Chapter 11

Lady Helena led a teenage girl, perhaps fifteen years old, into the Dreamscape Library. Pale and wan, she wore her long, dark hair in tight pigtails. Her red-rimmed eyes looked as though she'd been crying – for ages.

Luna introduced herself and the others in the room, then paused, waiting for the girl to say something.

"And you are?" Pansy prompted.

"Malone, Myrtle Malone, fifth year Ravenclaw. Well, I was… In Nineteen Forty-two. I'd just finished my O W Ls when Olive Hornsby teased me about my glasses, in front of everybody. I ran into the Second-floor girl's loo and… Died."

Myrtle began to sob, but Helena's soothing voice calmed her, "There, there, child, you're among friends here, you know Sir Nicholas, and Friar Michael, and me, of course."

The ghost girl sniffed and nodded.

"And I know you're not frightened by the Baron."

Myrtle shook her head, "No. I used to be, but not anymore. He's been very kind."

Helena continued, "Remember what we talked about, earlier this week?"

Myrtle looked around, spied Luna, and very timidly asked, "So, you're Luna?"

The girl in question smiled and nodded, "I am. Pleased to meet you, Myrtle. Will you be my spirit companion?"

The ghost, corporeal in Dreamscape, as were all ghosts, shrugged. "If you really want me. I'm not clever and beautiful like The Lady Helena, or brave and true like Sir Nicholas and the Baron, or even as smart as Friar Michael."

Luna held out both her hands, "None of these qualities are required for us to be friends, are they?"

Myrtle's eyes filled with tears again, but the broad smile let everyone see that they were, for the first time in her afterlife, tears of joy. Taking both Luna's hands in hers, Myrtle said, "I would be happy and proud to be your spirit companion for as long as you'll have me."

"That could be a very long time, Lady Myrtle."

"Oh, I'm just plain Myrtle, or Miss Myrtle on special occasions. I have all the time in the world, Lady Luna, Daughter of the Moon."

As an aside to the other Merlins, Helena said, "I told Myrtle that Luna's mother was named after Selene, Goddess of the Moon."

The Baron said, "Miss Myrtle is one of a very few of us who can leave the castle and grounds."

"It's true," the ghost girl said, "I can go wherever water flows, and that makes precious few places forbidden to me."

Luna clapped her hands gleefully, "Then you must come home with Harry and me over the summer holiday, I insist!"

Pansy and Luna took Myrtle into the bathroom and helped her wash decade's worth of tears from her face and blouse. Pansy took down her pigtails and brushed, then combed her hair. When they returned to the Library she looked like a new person.

Her waist-length, coal-black hair stood in stark contrast to her white skin. She, in fact, cleaned up nicely.

Brother Michael explained the role of spirit companions, how they were to help the members of Merlin's House during Dreamtime, and to watch over their charges during waking hours. "There are people who would harm them, and we can summon help should anyone need it."

"But I've been watching," Myrtle said, confused, "And everybody loves the Merlins, or, at least, everyone respects them."

Sir Nicholas shook his head, "Sad to say, some are jealous, and others are under the influence of people outside these castle walls."

Myrtle's eyes narrowed, "Well they'd better not bother our Merlins, not while I'm anywhere near water. And I'm always near water."

)O(

At a back table in the Main Library, three people huddled over a small mirror.

"I don't like this, Mister Malfoy, the Merlins are powerful beyond their years. They are very popular here, and are said to have influential friends."

Draco sniffed, "We're not asking you to hurt anyone, simply get one of the girls alone, but not Lady Granger. Parkinson or Lovegood should be easy to isolate. One of you can stun the girl; the other can give her the veritaserum, then ask the questions. Once that's done, obliviate the girl. You can perform a simple obliviation, can't you?

The Seventh Year Ravenclaw sniffed, "Of course."

From the mirror, a cultured voice drawled, "Do this, and your family's debts will be forgiven."

"What if we're caught?"

"Then this conversation never took place, and your family can kiss their ancestral lands goodbye."

The two Ravenclaws, brother and sister, nodded and left, taking the small, clear bottle with them.

)O(

Pansy left Hermione and Luna in the Hogwarts Library for her evening stroll with Neville. The weather was unseasonably warm for March, and they both liked to walk near the shores of Black Lake in the late afternoon just before dinner. As she made her way down the cobblestones she had a thought, "Lady Helena?"

"Yes, Lady Pansy?"

