Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban Timeline

"He Holds the Moon"

ooo

"She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice;

it was supposed to make you feel something."

- Eleanor & Park, Rainbow Rowell

QUIDDITCH AND LOVEGOOD

The days that followed the Halloween incident were full of excited buzzing and wild theories about Sirius Black, every single one more ludicrous and unreasonable than the other. Really, Nora thought, how would Sirius Black turn himself into a flowering shrub and what would that accomplish him?

Everyone seemed to have gone a bit absurd.

Nora, for the most part, couldn't care less about coming up with theories as she had much more important things to worry about. Professor McGonagall had instructed both she and Percy to keep Harry under tight surveillance, so they had been taking turns walking him to class in between their own. That along with her heavy course-load and extra patrol shifts around the castle at night, didn't leave her a lot of free time.

She was also fairly sure Professor Lupin was mad at her, or at the very least actively avoiding her. He had stopped showing up early to class like he used to, wouldn't even so much as look at her during meals in the Great Hall, nor smile when they walked past each other in the hallways. No more stolen touches or glances, no more witty banter about books over tea. She had no idea what she'd done to warrant the sudden distance. Perhaps she shouldn't have nuzzled his hand that night, but he had taken just as much liberties as she had, more in fact. They were friends, he'd said so himself. Now that she had finally started to believe he might think of her as special, as more than just one of his students, he was pulling away.

"Maybe it was all in my head," Nora mused out loud as she scrubbed Byron's bristly fur with soap after she managed to coax the dog into letting her give him a bath in the lake. "Maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see, projecting my own feelings. What do you think?"

Byron stared at her with what could only be described as amusement, in that way dogs do, with his head cocked to the side. He barked gruffly and shook his body, splashing her with water.

"Stop it, you scoundrel!"

He barked again, skipping around her in circles, before grabbing the hem of her skirt with his teeth and pulling hard, making her fall on her bum in the lake. She gasped loudly; the water was freezing!

Byron appeared to find the whole ordeal hilarious. She could have sworn he was laughing.

Nora had been spending time with Bryon nearly every day, but his keen intelligence never ceased to baffle her. Not only did he seem to understand everything she said to him, but his yellow eyes conveyed a myriad of very real, very human emotions.

They fooled around in the lake despite the chilly weather. Afterwards, Nora cast a quick spell to dry them both off and they settled at the base of the large oak, watching the sun dive behind the mountains in the distance. Next to her head, on one of the oak's thick roots, Ophelia uncurled herself, stretched her long limbs with a yawn, and went back to sleep.

"I'm such an idiot, aren't I?" Nora said out loud again to no one in particular. "I shouldn't have got my hopes up. I mean, why would he fancy me back? What could he possibly see in me? There's nothing worth looking at. Even if there was, I'm damaged anyway, it was only a matter of time until he figured out exactly how much…"

When Byron licked her cheek with a whimper, she wrapped her arms around his bony neck.

"You're such a good boy, Byron," she cooed lovingly, burying her nose in his fur as fresh tears began to pool behind her eyes. "If you stick around, I'll find a way to take you home with me and Tris after I graduate. I've been saving money and I finally have enough to buy a house. Nothing fancy, but it'll be safe. We can be a real family — me, you, Tris and Ophelia. And maybe… maybe I can ask Dumbledore to let me take Harry in too… not right away, but after I find a job that pays well. If raising one teenage boy is expensive, I can only imagine two. I wouldn't mind trying, though. Harry deserves to have someone at least try."

Her words seemed to have a profound impact on Byron. While she was talking he had climbed onto her lap, although he was too big so only half of him was on while the other half was still dangling off, and he was shaking violently against her. Getting emotional too, Nora held on to him until the sun disappeared and the sky was almost dark. Only then she felt brave enough to say goodbye and return to the castle, Ophelia trotting close to her heels.

Nora stopped in front of the large door to her common room and waited for the bronze eagle-shaped knocker to speak its riddle.

"Spelled forwards I am what you do every day, spelled backwards I am what you hate. Can you guess what I am?"

It was a tough one; she had to struggle a minute. "Live — spelled backwards it reads evil," she answered. "That's rather depressing, isn't it?"

