During the meal that night, Dumbledore announced his school treat which was the cancellation of end of year exams. This had disappointed Hermione, who seemed to live for exams, and who was unimpressed with Ron trying to convince her it was a good deal. Harry had to admit that Ron had a valid point. Hermione had missed a total of seven weeks of classes over the term between her partial transformation into a cat in late December over the Christmas Holiday and the last three weeks of classes when she was petrified. She argued that while she missed classes back in the month of January, she had kept up with her classes and assignments. She tried to argue that she could catch up on the last three weeks before she actually had to sit for the exams, but only she really believed that. Ron, of course, was over the moon about not having exams and Harry was rather pleased he had not spent that time while awaiting his meeting with McGonagall studying as it now would have been a wasted effort.
But the cancelling of exams was not as simple as it sounded. First of all, it had no effect on the Fifth Year or Seventh Year students who were scheduled to take their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s as those exams were administered by the Examination Board which did not answer to either Headmaster Dumbledore or the Hogwarts Board of Governors and could not be cancelled just because the Headmaster thought it was a good idea. This meant that those years did not get out of their exams. Second of all, the Hogwarts Express also was not under the direct control of the Headmaster or the Board of Governors, which meant that it was still scheduled to make its run from Hogwarts to King’s Cross Station in London a week from the coming Friday and could not be rescheduled. Apparently, it was also not possible to ask it to make an unscheduled run to and from Hogwarts.
Oliver Wood took this as a boon and began scheduling Quidditch practices. After all, he was a Sixth Year and therefore was now exempt from exams. All the other members of his team were Fourth Years or below, again exempt from exams. The first thing he did was try and convince McGonagall that the last game of the season should be rescheduled so Gryffindor would have a chance at the Quidditch Cup. Actually, it was more than a chance given that they would have played Hufflepuff which had lost both of its other games and did not look like it had a chance against the Gryffindor team at all. But Hufflepuff also had have four players who were in either their Fifth or Seventh Year so that idea was quickly put to rest regardless of how much McGonagall wanted her team to have its shot. So Oliver tried to schedule practices. He would have scheduled all day, every day if he thought he could get away with it, after all the entire team would be returning next year and he had not seen any “new” talent that could conceivably make the playing squad.
Oliver was one of a handful of students in Gryffindor who thought this idea was brilliant and the others were like Ron: rabid Quidditch fans but not on the team. The entire team aside from their Captain thought they would rather do anything other than go through his grilling practices, thank you very much. Fortunately, Oliver’s plans were overtaken by events. The morning after he began booking the pitch it was announced that all students who were not required to sit exams were free to use the school floo to return to their homes. The only restrictions were that their parents had to know they were coming and that they could only floo to their homes and not, for example, to Diagon Alley.
This idea did not sit well with many of the students raised in the Muggle World as they could not floo home even if they wanted to for their homes were generally forbidden access to the magical transportation network and it would take too long to set up a temporary floo - assuming the homes even had a fireplace to begin with. Harry was not among the Muggle Raised who were upset as he was in no hurry to return to his relatives, once it was clear he had to. Ron had invited him to go to the Weasley house called The Burrow which Harry was more than willing to do, but Dumbledore had made it clear that this was not an option. Harry had to return to his relatives for the first month of the Summer Holiday because it was “important” that he did so. Ron was at least as disappointed as Harry was to learn that Harry had to either stay at Hogwarts or find a way back to his relatives early, which Harry was not about to do. But Ron was not so disappointed to stay around any longer than he had to and he left the Wednesday after the announcement or ten days before the Hogwarts Express was due to depart.
This early departure killed Wood’s idea for practice as by that Wednesday evening only he, Harry and Katie Bell remained. The rest of the team had left that day. Wood would leave in a bit of a huff the next morning feeling that his team had bailed on him big time although he was pretty certain Harry and Katie would have as well if they could have flooed home. Harry was not about to tell him otherwise. By that Wednesday evening, aside from the obviously stressed out Fifth and Seventh Year students, the school had become almost deserted. Only the Muggle Raised students who had not been invited to stay for a time with a magically raised friend or a very small handful of magically raised students whose parents were out of town remained at the school. In Gryffindor, the Second Years were down to just Harry, Dean Thomas and Hermione. Dean had few complaints as he wondered aloud what it would be like to sleep in their dormitory without the snoring twins Ron and Neville. Hermione had spent practically every spare moment since she was released from the Hospital Wing in the Library studying. Harry only saw her at meals thus far where she made it clear that she might as well take advantage of the time to get caught up in her classes. After all, she was going to be taking all the electives next year and it would not do to start off behind. This comment was made after Seamus had left for the summer so it was not possible to debate whether there was a bet in play or not.
