Chapter Text
Harry Potter was almost certain that he was going to prison— to Alcatraz, or whatever the hell lunatic ticket taker had said when Harry got on the purple triple decker bus of death.
There was quite a lot that he didn’t understand about wizarding laws, but he was fairly certain that inflating his cousin’s aunt and allowing her to float into the morning sun violated at least one of them. It was only a matter of time before aurors— as he’d just learned wizard cops were called— surrounded him and carted him off. Still, he was cold, damp, and exhausted by the burst of magical energy he had experienced. One last sleep in a warm bed with a full belly would be his own personal send off.
Ron was out of the country and he assumed Hermione was too since Hedwig still hadn’t returned from delivering the last letter he sent her. This was one more thing that Harry would have to do for himself. It was oddly similar to his private midnight birthday celebrations, a lonely goodbye to his freedom, and he took comfort in that.
When he arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry went up to the bar to request a room. Once he had a lie down, he would go for a butter beer and a meal.
Tom, the barkeep, glanced up at a witch (who Harry would only later learn was named Amelia Bones and worked in the Department of Magical Permits and Licenses) and Tom sighed. “I can’t rent you a room, Mister Potter.”
“What?” He asked with confusion. Harry was certain that he had heard about plenty of his fellow muggle-raised students staying at The Leaky Cauldron in the day prior to boarding the Hogwarts express. Sure, a few of them may have been upper years over the age of seventeen, but not all of them.
Something about the look in Tom’s eye made Harry very hesitant to voice his, very reasonable, protests. “I understand, Sir. Do you know anywhere else I should be looking? Going home isn’t exactly an option at the moment.”
Tom glanced at Harry’s right hand and nodded with understanding. Of what, Harry had no idea. He simply hoped to help him find a place to stay before he was inevitably arrested.
“No, I can't imagine it would be.” Tom agreed. “There’s no inn that’s gonna rent you your own room. They’d risk their inn keeper’s permit.”
Amelia Bones finished the last drop of her pint. “Too right, Tom.” She said and he fetched her another. The witch looked as though she had had a very long day.
Harry deflated. “That makes sense. Thanks anyways.” He lifted the handle of his trunk once more, intending to wheel it with him back into muggle London.
“I’d have to put you in the hostel dorm for unaccompanied minors.” Tom told him, causing Harry to pause. “Ain’t all that bad. A bit more crowded than the dorms at Hogwarts when it’s full but serviceable for your needs since I can’t imagine you’ll spend too much time inside anyway given it’s the summer. Only one other kid staying in there at the moment. Odd little thing, but she’s harmless. A year younger than you but sweet as can be.”
Sharing a room for a night or two before spending the rest of his life in prison for murder was less than ideal, but was still better than being arrested while sleeping behind a skip.
“Sounds great, Sir. I’ll take it.” Harry told him, not letting down the handle of his trunk in anticipation of relocating his belongings so they weren’t blocking the wizarding equivalent of Kings Cross. “I’ll need to run to Gringotts for some money, if there’s a place to put my trunk until then?”
Again, Amelia Bones glanced sharply at Tom who grumbled a bit before answering Harry. “That won’t be necessary, Mister Potter. Inn’s have a deal with the Ministry. Summer room and board for unaccompanieds is twenty galleons flat billed to your magical guardian come the end of summer.”
“But, sir, I don’t have a magical guardian.” Harry protested, a bit surprised that Tom didn’t realize that since Harry was famously an orphan.
Tom grabbed a key off the hook behind the bar and rounded it slowly, walking Harry toward the first of many flights of steps up to the fourth floor. “Everyone’s got a magical guardian and trust when I say that yours can more than afford it. Like I was saying, the twenty galleons includes three squares per day as long as you come ask for them. No one’s gonna chase you down to feed you. Milk, water, and pumpkin pulp packets at the bar whenever you'd like but butterbeer’s extra. Housekeeping’ll drop off clean sheets and towels every few days but it’s on you to change them out yourself. Hostel rooms are inspected for cleanliness weekly so keep it swept and neat on your side. Air out the place with an open window as often as weather permits. Any other questions you’ve got, you know where to find me.” Tom said and put the key in Harry’s hand after knocking thrice on a crookedly hung door.
“Miss Lovegood, you in?” He called through what looked to be a thick slab of oak, hence the failing hinges.
“Yes Mister Tom the Barkeep.” A light and soft voice called out. “I’ll be going out with my lunch soon.”
“I know, Miss Lovegood. I do own a calendar and a clock.” Tom said, chuckling fondly. “I’ve got a bit of company for you. Another student staying for the rest of the summer. Mind opening up?”
“Coming!”
It only took a second before a lock was undone and the door was opened, revealing a nearly white haired girl with pale skin and eyes the color of threadbare denim. She smiled at him. “It was about time you arrived, Harry Potter. I’ve had to spend the last three weeks keeping nargles from nesting in your bed. It’s pupping season, you know.”
The scolding was playful and sweet, though Harry assumed the most scathing of insults would be sweet in a voice like that. “Oh, umm, sorry.”
“If you’re feeling strange at all, it’s probably all the wrackspurts stirring up in your head right now.” She said, a curiosity shining through.