The eagle rolled its eyes, but there was a soft click as the door unlocked. Nora pushed it open and climbed the spiralling staircase. There was some excitement in the common room. A small crowd seemed to have gathered around the noticeboard.

She flopped down between Emma and Liam, who had taken over the blue couch in front of the fireplace. "What's going on?"

"Duelling club's starting next week," Emma answered without looking up from her toenails, which she was painting bright pink. "I've already signed us up."

"Right, the duelling club," Nora muttered under her breath. She had completely forgotten about that. Yet another chance for Professor Lupin to pretend she didn't exist while in the same room... Brilliant, she thought bitterly.

Liam made an annoyed noise from his nose when Ophelia jumped on his lap and trampled all over his Transfiguration essay. "Seriously, Lia?" The cat blinked, making herself comfortable right there. Sighing in defeat, he turned to Nora, "Where were you all afternoon?"

"Needed some time to myself," she sidestepped. "Did you get around to finishing the banners for the game this weekend? Julia's really pumped up for it."

"When is she not? But yeah, all finished."

"Let's hope Gryffindor annihilates those snakes," Emma said excitedly.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, Gryffindor wasn't going to get a chance to annihilate Slytherin. The weather took a nasty turn right before the game, bringing forth strong winds and heavy rain, and Markus Flint, captain of Slytherin's Quidditch team, managed to convince Madam Hooch to switch them for Hufflepuff under the excuse that Malfoy still hadn't fully recovered from his injury.

It was obviously a lie, they just didn't want to play in the harsh conditions. Julia was furious. Nora and the twins had to physically restrain her from beating up Flint every time she caught sight of him in the hallways.

"Why won't you let me bash his ugly teeth in already? At least then they'd have a proper excuse not to play!"

"I'm Head Girl, I can't allow you to use violence on another student," Nora tried to reason with her. But it was no use, Julia had gone deaf from all the blood ringing in her ears. All that was left for them to do was make sure their hot-tempered friend didn't do anything too stupid that could potentially get her suspended from the team.

As the weather continued to steadily decline, so did Nora's mood. Her nightmares had returned with renewed vigour. Two days before the game she woke up in cold sweats and ended up with her head in the toilet, retching until there was only acid left to throw up. The rest of her day went no better. She could barely concentrate during Charms because her head was throbbing so painfully, and it was the same during her study sessions with Liam and Emma in the library. Then, on her way to the Great Hall, Nora had to confiscate Frog Spawn Soap off some Slytherins trying to prank the girls bathroom on the first floor. Safe to say, they were not very happy about it and they had no qualms about expressing their discontentment, forcing her to deduct several house points off their house.

She didn't think things could get any worse, but she ought to have known better. Just as she sat down for the feast, Tristan came running to her table to complain about Snape having taken over Defence Against the Dark Arts because Professor Lupin was out sick. Whatever appetite Nora had managed to work up until then vanished at once.

Sure enough, when she walked into Defence Against the Dark Arts the next morning there was no sign of Professor Lupin, only Snape sitting comfortably behind the teacher's desk. She glared daggers at the man all the way to her and Emma's usual table.

"Something the matter, Miss Cavanaugh? Disappointed that you might have to do some actual work today? So far I can't say I'm impressed with the way Lupin has been handling his classes."

"Professor Lupin is doing a wonderful job," Nora rebutted. Both Emma and Liam looked at her in surprise; it was the first time she stood up to one of their teachers.

Snape slid out of his chair and stepped around his desk, sneer already in place. "I suppose he would be up to your incredibly low standards. But then again, you are the matron of all lost causes in this school, aren't you, Miss Cavanaugh?"

Nora was used to Snape's bullying antics. He'd had it out for her for a long time now, even before Tristan joined Harry's group of friends. Normally she would lower her head and take it. Not today. Wether it was the influence of her awful humour, or because she couldn't stand to hear Snape trash Professor Lupin's reputation even though he was avoiding her, she kept her head held high this time.

"With all due respect, professor, from what I've heard of your previous class, you should keep to Potions and leave Defence Against the Dark Arts for someone who is clearly more capable, efficient and talented than you."

