A/N- Happy Valentines! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

x

~HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY~

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Yours sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

When Tony first finds out witches are real, it honestly doesn't appear to be that surprising. What he expects is a small community (at most) of like-powered, like-minded individuals calling themselves witches and wizards. Not, "FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK" witches; or cauldron brewing, wand waving, dragon(Dragons. Seriously, how did they slip past that one!) breeding witches. It's almost comical were it not real. 100% real. Because what he has is the traditional children's fairy tale witches; complete with dark arts, a bloody standard book of spells, magical theory, transfiguration (whatever that is), robes and dragons.

So yeah. For someone who has always put their faith in science, someone who can only trust science… it's a blow. And quite frankly he isn't sure how to accept it.

Sure he could always try and apply physics to the spells( like ahc-kee-oh was it?) and try dissecting Luna (although quite frankly he knows the others and certainly himself wouldn't stand for it.) and those dragons that were mentioned- again fucking dragons. But for some reason he has a feeling it wouldn't work. Like the professor said; it is magic. But he can't quite believe it.

Not yet.

The Professor, Minerva McGonagall, should be coming in, Tony glances at the clock, around half an hour which gives him time to prepare. Both mentally and physically of course. And by physically he means, to set up a basic diagnostics check, the same one used for Thor, Loki, Wanda etcetera -all very discreet of course.

What?

Because even if he doesn't think he'll find anything doesn't mean he won't try. He is a scientist after all.

Part of him. A small part of him, wonders if this will be enough. If this a small but temporary solution to their problems as to whether or not Luna will stay. He knows it isn't really, because even though she'll be an adult by the time she graduates, the others will want to keep her close. It would be wise after all, since she was practically raised into this chaotic lifestyle... And he doesn't want to think about how someone like Luna could thrive in society. Perhaps she could, but Tony doesn't think do.

Somewhere along the line, she might have grown on him a little.

He laughs to himself. And what a joke! Who is he to be wary of a child! Where is the line he can draw between world class assassin and child?! And... Who is he, the man (God, "man" are such a disease!) who created Ultron, who almost destroyed the world, the man with an infamous ego and penchant for lies... Who is he to doubt, mistrust an indoctrinated little girl?

"JARV- uh FRIDAY, could I have a glass of iced whiskey please? The Scottish know how to do alcohol." He says, rubbing his temple. Ahh, here he is again trying to distract from the endless, destructive circle of self-loathing and pity.

"Sir, may I remind you that you asked me to reminds you, no alcohol before three pm?"

Did he? Frowning, Tony sighs. "Nevermind. I'll get it myself." He continues resting for another five seconds before standing up and making the sluggish walk to the fridge.

It opens with little resistance but Tony glares silently at the post-it note stuck on the beverage with innocent cursive:

"Why are you staring at this. This isn't yours until 15:00!
~Bruce"

"Shut up Bruce. " Ah screw it. It's three pm somewhere and he can always replace the bottle and stick the note on. With a nod of self-affirmation, Tony claims his prize.

...

Luna glances at the clock again, rocking back and forth on her chair, swinging her legs in anticipation. Only twenty minutes to go. She's read through the whole book of wizarding history in America, knows all about the MACUSA and about Ilvermorny and wizarding laws, inhaling the knowledge desperately as though it were air. And who knows, it's magic it might as well be. Briefly she wonders why she isn't going to Ilvermorny, but Professor McGonagall has assured her Hogwarts is much better, Luna giggles.

Another look. Twelve more minutes.

There's a few Nargles hovering around the wall clock, Luna tries to guess if they're a family or not.

Humming, Luna wonders if the Professor sees her creatures too... Maybe its a magical thing. She didn't mention them in the, "have you ever done anything you can't explain? Done things that seem impossible until they aren't to you anymore" talk, but perhaps they are such a norm in the wizarding world that the professor simply forgot or found it irrelevant. She smiles happily because perhaps she's not alone!

"Miss Luna, please pay attention to what I'm teaching you." Calls Friday with just that right flavour in her tone that makes her sound slightly indignant.

"Oh sorry! I was just thinking."

"Yes, I know. However, Miss Romanoff expressed her wishes for you to continue with your daily schedule until you leave."

Somehow, the way she says it makes Luna feel a little sad. She's only away for the afternoon but somehow it seems like it will be forever. But, she shakes her head. That's silly.

There's only ten minutes left of Math anyways, so Luna might as well finish the lesson.

