A/N: Welcome to the second chapter, in which Dearest gets a new roof!

Chapter 2: Dearest's New Roof, Part 1

I moved around my tiny house, making dinner for myself and my kitten. Crookshanks was walking around the kitchen, mewing loudly and, I assume, asking for food. I don't know why he's asking for my food when I'm eating oxtail and ox tongue and he only eats fish flavoured foods.

Or was it me that ate only ate fish flavoured foods and the cat ate the ox? Ah well, I'll find out soon enough.

It was late, near midnight, and I had spent the day painting my roof. There had been a huge rock on my roof – it was a rather light roof, and I painted it yellow and green. I was bored of the simple black colour.

Also, the Fairy Queen is making a visit. I have no idea what she looks like, what size she is and if she likes ox tongue, because I thought I could, you know, put some in a plastic container for her so she could take it home. But if she was too small to carry it, then we have a problem… she would just have to eat it with me.

Ah well, if she doesn't like it, it means more for me! Or Crookshanks, I still hadn't figured it out.

Well, anyways, the massive rock on my roof actually had a reason to be there, but I couldn't remember what it was. All I knew was that the removal of said rock made Crookshanks mew repeatedly. I suspected the cat was laughing at me and calling me stupid – I am NOT stupid! I am the smartest witch that I know!

While I was arguing with Crookshanks about pushing the rock off my roof, Harry came by. He's cute.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" He asked. His voice was impossibly squeaky. I don't know why, but all of the elves sound like children. I don't, but they do. I sound like a normal teenage girl, thank you very much.

"I'm going to push this rock from my roof, but Crookshanks think I'm insane." I answered. Crookshanks started to do his strange little laugh again.

"Is he now? Dearest, why do you want to push that rock off your roof?" He asked, his nose crinkling in interest. He has a cute nose.

"I'm going to paint my roof, and I need the rock gone." I said, pushing hard against the rock, but it didn't even budge.

Bloody, racist rock! Move, mortal, or else!

"Hermione… you are a witch, remember?" The teenager with the way too squeaky voice said. I stopped pushing the rock and blinked. He was right! I laughed nervously and pulled out my wand, waving it and the rock fell to the ground with a loud thud, only just missing his cute shoes.

I continued to paint the roof (this time I used my wand, boy did I feel like an idiot).

Okay, so, now I was in my kitchen, and I was making dinner, and Crookshanks was mewing, and the wind was blowing awfully fiercely. I closed the windows quickly in fear of my superhero figurines toppling over. They were a gift from King Rosehalo after I saved the kingdom from the Blueberry's Yellow Witch.

There was a huge gust of wind and my newly painted flipped up and off my roof. So that was why the rock was there!

What the batshit? I mean catshit, sorry, bats are offending. Who the hell decided it was a good idea to put a rock on a roof and to, I don't know, staple it? Right, that was me, I was in a hurry. Damn it.

And then the bell rang. Great, I have visitors and not a roof! Fantastic! Did they not see the bloody wind stealing roof? "Oh, a flying roof. Ah well, let's see who's home and torture them a while."

I turned the stove down so as not to overcook or burn my tongue and tail, and stomped to the door. I hope someone was returning my roof, though that could be impossible. And, as if to add insult to injury, it started to rain. I was drenched by the time I got to the door. Well, not really, but it's a stylistic device, damn it.

I wrenched it open and nearly screamed at my late visitor.

"Good evening," Said one of the sweetest voices I had ever heard. My guest was a beautiful lady, probably my age, with pale skin, huge and beautiful eyes with dirty blonde hair that reached mid-back.

"Uh, hello, how can I help you?" I asked, abandoning my idea of screaming at her. She looked so innocent that I couldn't scar her like that. Seamus the elf still wasn't talking to me.

"I apologise, young witch, but I got lost on my way to the castle." She explained, and I stood back, allowing her entry. Couldn't have the pretty woman getting all wet.

"I assume you need a place to sleep for the night?" I asked, and she nodded, raindrops dripping from her eyelashes. That was cute – not my type of thing, though.

"My name is Luna… and you don't have a roof. Did the nargles steal your roof?" She asked, and I realised she had a dreamy voice, as if she was airy and ditzy. And what the hell were nargles? If they stole my newly painted roof, I would find them and kill them with my own two hands. And maybe Crookshanks would help.

"No, the wind blew it off just before you arrived," I said, and then my eyes widened, "My ox tongue!" I whirled to my oven and switched it off before the rain dripping on my oven could shock me.

"You're making ox tongue? That's my favourite!" She exclaimed, and I laughed. I liked her already.

"Mine too, but my roof decided to fly off. So I can't finish it tonight. But if you wanted to stay for the night, that would be fine, and we could make it for breakfast?" I offered. You see, she wasn't a Blueberry, because Blueberries have a certain accident, and she was too nice to be a Blueberry. I just know what Blueberries sound like, and my house would've kicked her out if she was one anyways.

"Really?" She asked, her dazy voice going up an octave. That wasn't so cute anymore.

"Sure, you can take my bed and Crookshanks and I'll sleep under the table in a sleeping bag, and you can take my room," I smiled, "Have you eaten yet?"

"No, I'm afraid not." She answered, smiling self-consciously. I laughed and made her a bowl of oatmeal.

"Sorry it isn't anything else, but I can't risk it. If you stay for the night, we can enjoy ox tongue in the morning." I smiled at her – I liked Luna. I pulled the sleeping bag from my closet and made sure she was comfy. I then made myself comfortable under the kitchen table.

The rain had mercifully stopped by this time, and I stared out at the stars. This no roof thing wouldn't be so bad if it would come raining on my parade.