Tom gave Harry an amused look. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, Miss Lovegood. I’ll have a pair of sandwiches with crisps waiting for you in ten.” he said before leaving them there in the hallway.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Harry said to the girl, who was wearing shimmery summer robes that reminded him of sunshine on the water. “Your first name, I mean.”
“I’m Luna and you’re Harry Potter.” Miss Lovegood told him. “Just in case you’ve forgotten. We all need someone to remind us who we are every now and again.”
Harry nodded, only understanding a small amount of what she said. “Right… may I come in, Luna?”
She nodded back, giving him a friendly smile that scrunched up the skin around her eyes. “Of course, Harry Potter. This is your room too.”
Luna stepped aside for Harry to drag his belongings through the door. “You should take the top bunk on the other side of the window.”
“Oh, yeah, alright. That’s fine.” Harry agreed.
Luna watched him get settled while she put on earrings that looked a lot like acorns painted metallic gold. “What brings you to London, Harry Potter?”
“I accidentally blew up my cousin’s aunt.” He admitted because there was no point in hiding it. It was bound to be on the cover of The Daily Prophet by morning.
“I see.” Luna said, absently nodding as she tinkered with a terrarium of what Harry would later learn were carnivorous plants. She used a very long pair of tweezers to pick tiny grubs from a paper cup with a plastic lid and put them in all manner of flowers and mock leaves, many of which clamped down around their wriggling meals. “It happens to the best of us, Harry Potter. There’s no need to let it ruin this beautiful day.”
“What?” Harry asked, almost having forgotten what they were talking about.
Luna smiled at him. “I said it’s a beautiful day. I’m pleased I’ll get to spend it with you.”
“Oh… right.” He said. “I’m sorry for stealing half your room, Luna. It shouldn't be for too long. I reckon I’ll be taken by the aurors in the next couple of hours.”
Luna hummed. “That’s alright, Harry Potter.” She told him consolingly. “Though I’d much rather you not do anything to get arrested while standing next to me. Have you had lunch or will this be your second?”
Harry shook his head, fortunate his stomach didn’t rumble to ‘assist’ him in making his point. He'd missed breakfast since he’d been the one cooking it when Aunt Marge made her horrible comments, surely condemning Harry to life in a prison cell because she just had to be a massive twat.
“Not yet.” Harry said, putting his trunk at the foot of the bunk beds on his side of the room. It was the far plainer one, other than the heavy sprinkle of white powder on the floor that he couldn’t help but step in. “Sorry.”
“It’s quite alright, Harry Potter.” Luna said. “We’ll get lunch from Mister Tom the Barkeep then take it on a walk. July makes for the very best people watching.”
“That’s fine.” Harry agreed. He certainly didn't mind the idea of a sandwich, crisps, a glass of pumpkin juice, and some fresh air.
“You’re most agreeable, Harry Potter.” The girl said pleasantly. “Don’t worry, I can fix that.”
“Oh? Cool.” Harry told her.
Luna hummed and slid off her slippers, going to the door with bare feet. “I’ll wait in the hall while you dress to go out, hopefully in clothes with a few fewer ghosty-gills in the armpit seams.” She said and left, closing the door behind her.
Looking down at himself, Harry had to admit that the strange girl was probably right. His clothes were not only oversized but more than well worn. He often wore them to work in the garden beds. They were torn and stained, and something about them felt simply wrong in a way that Harry didn’t understand.
Whatever ghosty-gills were, he wasn’t completely surprised that his clothes were infested with them.
At her wise behest, Harry changed into his best summer clothes. They were still two sizes too big but un-stained and with all the holes mended as well as Harry’s basic tailoring spells had allowed before he left Hogwarts the previous year. Over it he wore his uniform robes. Hopefully it would be enough for him to fit in with abnormally light foot traffic. The last thing he needed was an article about The-Boy-Who-Lived wearing clothes more befitting of dust rags than an almost thirteen year old boy.
After changing and fetching his gold, Harry joined a very happily patient looking Luna in the narrow corridor.
“That’s an excellent idea, Harry Potter.” Luna told him. “We have plenty of books to buy and those robes do need alterations. The sleeves are far too short.”
Harry frowned. He hadn’t noticed that himself, what with spending the entirety of the year prior being accused of commanding a basilisk to kill muggleborn students. Had he really gotten that much taller?
“That’s probably a good idea.” Harry admitted. “How are we supposed to get our books before our letters get here? We need the supply list and they don’t arrive ‘til early August most of the time.” He asked as they collected their sack lunches and packet of pumpkin purée that Luna tapped with her wand to reconstitute into juice. “Woah— you’re doing magic outside of school.” He whispered
Luna hummed pleasantly, a sound surprisingly soothing to his soul, and put her lunch sack into his free hand to more easily do even more magic by tapping her wand against the brick wall that led to a not-yet bustling Diagon Alley.
“There’s too much magic going on in the area for the trace to pick up on who actually casts what spells.” Luna explained as they walked through the jagged brick archway. “And I’ve had your letter for three days now.”
She pulled the pair of near matching envelopes from her bag so Harry could take a peek then she stowed them once more. “We should have lunch first. There’s a bench by the apothecary. I like to watch to see what sorts of maladies people are looking to cure.” Luna giggled.
To Harry, that sounded sort of personal, but it wasn’t as if the wizarding world offered him any semblance of privacy. The only time he was lucky enough to be ignored was when he asked for help. His last day of freedom would come with a small amount of near harmless revenge.