"Sorry, carry on."

And just like that, as soon as the lesson finishes, a sound rings clearly through the compound that reminds Luna just like a traditional doorbell. Which is funny because Luna didn't think there was any here... But then again she's never been outside and she's only explored half of the site. Nevertheless, Luna walks out the "classroom" (really the 5th floor common room) and makes her way to the meeting room of the Avengers' private floor, hearing the apparent bell ring again. From inside of the room. She sees the Avengers make their way too, with an amusing variety of expressions of confusion. Luna lets out a small private laugh to herself.

When she opens the door, she sees the Professor, dressed in emerald robes and that funny pointed hat. Professor McGonagall waves her wand again and the "doorbells" ring again. She laughs delightedly.

" Sorry," chuckles the old woman, " I thought that would be a little more appropriate, given my surprise visit yesterday. And I couldn't help myself."

"She'll be back no later than nine pm, yes?" Natasha's frowns, stance all defensive.

It isn't as though the Black Widow isn't curious about magic, or that she doesn't like any of this- Luna knows- its more to do with the fact that this is unknown, and it's better to be safe than sorry.

Natasha isn't usually an expressive person, but she can when she wants to be, and Luna can hardly blame her for making this known.

Luckily, the professor doesn't seem offended by this. "Of course." She smiles. "Now, come along. We have lots to do if we want to be back for your curfew."

Nodding, Luna takes Professor McGonagall's outstretched hand and waves goodbye to her Avengers. She'll see them soon.

The room becomes a swirly kaleidoscope of colours and Luna can feel today's breakfast of green smoothies and pancake knotting in her stomach.

It stops and she feels the warm breeze on her skin for the first time in ages and the smell of pastries are wafting through the air. She's never been outside like this before... Every time it's been life or death and now...

There are creatures everywhere, crowds in a billowy rainbow of cloaks and displays of the impossible in shop windows. Everything she thought it would be and more. The magical people are the same though as the "muggles" though. Luna can tell because the familiar buzz her creatures are the same, and all creatures in a habitat have an effect on one another. It isn't ik she was expecting anything different.

"Now, since it's about lunchtime, I say we get something to eat. Don't you?"

"Yes, of course." Luna smiles, excited. (she's outside!) She follows her guide to a clean looking cafe: Goldstien-Kowalski int. which seems to be what that amazing smell was.

"You are about to enter the establishment of Goldstien-Kowalski. Please respect our staff and the other customers, all of whom are different members of the magical communities. This business was founded by a no-maj and a witch, thus we support love of/between anyone. Take a stand with us this Friday to support love! All are welcome :)"

Well that's nice, Luna smiles as she walks in. The place is clearly very popular, tons of people, young and old are sitting eating pies, sandwiches, strudel, high tea; and there is an overall buzz of warmth emitting from the place. Bunches of small framed moving pictures are dotted about the walls, adding some effortless charm to the place.

The queue, Luna notes, is very long.

"It's a very popular tourist destination." Explains the professor. "I thought it would be nice to bring you to somewhere iconic. The sign outside is because there are still magical people, particularly those from old, pure bloodlines, that believe that only purebloods should exist in this society."

Luna nods, she already knows all this but she likes to listen.

Taking the lunch menu from the wooden paper stand on the table, Luna begins to scan the options. Eventually, she asks Professor McGonagall to recommend one- two "Toad-in-the-holes" for each of them and one "The Original Angel Delight with The Worlds Lightest Meringue" which all sounds very intriguing. As they wait for their food to come, they talk. Luna, in her short time of seeing her, has come to know her Professor as probably very loyal, honest but also perhaps a little cunning. None of this is proven of course, but Luna's never been wrong about people before. There was a class at the academy.

"So Luna, " it is obvious that she's approaching whatever this subject is carefully, "would you like to know a little more about your family, the Lovegoods?"

She almost reacts, but years of ingrained training has taught her not to. This is the one thing Mr Loki hasn't touched upon yet, and she dare not ask him. It still hurts when she thinks about them for her too, and besides she was taken so little. "Oh... Um yes please? They sound fascinating."

But she'd rather know than not, she isn't one to shelter herself from information.

Smiling fondly, she continues. " Well I knew them. Xenophilius was always a strange one. Never cared about what others thought, always obsessed with discovering new things. And your mother, was a bright witch. Loved experimentation and a fierce potion master." Luna notes the "was" implied.