"I've noticed that the skills we develop in Dreamscape carry over to the waking world."

"'Tis true, Lady Pansy. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I've always been afraid of the water. I can't swim. Neither can Neville or any pureblood I know. On the other hand, nearly all the muggleborns do swim; most have had lessons, some, like Hermione even have pools for swimming at home."

Lady Ravenclaw's ghost looked thoughtful, "What brought this about, Lady Pansy?"

"Well, Neville likes the water so much, but I'm afraid of it. I nearly died when we had to ride in those tiny boats at the beginning of First Term. And he's asked me to picnic with him on Green Island."

"The moss-covered rock in the middle of Black Lake?"

"The very same, my Lady. He was disappointed when I said no."

"You go on to the lake with your betrothed," the ghost smiled at Pansy's reddening cheeks, "I'll see if there isn't a pool we can use in dreamscape."

Pansy had to leave Lady Helena at the end of the walkway, as the Ravenclaw Ghost was bound to the castle proper. Neville was there presumably with Sir Nicholas, who had the run of the grounds as well as the castle. Presumably, because Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington was the soul of discretion and only appeared when called.

Neville and Pansy walked along the pea-gravel shore, hand in hand, and talked about everything and nothing. Already the best of friends, comfortable with each other.

Harry met his girlfriends in the library. He sat in the empty chair between them and said, "Sorry I'm late, I had to get the stinksap out of my hair and clothes. I must have shampooed four times." He pulled the end of a strand from his shoulder-length, auburn hair and gave it an experimental sniff, "I think it's all out now."

Hermione reached out with her left hand, and Luna with her right to run their fingers through his thick locks. Growing it out had been the right thing to do; the same properties that made his hair untamable when short gave it body and natural wave when worn long.

Luna grinned, "I know girls who would kill to have hair this gorgeous."

Hermione smirked, "Yeah. Me, for one."

Harry looked at her and smiled, "Your hair is perfect, Your Grace."

Luna pouted, "What about mine?"

He looked to his other side and said, "Your hair is perfect, too, My Lady."

Keeping the pout going, she groused, "But my hair is nothing like Hermione's."

"That's right, and so your hair is perfect for you, and Hermione's is perfect for her. You are completely different, and therefore, completely perfect."

At this, both girls sat, open mouthed in shock.

Finally, Hermione said, "Harry, that was, that was…"

"The perfect thing to say?" Luna suggested.

"…yeah."

Harry smiled, and thought to himself, I'll have to do something nice for the Lady Helena, her lessons are going to keep me out of so much trouble.

What he said was, "Was it? I'm just telling it like it is."

)O(

The Merlins, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs entered the Defence classroom, wondering who the instructor would be this week and were surprised to see the Headmaster at the front desk.

"You shouldn't be so surprised, ladies and gentlemen, after all, every headmaster has taught every subject offered at this school at least once."

He leaned forward and lowered his voice, "Frankly, though, I was pants at Divination."

This admission set the students at ease and they got down to the day's lessons, transfiguration for defence.

The class practiced transfiguring desktops into different materials, stone being the most sought after end-result. Wood to stone was relatively easy, but Dumbledore showed the class how to make a wooden surface as hard and clear as diamond.

"It's a pity we can't make this transfiguration permanent, it would be of inestimable value."

The Headmaster had the students move all the furniture to the walls, clearing the center of the room for sparring practice.

"Mild stinging hexes only," Dumbledore admonished, "Unless you want your next opponent to be me."

Everyone got the message; no one wanted to oppose the greatest wizard of the 20th Century.

"But sir," Blakely, a Hufflepuff, complained, "there's nothing to transfigure for a shield."

"Perhaps, Mister Blakely, that's why we're only allowing mild stinging hexes?"

The Merlins, not content to simply stand and get stung, did some interesting calisthenics to avoid most of the stingers.

Then Luna laughed, and said, "Harry, sting me. Go ahead, I won't dodge this one."

Harry, not understanding, asked, "Are you sure? You might, um, feel a little prick."

Pansy covered her guffaw with an impromptu coughing fit.

Luna smiled dreamily, and said, "I'm not worried."

"Okay, attonitus!"

The hex sped toward Luna's leg, but dissipated just shy of its target. Once the hex was neutralized, there was a pop, like that of a champagne cork.

Gobsmacked, Harry asked, "Was that a shield, a targeted protego?"

