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Into Your Gravity
Chapter Three: Introductions

I met someone, I'll call him the breeze,
he sent me flying.
I met someone who terrifies me.
Waving Wild - Arum Rae

Shutting the door to Professor Dumbledore's office behind her, Luna became lost in her thoughts as the gravity of her situation began to settle down on her. She wrinkled her nose as she walked through the dark, quiet corridors of the castle alone, considering what would happen if even Dumbledore could not figure out how to get her back to her own time. If she never saw Ginny or Neville or Harry again. If she never saw her father again.

Her feet carried her the path toward Ravenclaw Tower, not needing to consult her mind in order to find their way along a route they had walked so many times in the past. Her eyes followed the cracks between the stones in the corridor floor, and she cheered herself with the consideration of how interesting an article she could write for The Quibber in the event she was in fact able to return to her own time. This thought induced a small, dreamy smile to spring up on her face, and it was with this expression on her face that she ran headlong into someone, causing them to stumble.

Thoughts interrupted, she said, "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"Clearly."

Luna looked up to see whom she had run into, and was met with the sight of a boy about her age. He had black hair with a slight wave to it, swept to the side and back with a carelessness that felt calculated, hanging just a bit into eyes such a dark blue they were almost black in the dim torchlight lighting the corridor. He had a shiny Prefect badge pinned to his chest, and he was looking down an aristocratic nose at her, past sharp cheekbones, black brows furrowing and forming a line of irritation between them.

"What are you doing out of your dormitory? It's after hours."

"I know. I was just headed there now. I'm...a new student," said Luna. She offered a benign smile which he did not return.

His eyes flickered from her earrings, to her purple socks, to her wand tucked behind her ear, and at last back to her face. His left brow raised a fraction higher than the right. "I see. Which house are you in?"

"Ravenclaw," she said. "I suppose...I'm a bit lost?" It hadn't been her intent for it to sound like a question, but she felt out of practice at being dishonest. She supposed she would need to get better at it.

"I'll take you to your common room," he said. "You aren't supposed to be out at this time of night alone." He turned on his heel and began walking towards Ravenclaw Tower.

Luna had to hurry and take several steps to keep up with his long strides. "That's quite nice of you," she said.

"You say you're a new student?" he asked, as though she hadn't spoken.

"Yes. I've just arrived here today."

"We've all just arrived here today; it's the first day back."

Seeing his smirk and choosing to ignore it, Luna said, "Of course. But I'm completely new!"

The boy fell silent, and their footsteps echoed between them. Luna was just thinking they had reached a place of companionable silence when he spoke again. "Why are you coming here all of a sudden?" he asked. "Surely you're in at least fifth or sixth year. Where have you been going until now?"

"Oh." She reviewed the lie Dumbledore had concocted before responding. "Well, you see, I'm a relative of Professor Dumbledore's. I'm his...first cousin, twice removed."

The boy looked sideways at her at this, new interest flaring behind his eyes. "You're related to Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes, I'm rather fond of him, old, er...Cousin Albus. I've been going to Koldovstoretz, but my mother felt it would be a good time to do an exchange year here at Hogwarts. Thought it would be good for my education. And with my dear Cousin Albus here as a professor, the opportunity could not have been better."

"You're Russian?" he asked, deadpan, words heavy with skepticism.

"Ah, no. I'm English," she said, eyelashes fluttering downward. "My, um, father is Russian, though, and wanted me to attend Koldovstoretz."

"You speak Russian, then?"

She hesitated a fraction of a breath, less than the time between one echoing footstep to another. "Yes."

He narrowed his eyes. "You're lying." His voice had changed; previously, even through the smirks, sarcasm, and skepticism, he had maintained a careful cover of politeness in his tone, which now fell away.

Luna felt indignant despite knowing this was a factual statement. "I am not."

"Yes, you are. I don't know why you are, but you are."

"Well, that's awfully presumptuous of you. You've only just met me, and I'm quite excited to be here for my first day, and you're being remarkably unwelcoming. At Koldovstoretz, you would be made to stand outside in the snow and be subject to a Toe Biter jinx as punishment for your lack of hospitality."