It isn't as though she didn't expect her parents to be dead, she accepted that long before she knew the truth... It's just talking about it seems more final. But, she must be frank with herself.

Luna hums, nodding, processing the information. "So they're dead. Of course... How?"

Predictably, the Professor splutters a little, taken aback. After a moment she replies. "Well, they didn't go peacefully... And, you're sure you want to know?"

Luna nods. Adamantly.

"Your mother was found dead after you had been," she coughs, because there is no way to do this except bluntly "taken. The place was found ransacked by what is believed to be muggle weapons. And Xenophilius... Bloodily murdered in his house a few months later.. Nobody knows how or who."

It's a good thing, Luna thinks, that she uses the names instead if titles like "your mum" or "dad" to describe everything. It helps Luna separate herself from it. Hearing people be "bloodily murdered" used to be part of her job after all. Except, most of the time she was been the one executing it, although it was usually less messy than what the professor is describing.

"Oh... They said they left me. Of course I know it wasn't true but..."

The professor furrows her brows but she doesn't ask who "they" are.

Their food arrives before anyone can say anything else. Luna hears Professor McGonagall sigh a little in relief, and stares at her food, pretending to be oblivious to the woman's silent glances.

Once they're finished, World's Lightest Meringue (which is so light it floats) and all, they step out into the busy streets.

Personally, Luna's never seen a real, old-fashioned cobbled road before. It makes the street look like something out of the fairy tale pictures the academy used to show them. Luna shivers. There's a variety of buildings, some modern ones made entirely put of glass, some that look so old yet grand and some that are made of mud and rocks and leaves. Heliopaths whizz around unlit lamp-posts and Luna almost laughs at their befuddled behaviour.

Professor McGonagall leads them to a grand looking building which seems to be made of marble and gold, with tall pillars and a flux of people. Luna follows her up the stairs of "Gringott's International Bank". She doesn't question the strange appearance of the workers, she seen enough not to. After all, she already knows.

Which seems to be a common theme. And one could say that this might have been more of an adventure if she didn't know so much.

Luna would disagree. If anything it's better because she can enjoy it more than having to be on guard or vigilant. Which she is anyways, but more on her normal scale than what would be if this was new information.

"These are goblins," Professor McGonagall explains anyways. Luna supposes most of the students she's taken here wonder. "They run the bank... Very careful creatures, they are."

Luna hums.

"I was once told," the Professor says thoughtfully, "that you could insult a goblin all day and they'd only watch you, but if you stole from one... Well," they're just approaching the main desk now, "well, you'd better watch them."

They stop just before they reach the marble desk, behind a young couples and wait in line for their turn. A fancy chandelier dangles precariously from the ceiling supported by what must be magic, delicately carved columns seem to further elongate the height of the room and silvery platinum ornaments are placed strategically around. There seems to be some sort of strange, non-existent hum which means that she can hear everyone but not what they are saying.

"Next please."

Luna lets herself be led forward, slowly trailing behind her companion. She let's Professor McGonagall speak but pays close attention, which is good because her attention is usually very flighty.

"I would like to take out some money from a British account, please."

The goblin doesn't say anything but motions to another goblin a couple paces away and whispers in his ear.

"Follow me." Says the other goblin shortly and warily, like all the others.

He leads them to an office like area, smart, clean and tidy with tufted, green, leather couches, a mahogany desk and refined jewels of what Luna assumes to be of exquisite price in glass cabinets. They sit themselves carefully on the couches and Luna sees the goblin eyeing them as he makes his way behind the desk.

"Britain?" He doesn't wait for a reply before scrawling on the thick parchment before him. "Vault holder, please?"

"Lovegood. That's vault 263."

He stills. But his composure is quickly regained and he looks Professor McGonagall dead in the eye and then herself. Whilst Luna could respond back with the same and then some, she figures it might be best not and shrinks back deliberately. "Key? And I'll need some blood identification."

"I have it here, and of course." Her professor doesn't skip a beat. A colourful key is produced, all rainbow-like in appearance as though it's been dipped in oil and then magic. Perhaps it has. An opal carved unicorn sits on top of the key, softly grooming itself. Luna watches fascinated as a shower of white sparkles sprinkle from the goblin's wand and mist around the key. After a few moments, the sparkles turn gold and dissipate.

"Hmm, well it seems the key is legitimate and I assume the Lovegood is this one yes? He says peering down at Luna.