Harry was at a bit of a loss how to spend his time. He did decide to spend some of it working on the homework that many of his professors had assigned over the summer, but he was reluctant to do it in the library even if it meant being with his friend because she was still trying to catch up and would spend the time grilling him about his class notes which she had borrowed.
“Honestly Harry! How can I use your History of Magic notes? You write one paragraph and maybe two and then it’s just a squiggly line off the page. What were you doing?”
“Um… falling asleep?”
“Oh honestly!” she would add in disgust. “Is it so hard to stay awake in class?”
“It’s Binns!” Harry protested. “He’s a ghost and a boring one at that! Everyone falls asleep in that class!”
“I don’t!”
“Well … you’re special.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Harry blushed. “Um… er… I didn’t mean it in a bad way. But … well you should know he rarely ever says anything that’s not in the book and when he does it’s not on the test so…”
“Granted. But it’s rude and how can you know if he says something important that’s not in the book if you’re asleep?”
Harry spent a few hours a day with Hermione in the library for he truly had missed his friend even if he had yet to tell her so. Ron had not bothered to spend time with her if that meant time in the library. He also had not spent much time with her during either of her lengthy stays in the Hospital Wing whereas Harry had, especially when she was petrified, which was also something he wasn’t going to tell her unless she brought it up. But it was as if it had never happened at all as she was focused on her studies as usual. Still, Harry was pleased to spend time with her even if they didn’t really do anything that Ron might consider fun.
But Harry also felt the need to study alone and be alone as well. He felt he had a lot to think about given what had happened that year. He had tried to do that in the Common Room in Gryffindor Tower, but those Fifth and Seventh Year students who were not all but locked away in the Library preparing for their exams were there preparing for exams. It was annoying to say the least. Harry really had not noticed the stress level from last year and wondered whether he simply had not noticed or whether it was truly higher this year given the events with the Chamber of Secrets. Those O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students were all moody and in bad tempers and seemed apt to break out in some kind of tantrum at the drop of a hat or, much to Harry’s amusement especially as he was not the one who was the victim of the tirade for breathing too loud. Harry was forced to wonder if the stressed out Fifth Year who let loose upon that First Year had taken a page from Snape’s book or whether, perhaps, Snape had taken it from his own experiences preparing for those exams.
To avoid the stress many of the younger students left the Castle altogether. Third, Fourth and Sixth Year students who remained behind for whatever reason were allowed to spend quite a bit of their time in Hogsmeade Village, although this only really lasted a couple of days for by then most of them were out of money. First and Second Years like Harry were not allowed off the school grounds so many of them could be seen walking about or lying in the grass or, as in the case of Dean Thomas and several other muggle raised children, kicking a football about. While Harry might have been a prodigy at Quidditch, something he would never openly admit, he knew he was rubbish at football so he avoided that group as best he could. Instead, when he ventured outside he found his way to a large, shady tree near the shore of the Black Lake. He was spending his time there just looking out over the lake and thinking or not thinking at all. He would not spend the whole day doing this, just a couple hours or so where he was away from the Library and the intense atmosphere in the Common Room. It was quiet there and away from the interruptions that seemed to be common elsewhere. That and his new routine since Ron had gone home did not give him that annoying sense of having been done before.
It was Saturday afternoon, a week before the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to take the remaining students back to London, and Harry was alone beneath the tree. Hermione was her intense self in the Library, hoping to complete all her missed work before Monday so she could begin on her summer assignments which Harry had more than begun. He hoped Hermione would have the time to look over his essays in Charms and Transfiguration. He had yet to start his Potions Essay, which was almost as usual as that class made him almost feel ill just by thinking about it and the odious man who taught it. He also had not started his History of Magic essay, but that was more due to the fact that the class was both boring and he thought kind of useless even if it was required. His remaining three classes had no summer assignments. Professor Sprout taught Herbology and had never assigned summer work. Professor Sinistra taught astronomy and also did not assign summer work, aside from a strong suggestion to try and review the previous year’s material at some point prior to resuming classes. As there was currently no Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher seeing as the fraud Professor Lockhart was now a long term resident of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, there were also no summer assignments for that class. Harry had brought his Potions book with him to the tree but he knew he probably would not open it as he looked out over the still lake to the mountains in the distance.
