations throughout the day.
The room quieted again as the next name was released from the fire. "The Champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"
Upon being chosen, the girl who set off her Slayer senses stood, their eyes again meeting (that bit of fear rising up before being tucked away) before her back straightened and she swept away. But at least Luna knew her name now, it had been so troublesome to think of her as the lovely blonde French girl - that wouldn't be right to call her if they ever met (for one it was much too long). Some of her sisters in her mind simply called her Veela but she thought that was rather rude, like if someone simply called her Witch or Human. (It didn't quite count that many in the Forest called her Slayer, that was almost a title, they said it with respect.)
Everyone knew what came next, whose school had not had a representative chosen yet - and so it felt like a collective breath was being held before the Cup gave up the the final name. And from this last bit of parchment, the Headmaster read, "The Hogwarts Champion is Cedric Diggory!"
Luna almost smiled at the roar of approval that erupted from Hufflepuff's table. The House so often overlooked was now getting a chance to represent the entire school. And Luna liked Cedric, he had been kind to her on more than one occasion - she had heard him reprimand more than a few other students for the unkind things they said about her (one of the very few pleasant surprises her enhanced hearing had picked up in this school). Truly, it was because she found him kind that she wished he was not a part of this - but she could not deny the pride he and his House were taking from the experience (and at least it was his choice.)
She tried to relax then, this part of it at least was over. Except - except, that wasn't the final name and she felt dread settle into her heavily (her muscles automatically coiling tightly in anticipation of the need to fight) when that horrible stupid Cup flared another time. And she knew - oh, Luna knew even before Dumbledore opened his mouth what name he would say - because her friend could never escape being the center of action (no matter how much he wished to). His name had been written down by Fate against his will as well.
So, Luna clenched her hands in fists under the table so hard it hurt, and felt like she was watching a terrible accident happen in slow motion as the Headmaster cleared his throat and read out: "Harry Potter."
Part Four:
Happily the day after all of the hullabulla was a Sunday because Luna day was unexpectedly filled with encounters with two of the newly chosen Champions.
Well, one she was certain purposefully searched her out - Harry, she simply ran into in the Owlry while she was mailing a letter to her Father and he to his Godfather.
But once he saw her, Harry seemed very tense about what she would say - and when she simply acted as she always did. Saying "hullo," before greeting her boreal owl (which had been dark brow when her Father had brought him back from Sweden the year she was leaving for Hogwarts but had lightened drastically as he matured), Henry who wished to talk to her a bit and be petted before he would take her message.
Finally after both of their owls had flown off Harry pressed her for her opinion on what she thought, if she believed that he hadn't tried to become the Fourth Champion.
And Luna had stared at the boy in front of her blankly for so long he had begun to fidget, but finally began to slowly smile and shake her head almost to baffled for words.
"What?" Harry said defensively.
"You really don't know, do you?" Luna asked. "I'm sorry," she said, honestly upset at her oversight in this. "I didn't intend that to sound mean, Harry. But there is just so much that I grew up feeling like I knew instantly, it is dreadfully hard to untangle sometimes what is in other people's minds when mine is so very full." (She knew she had already told Ginny when they were both very young and explained to Glinda during one of their patrols about the Dark Forest).
He had tensed, frowning as she spoke, his green eyes wide as he stayed silent - most likely confused. And she simply continued her explanation, not wishing to seem as if she was teasing him now, when the whole school seemed to be acting so very strangely.
"You're my friend, Harry," she said simply. "Friends are very important to me, to my family. To us, being friends with someone isn't just something you say - it is practically the same thing as being family. Perhaps that is why Lovegoods have so few. So, of course I trust you. How could I not? You have no reason to want to put your name in that stupid Cup."
He stared at her for a long beat before pulling her into a hug - it was abrupt and her arms were a bit in the way, and she giggled as she moved them around him (ignoring her sister-Slayer's gentle teasing). When they broke apart after only a few moments he gave her a shy grin and said, "I've never had a family; not one that's alive and doesn't hate me anyhow."
"Well now you do - Stubby and me are your family," she said decisively.
She spent quite a bit of time speaking with Harry there, sitting upon the hay in the Owlry with light filtered softly through the dust and feathers and only the hoot of owl's murmuring to each other in the background - it felt safe, like a bubble of protected space. And it was a good conversation for both of them Luna thinks. She feels lighter when they leave, and Harry seems to as well (which she thinks is an even greater feat given how tense her friend was.)
Harry goes off to find Ron and she is humming as she wanders off to the Library when another very distinct presence approaches. And she can feel the older girl coming quite some time before even a flash of her preternaturally bright hair appears around the corner of the empty hallway.
This time Fleur' eyes do not widen when they catch each others - although those blue orbs are plenty wide already with fear tightly controlled - and she is very clearly making herself approach Luna.
She goes still when she realizes this, not knowing what the French witch wants but not wishing to make it more difficult either. As she gets closer and closer, the Slayer part of her could feel what the other girl was even more clearly. Not the lustful effects that the boys fell into in her presence. At it's roots, this felt avian in nature to her; feathers - it almost tickled.