She smiles back pleasantly, "Yes, apparently."

"Finger please."

Luna decides on her right pinkie since she uses it the least, allowing the goblin's wand tip, now a silver needle, to prick the end of her finger. He mutters something like an incantation and the blood flashes very briefly gold before returning back to its dark red colour. The goblin very promptly wipes it.

He sighs, visibly disappointed. "What amount would you like to withdraw Miss Lovegood?"

"We'll take 70 Galleons." Interrupts Professor McGonagall, "and we would like to make it a duel-national account, temporarily, seven years." At this the goblin perks himself up a bit. A feral but contained grin slips its way onto his face.

"Sounds like business. I'll write a letter to the UK Gringotts right now. And you can be on your way." He takes a minute to pen his letter on paper before sealing it with bright white wax, grabbing a smaller, red piece of parchment and handing it to them. "Your cheque for 70 galleons."

They stand. There is a brief shaking of hands before, "Pleasure doing business with you."

The cheque is quickly exchanged for a velvety pouch of thick golden coins that have been counted aloud in front of them. Professor McGonagall clutches her hand as she leads them outside onto the even busier streets and sidewalks. First things first, although really this is the third thing, is a wand. After all, the earlier the better and you never know if someone's taken the wand that would have picked you. Somehow Luna feels this logic may be a little flawed but she doesn't question it too much.

At first, it's a little bit like a game. That is, the ridiculous amount of time it takes to pick a wand. In total, there are four wand shops they visit, each time the wand doesn't pick her which doesn't surprise Luna, if she's honest. (and she isn't honest often. Only in the worst of times)

The first shop they go to is called Johanne Jonker Wands. There's a young man in the shop who looks like he should fit in with the muted matte greys and the sleek red linings of the store, but it really looks like he's trying too hard. It's easy to tell he doesn't like his job, but he greets them with a smile nonetheless and presents them with the first wand, sleek dark brown with a tiny shining pearl inlaid into the handle, wampus core, as they all are here apparently. Somethings seems a little off about this one but it's the first time she's ever touched a wand so she shrugs and grasps it as firmly as she can, she only flicks her wrist an inch before the wand turns to burning cold and she almost drops it. Hastily the man puts it back.

Five more wands are tried, each with the same but different results, before the man returns with an old woman, Aiyanna Jonker is who she introduces herself as. Aiyanna Jonker takes one look and Luna and says, "You might be better off at Beauvais." Not rudely, just as though it's a fact. She sees Professor McGonagall's mouth set into a hard line, but they nod and thank them, making their way actually just across the street.

The wandmaker in Beauvais reminds her a little of Madame Yelena, not in physique or appearance but in stature and her grace. She looks to be about mid-forties but she's aging gracefully, a dark red stain dusts her lips. The store itself is cold but sunny, a mixture of blue and brown hues with large open windows, wands piled high in locked glass cabinets. The woman and her store seem to clash yet oddly match. Luna waits for the process to begin.

The first white and rough, too long. The second isn't flexible enough. By the third they realise it might be the cores, and her teacher mutters something under her breath akin to, "Why can't they be like Ollivander's. One core per store, for goodness sake!" and Luna smiles and takes her out the store by the hand.

The next closest store is two streets away and because there isn't much time, Professor McGonagall apparates them. Unsurprisingly Quintana's is no luck either and they both cross their fingers and toes for the next one.

It's an odd mismatched looking store with the words "Pexol Stationary and Gift shop- WOLFE WANDS INSIDE!" in bold mismatching letters and some colourful notebooks and children's stories on display, cheap window stickers of quills and animals and origami stuck on the storefront window. Inside clusters of people work their way through, a warm, busy but light-hearted atmosphere sifting throughout.

Luna has a good feeling about this.

They wade their way through the throngs and the cluttered shelves reaching the back of the store. There's a small passageway that leads from the main store to a small dimly lit room with a wooden placard that says, in gold embellished lettering, "Wolfe Wands." in contrast to the stationary gift shop, Wolfe Wands is definitely, well, magical. The ceiling is enchanted to look like open skies and a painting of a majestic looking bird, wild with glittering wings, ever-changing eyes and as big as two doorways, soars across walls and the ceiling. The walls show an open savannah and on the floor has a running river that cuts across and trails into the horizon. She's in awe.

The illusion is ruined by an old mahogany counter and a few tall bookshelves where a lone nargle rests drowsily. And a man.