“This is a very pretty spot,” a voice said. Harry turned and saw a girl standing nearby. She was not facing him, just looking out over the lake and towards the mountains. She was barefoot, but otherwise seemed to be wearing a class uniform although from this angle he could not tell what house she may have been in only it was certainly not Gryffindor. She had a pretty profile, he thought and long, blonde hair tied in a ponytail that easily fell to the middle of her back. Her hair almost looked unkempt, as if she did not wish to bother with combs, brushes or mirrors as many girls were wont to do yet at the same time her windblown appearance also seemed as if ever strand of hair was exactly where it was meant to be. She was pleasant to look at as Harry tried not to stare at her. He knew he had seen her around but also knew he had no idea what House she was in or what her name was. At best, all he could guess was her year as he was fairly sure she was a First Year. But seeing as he missed the Sorting Ceremony at the beginning of the year due to his being involved - albeit as a passenger - in a flying car that crashed into the particularly malevolent Whomping Willow; he really could not be certain of her year. The truth was he really did not pay much attention to many of the students at the school.
“A very nice spot to sit and think,” she said turning towards him and he noticed her eyes first. He could not tell what color they were for they were either a pale grey or pale blue or perhaps both. They seemed to express a sense of wonder which he found surprisingly refreshing and she had a pleasant expression on her face to top it all off. Her school robes were open for it was warm outside. She wore the grey skirt that certainly all the lower year girls wore and the white blouse, which was not tucked in. Her bronze and blue tie, which lay draped around her neck yet untied, told him she was a Ravenclaw and he could see that the top two buttons were undone, again perhaps because it was warm. He had a feeling that he met this girl before somewhere and not just passing in the halls of school. But this feeling was not déjà vu as he had no sense that this moment had ever happened before. “Do you mind if I sit here?” she asked very innocently which was a refreshing change from how many first addressed him. There was none of this “Wow! You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you?” stuff. Harry could only nod.
The girl knelt on the ground sitting on her heels. “I should have asked if I could kneel,” she said looking at him and not at where his scar was supposed to be. “I suppose I could sit, legs outstretched and all, but I am wearing a skirt and we are close to the shore and I should be mindful of the Bedderjigs in the lake.” She then leaned closer and whisper. “They like to look up girls' skirts and ogle knickers for some reason. It’s very rude and I shouldn’t tempt them, don’t you think?”
“Bedderjigs?” Harry asked.
“Well, I haven’t seen any personally but it’s best to assume they’re there and not tempt them too much,” the girl replied. She then looked out across the lake. “This is a very pretty spot, truly,” she said.
“Have - um - have we met before?” Harry asked cautiously.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” the girl said. “I’m pretty sure that would be a real memory, don’t you think? I do have a feeling we should have met or something like that, but I think that’s just an after effect of my Wrackspurt infestation.”
“Y-your what?”
“Wrackspurts,” she said. “They’re small, invisible things that get in through your ears and make your mind all foggy and dodgy and such. I’m pretty sure that explained why everything from just before my eleventh birthday until just the other day seemed as if it happened before. It was really disconcerting.”
“You … that happened to you too?” Harry asked in surprise.
The girl nodded and then looked concerned. “But I never knew what was going to happen next, unless it was obvious.”
“Oh? Obvious?”
“Well, like if you saw someone throw a rock into the lake. You would know it would make some sort of splash before it did, right? That’s obvious. But … well, there were a lot of things that were not obvious that I was sure had happened before but could not see what would be next and often it would have been nice to see what was coming.”
Harry mouth dropped. “The same happened to me! It began on my eleventh birthday and ended … last Saturday morning.”
The girl’s eyes got wide. She leaned in and whispered “Did you get a letter from a friend knowing you had no friends who would write to you too?”
“Um… no. I just had a long talk with a House Elf.”
“Oh. But that’s odd too, isn’t it? Had you ever done that before?”
“No. Not really. Not like that.”
“Odd. And here I thought I was the only one. I’ll admit my Daddy’s a bit off, but I was afraid I was too and now … then again, maybe we are both a bit off.”
“I don’t think you’re off,” Harry said.