The boy stopped walking to stare at her, and Luna took two more steps before stopping as well and looking back at him. Their eyes met, and for the first time she could ever recall, she felt she was being perceived by someone just as perceptive as she was. A second passed. The faintest shiver traveled from her head to her toes. She didn't blink, and the boy frowned. He broke their eye contact. "Fine," he said, continuing to walk, brushing past her, crossing into the intermittent moonbeams cast onto the floor through the windows in the corridor. "What do I care if you're full of rubbish."

The girl flitted after him. "I'm Luna Lovegood," she said.

"Not really a Russian name, is it?"

She winced. "We immigrated once or twice."

"Lovegood...I think I've heard of it. You're pure-blood, then?"

"The polite thing to do would be to then provide your name, sir," she said, "but yes, I'm pure-blood." There was a bored tone to her voice that she didn't bother concealing. She wasn't interested in bloodlines, then. Probably a Mudblood lover, like her supposed relation, Dumbledore.

"Tom Riddle," he said after a brief pause.

"Well, your name sounds familiar, too."

A look of disgust passed over his face like a shadow. "I'm certain you wouldn't have heard of it."

She shook her head, causing her waist-length blonde hair to undulate back and forth in gentle waves, catching the moonlight and winking it back at him. "If you say so."

Another lull in the conversation fell, and Tom stole the opportunity to further scrutinize the girl next to him once again. She was small, more than a full head shorter than him, and everything about her seemed to evoke a feeling that she was about to just up and float away: soft, wispy hair; thin frame; a gait more like drifting than walking; arching brows over grey eyes half-unfocused at least half the time.

As he watched her from the corner of his eye, she crouched near the ground. He was just about to ask her what she was doing when he saw a small, grey mouse approaching her outstretched hand, taking tentative steps into a square of light on the ground. The girl reached into a pocket in her skirt and pulled out a dinner roll which she must have pocketed from the feast earlier, broke off a small, mouse-sized piece, and offered it to the little creature. The mouse stood on its hind legs to sniff at the offering, whiskers twitching. Then it grasped the bit of bread in its tiny hands, placed the bread in its mouth, and scampered back out of sight.

"The cats and owls of this castle will thank you for fattening up their next meal," he said with a curl of his lip as she straightened back up. Her eyes met his, and he again was filled with the unpleasant sensation of translucency. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and spun the black stone ring on his left hand with the fingers of his right. He then dropped his hands to his sides and made fists instead, forcing himself to stop fidgeting.

Luna sniffed. "Perhaps. Either way, the mouse thanked me for providing her next meal."

Tom rolled his eyes and swept off down the corridor again. "Let's go. This has taken enough of my time already."

"And anyway," the girl said from behind him, taking multiple soft steps to keep his pace, "we all die eventually. That doesn't mean it's a waste to take a moment to share in life with one another."

He jerked his head around to look at her, but she was gazing out the windows, dragging a single finger along the wall as they went, and appeared minimally attentive to their conversation.

They reached a narrow spiral staircase, and Tom came to a halt. "Follow this staircase up to the entrance of the Ravenclaw common room," he said, pointing a long finger up the stairs.

"Thank you," she said, falling into a deep curtsy. "I suppose I'll see you around, then?" she asked as she stood back up.

Tom let out a short snicker, more a release of air combined with a cold, close-lipped smile than a laugh. "Sure."

"Excellent. I shall teach you all the Russian that I know."

"I expect that will be a very short lesson."

"By the way, what year are you in?"

"Sixth." Without another word, he turned his back on her, robes swishing behind him. He didn't spare a glance back at her, though he felt a prickling on the back of his neck that told him she was watching him go, and he disappeared back into the night of the castle.

Luna entered the common room and was comforted to see it was not that different than in her own time, with the same bookcases, the same domed starry ceiling, but with different Ravenclaws inside. A handful of students was still awake in the Common Room, and they all followed her with their eyes as she entered. Luna offered a smile to them, then proceeded her way to the staircase to the girls' dormitories.

Coming to the door with a small black plaque on it that said "Sixth Year", she knocked, then entered. Several girls were already inside, including the girl with the black hair that Luna had sat next to during the feast. The girls were still awake, sitting on their beds, and there was one empty bed to the far right of the room. They looked up at her entrance, various shades of surprise evident on their faces.