“Sounds nice,” He decided and continued following Luna.
Eventually they reached the bench that Luna preferred and unwrapped their sandwiches. Harry wasn’t exactly a picky eater— he couldn’t afford to be with his aunt and uncle. To his surprise, the very wet sandwich was strangely delicious, and Harry knew recipes could make fairly easy conversation.
“What’s in this?” He asked after his third silent bite was swallowed.
“Cucumber, cream cheese, tomato, boiled egg, ham, and spicy mustard.” Luna said, dabbing the coroners of her mouth with a cloth napkin that Tom had included. It looked far too much like a bar rag for Harry’s comfort but he supposed it was better than using his sleeve. “Do you like it?”
“Oh yeah, a lot actually.” Harry said. The list explained the moisture but didn’t manage to put him off. It worked with the crusty roll it was put on. “So, what are nargles?”
Harry hadn’t heard of them, but Harry also hadn’t taken Care of Magical Creatures quite yet. He wasn’t surprised that there wer magical animals he didn’t know about.
Luna’s eyes lit up and she smiled. “Nargles are mischievous little beasts that are prone to causing chaos or enacting intervention. It all depends on if you’ve worked to befriend them. I usually leave them pumpkin bread on Fridays or when I hear more than seven people sneeze in one day.”
“Are lots of people allergic to nargles?” Harry asked.
“Only hungry ones.” Luna explained, not specifying if it was hungry people or hungry nargles that were the determining factor. “Nargles are the reason you sometimes lose single socks in the wash or find things in places you’re quite sure you didn’t leave them.”
Harry nodded, remembering her mention of nesting earlier. Socks probably made perfect materials for a magical rodent to nest with. At least, he assumed they were rodents.
“You’re a second year, right? Where did you learn all this?” It was likely another thing magically raised kids were taught at three or whatever that Harry missed out on by being an orphan.
”Daddy is a researcher of elusive and rare magical creatures.” Luna told him proudly. “He owns a magazine called The Quibbler where he publishes his research. Daddy’s on a summer expedition to photograph the Crumplehorn Snorklack in Sweden. That’s why I’m staying in Diagon Alley. He forgot to pick me up from the train before he left and couldn’t get an international portkey back before late September.”
“He just forgot you?” Harry said more than asked, finding the idea to be absolutely ridiculous. Putting aside the fact that forgetting a girl that wore gold painted acorns for earrings was impossible to even fathom, parents weren’t supposed to forget their own children. Unwanted freakish nephews, sure, but not daughters.
“Daddy’s forgetful, but I know he doesn't mean any harm.” Luna said softly. “Mummy used to tell me that it was alright to marry a forgetter so long as you were a rememberer. Then she died and Daddy didn’t have a rememberer anymore.”
It was a novel idea that made more than a little bit of sense. Mr Weasley worked all the time, from what Ron told him, and he’d likely lose his head if Mrs Weasley didn’t stay on the lookout for it. For a moment, Harry wondered which of his parents had been the forgetter and which had been the rememberer. He had his doubts about ever meeting someone who knew them well enough to answer truthfully.
“I think I can understand that.” Harry said eventually, though he still wasn’t Mr Lovegood’s biggest fan.
Luna smiled, crunching on the first of her crisps which prompted Harry to do the same. They ate mostly in silence, or Harry did at least. Every time someone entered or existed the apothecary with a less than confident and comfortable expression, Luna would tell him various creatures they’d likely encountered to cause all manners of colorful bubbling, bumps, and breakouts.
“Porcu-poodles are the leading cause of boils in most unsavory places.” She said, referring to an embarrassed looking wizard in long orange robes. “He’ll need a special ointment for at least a month.”
Harry appreciated Luna’s joyful willingness to explain things everyone else seemed to take for granted. It was likely to save him a great deal of time and embarrassment should he ever encounter such ailments after a bit of exploration in the magical wilderness, if he ever managed to break out of prison. He made sure to say as much.
“Oh no, Harry Potter.” Luna shook her head. “Most of these creatures are all around us. They’re simply well disguised and quite shy. I try to speak quietly to make them more comfortable.”
That made him even more grateful that he’d met Luna Lovegood. She was probably going to save his life one day.
“We’ll need to get our Care of Magical Creatures textbooks today so we can bond with them before school starts. I plan to name mine Moxie and you should probably name your’s Sylvester.” Luna said when they finished. She vanished their paper bags and wrappers, which Harry thanked her for. “You’re most welcome.”
”Wait,” Harry said when they headed towards Flourish and Blott’s. “Care of Magical Creatures is an elective, right? How are you taking it as a second year?”
”It is.” Luna confirmed. “Professor Flitwick convinced the headmaster to let me start a year early in exchange for me promising to stop wandering into the forbidden forest.”
Harry furrowed his brow. “Oh. Is that something you did a lot of last year?” He hadn’t heard of anyone mentioning a first year regularly going missing at all.
”Yes,” Luna said, turning onto the main road as the apothecary was on a semi-discrete side street. “Don’t feel bad about not noticing. You were a bit busy being accused of being the heir of Slytherin. Can you really talk to snakes? I missed the dueling club because I was feeding the thestrals.”
He smiled slightly sheepishly. “Yeah, I can.”
“What do snakes like to talk about?” Luna asked.
