When Luna snuck out to visit the unicorn foal, he was sleeping soundly. Luna wore her Spectrespecs upside-down and was barefoot. Someone had borrowed her shoes without asking…which was a bit peculiar since her shoes were neon green and electric pink. Most Hogwarts students wore bland shoes.
She liked to believe her personal thief was a house-elf who needed the shoes. She strongly did not want to consider any alternative.
Around her neck was a telescope. This time, instead of her rucksack, she had deigned to bring a bright blue bag with violet lanterns embedded into the fabric of the bag. Not embroidery but actual lanterns. Each was roughly the size of an adult's thumbnail.
She dropped to the ground beside her deeply sleeping friend. As she stroked him behind the ear, she felt her own eyelids grow heavy.
Envisioning McGonagall catching her sleeping, Luna lifted her eyebrows. But her eyelids were shut tight. She slithered off to dreamland.
It was Professor Flitwick, not Professor McGonagall, who shook her awake. The unicorn foal had his muzzle pressed against her hair and was getting a good whiff. She peeled her eyelids apart and asked Professor Flitwick "Where's the moon?"
He shook his head slowly. "Don't you realize how worried Professor Sprout was when you didn't show up for Herbology?"
The fourteen-year-old witch asked with surprise, "Professor Sprout was worried about me? But I set fire to her garden of Mandrakes last year. She vowed she'd never forgive me."
Wringing his hands, Professor Flitwick replied, "Let's not dwell on…her actual feelings. Dumbledore made an announcement about the Triwizard Tornament you missed."
"What announcement?"
"Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be here in a week. Next Triwizard Tournament, we're scheduled to go to Beauxbatons…well, not 'we'," he reflected, slightly less whimsical. "Dumbledore and some selective students. You'll be in your NEWT year and might be chosen. In any case, we are to make them feel welcome here."
"I don't," Luna interrupted unconsciously.
Professor Flitwick waited for Luna to finish, presuming she would follow "don't" with "understand" and explain what she didn't understand. When she didn't continue, he floundered in confusion. "Don't what, my dear?"
In a calm, emotionally detached tone, Lune answered, "Feel welcome at Hogwarts."
Professor Flitwick's ears turned bright red. Clearing his throat, he said, "Dumbledore wants them to feel at home…"
Luna's eyes brightened and widened out of slumber mode from behind her upside-down Spectrespecs. "I do feel that!" she gushed as she lifted her bedridden blonde hair from the unicorn's fur. Half of her hair was sliding to the side (the one that had been nestled into the foal's fur) and like a blackbird arranged the hair on the other side so it could pick and tear out the hairs it wanted for a nest. Then a robin came and laid eggs in her hair and they hatched.
At least, that was how Professor Flitwick explained the bits of broken robin eggshell in the exploded side.
"What's that?" he pointed a finger at the foal then touched his ear with the same trembling finger.
Luna flinched. Airily, she assured the older wizard, "He's my friend."
"I didn't know you had a friend unicorn. Unicorn hair is extremely valuable, did you know? A hundred Galleons a strand."
Petting the sleek neck, he murmured, "They are full of valuables, unicorns are. Especially the foals. If people knew of this…well, they know there are all types of exotic animals in this forest. Unicorn blood," he uttered solemnly, "is the rarest of all elements. My, what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would do to get his hands on some.
"Only someone purely evil would bring unicorn blood to their lips, especially a foal's," he tried to assure Luna, because he could see how distraught his words were making her. "If someone with their soul intact took a dip of unicorn blood, they'd live a cursed life."
"What if they already lived a cursed life? Why would they care?"
Lowering his neck nervously, Professor Flitwick muttered, "Well, all unicorn blood does is keep a dying man from dying. It's not like it'd be any use to, say, George Weasley, unless he wanted to ruin his future."
It wasn't that Luna didn't trust Professor Flitwick not to steal bits of her unicorn. It was that she didn't trust him not to go chuckling and gossiping to the other professors.
She had a funny feeling Professor Quirrel, who was frightened of dangerous animals, might like a go at a defenseless one.
On the way out of the Forbidden Forest, she used a memory charm to make Professor Flitwick think it was a Crumple-Horned Snorkack her head had been lying atop of.