"Hello there!" says a man cheerily, Luna feels her posture stiffen, "I'm Able Piccerlain. We don't get too many visitors anymore. Most people go to Jonker's or Beauvais or the newly revamped Quintana's and I've only just convinced the old Mr Wolfe to dabble with other cores instead of the family traditional. Thunderbirds are going extinct, you see." Luna nods carefully. She knows he doesn't mean any real harm, but she knows this type and she knows to be careful. They're stereotypical businessmen and politicians in every sense of the word. Greedy and smart and coy. Either way she knows to watch him. He smiles widely, "Of course I'm not the wandmaker or wand expert here but if you have anything specific you're looking for, I've got it covered."

It's easy to imagine him on television for some sort of insurance company. "No… I'm looking to choose a wand."

He grins again, wider if possible, and whistles lowly, "And a wand still hasn't picked you yet? You must have gone to the other stores by now, right? Y'sure you ain't a No-maj?" he jokes.

At this Professor McGonagall, looking quite sour, decides to interrupt. "We'd like to see Mr Wolfe if he's available?" she says, looking him straight in the eye.

Defeated yet still amused, he leads a frail looking man, with dark skin thin white hair and kaleidoscope eyes, from the back office by the hand and sits him down on an office chair. "Shikoba? We've got a customer. Be nice."

Shikoba Wolfe the Third's smile seems to light up the whole room. In fact, it does. The thunderbird, which is now perching on the wall next to the desk, ruffles his feathers and the sun's rays bounce brighter off his feathers. Luna can't help but feel giddy. "A customer! That's amazing! Amazing, Able!" his mixed accent of American and something else bends his speech into a lullaby.

"Yes it is. Now she'd like to be picked by a wand. Can you help?"

Shikoba laughs heartily "Of course!" He beckons her forward and she follows. "Now…" he inspects he lightly, eyes lighting up in fascination. "What's your favourite colour?"

Luna frowns in thought, "I haven't got one I think." He nods understandingly.

"Number?"

"Um…" Luna tilts her head, "Two."

"Are you right or left handed?"

"Oh, I'm ambidextrous." Because all the girls had to be, "But naturally I was left handed."

He frowns before telling her to show him her hands, he doesn't actually touch them, he just studies the lines and the scratches and the veins and the scar she got sparring with Natasha yesterday, on her thumb. Luna holds her breath.

"Hmm I see." His eyes, Luna notes, crinkle prettily when he smiles and she feels lifted yet again. "Able? Please can you get me box number 4 please."

It doesn't take long for able to find what he's looking for, there's only around five hundred boxes in the store, compared to the thousands in the others. A slim, raw wooden box is taken out at the very furthest end of the room. Long and slightly extravagant, a wand sits in the centre of the plush velvet interior of the box.

It's very painfully and utterly her, and Luna loves it.

"Pine, Thunderbird feather, 13 inches, very flexible."

As soon as Luna touches it, a blanket of warmth settles over her head and she sighs deeply before swishing it. A galaxy of stars projects itself from the tip of her wand and for a moment the ceiling has become an inky jet of nebulas and colour. The thunderbird squawks in confusion.

The wand itself is a faded grey colour, no doubt from age, with delicately painted gold details that twist up the wand.

"A miracle!" laughs Shikoba clasping his hands excitedly. "One of my grandfather's very first wands, that is. We only have around fifty thunderbird wands left too! Extraordinary!"

….

When they exit Wolfe Wands(Professor McGonagall has her wand, since there's some sort of law about wands), it's almost four o clock and they're about to head off the get Luna her robes. Dakota's is a robe store, a pretty famous one apparently. And according to Professor McGonagall, it only takes half the time her than at some place called Madame Malkin's. Luna purchases her three black robes, the black plain pointed hat, gloves, winter cloak and just because she likes them, a rainbow coloured cloak and a nice lemon yellow one. Which is good since bright colours confuse Nargles.

Professor McGonagall suggests that they go shopping at some more distinguished shops since she can order her other things via owl. Gratefully, Luna accepts.

Zonko's is a massive store with three more levels and magical toys galore, all bright lights and screaming children and impossible things. Luna doesn't buy anything there but fascinating all the same. (Luna isn't sure if she still knows how to play with toys, but she'd much rather amuse herself with her mind.)

But she does buy from Honeydukes. She knows the others, especially Wanda, will appreciate it. It's only a small store, and there are a lot less people but somehow it makes Luna feel more comfortable, more in control. As she's browsing she stops.