Albus Dumbledore, smiling broadly, said, "No, Mister Evans, Miss Lovegood is simply applying today's lesson in defence."

Hermione jumped up and down, clapping, "You transfigured the air!"

"Yes, yes. Well done Merlins. Take ten points for your house."

"What did you transfigure the air into?" Harry asked.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Um, hum. A perfect nothing. I transfigured a shield-sized sheet of air into a vacuum."

Neville got it too. "Most hexes have to pass through a conductor, even if it's just air. No air, nothing for the spell to go through."

Luna beamed, "It's simple really, you have to form a containment, like a large, flat box. Then vanish the air from the container. The vacuum lasts as long as the container holds it."

"That's why there was a popping noise; when the 'container' collapses, the air rushes in. Like a little clap of thunder." Harry sussed.

The Merlins spent the rest of the period showing their classmates how to transfigure air into nothing, and contain it in a thin field. It was probably the first really useful class about nothing ever taught.

Charms class followed, and the spur-of-the-moment "chariot" race became the stuff of legend.

One of the more useful charms is animation, that is, the animation of normally inanimate objects, such as the chairs and tables in the classroom.

Professor Flitwick entered the classroom, riding comfortably on his tall stool, which walked with the easy gait of a camel, and began the lesson.

"There are those who find it amusing to animate a classmate's chair, making it scuttle out of the way when the victim sits down. Ask the Weasley Twins, I gave them five points each for successfully animating two chairs, but then had to remove ten points, each, for what was, in fact, a rather mean prank.

"They have assured me that they will use cushioning charms in the future to avoid embarrassing injuries."

The demi-goblin made sure each student had a pair of scissors for the practical lab.

"It is fairly easy to animate a pair of scissors, as they open to form what are, essentially, two pointed legs and two rounded arms. The lab will be complete when everyone can walk with their scissors from one end of the classroom to the other, remember, walk, never, ever run with scissors…"

Half the class groaned and the other half looked lost and confused.

The five Merlins had their clippers do a close order drill, marching from the front of the classroom to the back, where they halted, sharply about faced, then stood at parade rest, awaiting further orders.

Harry, Hermione and Luna worked with the Slytherins while Pansy and Neville assisted the Gryffindors. Soon the formation was a small company of clippers, four columns of six marching, in step, with sharp precision all around the classroom.

Flitwick applauded with sheer, unabashed delight.

Harry casually flicked his wand and whispered, permoveo equus, then directed Luna's chair over to her, backwards, so that the back of the chair resembled the long neck of a pony. The equine chair nudged Luna's side with its make-believe head as if looking for a scratch between the uprights. Luna squealed in delight and petted the animation.

Soon five, then ten chairs were trotting around the classroom.

The professor, sensing a teachable moment, directed the furniture, and the animators, outside, where the equine seats could galumph to their heart's content.

Hermione and Luna held back, wanting to be the last out of the classroom. When they did emerge, the professor and students all stared, stupefied.

The Ladies Merlin were dressed in short white togas, laurel wreaths atop their brows. They had transfigured tables into two-wheeled chariots, and held reins that controlled six equine chairs each.

Both girls raised their left hands, Luna began, "Hail Caesar!"

Hermione finished, saying, "Let the Circus Maximus begin!"

Harry turned to the professor, who looked back, as if to say, "Could we stop them if we wanted to?"

What the professor said was, "Hey, don't look at me, I'm no Caesar."

Harry smiled, raised his hand and said, "Three circuits around the commons, the winner may choose a forfeit for the loser. Begin!"

With maniacal glee, Luna snapped the reins, "Hah!"

Hermione followed, right behind, determined to overtake her opponent.

The commons was a large square, and, as classes were in session, thankfully empty. Luna careened through the first turn on one wheel, Hermione close on her heels.

The first half of the race, one and a half circuits, Hermione endured dirt and grass and pebbles kicked up by Luna's chariot wheels.

Cheers from the commons had students crowding the classroom windows all around the square.

Hermione managed to edge inside on the next turn, so that her chairs charged ahead. Both charioteers were equally matched on the straight runs. It was obvious the race would be won or lost on the turns.

Luna reigned back, letting her opponent get ahead so that she could switch to the inside. Sure enough, she was able to crowd Hermione to the outside on the next turn, their wheels clipping ominously.

With two turns to go, Hermione steered her steeds to an intercept point that would have caused a spectacular crash if Luna hadn't seen it coming and reined back.