“Mostly prey and how bored they are.” Harry told her, almost certain it was going to be a disheartening answer. The Slytherins that had been bold enough to ask him at the end of last year had quickly lost interest. “They’re also pretty vain, now that I think about it, but they hate mirrors. They just want you to compliment them on how they look.”
Luna smiled. “That’s nice. I’d like to talk to one as well. I wrote down a list of things to ask you to ask a snake last year, in case I found one around the school, but now we can go find a snake ourselves. You’ll have to translate, of course, but it’ll be like a real conversation this way. We can do that after we replace all your clothes.”
“All my clothes? Do they all have ghosty-gills attached to them?” Harry asked her, staring down at his best t-shirt.
Luna looked at him and nodded. “That too.”
Still uncertain as to whether or not he’d been insulted, Harry opened the door for Luna at the bookstore. Even uncle Vernon did that for Aunt Petunia and had done so for Aunt Marge before Harry had turned her into the world’s bitchiest blimp.
They returned to the Leaky Cauldron for supper with all of their books in hand, other than the divination text that Luna kept silently taking out of his shopping basket and putting back on the shelf. He had almost built up the courage to ask why when they’d been given their Care of Magical Creature books which had promptly tried to eat them.
“At first I thought it must have been an animation charm, but then I remembered that there are six different species of butter puffs that can spontaneously reanimate when their skin is used to bind books or is turned into shoes.” Luna told him over buttered rolls and beef stew, both of which being the best thing Harry had ever tasted. “Perfect for hiking boots.”
He nodded thoughtfully while he chewed. “Do we know why the publisher gave it teeth?”
“Decoration.” She supplied and Harry found he couldn’t think of any real reason a publisher wouldn’t have done that.
The magical world was bizarre.
“A good enough reason as any, I reckon.” Harry said and went back to eating his stew in companionable silence. That was something Harry began to appreciate about Luna quite early on. She was comfortable in silence but also almost always up for a chat. Next to the way she shared little facts about the creatures her dad studied, and didn’t sigh or pick at him for any of his questions, that was Harry’s favorite thing about his new dorm mate.
When Harry voiced his concern that he was going to start Care of Magical Creatures too far behind their classmates that grew up in the magical world, Luna gladly loaned him the ten different issues of The Quibbler that she had in her trunk. Reading a few articles every evening before bed, careful not to get any candle soot on the glossy parchment, helped put Harry at ease. Maybe he would still have a lot to catch up on when classes began but he took very detailed notes using a leather bound book that Luna had given him.
“I have too many of this color and I don't want to accidentally take the wrong one to the wrong class.” Luna explained when Harry tried to refuse.
Harry might’ve made less than pleasant associations between that notebook and Tom Riddle’s nasty little diary, if it hadn’t been for the fact that Luna’s spare notebook was a lovely shade of periwinkle.
“I’ve always wondered why the wizarding world uses parchment instead of regular paper.” Harry said on their third evening. They were sitting in their opposite top bunks and levitating a bowl of butterbeer flavored popcorn between them.
Luna hummed. “I asked my mum that question once.”
“Yeah? What’d she say?”
Luna turned the page in her own notebook, brushing the pink fwooper feather of her quill over her cheek as she seemed to do when she was thinking. “Mum told me to be careful not to touch her blood artifacts and always pick out my own potions ingredients.”
“Good advice, I suppose.” Harry said. He would have to try that instead of buying a standard potions kit refill. “Did she say anything about the parchment?”
“Oh yes.” Luna nodded. “She said it’s because Hogwarts is in Scotland and it has so many courtyards we have to pass through to attend classes. When they tried to switch to paper just about the same time as the muggles did, wizards were so used to their books and rolls of parchment being as durable as enchanted animal hides that they would let them get just a little bit wet which would damage them beyond repair. Now, we all get so used to parchment in school that no one really cares to switch to paper even when they move somewhere dry.”
Harry released his furrowed brow. “That makes a lot of sense.”
That launched them into a twenty minute conversation about the thirty years of academic research that had been lost due to paper’s less than durable nature.
“Maybe that’s why the Daily Prophet uses paper. In ten years there's no proof of anything they lied about.” Harry grumbled.
When he turned his head, Luna was smirking.
They went to a muggle park on the fifth day. The weather was too lovely to trap themselves in the magical world’s city center which lacked any sort of usable green space. While Luna sketched the creatures from The Quibbler next to Harry’s notes on each one— she had offered, insisting she could make quick work of it— Harry read his Care of Magical Creatures book, titled The Monster Book of Monsters (named Sylvester, as Luna had suggested). It wasn’t until Luna mentioned it that Harry realized he was frowning at the text.
“Sorry.” Harry said, shaking his head and only half dropping the confused and displeased expression. “I’m just starting to not appreciate the way the book refers to creatures in their natural habitats as monsters. It seems like they only act monstrously when we fuck with them.”
Unlike Hermione would have, Luna didn’t scold him for his language or his criticism of an almighty book. Instead, she slammed her hand down Harry’s closed copy of Intermediate Potions with a nearly wild grin and a gleam in her eye. “Right!”
That was something that Harry was also beginning to enjoy. It wasn’t often that Ron and Hermione both let him be right at the same time. Harry would usually appreciate what they added or corrected, but it still felt nice to just be listed to and agreed with.