"Professor?" Luna tugs on her sleeve and Professor McGonagall smiles.

"Yes?"

"Are some of these muggle sweets?"

The Professor shakes her head smiling. According to her, the confectionary are exclusive to the wizarding community (even covens of vampires and troll communities need to venture to a wizarding shop for some of it), some only available in Honeydukes. The information makes Luna frown and she thinks back to the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans that's left uneaten under her bed. And the Honeydukes Chocolate bar. And the Pumpkin Pasties. And suddenly that drawing of the Hungarian Dragon and the interest of Aquivarious Maggots make sense. She smiles, the Scamanders must have been a wizarding family. She doesn't say anything as she browses the wares and is intently aware of Professor McGonagall's eyes on her with a tiny smile playing on her face.

So she purchases her Chocolate Frogs, Sugar Quills and Fizzing Whizzbees and they leave.

At around six-thirty, they go to dinner. It's a small, local pub/diner with little variety but Professor McGonagall assures her that it's really very good and offers some "actually decent British food". The interior is something she's used to (kinda), it isn't magical at all. Strings of fairy lights web their way across the ceiling, non-moving pictures of modern art, black and white photos of probably the founders, sounds of hot oil coming from the kitchen that aren't muffled or silenced at all tell her this. There are a few people eating already- a small family of four, a group of teenage friends and two girls looking about twenty that are perhaps a couple- giving the place a friendly, relaxed atmosphere. A few blibbering humdingers are squabbling by the window, and Luna holds in a giggle.

"I always thought I was the only one that could see them, Professor." She says lightly, because she's relieved. It's nice to know you aren't alone in something.

She receives a look of question back. "See what, dear?"

"Oh, silly me! The Nargles and the Wrackspurts and the Dabberblimps, of course!" This time, Luna allows a brief chuckle.

It's met with confusion. "Pardon?"

"Well," oh no. Luna can feel the dread creep up her stomach, she isn't sure why… because even if she is 'alone', she's always been. Why is now different? Besides, she has Mr Loki. "there are some blibbering humdingers over there, can't you see?" a nervous laugh. "

There's a pause in the conversation, Luna can see Professor McGonagall's back is stiff as a sword, and the food comes. A 'Classic British Fry-Up'. Battered sausages, cod, chunky chips and peas and a slice of lemon. Surprisingly it is nice but Luna knows that Natasha and certainly not Madame Yelena would be caught dead eating it.

"Luna, what are you talking about? I know I've been very casual with you today because I want you to feel comfortable in this new environment, but I'm still your teacher and you really are too old to be playing games now." This isn't said angrily or anything, just a little exasperated. Luna feels her heart break a little (more). She smiles nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, that was a little silly."

Her Professor sighs, "Don't worry about it, Luna. I know this is tough on you. Now, eat up. I want to get you back early since I do think it would be good to stay on the good side of these Avengers of yours."

"Of course."

Luna leaves a few peas out for the blibbering humdingers anyways.

….

Natasha is just finishing dinner when the not-a-doorbell rings again. Hmm. It's only half-seven. Not that she minds. She's quite glad for that to be honest. It's been… anxious… tense, waiting back here for Luna to come back to a place where not even the laws of nature apply.

Judging by the size of Luna's bag (small), they haven't got much done. Or maybe she's wrong, it could be magic.

(she is wrong. It is magic.)

Whatever, she's just glad Luna's home safely.

"Luna, due to the American wand laws, I'll hold onto your wand until you get to Hogwarts." says the witch. Good, good.

It isn't as though Natasha dislikes magic, in fact, she finds it fascinating. It's just that she'd like to keep some control, for a little while longer at least.

This won't last.

So Natasha smiles at all the right moments and laughs too, when Luna shows them her haul of candy and cloaks and the professor shows her Luna's wand. She expresses her shock at the many products at Zonko's and the floating meringue and the goblins. (although it isn't hard to find them shocking!)

Anything she can do to make Luna happy. She can tell that Luna knows this too and is quite happy to play along. It's like a different sort of dance from their usual sparring.

Because Luna will be gone in a few months. And she's only been here for three but to Natasha, Luna is already part of her family.

God, when did she get so compromised?

Natasha waits till Luna is actually asleep soundly before sleeping herself this night. And Luna lets her.

A/N- Hey if you enjoyed this please leave a review! thanks so so much for reading :D

-Mercia