Last turn, and both girls were out for blood. Faces contorted into angry scowls, they screamed at their equines.

"Give it all you've got, damn you!"

"Move yer bloomin' arse!"

Then, Luna and Hermione looked at each other and everything seemed to stop.

The cheering crowd, the clattering chair feet, the wind in their hair.

Both had a moment, a quarter-second of crystal clarity.

"I could win this race, but lose something that really matters."

They both slowed to a trot, then to a walk.

Crossing the finish line in perfect step.

Both girls dropped their reins, jumped down from their chariots, then pulled each other into a tight embrace. They fell to their knees, clinging desperately to one another.

Harry looked at his best friends, completely gobsmacked.

"What just happened?" he asked, in a small voice.

Pansy put a hand on his shoulder.

"What just happened, you lucky bloke, is that your girlfriends have made their choice."

"And what choice was that?"

"It's not my place to say, My Lord. But trust me. It's a good thing."

Pansy walked over to Neville and said, "Let me see that letter again, then I want to talk to Parvati."

)O(

That night, in Dreamscape, the Castle Ghosts led the Merlins outside.

Neville said, "Huh, I never noticed that wall before."

Indeed, a fairly high stone wall started at the end of the footpath, straight into Black Lake and extended into the water.

"'Tis a privacy fence, My Lord, the ladies will be on one side and the lords will be on the other."

"And why do we need a privacy wall, fence, whatever?" Harry asked.

Helena smiled, "Because you will be bathing on this side and our ladies will be bathing on the other."

"Bathing?"

Pansy sque-eed, "Swimming! We're going to learn to swim!"

Hermione huffed, "Boys and girls swim together all the time, honestly."

Friar Mike raised an eyebrow, "And you are comfortable with this, My Lady Hufflepuff?"

"Of course, why not? It's not like we're naked. We wear swimmers."

The older ghosts looked confused, Myrtle explained, "Swimmers are bathing costumes."

Sir Nicholas scowled, "Why anyone would wear clothing into the water is beyond me. I'm sorry My Lords, My Ladies, we don't have "swimmers" in Dreamscape. So, unless you've gone completely Bohemian, may I suggest we retire to our own side of the fence?"

The Lady Helena and Myrtle led the girls to one side of the wall, Sir Nicholas, the Baron and Friar Mike took the boys to the other.

The girls, not yet of an age to suffer from 'body envy' quickly stripped and ran into the water, which was pleasantly cool, but not cold. Pansy and Luna each had a personal swim instructor as Hermione and Myrtle were both muggleborn, and were already expert swimmers.

The boys, however, had to endure the droning of Friar Mike reading instructions from a manual he'd found in the library.

The first lesson was ominously referred to as "drown-proofing."

By the time the boys were comfortable floating, first face up, then face down in the water the girls were already learning basic swim strokes.

The girls called over, "How's it going over there."

Harry groused, "Great, just great. We're learning how not to drown."

"Give us a minute, we'll be right over!"

Neville sounded panicked, "What, over here?"

"It's okay, were mostly underwater, and the water's all murky."

The boys watched the edge of the wall in the deeper water and soon saw Hermione's head, then Myrtle's, followed by the others.

There were a few, awkward, uncomfortable moments, as neither Harry nor Neville had ever been nude in the presence of members of the opposite sex. But, as their hormones were still dormant, it soon became a non-issue.

Hermione worked with Harry, Myrtle and Pansy gave Neville tips, advice and encouragement.

Harry turned out to be a natural, picking up the breaststroke, the Australian Crawl, and the side stroke with preternatural ease. When, after just a few minutes of instruction, he'd managed a perfectly acceptable butterfly, Hermione squealed and pulled him into a tight hug.

A tight, naked hug.

And it was okay.

The dreaded hormones were yet to awaken.

Myrtle blushed, wondering, was I ever that innocent?

After several hours of swimming in Dreamscape, the Merlins were very comfortable around water, and each other.

)O(

Mid-April was damp and dreary. Dreamscape aside, the Merlins were feeling restless.

Even the Library, their favourite haven in the real world, seemed a bit stifling.

And for some unknown reason, Hermione was feeling cranky.

Luna looked worried, "Hermione, um, your Nargelites are looking a little wonky. Are you feeling okay?"

Truth be told, she wasn't feeling particularly 'okay,' she felt crabby and moody and having the fact that you don't feel good ratted out on you by tiny motes of magic that only one person can see in the real world caused her to lash out irrationally.