There was a loud collective gasp in the classroom from all the students who had arrived in the meantime.

"Detention, Miss Cavanaugh," Snape hissed in a voice that was deceptively calm. "And twenty points from Ravenclaw for disrespecting a teacher."

She gritted her teeth to stop yet another unpleasant remark from coming out. She'd said enough already. Taking a page out of her own book, she remind herself that as Head Girl she should be setting an example and not getting into more trouble.

"Sit down — all of you!" Snape barked at the students who were still standing. At once everyone scrambled to their seats. "Class is already in session. Open your books on page 73, we will be reviewing Unforgivable Curses and how to properly counteract them…"

Liam attacked Nora as soon as she returned to her desk. "Insulting Snape to his face? Have you completely lost your mind? What the hell's wrong with you?"

"I'm sick and tired of letting that man trample all over me." She pulled her manual brusquely from her bag, opened it on the table. "What sort of coward goes around trashing a fellow teacher to their students? Professor Lupin's not even here to defend himself."

"Professor Lupin again," Liam drawled venomously. "What is it with you and that—" Before he could finish the sentence, she pierced him with a glare sharper than a knife. He gulped, shutting his mouth.

Emma was grinning proudly. "I thought it was smashing."

"Me too," agreed Nate Ainsworth, who was sitting next to Liam behind Nora and Emma. "Never knew you had it in you, Cavanaugh."

Class dragged out at an excruciating pace while they listened to Snape go on about Unforgivable Curses like it was the sole purpose of his life. When the bell rang, no one wasted another second putting away their things and fleeing class.

Assuming Snape would want to discuss details for her detention, Nora hung back.

"Seeing as both you and Mr. Weasley have deemed appropriate to challenge me," said Snape silkily while staring at her shrewdly from over his large nose, "I believe it's only befitting you should join him this evening in the hospital wing to give Madam Pomfrey a hand with cleaning out bed pots."

"Yes, sir," Nora muttered through clenched teeth.

Eyes narrowed, Snape leaned forward and laced his fingers over a pile of essays he had them work on after his never-ending monologue. "I am curious as to why you would ruin your immaculate record for a mangy, old teacher. Especially one who's been ignoring you all week. Trouble in paradise, Miss Cavanaugh?"

His mouth twisted into a smug, malicious smirk when Nora made the mistake of expressing shock. Much to her chagrin, she could already feel her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"I'll report to the hospital wing after dinner," she managed to spit out despite her knotted tongue, choosing to ignore his comment altogether. "May I take my leave now?"

"Actually, Miss Cavanaugh, I've quite changed my mind," he said in a most arrogant and satisfied fashion, like a cat who had just eaten the canary. "The cauldrons in my class have started to pile up as of late so I would like you to report to the dungeons instead."

More time stuck with Snape? Nora paled. "But you said—"

"Five more points from Ravenclaw. Now move along, I'm quite done with you for the moment."

She stormed off, boiling with rage. Liam and Emma were waiting for her right outside. They took one look at her face, swallowed down whatever it was they wanted to tell her, and trailed silently after her to the next class.

News of Nora standing up to Snape didn't take long to spread around. Gossip was a lot like wildfire at Hogwarts. By the time she walked into the Great Hall, everyone seemed to know already. Most of her fellow Ravenclaws weren't exactly pleased that Nora's cheek had cost their house twenty-five points, although a few seemed to find it funny. Julia, of course, was beyond herself. She sat with them at their table and spent the whole meal going off about how sorry she was to have missed such a pivotal moment. Even Tristan and his friends stopped by to tell Nora it was a very Gryffindor thing to do.

Professor Flitwick unfortunately didn't find it quite as impressive and he made a firm point of scolding her. But, overall, Nora's mood had improved considerably from all the positive feedback from her peers. She wasn't even angry anymore as she reported for detention in the dungeons.

That was until she walked in and saw two huge piles of dirty cauldrons sitting in a corner. There were about fifty of them!

"Well?" Snape bared his teeth mordaciously when he saw her freeze at the edge of the room. "What're you standing there for? Get on with it! I have better things to do than waste my entire night watching you clean cauldrons."