She was very pretty though, not at all bird like (even up close), but Luna was more worried about how scared she seemed then her appearance. When she was within a few feet her eyes darted around the hallway making sure it was empty before shuffling forward a bit more to where Luna stood, bowing her head, murmuring in recognition, "Tueur."
Slayer, Josette translates seamlessly in her mind. One of the huge pluses of having so many people populate her brain was the ability to understand quite a few languages with barely a pause. Speak them - no; understand - yes.
"I prefer, Luna," she responds with a smile, hoping to calm the part-Veela.
"I did not know your name," the Beauxbaton's student, admitted with a blush, her eyes darting up before dropping down immediately again. "I am Fleur," She took a deep, steadying breath, "I- I ask for zee safety of myself and zee Delacour family if zey are to come later for zee Tournament. We mean no harm," she ended entreatingly, careful enunciating the last two words.
This was Luna's first real brush with someone fearing her - and she did not like it. Was uncomfortable with the feeling being directed at her (because of something she was) and simply did not want it to continue. Because of this, she was perhaps slow to respond as she thought through how to approach the situation (conversed quickly with Josette, Hazel, and a few others who had covered this ground - geographically -when they were alive or were simply diplomatic in nature) and choose her words carefully.
"Fleur, I understand that there has been some rather bad situations where many Slayers were of the mindset that anything non-human was evil. But please understand that as all witches and wizards are different - and all Veelas - so to are no two Slayers the same. My Father is a magizoologist writer, I knew long before I was Called that there were many variances in the world, and you should not judge a People on what they can do. If you are not purposefully using your abilities to harm, then I have no fight with you."
Fleur seemed truly startled by this turn of events but did not let it throw her for her a loop for very long. "Truly?" she asked, and when Luna nodded she smiled brightly, a true happy grin that did not brush against her power whatsoever but made her want to smile back simply because the other girl seemed so genuinely happy.
"I have been scared," she admitted. "I do not like being scared. Zat is perhaps silly to say; non? But zere are stories - old tales zat grandmothers tell, about zee Tueur and how she feels hot to our senses, a burning predator. Never prey. Zee stories tell of what she will do to zee bad Veela who prey upon the wizards simply for zeir own vanity or gold." Luna was fascinated by these legends of her Sisters told by another group.
"And when I came to zis school I felt you - I felt zee way zat you burned. And I knew zee way it always looks, zat however cold I could act, zere would still be boys falling over zemselves because..."
"Because at this age their is no way for a Veela - or Part-Veela to have full control over their powers," Luna finished for her. "You're in puberty, your power is growing and fluctuating as well as finding balance with your magic."
She giggled at the surprised stare she was receiving, "I told you I was the spawn of a magizoologist. Didn't I?" (She also had may Slayers in her mind who had both researched and had contact with the Veela's but didn't think that was necessary to add.) "I haven't seen you purposefully trying to break up any couples - and I don't put stock in rumors - so any attraction people are feeling is not something you can control or I have any concern with. Really," Luna frowned, "if I started worrying about everyone effected by your subconscious aura I'd just be following you about the entire school dousing boys with water."
Fleur giggled at the mental picture. "You have been keeping an eye on me zen - I am glad I passed your test, Tueur," she gave a mock-curtsey (that was flawless none the less.) "Was zeir a particular boy that you were keeping an eye on his reactions to my Veela charm," she teased, some of her confidence back now that she was no longer terrified. "Someone you did not wish to be broken apart from perhaps?" Fluer questioned with a smile.
"No," Luna responded simply, "I don't think any boys think of me that way yet - and I haven't been thinking about them either," she answered bluntly (and without any of the blushing or giggling she had never understood why always seemed to accompany this sort of talk amongst her roommates). "Perhaps in a few years but if you know enough to fear me like you did, then you know that it's unlikely I will live that long."
Fleur gave her a look like she had sucker punched her.
She touched the older girls arm gently, "I'm sorry - I truly wasn't trying to be shocking, Fleur. I thought that was rather common knowledge about my kind."
"Oui," she swallowed roughly, "it is, Little Moon. But as we have spoken and I have looked at you with eyes unclouded by fear...," She reached up and stroked Luna's hair behind her ear gently, making the Slayer freeze at the unexpected touch. "You - you are not much older then my dear sister, Gabrielle. And it is tragic - a devastating zing to me to imagine one as young as her to live such a life. How old - how old when were you were Called, Luna?" Fleur asked, seeming to brace herself for the answer, as her hand dropped back down.
"Eleven," she whispered, knowing the other girl would not take it well. And watched almost pained as the part-Veela flinched, letting out a hissing sound. Luna was almost glad when she heard some other students approaching their hallway (it was a bit surprising that it had been left to them this long, but then again, it was Sunday) and she pointed in the direction they were approaching.
It only took Fleur a moment to understand and she grabbed her hand and declared, "You must come to zee Carriage! Zee Headmistress was worried when I wanted to approach you alone. She will be very glad you are one so open to our continued presence."
Luna bemusedly let herself be led and asked, "Do you think she'd let me meet the Flying Horses? The Thestrals have been terribly curious about them you know."