"No, and if you can't keep your bloody pets away from me, at least have the decency to be quiet about them!"

It was the most vehement, hurtful thing Hermione had ever said in her whole life, and she'd said it to the most vulnerable girl in the school.

If an expression can make a sound, Luna's would have been that of shattering glass, a whole wall of shattering glass.

Eyes brimming with tears, she bolted from the library table.

Hermione sat at the table, frozen in shock.

Where in Hell did that come from?

"Luna? Luna I'm sorry!" she tried to call after her best friend's retreating back.

Miss Pince shushed her.

"Oh, shush yourself, you old biddy!" Hermione said, running after Luna.

Harry came back to the table with two heavy tomes on arithmancy and runes, only to find it empty.

He looked at the adjacent table where Neville and Pansy were pouring over the fine print in some contract and said, "Pansy, Neville?"

No response.

He walked closer and felt the edge of a privacy 'bubble.' "Did you see where Luna and Hermione went?"

Both shook their heads, "No, sorry, we've been concentrating on this."

Harry left the quieted sphere and walked into Miss Pince in mid-tirade, "…remember that the Hogwarts Library is a privilege, a privilege young man, not a right. And privileges can be revoked."

"I'm sorry, Miss Prince, are you talking to me?"

"I said," she continued, gamely, "as your friends ran away, shouting, that they need to be reminded that the Hogwarts Library…"

"Is a privilege, yes Miss, I got that. Did you see which way they went?"

With that the librarian threw up her hands and stormed back to the circulation desk.

When Luna ran from the library, sobbing, two Ravenclaws followed her. When she rounded a second corner into a deserted corridor, the younger one whispered, "Stupefy!"

Just then, in the second floor girl's loo, Myrtle Malone felt a tug. Something was not quite right in Hogwarts Hallowed halls.

They just managed to pull her into an empty classroom and close the door when Hermione, now in tears herself, ran down the same corridor, shouting, "Luna, please, I'm sorry, I swear, I didn't mean it, Luna…"

The older Ravenclaw looked at the door, and sighed in relief as Hermione's voice faded in the distance.

"Trouble within the Merlins, I see."

The boy's sister just shrugged, and said with a pronounced Irish brogue, "Show me any group of three or more, outside the Trinity, that doesn't have its share of troubles. Have yeh got the bottle?"

He smiled, then pulled the small vial from his robe.

Rolling Luna on her back, the boy said, hold her mouth open, I'll give her a few drops, then we can enervate her.

He was about to unstopper the bottle when a ghost, wailing like a banshee, burst up through the floor.

Ghosts were common in Hogwarts, simply part of the charm of the place, but this was an angry, vengeful spirit. And these children, being Irish, knew about banshees.

"What have you done? Have you hurt her? Have you harmed our Blessed Moon's child?"

"Nuh, no! I swear, we haven't harmed her, I swear!"

"To me! Spirits of Hogwarts, to me!"

Suddenly the room was filled with ghosts, and none of them were benign.

The door splintered as an overpowered reducto reduced it to toothpicks, and an angry Hermione Granger, looking even more frightening than the ghosts in the room, stood silhouetted in the doorframe.

"Step away from my sister, now!"

The two Ravenclaws scuttled back.

Hermione slid on her knees to cradle Luna's head on her lap.

The miscreants tried to bolt out the door but ran into the rest of the House of Merlin.

"What have you done to her?" Hermione demanded, her voice all the more frightening as it was devoid of any emotion.

The girl, sensing how close to death she was, said, "Nothin', just a mild stunner, she's not even hurt, see?"

Hermione didn't even use her wand; she simply caressed Luna's face gently and whispered "Enervate."

Luna's eyes fluttered open, "Oh, Hermione, I'm so, so sorry…"

Hermione helped her sit up, "Shush, you have nothing to be sorry about. I'm just glad you weren't hurt, wait, there's blood on the floor. Luna, are you feeling okay, are you hurt anywhere."

"Um, Hermione?"

But Hermione was inspecting the back of Luna's head for any kind of wound.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, I'm here, Luna, can you feel where you're bleeding?"

"Hermione, um, it's not my blood."

"Wha?"

)O(

As always, three cheers to Tommy King, Brit-picker extraordinaire, without whom, this would just be a tale told by a 'shudder' Floridian Yank – which is wrong on so many levels…