That wasn’t to say that Luna didn’t tell Harry when she thought he was wrong. It only meant that he was right often enough not to feel too terribly stupid about things he didn’t know.
They weren’t into Diagon Alley most days to chip away at their supply lists, but Harry's suggestion to get their potions ingredients early in their second week together was swiftly shut down.
“We should wait until the last minute so our ingredients are as fresh as possible and the owner uses up all the low quality ingredients on building her student potions kits.” Luna told him, dragging Harry toward Magical Menagerie for probably the tenth time in as many days. Not that Harry minded. It did make Harry miss Hedwig but he knew that delivering two international letters was going to take a significant length of time, especially when avoiding the hot summer sun.
Eventually, Luna had a chance to rope Harry into facilitating a chat between her and a corn snake. It was a breed whose skins were often used in basic cosmetic potions, and it had been charmed as an egg to safely shed three times as often as its non-magical counterpart.
Harry had been a bit concerned that Luna’s eventual conversation with a snake would fall short of her expectations. Thankfully, that turned out not to be an issue. She raved nearly all night over their discussion of pinkie mice, the beauty of the corn snake’s new scales, and the lack of weather variation in its terrarium. Luna had told it about her carnivorous plants and the snake had shown a modest amount of interest. That was the best a snake tended to offer when the conversation wasn’t about itself.
Harry only got to sleep at three the following morning when Luna had exhausted herself in the fifth retelling of their chat, dropping off mid sentence.
On Tuesdays, they ate breakfast outside, and on Fridays they baked pumpkin bread in Tom’s kitchen. One loaf was left out overnight by the door of their room for the nargles, hoping to gain their favor, and the other was eaten by them and Tom in the evening.
Both loaves were gone by morning.
It was on the thirteenth day post Aunt Marge’s murder when Harry began to realize that either A) the aurors were exceptionally terrible at executing a manhunt— he would one day learn they were, under very different circumstances— or B) Harry wasn’t going to prison. Despite the wee bit of lingering uncertainty, Harry had been distracted by the joyful little world that Luna had carved out and invited him into. They had nearly unlimited time without supervision and nothing more than a bit silly had happened.
It was also on that— potentially (un)— lucky thirteenth day that their lives went from whimsical to delightfully chaotic in the very best of ways.
“You need a bigger trunk, Harry Potter.” Luna told him when he was attempting to squeeze his clean laundry between all of the books, writing supplies, and quidditch gear he had accumulated that summer. “One with expansion charms.”
Harry sighed, giving up on the idea of sitting on the trunk to force it to close. “Aren’t those easily spotted? Hermione says people don’t use them because it shows off that you have extra things worth stealing.”
She nodded, looking at the trunk curiously. “If you empty it onto your bottom bunk and shrink it down, we can take it to a witch closer to the river. She does counterfeit expansion charms. It won’t even look like you replaced it.”
Counterfeit implied it was likely illegal— to own or just to sell, Harry didn’t know. There were a lot of things Harry still didn’t know about wizarding law, but he was in a much better position than he had been in early June. He had figured out that blowing up your aunt appeared to be, if not permitted, tolerated.
“Alright then.” Harry said, beginning to empty it. “Want to get an egg and bacon sandwich on the way out?”
Luna smiled at him, giving him a precious moment that felt like the sun was shining for him alone. “That is an absolutely wonderful idea, Harry Potter.” She told him, readying herself for another beautiful late July day. “I’m almost out of baby powder too.”
”Oh yeah, we need more of that then.” Harry agreed as though it was the most normal thing in the world.
He hadn’t known that nargles were even something he needed to worry about meddling in his life until he met Luna but he realized that he had a lot fewer problems with her precautions in place. “I think I’ll need to get some for Gryffindor tower. For my dorm, at least. None of the boys in my years seem to be taking care of it. Then again, they don’t make sure their socks end up in the hamper, either.”
Luna hummed affirmatively with a tone he now knew was empathetic. Harry had learned what most of her hums meant and all of them were his favorite. “Lack of cleanliness is what attracts nargles much of the time.”
She slipped on her shoes, which Harry had talked her into wearing the second time they ventured outside of the small corner of the city that the magical community had claimed as its own. Talk of stray animal waste carrying disease and broken glass hadn’t entirely convinced her, but in the end Harry told her about all the galleon sized black spots on the sidewalk that used to be chewing gum.
Luna had expressed her disapproval of their public hygiene practices much more kindly than Ron would have. Hermione would have smacked Ron for calling muggle behavior disgusting, comparing what he said with how Draco Malfoy felt about muggles despite Rom being objectively right about littering lumps of your own saliva being disgusting.
But Harry wasn’t between a bickering Ron and Hermione that morning. He was with Luna and she was brilliant.
“I’ll go order and wait for our breakfast while you ready your trunk.” Luna told him, leaving with the canvas bag she carried across her torso and under her opposite arm.
It was unaltered, or so she claimed, but always seemed both weightless and bottomless to Harry. Maybe it was just the magic of being around Luna Lovegood. It made the most ordinary things into something extraordinary in a way that he knew the world absolutely did not deserve.
The more time he spent with Luna, the more sure Harry became that he didn’t deserve Luna Lovegood. But it was summer, there was apparently a mass murderer on the loose, he had gotten away with killing his cousin’s aunt, and Harry had never felt more free. If he wanted to live in the sunbeams that Luna cast around her, he bloody well would.