“Thank you, I think,” the girl replied. “No. I can tell you meant it and are being honest and from the heart. Thank you,” she concluded with a very engaging smile.
“Um… what is your name?” Harry asked nervously.
The girl gave a brief giggle. “I did seem to forget a proper introduction, didn’t I? Guess there might be Wrackspurts about after all even if they had nothing to do with …” she paused as if thinking hard “… oh, poo! I can never remember that silly French word, assuming it’s French of course.”
“Déjà vu?” Harry offered.
“Yes, that’s it. It’s a silly word, don’t you think?”
Harry could only nod.
“I’m Luna Lovegood,” she said, “and yes I’ve been told it sounds like a Bond Girl’s name.”
“A what?”
“A Bond Girl. James Bond? Not that I really know what that it all about but I’m told it’s a famous fictional character in the Muggle Books and … I guess they’re called Picture Shows? He does secret stuff that’s very dangerous trying to protect people from very bad people and he always gets a pretty girl with a name that implies … well what he and the girl will do together when he gets her.”
“Oh,” Harry chuckled. “Never seen it or read it myself, but my room-mate Dean Thomas is a fan. You mean names like Mary Goodnight, Honey Ryder, Plenty O'Toole, Holly Goodhead, Pussy Galore and the like.” Had Harry thought about it he might have found it odd that he was not blushing.
“That’s it! Yes. Well, it’s been pointed out to me by some boys in Ravenclaw that Lovegood fits that sort of name thing although I really don’t know why. I also don’t know why they think my first name should be Wanda or some other odd names.”
“Sounds like they’re just being mean,” Harry offered.
“Maybe. But I prefer to give them the benefit of the doubt. I might be upset if I… if I had any real friends,” she added with a sad expression crossing her face.
“You don’t have any …?” Harry began.
Luna shrugged. “I had one when I was little. She was the only little witch around my age and we used to play together all the time. But when I was around seven or eight I made fun of her favorite fictional character and she got all upset and never came over again. I think there might have been more to it than that. I think my Mum knew there was more, but she never told me before she died.”
“She … she died?”
Luna nodded. “I was nine at the time. My Mum was a brilliant witch and was a Spell Crafter. Well, one of her spells went very, very wrong one day and there was a flash of light and loud bang and she was on the floor bleeding and I couldn’t do anything to help her. She said I did just by being with her. But she died.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry began.
“Don’t be silly. I know you’re saying that to be nice, which is nice come to think of it, but you couldn’t save her and you didn’t know her or me back then. Still, I do get sad about it from time to time and it’s nice to hear someone say that they care. I wish my Daddy would, but he… well, he was never the same after it happened and I think he wants to pretend none of it ever happened. I mean, what would you think if I said I was sorry about your parents?”
“Um…”
“You would hope I was being nice or trying to care but you would be afraid I was either being patronizing or trying to get something from you, right?”
Harry shrugged.
“You might not think that way, not in the front of your brain where you hear it, but deep down you don’t want people to feel sorry for you, do you? Okay, maybe certain special people, but not most people, right?”
“I… I suppose. How’d you know …?”
Luna seemed to pale. “I really didn’t want to mention that. I don’t have … well, how can I have friends if I say the wrong things even if I don’t really mean them in a wrong way?”
“You’re just being yourself? Just being open and honest?”
“And now you’re going to say something mean and insulting like everyone else and once again I’ll be alone,” she said in a borderline whimper.
“No. Actually, I wasn’t even thinking that.”
“You weren’t?”
Harry shook his head and smiled when Luna smiled at him.
“Thank you, Harry. I can call you that, can I?”
Harry nodded. “Um… how’d you …?”
“Know your name, Harry Potter?” she replied.
Harry nodded.
“I know you don’t like it but everyone here knows your name. I grew up with magical parents and in this world so I knew of your name when I was little. But unlike most people you’ve probably met, I can only honestly say I know your name. You are Harry Potter, a Second Year in Gryffindor who plays on his House Quidditch Team. Few can truly say more than that, can they?”
“But …?”
“The-Boy-Who-Lived is a myth, Harry. He always has been. All you have in common with that fictional character is a name.”
“But … but my parents! That night! The scar!”
Luna gave him a shrug. “What does anyone really know about that night? You-Know-Who vanished, or so they say and even if he didn’t he’s not talking about it to anyone. Your parents died. Unfortunately that is a fact that can be verified. You did not die. No one truly knows why.”
