Chapter 3

Three months later saw Harry unavoidably back at school. His nonappearance at the Sorting Feast caused all sorts of rumors that led to Dumbledore putting the entire Order on his trail, and while Harry was good he wasn’t that good. Serion still chortled at the memory when Harry got nicked by Sirius, the sly dog, just as he thought he’d escaped from the Order’s clutches.

Now back at the skullduggery of the school and its daily routine, Harry had no time to find the other horcrux. The one Riddle had inadvertently slipped when he’d spoken of Harry’s memories. The original order of horcrux destruction had been the diary then Salazar’s ring, not the diary then Helga’s cup. Was the cup the third one to have been destroyed? Is that why it only knew of two? Or perhaps it had been last destroyed and only received memories of the first two fights.

Harry knew the next encounters were going to be more exhausting and mind bending. It was good to know that the walking Voldemort had no memories of his past… or future… but it would make fighting the broken pieces of soul that much harder. They would be playing with him and using their knowledge against him. Harry could not expect all battles to end so easily. Certainly one horcrux or another would know exactly how Harry had defeated it. Harry would be in trouble then because the horcrux would do everything in its power to stop him.

Training, growing up, doing homework and dealing with déjà vu would all have to have their time and place. Luckily or perhaps unluckily, Dumbledore insisted on training Harry. His progress could not be checked or hidden from those sharp beady eyes. So Harry did not try to mislead Dumbledore in his skills. Tonight was just another lesson in learning how to take pain. Harry came away from Dumbledore’s office in considerable discomfort. Nothing serious enough to require Madam Pomfrey’s personal care, this made Harry grateful.

Walking down the castle corridors, Harry nodded absently to some of the older students still out and about who waved to him. The enchantment, which Harry broke early that summer having faded, exposed him to the scrutiny of everyone. Before he was the invisible forgotten twin of the famous Boy Who Lived, now he was heralded the Chosen One.

Girls giggled behind their hands at him, teachers called him to the front to explain or perform magic for the rest of the class, and boys from his year were trying to claim the open spot for his best friend. Fifteen, Harry concluded was a difficult age to be and he didn’t quite know how to handle the sudden attention he received. The only person who hadn’t changed was Snape, much to Harry’s relief. Snape could be counted on to be snide, petty, and infinitely uninterested in Harry’s new status, something he delighted informing Harry of time and again in classes.

He came to the major staircases and started to climb wearily, feeling every ache and pain with each step. At the landing Harry saw a couple of boys from his year teasing a girl from his house. They were pulling at her hair, summoning her things, and levitating her in the air. Incensed, Harry whipped out his wand and slashed it forcefully. The boys flipped upside down, their yelps of terror caused Harry to smile, his eyes lighting with a feral gleam.

“Hey! Let us down!”

“What is this?” he asked silkily summoning their wands.

The girl was released abruptly from their spells and Harry shot out a hand to save her. Her body slowed until gently her toes lighted on the ground. The boys were clamoring loudly, upset and scared now the tables were turned, but Harry had eyes only for the slight blond girl.

“Are you all right?” he asked, as her things fell around them causing a racket.

She nodded mutely, her blue eyes wide and serene. Harry scowled and pointed at her again releasing her from the boys’ spell, this time a silencer. The girl smiled beatifically. “Thank you.”

Harry turned back on the boys furious again. “You silenced her? You cowardly maggots! I should k--”

“They were only playing,” the girl inserted quickly, stepping forward.

Harry glowered, whipping his head back to the boys. “The girl says you were only playing, but we all know better don’t we?”

“Honest it was just for fun!”

“We weren’t going to hurt her!”

“No,” Harry answered, “You were going to torture her because she weaker and unable to fight back.”

“It’s all right, Harry,” the girl said softly, pulling a strand of blond hair behind her ear, revealing a tiny spoon earring. “Let them down.”

Harry did so begrudgingly. The boys fell down hard, their rumps smacking the stone walkway. Harry tossed them their wands and the boys scrambled after them. When they held them, both seemed to draw courage. One even raised his wand threateningly, but Harry merely raised an eyebrow and pointed a finger at them. They laughed at him until they realized their voices were gone.

Fear replaced their cruel mirth and Harry snarled, “Go back to your houses. If you’re lucky you won’t run into anyone who will take advantage of your silence.”