“Ready.” Harry announced in the pub, patting his jean pocket where a miniature trunk sat.
She inclined her head and handed Harry his brown paper lunch sack. “Extra crispy bacon.”
The fact that Luna just knew that Harry preferred his bacon nearly burnt warmed his heart. Yes, Luna Lovegood did give off a light all her own.
They headed into the city with their breakfasts in search of a muggle shop. Baby powder was, of course, the most important and easiest to achieve item on their shopping list. Luna really had drilled into Harry’s mind the importance of knowing exactly what type of magical and non magical creatures were able to access you and your belongings when you were asleep or otherwise oblivious.
“Perfect! I think they have big bottles here.” Luna announced and they went inside the little corner shop.
At first, they only got a few weird looks from the girl at the counter but Harry waved to her and picked up a shopping basket. He hoped she would see it and realize they weren’t there to steal anything.
Crouched down in the aisle, Harry looked over their options. “Do we want scented or non scented? There’s really only roses or no smell at all.”
“Everything has a smell to the right smeller.” Luna told him and Harry laughed.
“I suppose you’re right about that.”
”Get unscented for me and roses for you.” Luna told him, accepting each bottle of baby powder until they both had enough to make it through the term.
“Why roses for me?” Harry asked after the fact because he didn’t make a habit of arguing with Luna regarding anything to do with creatures. She was the daughter of an expert, after all.
Luna shrugged slightly and handed the heavy shopping basket to Harry when he stood up. “I can’t imagine a dormitory of thirteen year old boys smells like roses all on it’s own.”
Harry cringed at the thought, the smell of the Gryffindor Quidditch locker room coming to mind. “Yeah, scented is probably for the best.”
At the counter, Harry paid. He was better with muggle money than Luna was and he reasoned that he’d benefitting the most from the baby powder around his bed. The nargles hadn’t been attempting to nest in Luna’s mattress, after all.
“Really, it’s fine.” Harry promised her when she tried to pay him back. “I’ve got plenty and—“
Luna grabbed his sleeve and stopped him in his tracks only one step before they were to cross the street. “Don’t look now, whatever you do.” She whispered.
“Don’t look where?” He asked.
“The corner of your eye, left side.” Luna said very quietly, but Harry’s racing heart calmed when he registered the delight in her tone.
Harry pursed his lips in thought, revisiting the urge to turn his head. “You know, I’ve never understood that expression, ‘the corner of your eye’. I don’t see anything that isn’t right in front of me.”
“I can tell.” Luna said and wrapped her hand around his wrist. “To your left, ten-thirty I’d say, there is a very large black dog.”
“On a leash?” Harry hazarded a hopeful guess, though he doubted Luna would get so excited over a leashed dog someone was simply walking. “Sorry, I heard it when I said it.”
Luna must have shaken her head basked on the small jostling he felt through the hand on his arm.
“Well, there are loads of stray dogs in London.” Harry told her.
“None this big.” Luna said. “This isn’t just any big black dog, Harry Potter. It’s a grim, a magical creature running loose in muggle London. That explains why it’s skin and bones.”
“It is? Poor thing.” He said.
In truth, Harry didn’t much like dogs but he knew what it felt like to be out of place and terribly hungry. He also liked Luna, and if she was concerned then she would be concerned with her.
“What can we do?” Harry asked, still frozen in place at Luna’s orders.
She hummed the delightful little Luna hum that always came before she said something wonderful that made him feel like he was on an entirely different planet than he had been living on up until two short weeks prior.
“We need to get him some help.” Luna said.
Harry agreed easily. “We can do that. Can’t we? What if we take him to Hagrid? I’m sure he’d love to help a grim. He has Fang and Fluffy already.”
“Fluffy?”
“Three headed dog. Absolutely ginormous. Smells like a troll died in it’s mouth— not central to my point.” Harry said, only on edge at all because Harry still couldn’t see the giant hungry magical dog that Luna was talking about. “Do you think we could lure it back to the Leaky Cauldron and bring it to school with us without being eaten?”
“Mhmm,” Luna nodded affirmatively. “Grim don’t usually eat humans, that’s why this one is so skinny.”
“Usually?” Harry asked, trying not to sound too doubtful.
“We all have our bad days.” Luna chided him lightly. “The real problem is that grim aren’t exactly well liked in the magical world.”
Harry granted when he asked, anticipating further scolding. “On account of those bad days?”
“Hush now, Harry Potter.” Luna said, still as frozen in place as he was. “No, it’s because an absolute fraud of a seer in the twelfth century managed to convince people that seeing a grim is an omen of death.”
Harry wanted to ask if she was able to convince people of that because of those very same bad days but he felt it would be wise to bite his tongue on that particular line of questioning.
“So we need to get a giant black dog into the busiest point in wizarding Britain and keep it for over a month without anyone noticing that our new pet is a false omen of death that they will likely think is real omen of death?” Harry asked. “Just clarifying.”
“Yes. Can you still not see it? It’s at ten forty five, now.” Luna told him.
“Absolutely nothing, sorry.” Harry apologized. “Maybe they only appear to people they think are safe.”
“That’s silly. You very rarely bite.” Luna pulled him ever so slightly in that direction, then a bit further still. “What about… now?”
Biting back a gasp, Harry only minutely nodded his head. “I didn’t know it was watching us.”