“But I survived the Killing Curse?”
“Did you? Did you really? Or is that something someone else wants everyone to think? Do you remember what happened that night?”
Harry shook his head.
“And You-Know-Who isn’t around talking about it and the only other two people who might know anything, who might have seen anything that happened are dead. What really happened that night? Did a baby little more than a year old defeat the most feared wizard of the age without even a wand or the ability to cast a spell? Did the baby really survive the Killing Curse? I suppose it is possible but no one can really say, can they?”
“But the scar …”
“Harry, that is a fact. You do have one. But it is actually evidence against the Killing Curse theory. That curse leaves no marks, no evidence at all not even a magical signature. It just leaves an otherwise healthy but very dead body.”
“How do you …? Why do you …?”
“I am in Ravenclaw, Harry. We do read … a lot. And we are taught practically from the beginning that not everything written is true or correct or accurate. We’re taught to look for facts and recognize speculation and conjecture for what they are. Speculation and conjecture are theories that fit the few facts there are but not the facts themselves. They could be what happened. They could also be totally false. So we know that You-Know-Who attacked your family and killed your parents, but that’s it. What happened next might be what we’ve been told and it might be something completely different. No one really saw what happened so we can only guess. In fact, the original paper from the day after merely said that You-Know-Who attacked the home of the Potters and killed James and Lily Potter and then there was an unexplained explosion that severely damaged the house, but you, Harry, survived the attack with just a cut. The Boy-Who-Lived stuff began the next evening when the Minister of Magic made a statement suggesting what people now think happened and even she said she didn’t know for certain. I guess given the times, the people wanted some good news and like it or not, you were it.”
“So it’s all a lie,” Harry began to get agitated.
“Harry, no one knows! It could be true, but to believe it to be true is something one must take on faith and not proof. It could be false, but again to believe it false one must take that on faith as well. Both are right and both are wrong because neither can be proven one way or another … unless You-Know-Who were to show up and say what really happened, of course. I believe Wrackspurts and Nargles exist, but I can’t prove it nor can anyone prove they don’t. They are a matter of faith and for me they help explain things I can’t explain or understand. This doesn’t mean they are real, but it also doesn’t mean they are not real.”
“Great! So one way or another my whole life hasn’t been normal!”
Luna actually laughed. “Who’s to say what is normal? People don’t think I’m normal and maybe I’m not. I try not to let that get to me. But yes, Harry, in a way it’s not and it’s not your fault. They labelled you the Boy-Who-Lived without thinking what that’d do to you or your life and … well, you’re kind of stuck with the label aren’t you even if it’s not true. They call me Looney ‘cause of my Dad and what he writes in his paper and 'cause I won’t say it’s rubbish. But maybe I’m one of the few sane people out there and everyone else is not normal.”
“I never looked at it that way,” Harry thought aloud.
“Of course what the adult population believes is bad enough,” Luna mused, “but those books are nothing but silly fiction yet many children believe it’s true.”
“Books? Silly fiction?”
“Silly fiction is what I call any fictional book that is so unbelievable it’s just silly. They’ve written scores of those kinds of books about you after the first one came out on your second birthday. Many are for really small kids with big pictures and few words that their parents read to them and others are for older children with few pictures and loads of words that they read themselves - or their parents read to them. It’s silly ‘cause it can’t possibly be true. I mean most of what happens is impossible with magic and all. They are almost always the same. Harry Potter is perfect magical boy who lives with his perfectly correct magical guardians in a perfect magical manor always does what he’s told and is big and strong for his age 'cause he eats his vegetables even when he doesn’t like them or doesn’t want to. One day an evil thing of some sort kidnaps a good wizarding child and Harry’s off to save the day, beat or slay the evil thing and everyone lives happily ever after and all that. It’s even more annoying 'cause the authors are all into alliteration in their titles.”
“Alliteration?”
“The same or similar sound is used in the words in the title such as: Harry Potter and the Dastardly Dragon, Harry Potter and the Murderous Muggle, Harry Potter and the Wicked Werewolf, Harry Potter and the Terrible Troll, Harry Potter and the Horrible Hag, and Harry Potter and the Naughty Nundu. That last one is really silly. Nundu’s are easily the most vicious and dangerous beasts out there. They destroy whole villages at a time and it takes a hundred or more wizards to bring one down. What’s a ‘naughty nundu’ when there’s nothing nice about them? What’s really fake about that one is that all Harry did was give it a spanking and it behaved itself.”