"You're welcome to leave," Nora said, taking her cloak off and rolling her sleeves. "I'm perfectly capable of working on my own. I don't require supervision."

Snape raised his eyebrows. "My, my... Aren't you a little spitfire today. I'm afraid you're sadly mistaken, Miss Cavanaugh, if you think sleeping around with your professors gives you the leeway to act like an insubordinate brat."

Her jaw dropped. Did he just... Had he really... Nora couldn't even formulate a coherent thought. She had no idea whether she was more horrified at the implication or furious that Snape had had the gall to make it.

"Run out of clever arguments, did you? No point denying the truth, I suppose. Perhaps I should have a chat with the Headmaster, I imagine he would want to know a teacher's taking advantage of one of his students—"

"You can't!" Nora cut in desperately, finally having found her voice. "None of that's true! Professor Lupin would never take advantage of his students! And you know it, you know he wouldn't! You're only making up lies to get him fired because you envy him!"

The scraping of the chair against the floor as Snape hurled to his feet made her recoil.

"Envy him?" he spat venomously. "Why would I envy a meager, pathetic, cowardly man? You're more foolish than I thought, girl. You have no idea who your beloved Professor truly is. Trust me, if you did you'd be running fast for your life."

Every drop of boldness seemed to have deserted Nora's body. She shrunk further away from him, shaking as her mind filled with flashes of her father moving with the same abruptness to grab her harshly by the hair and force her to her knees.

Snape narrowed his dark, spiteful eyes down at her. There were rumors he could read minds, although no one knew for sure. She dropped her gaze to the floor, terrified he would read hers, ashamed of what he might see if he did.

His scrutiny lasted an uncomfortable amount of time. Finally, he made a scoffing noise and shoed her away. "Get on with it, Cavanaugh. Like I said, I've better things to do. Oh, and you'll be serving detention next week again. Perhaps that'll teach you some common sense."

Head bowed, Nora grabbed the first cauldron, hefted it onto the closest desk and began to scrub.

Menial labour was a little like therapy, she decided, half an hour into it. It wasn't too strenuous and gave her plenty of time with her own thoughts, which was probably why she didn't immediately recognise the familiar smell coming from her second cauldron. She halted suddenly, sticking her head inside to get a better whiff before straightening up with a frown. Why on earth was she cleaning up Wolfsbane? They'd learned it first thing that year and moved on to Veritaserum next. It wasn't part of the curriculum for younger students either. Not to mention it was an incredibly difficult potion to brew and the ingredients were outrageously expensive. Why else Snape would have brewed a cauldronful of Wolfsbane if not for class?

Nora thought about asking him, but the words died in her throat when she saw that he was watching her like a hawk, almost like he was waiting for her to come to some sort of realisation. Feeling self-conscious, she went back to scrubbing in silence.

Saturday arrived with the culmination of bad weather. It was a dark and gloomy morning, with pitch black skies, violent gale and loud roaring thunder.

Tristan roused with a white flash on his window. Sitting up and rubbing his sleepy eyes, he saw that Harry was missing from the bed next to his. A few minutes later, he was throwing on a coat and his favourite red and golden scarf on the way downstairs to the common room, where he found his friend sitting on the couch staring off into space.

He flopped down on the couch next to him. "What're you doing up this early?"

"Peeves woke me up," Harry explained, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. "Couldn't go back to sleep afterwards. I'm too nervous about the game."

"Don't be." Tristan gave his shoulder a friendly punch. "You're playing Hufflepuff, it'll be a breeze for you guys."

Harry didn't look so convinced. "Wood's really worried about their new Seeker."

"He's that big bloke, right? Digby or something."

"Diggory," Harry corrected. "He's big for a Seeker, but it's gonna work for him in this weather. Jules was saying he picked out really strong Chasers this year too. Might've been best if we played Slytherin, at least we were more prepared."

Personally Tristan also thought it would've been best if they played Slytherin.

He listened to Harry's concerns, did his best to ease his nerves, and when people started coming down they headed out through the portrait hole to get some breakfast.