Professor Flitwick hummed a jolly old tune after his memory had been updated. He skipped and fussed with his bright orange robes.
"You're friends with a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, Miss Lovegood? Why, I thought they were all in Sweden, and here we have a nest of them in our Forbidden Forest. What a swell thing indeed…wouldn't surprise me if they migrated here centuries ago…"
"How did you find me?"
"Mandy Brocklehurst offered your Quibbler magazine. She said you were reading it on the train."
Luna didn't answer him. Though she had been reading it on the train, she'd left her compartment for some iced pumpkin juice and returned to discover her Quibbler had disappeared. She'd blamed nargles.
"I enchanted the object so it would lead me to you. I'm sorry," he bowed solemnly in mid-step. "When I noticed you weren't at the breakfast table…I assumed you were in your dormitory, searching for your belongings. I see you've lost your shoes, dear."
"I didn't lose them," Luna corrected. "A house-elf needed them. Her feet must be cold."
Professor Flitwick didn't have time to think up a response because they had reached the castle. Professor McGonagall was waiting for them, locked down under a stern frown. Her lips were so small Luna didn't think a spoon full of porridge would fit between them.
"I hope you punished her properly," Professor McGonagall spat.
Professor Flitwick scratched the top of his head. "For what?"
"Disrupting the forest. She is your responsibility, Filius, and I hope you won't allow your soft heart to misguide you."
Frowning gruffly, Professor Flitwick inquired, "What are you talking about, Minerva? I'm part goblin. I can be just as stern as you, if not sterner." Briefly, he adopted a menacing stone face. In his normal, gentle tone of voice, he asserted, "Miss Lovegood has special permissions to enter the forest alone."
As if Professor McGonagall was a Howler, her "What?!" made this side of the castle tremble and throttle the nearby shrubs. Everyone in the vicinity who wasn't part of the little party thought a clamorous earthquake had done the temporary damage to their ears.
Professor Sprout came strolling by, carrying a watering can. Her green robes were, as usual for her, stained by the earth. She'd been doctoring the Whomping Willow after it'd gotten into a nasty fight with a teething Venomous Tentacula. Now, she was on her way to water some thirsty plants.
"Missed you in class today, Miss Lovegood," she uttered cheerfully. "Terribly sorry you couldn't make it. I know I was…rather tense over the Mandrake garden you destroyed last year, but I'm over it now." She played with Luna's messy hair. "I do hope you won't miss our next lesson."
Professor McGonagall asked Professor Flitwick, "Why does Miss Lovegood have special permission to enter the Forbidden Forest, Filius?"
Professor Flitwick answered unbalefully, "It's my judgment call. You handle Harry and those Weasley twins."
"I was curious, not meaning to override you, but you're right. Indeed, it isn't my business."
A frisbee whizzed by Professor Flitwick's head. Fluffy came bounding after it, salivating and snarling. Hagrid was standing several yards away, grinning broadly at his three-headed dog. Fang, lying by Hagrid's side, was plainly jealous.
Professor McGonagall's gaze slid to Hagrid. A faint smile touched her lips. She marched off after patting Fluffy's wither.
Hagrid took a flask from his hip, drank, and offered some Ogden's Old Firewhisky to Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout. Both teachers declined.
"Last time I drank that stuff," reminisced Professor Flitwick, "I awoke at the top of the tallest astronomy tower. Dancing. Naked. It was 3 a.m., so I can't imagine too many students saw me, if any." He cast his gaze about wildly and worriedly for Dumbledore. He was nowhere nearby. Professor Flitwick breathed a sigh of relief.
Professor Sprout snickered while removing bits of robin's eggshell from Luna's hair. "Fred and George showed me pictures. You were riding a fake bull they Transfigured from a stool. And when you stood on its back and leapt off, you leapt off. Landing about five feet higher, upside-down, and on a broomstick. Hanging on by a finger." Adjusting her dirty robes, she mused cheerily, "It was quite a sight! The fireworks were…not a shabby touch."
Professor Flitwick's cheeks reddened briefly. Then he scratched the back of his neck and sighed. "I'd try to get them expelled, but they did teach me how to laugh at myself."
"Not well enough," opined Professor Sprout, studying Professor Flitwick's unsmiling, twitchy face.