“Why else would I have told you not to move or look at it?” Luna asked him, her voice thick with wonder and delight. “He’s beautiful…”
“H-how do you know it’s a boy?” Harry asked her, kicking himself for being nervous. He was with the daughter of a magical creatures researcher. Luna had traveled with her dad for years before she went to Hogwarts and knew all this stuff. “Again, heard it when I said it. Sorry.”
Luna shook her head. “I don’t like it when you say you’re sorry just for asking a question. And all grim are boys. They come from regular puppy litters, born with magic by chance.”
Like most things that Luna told him, it made all the sense in the world if Harry didn’t think about it too hard. “Gotcha. Any plan as to how to do this?”
“He’s at the mouth of the alleyway so I think if we approach him with the leftover sandwich in your pocket, he’ll let us get closer.” Luna said, and Harry could have sworn that the grim wasn’t wagging his tail before Luna mentioned food.
Not that he had an opportunity to bring it up before Luna turned him all the way towards the dog.
If anything, Luna’s first description of the dog— from when Harry hadn’t been able to see it out of the mythical ‘corner of his eye’— had been a series of understatements. It was somehow darker, larger, and bonier than Harry could have ever imagined. Its broad ears stood up at a near point, much like a German Shepherd or a wolf, and its silvery eyes were most certainly watching them. Upon making eye contact with Harry, the grim rose from its haunches and walked slowly into the alley.
When it was nearly back to the shadows that it had probably been hiding in for quite some time, it looked back at Harry and Luna to see if they were following.
Very soon, they were doing just that. Hary was fumbling around in his pocket for the sandwich while the shopping bags of baby powder stayed on his opposite forearm.
It should have been difficult to earn the grim’s trust and favor but only three minutes later the grim was both demanding scratches from Harry and sniffing his pockets for more food.
“Of course you’re still hungry.” Harry said, feeling a kinship with the animal. He knew the pain of a rumbling belly being teased with scraps. “Luna, do you remember if we passed any decent smelling street vendors on the way here? Or a pet shop?”
“Both actually,” She said, smiling in awe while stroking the grim’s back. “We’re going to call him Sable.”
Harry looked at the dog that was putty in his hands. “Do you like that name?”
The grim licked Harry’s hand, and he took that as a yes.
“Sable it is.” Harry said. “I’m guessing we can’t make him smaller? A little lap dog or something?”
“Shrinking creatures is frowned upon,” She confirmed, then quickly amended. “Mostly by me.”
Harry had figured as much. “That means we have to change his color.”
“And his scent. Some wizards with creature blood can sniff out a grim.” Luna said, and they both looked down at the shopping bags still on Harry’s forearm.
“We’ll just have to work with what we’ve got, then.” He decided.
In ten minutes, the oddly cooperative and tolerant wild magical dog was thoroughly dusted in baby powder and smelled heavily of artificial roses. Sable had given them a few less than pleased looks when it was applied near his face and snout but allowed them to work between dramatic sneezes. Like many creatures Luna had told him about, Sable seemed to be intelligent enough to understand that the pair of twelve year old wixen were there to help.
Their initial errand long forgotten, it was Sable that walked them straight to the pet shop. He stayed at Harry’s side, nudging him in the mid bicep whenever Harry removed his hand from the scruff of Sable’s neck. Luna walked on the grim’s other side, the one away from the road. That had been at Harry’s insistence as the Weasley twins had drilled that custom into his and Ron’s head the year prior in preparation for going to Hogsmeade weekends with Hermione.
“Oh good, dogs are allowed in.” Harry said, very relieved that neither of them would have to stay outside with Sable since he wasn’t quite positive that Luna wouldn’t wander off.
Luna smiled and ruffled the shaggy fur on top of Sable’s head. “You’ll get to pick out food you like.”
Since the grim did seem to understand enough English to have known where Harry and Luna intended to go, he didn’t doubt the dog’s ability to make his opinions on the subject known.
Upon entry, which they were permitted, the manager scolded them for their very large dog being off leash then brought them directly to a wall with a very small selection of options for extra-extra-extra-large dog breeds. The moment that they were alone, Luna insisted that Sable would do better with a harness and very short tether than with a collar and lead, so that was what they picked. It made enough sense to Harry, since it wouldn’t allow Sable to gain any speed to pull one of them over. He wasn’t exactly worried about eating gravel himself, but Luna was slight and the dog’s head came nearly up to her shoulder. Without proper control, she’d be pulled right over.
When they pivoted to choosing color, Sable nosed at a burnt orange one. The other option had been Slytherin green and Harry was glad that his dog had good taste.
“Red will go much better with his lovely fur.” Luna agreed and put it in the shopping basket.
By the canned food, Sable nudged almost every flavor that wasn’t seafood based. They seemed to be mostly meat chunks in gravy, if the pictures on the label were anything to go by.
“I bet these would be good over rice or mash.” Harry said, since the food seemed rich and the dog was huge. He loaded up their shopping trolley, trying to eyeball exactly how much would be able to fit in his trunk. Certainly not enough for long without finding a way to stretch it. “For Sable, I mean.”
“It does look a lot like stew.” Luna agreed. “We could add pumpkin. I’ve read that it's good for dogs.”
He shrugged but nodded at the same time. “Sure. It’s not like Hogwarts lacks pumpkin.”