The Fat Lady had been temporarily replaced by the portrait of Sir Cadogan, who was a bit of an odd character. He spent half the time challenging people to duels, even Gryffindors, and he had the unfortunate habit of changing passwords at least twice a day, always to ridiculously complicated words.

"Stand up and fight, you mangy curs!" Sir Cadogan shouted loudly and dramatically after them.

"Oh give it a rest, will you," Tristan snapped back, glaring at the obnoxious portrait from over his shoulder. "What the hell was Dumbledore thinking putting that idiot in charge?"

Harry covered his mouth for a big yawn. "Who knows, but I never thought I'd miss the Fat Lady so much."

The Great Hall was practically empty. Harry and Tristan sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves when the food magically appeared.

"Did you get around to asking Nora about Lupin? Why's he missing?" Harry asked curiously.

Tristan swallowed a mouthful of porridge. "She doesn't know. Sounded like they weren't on very friendly terms."

"That's a shame." Harry grabbed some toast and reached for the jam a little further down the table. "Oh hey, speaking of friendly, what happened with Dearborn? Did they break up or something?"

"I don't think they were ever together," Tristan mumbled while staring firmly at his bowl. No way he was going to discus his sister's love life, or lack thereof, with his best friend. He wasn't entirely sure why Caito had suddenly split from Nora's group anyway. All he had were a few suspicions.

Harry bit into his toast, humming skeptically.

"Anyhow—" Tristan quickly changed the subject, "I might drop by Lupin's office after the game. He's our best teacher yet, I reckon someone should check if he didn't get poisoned by Snape. You don't think he'd mind, do you?"

"Probably not. He's sort of cool, isn't he?"

"He's downright awesome if you ask me."

The rest of the Quidditch team turned up by the time Harry and Tristan were almost done eating breakfast. Julia sat next to Harry, her long hair tightly woven into two French braids that swayed every time she moved.

"You're looking a bit peaky, love. Not nervous, are you? We're counting on you."

"He's not the only one," said Wood, whose cheeks had gained a faint green tint at the sight of food. "It's going to be a tough one."

Alicia Spinnet tried to ease his nerves. "Stop worrying, Oliver. We don't mind a bit of rain."

"Oi—" Julia snapped her fingers in front of Tristan to get his attention and he looked at her with a crabby scowl. "Your sister and the twins made banners for you kids. I better see them on the stands."

"I'm not a kid," Tristan snapped.

"That'll sound more convincing when you start shaving."

"I swear, Jules, one of these days…"

All attitude and ass, Julia grinned toothily and polished off the rest of her toast.

Not long after Ron and Hermione came down for breakfast, Harry and the team left for the locker rooms to go over strategy one last time before the match. Tristan waited for his two friends to eat something, then the three of them were out too.

It was raining considerably harder than earlier. Luckily, Hermione had remembered to bring along an umbrella. They squeezed under it and took off in a bit of a sprint across the lawn, clinging tightly to the shaft so the furious wind wouldn't whip it out of their hands.

Despite the weather, the Quidditch stands were fully packed and they had to push and shove their way through the crowd to find an empty spot on the bench next to the Crowley twins.

"Where's Nora?" Tristan asked as Liam handed him the other end of a wide banner with a massive roaring lion drawn on it.

"Someone stole Lovegood's shoes again!" Liam had to shout over the wind. "Nora stayed behind to help her look for them!"

Five minutes into the game, it became clear it was very nearly impossible for players to spot any of the banners or flags from the field to the stands. In fact, they could barely see each other through the rain. Tristan thought he saw Harry almost fly into one of his teammates when there was a white flash of thunder, but it was raining too heavily to tell for certain.

Somehow they managed to hear Madame Hooch blow her whistle when Wood called for a timeout. All players flew back down to the field, looking deeply relieved over the short intermission.

Nora arrived while the teams were convening. Glued to her side was a short girl with the hugest eyes Tristan had ever seen. She had pale hair, sopping wet, plastered to her face. Her equally drenched clothes were bright-coloured, making her easy to spot even under the gloomy weather. On top of her head was an oddly shaped beanie with embroidered flowers.

"Sorry I'm late!" Nora gently nudged the bug-eyed girl over so she was standing next to Tristan. "This is Luna, she's a second year. Be nice to her."

