I do not own Harry Potter, the Wizarding World, or any canon characters.
There's an epidemic at Hogwarts. A new one of Luna's creatures bashes people on the heads, turning them into evil caricatures of themselves
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Hermione! What is the matter with you?!"
Hermione Granger laughed. "Nothing is wrong with me, what is the matter with you? Rhetorical question, I know what's wrong with you. You're weak. You're the Boy-Who-Lived! You could use that you know, do some actual good for once, if you had the bravery for it. Instead you use it like a shield to run away and hide, what a waste."
Harry Potter stared at her. "You-you don't mean that," he said weakly. The logical part of his mind screamed at him that this wasn't his best friend. Something had happened to her, a spell or a potion, to make her act like this. Yet the voice of logic drowned beneath the pain that grew from his heart. "You don't mean that, do you?"
"What's the matter, unused to hearing how your 'friend' really thinks of you? Pathetic. All you non-Muggleborns are utterly pathetic. You don't have an ounce of logic in you and you don't have the actual drive to really use your talents to their fullest-"
Her head flew forward and her body followed, stumbling towards Harry who caught her on reflex. Harry gasped, catching her and staring at the person who had just struck Hermione on the back of the head. "Luna! What the hell?!"
Luna Lovegood blinked behind multicolored goggles, holding a comically large paper fan. "Oh, hello Harry," she said, her voice sing-songy. "Good catch."
"Why did you hit Hermione?!"
"She was infected by a bitterfly."
"A what fly?"
"A bitterfly. They fly around and latch onto people's heads and turn them into evil versions of themselves. Not regular evil, but more of a comically strange evil. See?" She opened the paper fan and Harry saw the splattered fly that was stuck within. It was large, long wings that were bright neon green mixed with pink.
"That's really gross and weird. Is that a special fan to stop them?"
Luna nodded. "It's a fan fix-on. If you hit the bitterfly hard enough, you squash it and the person should return back to normal."
Hermione groaned, rubbing the back of her head. "Oh, my head. What in the-Harry!" She burst into tears and hugged him. "I'm so sorry! I couldn't help myself! I don't know why I was saying such terrible things. It was as if thousands of people were filling my ears with dark thoughts and I had to go along!"
He hugged her, patting her back. "It's alright Hermione. Luna sorted you out. We'll get things fixed."
Luna handed them their own goggles. "You can see the bitterflies with these. When we see them, we hit the person in the head with the fan."
Harry made the goggles go over his glasses. "How many do you think are there?"
Luna shrugged. "How should I know?"
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Ron groaned, sitting up. "Why does my head hurt so much? And my stomach?"
"You ate about a whole chicken, three plates of chips, and drank a gravy boat," Harry said. "You also said something about how much I owed you for being famous."
Ron looked aghast. "Bloody hell! Why did I say that? And why would I eat that much?!"
"Same reason poor Ginny was shrieking about being Harry's only love and throwing a love potion about," Hermione said as she helped her friend drink a goblet of water. "Bitterflies. Nasty little things."
Ron watched Luna hit Susan over the head. The Hufflepuff shook her head drunkenly before going bright red, hurriedly doing up the buttons on her blouse. "Thank goodness for Luna yeah?"
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"Maybe we should leave him like this," Harry said.
"Harry!" Hermione chided. She turned thoughtful. "Though, you must admit, it is a nice change."
They and Luna watched as Snape redecorated his once grim dungeon in bright colors, humming a sprightly tune. The cauldrons in the room emanated shining colors and sweet smells.
"We can save him for last," Luna said.
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Dumbledore sat up, rubbing his forehead and the back of his head. "What in the world?" he murmured. He looked down at his desk and his eyes widened as he read the notes scribbled on parchment. "For the Greater Good?! Operation Cripple Harry?! Operation Steal from Harry?!"
He looked at a very amused looking Fawkes. "Fawkes? Do you know the meaning of this?!"
The phoenix shook his head, giggling in a musical way.
-0-
"I think that's it," Harry said gratefully. "We don't see any signs of bitterflies."
Luna nodded. "I think we got them all." She shook the fan. "And now there is irrefutable proof for everyone to see. Finally, people will take me seriously. Hey!" She glared at Harry when he plucked the fan from her hands. Her anger turned into confusion when he bopped her gently on the head with it. "Ow! Oh."
"Now we got them all," Harry said as inspected the fan.
Luna looked sheepish. "How did you know?"
"I had my suspicions. You usually don't resort to physical fixes first but what you said at the end cemented it. How're you feeling?"
"My head hurts. I don't like feeling evil."
He hugged her. "Your evil is so less compared to others. Want to check me?" He offered the fan.
She pulled his head down and inspected it carefully. "You're fine. If you were evil you would have done terrible things already."
He smiled. "Glad I have your confidence. How does pudding sound for a job well done?"
Her smile was dazzling. "Yes please."