Cart weighed down with the cans, they got a large bag of training treats and a large rubber ball to throw. When Sable stopped to pick up a wolf plushie, Harry thought of his half melted toy soldiers that Dudley had taken a magnifying glass too. He couldn’t say no to the hungry stray.
“Alright. You’ve behaved.” Luna told Sable and Harry smiled. Sometimes it seemed like Luna wasn’t able to read his mind but could see into his heart. That was probably far more important.
When they checked out at the pet shop, Harry was very glad that both he and Luna hadn’t known how much baby powder would cost, which had caused them to bring plenty of extra money. Their pet shop total was higher than Aunt Petunia’s weekly grocery budget, even with feeding Dudley and Uncle Vernon.
Luna did put all of her shopping into her newsie sort of bag, which cemented in Harry’s mind that there was something magical about the bag. He didn’t mention it. Unspoken secrets were a special part of Luna’s charm and Harry would hate to discover them all so soon.
Thankfully, they both had enough money left for four orders of fish and chips. One for Luna, one for Harry, and two for the massive dog that should have weighed more than the two of them put together. All four were devoured quickly, Sable’s absolutely drenched in vinegar. He wouldn’t have given it to him but Sable had nosed at the bottle on the grim-nose-height counter until Harry did. He told himself that it was to make the owner of the stand stop giving him dirty looks, but he knew it wasn’t true.
Before they’d left the pet shop, the manager had insisted they put Sable’s harness on him which they had done. The dog was so good that Harry hadn’t seen a need to use it given Sable walked right between them, but Luna didn’t seem so sure.
“You should keep hold of it when we’re out, Harry.” Luna told him, patting her bag. “I have this.”
Harry frowned. “Are you sure? I could just carry your bag for you.”
“Hmm, no.” Luna said. “I'm fine with it but Sable is a large dog. You’ll be able to handle him better than I could.”
That was something Harry doubted, which he rarely did with Luna and creatures and even then never out loud. He kept it to himself that time as well. Luna probably already saw Harry’s doubt that Sable would be the one being handled and she smiled at him.
Still, Harry held onto Sable’s harness and after lunch they walked back to the Leaky Cauldron. His shoes remained a bit drier than usual since Sable happily trotted them around the puddles that Harry tended to miss unless he kept his head down.
Tom only gave them one slightly disapproving but ever indulgent look as they entered the pub and went upstairs to their room. Luna called out a quiet request for a large bed of mashed potatoes with their supper and Tom agreed easily. No sensible wizard would argue with Luna Lovegood.
“You could put your trunk next to mine on my bottom bunk so Sable can take yours as a bed.” Luna told him and that was where Harry put it when it was enlarged and refilled.
“We’ll need more pillows for him.” She said later and Harry snuck into a few neighboring rooms to nick the ones from unoccupied beds. He arranged the pillows so Sable would paw at them however he liked. “Perfect!”
Harry always preened a bit at Luna’s compliments, they didn’t come with criticism or nitpicking. In a way, that was the most starling difference between his friendship with Luna and his friendship with Ron and Hermione. It wasn’t that he didn’t miss them— though he sort of wanted to ring Ron’s neck for not telling him about even the most basic creatures like nargles and wrackspurts.
Harry felt a lot like he supposed a pear-headed pixie popper would feel basking on a rock on a stormy day whenever Luna told him he was doing well.
Pear-headed pixie poppers loved stormy days.
Harry loved when Luna assured him that he wasn’t walking through the wizarding world looking or sounding like a complete idiot.
Sable nudged Harry’s hand then hopped up onto his new bed. He whined at Harry who couldn’t imagine that he wanted anything other than for Harry to join him.
“Hey there, Sable.” Harry said, plopping down beside him onto the pile of pillows. “We’re going to get you healthy.”
“And keep you forever.” Luna added while putting away all but one canister of scented baby powder for obvious reasons.
Harry pet Sable slowly. “I figured he’d want to be released into the forbidden forest once he was healthy. Also, we have to give him a bath tomorrow if we want to keep him.”
Luna shrugged minutely. “Grim are supposed to take to training quite well. He also seems to have taken to you. Sable knows that you need him. Also, I’m getting to study a real grim up close. Even Daddy has never done that. You know, some people believe that grim are omens of death while at the same time claiming they aren’t real. Isn’t that ridiculous?”
Harry kept stroking Sable’s neck, finding the repetitive motion and warmth leaning against him to be quite soothing. “That’s got to be wrackspurts at work— no, their heads are probably like wrackspurt King’s Cross, actually.”
“Exactly!” Luna said, smiling brightly. “I’m going to study Sable just how he is and write an article all about him. We can dispel all the nasty myths about the species because plenty of people will have already met Sable. Everyone will realize that he’s just a big puppy.”
Sable whimpered a little bit then rested his head in Harry’s lap.
“Not until Sable’s ready to be published, though. He seems to have a lot of opinions on what we do.” Harry said and Luna nodded in agreement.
Luna’s first set of notes on the study of grim were ten pages long in a sort of shorthand that Harry didn’t recognize. Usually, he stayed awake until Luna fell asleep but the pile of pillows and the rose scented dog made him drowsier than he realized until it was far too late.
“If you ever feel like you can’t trust anyone, you can trust Sable.” Luna said as he closed his eyes, her words fading quickly as he drifted off. “Grim make the very best secret keepers.”