Tristan studied Luna with interest. There was an aura of distinct dottiness about her, which was unusual because Ravenclaws were generally very serious and down to earth. He vaguely remembered seeing her around the castle, although he'd never actually spoken to her. She struck him as a bit odd, always reading her quirky magazines, always wearing her obnoxiously colourful clothes.

"Managed to find your shoes, did you?"

"Almost," Luna replied in a dreamy voice. "I'm still missing a pair. I think Nargles stole it, they're always hiding my things."

"Sneaky buggers," Tristan joked good-naturedly.

Luna tilted her head to study him. Her eyes really were enormous, he thought, like an owl's. He sort of wished it wasn't so dark and he could see what colour they were. Certainly not brown or blue, those were far too ordinary for a unique girl like her.

"You're funny."

He flashed a roguish grin, "I certainly like to think so."

"Bet you do," she said with a hint of amusement. Warmth rushed to his cheeks, even with the cold wind nipping at his face.

"What's Hermione doing down there?" Tristan heard Nora ask as she bent over the bannister.

"Harry kept almost crashing into other players, she thought it might be because of his glasses so she went to fix it," he explained.

"That clever, clever girl."

Tristan agreed. He might poke fun at her for being an insufferable know-it-all, but Hermione was without a doubt the most brilliant witch in their year, quite possibly the whole school.

Thunder continued to roar in the sky as the game dragged on. Hufflepuff was winning by fifty points, and still no sign of the Snitch. Harry was flying laps around the field, higher, lower, canvassing the area for even the slightest speck of gold.

Suddenly there it was — between he and Cedric Diggory. He hurled upwards full steam.

In the stands, the whole of Gryffindor cheered him on with wild fervour. Tristan leaned over the bannister, shouting Harry's name, heart hammering inside his chest, bursting with excitement, when—

"OUCH!"

Liam had knocked him over the head and nearly sent Luna flying off the banister as he bolted past them.

He went after Liam, ready to give him a piece of his mind, but the words died in his throat when he realised something was wrong with Nora and Liam had reached her just in time before her legs gave under.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Tristan demanded worriedly.

Nora had gone completely ashen, eyes wide with terror. Trembling so hard he feared she might crumble from the sheer force of it, she lifted a shaky finger to the sky. He didn't need to look to know what she was pointing at. He could already feel it, a familiar cold sickness wrapping itself around his heart.

Dementors. At least a hundred of them had gathered above their heads around the field.

"Nora, snap out of it!" Liam shook her in an attempt to pull her out of what Tristan immediately recognised as the beginning of a panic attack. She was breathing faster and more frantically, clutching at her chest while trying to shove Liam off her.

Tristan floundered past Luna with a half-felt apology.

"Let her go!"

"I'm trying to help!"

"You're doing worse! She needs room to breathe!"

After Liam resentfully stepped aside, Tristan guided Nora to the bench behind them and crouched in front of her, taking her icy cold hands gently in his own.

"In and out, remember?" he told her. "Do it with me, in and out..."

People in the stands around them were screaming and crying, but all of Tristan's focus stayed with his sister while she sucked deep quivering breaths through her nose and expelled the air through her mouth several times. He did, however, notice Luna taking a seat next to Nora, rubbing soothing circles on her back, and he felt an unexpected surge of affection toward this strange girl.

It took a few minutes for Nora to finally calm down.

She smiled tiredly, "Thanks, Tris."

"Anytime," he smiled back.

Relief was short-lived. Nora hadn't been the only one struggling with the arrival of the dementors; Harry had lost his senses and fallen off his broom. Luckily, Dumbledore was able to slow down his fall before chasing away the vicious soul-sucking monsters off campus.

Once Nora was good enough to walk, their small party clambered down the stands and set course to the castle so they could check on Harry, who had been taken to hospital wing in the meantime. Harry's teammates had the same idea, and soon enough they were all crowded around his cot while Madam Pomfrey complained about too many people in the room as she fussed over a still unconscious Harry.

Sensing Hermione's apprehension, Tristan drew her into a one-armed hug. Her wet and cold form shivered against him. She was sickly pale, her eyes red.