"Hello," Luna said, crossing to the vacant bed and sitting down with a soft plop. "I'm a new student here; I'm in sixth year."

The black-haired girl was the first to speak. "Well, that explains a lot. We were all just sitting here getting ready for bed when the dormitory - stretched almost, and that extra bed appeared."

"I thought this castle couldn't surprise me anymore," said another girl with short brown hair, who was holding a large book and sitting on the bed closest to Luna.

A tall, very pretty girl with her hair in a braid strode across the dormitory to shake Luna's hand. "Lucinda McTavish," she said, right hand outstretched in front of her.

Luna stood up and shook Lucinda's hand with an exaggerated up-down motion that made the other girls laugh and shoot glances at each other, not quite sure if it was meant to be funny or not. "Luna Lovegood."

The other girls in the dormitory also introduced themselves, then as half of the young women returned to getting ready for bed, three of the girls sat down on Luna's bed with her to talk to her more: Lucinda McTavish; Lorraine Viridian, the brunette girl with the book; and Catalina Litner, the raven-haired girl, who preferred to be called Cat.

"Where are you from, Luna?" Lorraine asked.

"Well, I'm from England, but my father insisted I attend Koldovstoretz," she said, the lie coming easier the more she said it. She explained her distant relation to Professor Dumbledore, which seemed to impress the other girls.

"Dumbledore is one of my favorite professors," Lucinda said.

"Well, he's just brilliant!" Lorraine added.

"And a little bit barmy," Cat said. "No offense, of course, Luna, he is bloody brilliant."

"All the best people are at least a little bit barmy," replied Luna with a smile.

"How did you get placed into Ravenclaw?" Lucinda asked. "You weren't Sorted in the ceremony tonight."

"I, ah, had my own Sorting. Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore were there."

Cat shrugged. "Wish my Sorting had been in private," she said. "I was so nervous walking up to the Hat my first year, I tripped and hit my face on the edge of the stool. Gave myself a bloody nose in front of the entire school."

The girls laughed. "I remember that," Lucinda said playfully. "Couldn't believe it when the Hat put you in Ravenclaw anyway after that. The House of intelligence, honestly. . . ."

This earned a half-hearted shove from Cat. "Remember how scared you were? And you were coming from a Wizarding family, so you knew what to expect! Imagine being Muggle-born; I had no idea what was going on."

"We should get to bed," Lorraine said, standing up and returning to the bed next to Luna's, laying her huge book on the bedside table. "We have to get up early for our first day of classes."

"You're right, I'm feeling quite tired," said Luna, letting out a yawn.

Cat and Lucinda also stood up from Luna's bed and moved towards their own. "We'll get our class schedules in the morning, Luna," Cat said. "We'll have loads of classes together, I'm sure." She dug into her trunk, then threw some pajamas across the dormitory at Luna. Luna caught them, then stared down at them as though unsure what to do with them. When she looked back up at Cat, Cat shrugged. "I noticed your things haven't arrived yet."

They all climbed into their beds and one by one extinguished their lamps. Luna lay on her back, playing the day's events over in her mind. She supposed that if she had to be thrown back several decades in time, this seemed to be a pleasant enough time to be tossed into. The girls sharing her dormitory were already proving themselves to be more friendly to her than those in her own time, who had been known to hide her shoes from her. And what a pleasant, if bittersweet, experience to spend more time with Dumbledore, and to get to see what he was like as a teacher. Surely her father would publish a piece about her adventures in The Quibbler. . . .

Eyelids heavy, her breath slowed and became more regular as she began to doze off. Faces and names swirled in her sleepy mind, like water circling a drain. Albus Dumbledore...Catalina Litner...Lucinda McTavish...Lorraine Viridian...Tom Riddle. . . .

Her legs twitched with a hypnic jerk and she had the sensation of falling. Luna gasped and sat upright in bed, eyes wide in the dark. She heard Lorraine mumble half-asleep from the bed next to her, "You alright, Luna?" but she didn't respond. Heart pounding in her ears, she had at last remembered where she had heard the name Tom Riddle before: from Harry, when he spoke about Lord Voldemort.