The classroom was wet. Hundreds upon hundreds of raindrop trails winked in and out on the walls, the supply cabinet, the coat rack. Water ran in rivulets down the windows and dripped along the frame of the blackboard. It was waist-deep, wall to wall. Tables and chairs distorted oddly under the surface, sometimes close, sometimes far away and on occasion, there was the merest hint of swirling hair.

Above the improbable pond, just below the ceiling, clouds gently but persistently poured luminescent blue rain.

Hermione was crying, bobbing unsteadily on a raft facing the window. Somehow she kept her balance despite the water lapping over her thighs, her legs limply hanging over the side, and her hands too busy rubbing at her face to brace her.

The rain beaded in her hair and on her hunched shoulders; it pooled on the raft, ran down the side and pooled again with each agitated breath.

"The room is full of faerie rain," a distant, pensive voice said. Hermione looked up to see a girl with long, unkempt hair, swaying slightly and staring up at the ceiling.

"What are you doing here, Luna? Why aren't you at the party?"

There was something truly unsettling about the smile on the girl's face. It was easy to imagine that she really could see hidden things, that maybe she wasn't entirely here and that that other place was just waiting to lay claim on her. The resplendent, soggy - if that was within your ability to perceive - otherworldly creature continued to stare at the ceiling and make little admiring noises.

Hermione wiped her nose on her sleeve irritably.

"I followed the faerie rain. All the carpets are sopping wet. They built a dam," Luna waved vaguely in the direction of the doorway, "but it's sloshing over the edge when you move."

"I don't know what you mean!"

Dreamily, "I didn't know it would be you this time. Of course, of late it has been, hasn't it."

Luna started to twirl slowly, "It's usually the pretty girl or the girl in the bathroom."

"She is dead, did you know?"

"Once it was Draco Malfoy," her voice was fading.

She turned round and round.

Eyes red-rimmed but finally collected, Hermione scoffed, sighed and said, "there's no faerie rain, Luna. With all the sniffling going on in every corner, Hogwarts would be washed away by now."

"Oh no," Luna smiled at her, "it's not crying that brings the faerie rain."

"Unrequited affections, then. Fantastic."

"Oh, no!" Lune smirked, "The faeries have had to dig new storm drains in the dungeons every year since Harry Potter's mother died. If rejection was all it took, they would have murdered the lot of us." Luna was floating now.

"Could you please use the floor, Luna? You know everyone hates when you do that." Hermione had discovered a betting pool the week before with a not insubstantial amount of galleons, the better odds on Luna floating off a balcony and the best payout if you got the date right. She'd considered placing a bet, but the prefect in her had shut it down.

"Ah, you must be jilted by The One." Hermione rolled her eyes, but Luna was oblivious, "the faeries created a charm to comfort a grieving heart, find someone to, if not heal, then soothe the ragged wounds -"

"And no doubt to prevent the dams from bursting."

"They carved a rune on among the confessions on the oak by the lake -"

"The revenge shag enchantment?"

Luna's eyes snapped to hers, suddenly the picture of sanity, she said, "yes," and walked out the room.

He'd been wrong; there hadn't been a happy threesome driving everyone mad with their wholesomeness by the end of that afternoon. The Weasel had grown a whole new set of hands instead. Draco kept cornering her after classes to keep her anger stoked; he wanted to do his part to keep the school sane. He'd been looking for her, for someone to take the edge off of his humiliation at the party when he'd found her crying in a blue pool with tiny, winged creatures expertly placing luminescent bags of sand in the hallway to control the flood.

Hermione walked across the grounds; the moon was waning, but it was still light enough to see. The oak stood tall and wide, looking out over the lake. It was solid and heavy and true like time itself. Soft waves lapped the tall grasses at the edge of the lake. It was frigid; there had been an unexpected thaw, just long enough to mislead some naive shoots, but come night, the lake and grounds would freeze over again. It was quiet. She stood there for some time before turning to the tree. She had seen the rune before; still, she had to search through many cupids, initials and scratched out hearts before she finally located the lurid little carving.

"Rune, my ass."

She pressed her lips against her fingers, blew the lake a kiss and then pressed her fingers against the entwined couple. She jumped, yelped and pulled her hand away from the bark. She watched, sucking on her hand, as the couple unfurled into a large drawing. "Lumos," revealed a map with a path to a pavilion on the far end of the castle grounds she knew for certain didn't exist. The map rearranged itself into "Tuesdays after supper."

"The fairies even sorted out the logistics." She stood there quietly for a while."It's for comfort, not revenge." She started to turn toward the castle, "I swear," and then she walked off.

Draco let the disillusionment charm drop and kissed his fingers, and pressed them against the pictograph. He was prepared for the sting but yelped as something soft like a caterpillar moved under his fingers.

Breathless with anticipation, he watched the couple slowly unravel and reform into, "You know where to go." He snorted.

"Willing and able," he drawled and saluted the tree, "on my honour."

The following day at breakfast, Luna looked at him speculatively, then pointedly at the thin, blue thread running from his chest to Hermione's. "You can see the fairies too."

"Loonie -" someone started, and Draco sneered, ready to strike, but Luna had already left.