"He's going to be all right, isn't he?"

"Of course! Harry's tough, he can pull through anything." Tristan rubbed Hermione's arm up and down when her shivering worsened and her teeth started chattering. "You should head back and change out of these wet clothes. Ron and I can stay here. Right, Ron?"

"Right," Ron drawled with an annoyed look toward Tristan, who responded in kind even though he couldn't fathom what he'd done to annoy his ginger-haired friend this time.

Hermione shook her head, "No, that's alright. I'll stay here and wait. I wouldn't be able to stop worrying anyway."

The hospital wing filled with quiet murmuring while they waited for Harry to come to.

Covered head to toe in mud, the Quidditch team was quietly discussing the outcome of the match. They had lost to Hufflepuff when Diggory caught the Snitch right before Harry's fall. Wood was devastated. He had stayed behind in the changing rooms to drown his sorrows. The Weasley twins were under the impression he might also be trying to drown himself in the process. Even though they meant that as a joke, Julia decided to go back and check on him just in case.

By the window, Liam was comforting Nora much like Tristan was doing to Hermione. Tristan felt a little bad for having lost his temper with Liam back on the stands. He knew Liam meant a great deal to his sister, and it was clear he was only trying to help, but crowding and shaking someone on the verge of a panic attack was a sure way to accelerate the process.

Quick movement in the doorway suddenly caught his attention. He thought he saw a glimpse of white before it vanished.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked when he disentangled himself from her.

"I'm just gonna check something. I'll be right back."

Outside the hospital wing, Tristan spotted Luna heading down the corridor. He called her and she whirled on her heels, drenched hair swishing around her shoulders like a mantle of snow. Now that there was more light, he could tell she was wearing a girly pink coat and bright yellow rain boots. The two colours clashed horridly, yet at the same time somehow also suited her to perfection.

Tristan walked up to her, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. "Leaving already?"

"I wouldn't want to intrude," Luna said in her dreamy voice. "Nora was kind enough to invite me along, but I think I should head back to my common room now the game's over."

"You don't have to," he argued quickly, only to rub the back of his neck with a blush. "I mean, we're only waiting for Harry to wake up, there's not much to intrude on..."

She blinked her owlish eyes, studying him in a way that made him want to squirm. Silver, Tristan realised; her eyes were silver. Not a hint of blue or green, only a shimmer of grey, like the sky right before a storm.

"You must be worried."

He shrugged, "Yeah, I guess."

Luna nodded understandingly.

The awkward silence made Tristan jittery and uncomfortable. He brought his hands out of his pockets again, combed his fingers through his messy locks, wondering why on earth it was so difficult to keep up a conversation with this strange girl when he never had trouble with girls before.

"I'm a bit envious of how close you and Nora are," Luna said at last. She had taken off her ugly beanie, was hugging it to her chest. "I've always wanted a sibling."

He smiled a little. "She does get on my nerves sometimes, though I suppose I get on hers too. Nora and I have always looked out for each other, we're all we got."

"I understand. Dad and I are the same." Luna smiled too, and he thought she looked awfully pretty when she smiled.

There was a sudden strange fluttering in his stomach. Tristan brought a hand to it. Could have been something he ate earlier? Or maybe he was just hungry again. Whatever the case, it was an odd feeling.

Luna tilted her chin toward the door behind him, "You should get back to your friends."

When she started to leave, he scrambled his brain furiously for an excuse, any excuse, to see her again.

"Your magazine!" he blurted out quickly. She halted, raisinf an eyebrow at him. Tristan cringed at his own clumsiness. Of all the things he could have come up with... "T-That magazine you're always reading," he continued. He had to, no choice but to commit now. "Looks interesting. You could, I dunno... show it to me some time?"

Luna flashed another dimpled smile. There it was again — that weird fluttering in his stomach.

"Sure, Cavanaugh," she said, walking backwards. "You know where to find me."

"Call me Tristan!" he called after her.

"See you around, Tristan!"

You can count on it, he thought with a grin.

Be honest, guys, who here guessed Luna would catch Tristan's eye?

I had a really fun time writing this chapter. It's always so interesting to write from Tristan's point of view.