They ran down the hall and just before they rounded the corner, Harry hit them with a tripping jinx watching them sprawl forward face first. He snorted, watching them scramble away. When they were gone he turned back to the girl and stooped down to help her pick up her things.

“Does that usually happen?” he asked, jerking his chin in the direction where the Hufflepuff boys had disappeared.

“Sometimes,” she hummed quietly. “Sometimes it’s Slytherins or Gryffindors.”

Harry stared at her incredulously. “Hufflepuffs, Slytherins, and Gryffindors?”

She nodded. “Ravenclaw girls too.”

“You’re picked on by everybody?”

“They don’t mean anything by it. My mother used to say that--”

“Nobody stands up for you?”

The girl frowned at him. “You did.”

“Besides me,” Harry huffed impatiently.

“Professors--”

“Don’t you have any friends?” Harry demanded.

She shook her head, and plucked from his fingers one of her school books. “I’m odd.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Everything,” she answered. “I’m Loony Lovegood to them, but that’s just because they don’t understand.”

“Loony?” he murmured, and then recognition dawned. “Luna. You’re Luna.”

Luna smiled happily. “That’s right.”

Harry frowned and waved his hand irritably, gathering up all the rest of her things and putting them into her bag. Luna zipped it up and slung it over her shoulder. “Thanks again.”

“You need to watch your back Luna,” Harry warned her.

He stood and motioned her to the stairwell as one of the staircases moved toward them. When it stopped, Luna hopped up the first stair and continued lightly. Harry followed slowly, frowning in thought all the while.

“Luna.”

“Yes, Harry?” she called over her shoulder.

“Isn’t there anybody that you talk to?”

“Oh, I talk to people all the time. They never understand me though. It’s the bliffsowers at work unfortunately. They confuse everyone.”

“Bliffsowers?”

“Oh yes, they’re the ones that first came forward about their part in the Demented Conspiracy Minister Fudge has been perpetuating all year. He hired them to confuse the masses about all his failings. Unfortunately it’s only helped Lord Flight From Death gain power.”

“Voldemort?” Harry questioned.

“That’s the one,” she said, skipping to the next stairwell as it slid their way.

Harry scratched his head in confusion. He’d never heard of bliffsowers or the Demented Conspiracy. Something was strange about her recital. Gently, he asked, “Did you hit your head when the boys were tormenting you?”

“Of course not or we’d be heading toward the hospital.”

Harry tried another tactful approach. “Did one of the boys tell you about Demented Conspiracy?”

Luna looked back startled, and then she laughed. “Oh no, no, Mr. Rodeny Neworth cracked the scandal. You can read all about it in my daddy’s newspaper, the Quibbler.”

That explained everything, Harry thought, determined not to wound her with his opinions on the rag. His attitude towards the Quibbler echoed that of the majority of the wizarding world as being complete filth. More rot was published on one page of the Quibbler than in the entirety of the Daily Prophet. That said something. Nobody took the Quibbler seriously. It was more fiction than fact. People contributed it as a lark, hiding their identities behind ridiculous names. He should know as Daniel and his friends had once sent their divinations homework in as true prophecy.

“Do you read my daddy’s paper?” Luna asked brightly as they climbed the last staircase.

“Er… no, sorry.”

“Oh,” she said, her cheerful expression drooping.

“No money,” Harry found himself offering with a shrug.

Luna perked up. “Oh!” She stared at him for a moment full of concern before saying lightly, “I’ll ask daddy to put a subscription in your name. Everybody should have access to the truth.”

Harry held back a snort of laughter and managed to respond without a betraying flicker of horror. “Thank you, Luna.”

“You’re welcome, Harry,” she replied, smiling shyly before saying the password to the librarian portrait and slipped into the common room.

Harry shook his head bemusedly and followed. Several people called out to him as he entered. Stephen Cornfoot especially pandering begged his attention on some Quidditch maneuvers for their team. Cho Chang glared at him from across the room. Her demotion to second string made her resentful of Harry. With a sigh Harry joined the cluster of Ravenclaw Quidditch players and sat down. His eyes drifted across the common finding Luna talking to Hermione animatedly about something. Hermione had a peculiarly pained expression on her face as she listened to the younger girl. Harry chortled to himself and focused on the moving diagrams before him.

End Chapter 3.