Aaand here it is! The frying pan, Ladies and Gentelmen!
II(:
Chapter two, in which a Frying Pan is Borrowed
The Hat fell over Marie's eyes. That Godric fellow must have had a huge head, the elf reflected. And then she heard the voice in her head.
Let's see… it said, You're not exactly a Hufflepuff, are you?
'No,' she replied 'I'm not.'
How about Slytherin? The Hat asked.
Marie considered it. She would fit in there, wouldn't she? But it just wouldn't do right now.
'I don't think so,' she said.
Well, the Hat said, I suppose I could put you in Ravenclaw…Yes… You do have the brains…
'Gryffindor,' Marie said firmly 'You're going to put me in Gryffindor.'
It wasn't even an order. She was stating a fact. The Hat still seemed to want to argue, though.
'I can't be in Ravenclaw,' she said 'Ever heard of a heroine like me who was in Ravenclaw?'
A few, the Hat replied, Contrary to popular belief, intelligence is a very useful trait in a hero… But if you insist… You did have the nerve to demand it after all…
'That's right. I did.'
XXX
Minerva McGonagall was not, under normal circumstances, a nervous person. But this was, after all her first official speech as Headmistress of Hogwarts. So many things could go wrong. And they had gone wrong. This was not a usual start-of-term feast at all. First of all she had to welcome all the new and returning students. Many of them had left halfway through the last school year. She hadn't been quite sure which year to place them in. And then there was the O'Doome girl. McGonagall finally decided to just sort her along with the first-years, in alphabetical order. The girl had seemed a little disappointed by that. And, as if having to sort out all this post-war mess wasn't enough, there was what Hagrid had shown her the other day. It had looked all wrong. And there had been snow. Hagrid had said there were creatures too. All sorts of things that didn't belong here. Most of them were more or less harmless and didn't leave the Forest, but it was only a matter of time. Albus would have known what to do, but he wasn't there any more. She was the Headmistress now and it was her job to look after everyone.
'And finally,' she said 'I would like to remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is still forbidden.'
She looked around at the crowd of students. Maybe this wasn't the right thing to say.
'Anyone who breaks this rule will be punished.'
She considered adding 'if they survive', but decided against it. It was too dramatic. They wouldn't take it seriously.
XXX
That night Luna Lovegood lurked in the shadows. This was a bit like her first year, or so she desperately tried to think, because it helped keep her mind off the fear. Oh, she had been frightened back then, of course. She hadn't wanted to get caught and, let's face it, the Forest itself is quite creepy at night. Creepy enough to scare a little girl who just wanted to see what was in there. But this was a completely different kind of fear. That had been exciting. This just made her want to go right back to her dormitory and pull a blanket over her head. Not that this would help, of course. Blankets were nice, but they were no match for them. Neither were doors and walls, and passwords, and riddles. Something sharp or heavy and made of iron might be. And knowing where you stood could help too. It was the Ravenclaws' traditional weapon, and, to be honest, the only one Luna was comfortable with.
And this was why she was here. She had to be sure. Finding the spot was not easy. She had only been there once before and she had sworn (only to herself, since no one else knew she had been there, but still) never to return. But sometimes you had to break a small promise made to yourself to keep a bigger one, so big it never really had to be made, to everyone.
She found it. A small clearing, a couple of large stones forming a… not quite circle, but it was probably the thought that counted. And that was about it. Or it had been, before the frost appeared on the grass between the stones.
Before going back to bed Luna stopped at the kitchens and borrowed the heaviest frying pan she could find.
XXX
Neville lay wide awake in his four-poster bed in the Gryffindor tower. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about her. She had been so beautiful. He didn't really know her, but he suspected she was very nice too. And smart. And… well, she was still new, but he was sure she was going to be popular. (He got two out of three right. Some of his teachers would say it was exceptionally good by his standards.)
And he was almost sure he didn't have a chance. But maybe it was worth a try? No, he could never find the courage to talk to her. Sure, he had lead Dumbledore's army in Harry's absence. He had faced Voldemort himself when it seemed all hope was lost. He had killed that snake and people had cheered and some of them still seemed to think he was some kind of hero. But he didn't have the courage to face Marie Suzanne O'Doome and tell her how she made him feel.
Maybe if he didn't have to face her…? Neville summoned his quill and some parchment, lit his wand and started to write. He got stuck on 'Dear Marie,'.