“Bloody hell! And the kids here read that stuff?”
Luna shrugged. “Some did, some did not. Some believe it or want to and others see it for what it is. But yes, Harry, to answer your unasked question many seem to think you are not who you really are.”
“And who am I?”
Luna chuckled. “Why, you’re Harry Potter of course. Now what that means really is… well, I guess only you can decide what it means. I mean …”
“My life wasn’t like that, you know.”
Luna nodded. “I never thought so. You certainly don’t act like the fictional character.”
“Um… and how’s that?”
“Like he knows everything and can do anything,” Luna chuckled. “In other words, he’s a fake ‘cause no one knows everything or can do anything. You may have done some things most would not even think of doing, such as recently and stuff, but you don’t act like you can do everything. It’s hard to explain, but you’re actually not all that abnormal in many ways. People just see you that way - well those that don’t try to get to know you, that is.”
“Does anyone see the real me?”
Luna looked at him. “What do you think? Does anyone? Only you really would know who the real you is, don’t you think? But, if your question really is does anyone try to see the real you and not the rubbish others have said or written about you … again, you would probably know the answer to that better than I would, wouldn’t you? As far as we know this is the first time we’ve really met and talked after all.”
Harry thought for a moment. “I think you’re trying. I can’t say that about most of the others I know here.”
“I’m not the only one, am I?”
“No. Hermione probably has always tried to know me… well sometimes it seems she knows me better than I know myself about some things. I haven’t told her about my life back … well out in the Muggle World. Haven’t told anyone really and don’t fancy doing so anytime soon. But if I told her … okay, she’d be upset, but not with me.”
“Is it bad?”
Harry just shrugged.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s okay. I do appreciate you telling me about this Boy-Who-Lived bloke, though.”
“It was my pleasure. I would say I’m surprised but … well, others may have thought it rude or wrong to do so.”
“You don’t?”
Luna shrugged. “You seemed to need to hear another side of that, one that’s not … I don’t know … not wedded to that belief. I told you what I think is true, which is what people should do, don’t you think?”
Harry didn’t answer. The question seemed rhetorical to him and when Luna didn’t press him he was more certain that it was so.
“I can’t believe people think I grew up in some Manor. I’ve never even seen the inside of a Manor,” Harry chuckled.
“You said you grew up with Muggles?”
Harry nodded. “After my parents were … you know. My Aunt was my Mum’s sister. Mum was a witch and my Aunt was not and … I guess she hated my Mum for being a witch. She doesn’t like magic, that’s for certain, and neither does her husband. It’s not normal.”
“People tend to be afraid of things they don’t understand,” Luna said. “My Daddy’s afraid of some Muggle things, or so he’s said. People also tend to resent others for things others have and they can’t. Are there Manors in the Muggle World.”
“I haven’t been to one, but yes,” Harry said. “I’ve seen a few on a trip back when I went to Muggle school. Some are even called palaces, although I don’t know if that’s ‘cause they’re bigger and fancier or if it’s just because they’re owned by the Queen and her family or what. But the house I lived in is not big at all. I’m pretty sure my Aunt and Uncle are not rich, 'cause they would certainly have a bigger house if they were. That’s the way they are.”
“Well,” Luna said, “I can’t tell you if the Potters had a Manor, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Potters were a very, very old wizarding family. They certainly were around when Hogwarts was founded and, well, Daddy said they had money. He didn’t say how much, but they didn’t have to work for it which meant they had a fair bit. My Mum knew them pretty well, although she never went on about that sort of thing. But I asked her once if she thought the real you was okay and she thought you were. They would have provided for you. But if you really want to know the answer, I suppose you should visit Gringotts and ask.”
“Why would they tell me? I’m only twelve!”
“Because there are no Potters left,” Luna said. “As you’re it, if there’re any Potter vaults or such even if you can’t access them until you come of age or something, they’re required to tell you about them and what’s in them. It’s the law.”
“I know I have a vault. I have a key.”
“You have your own key?”
Harry nodded.
“That’s probably just a… um… Trick, Tuck … a Trust Vault. It’s probably only a small part of the Potter stuff. But again, you’d have to ask the Goblins about that.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me that?”
“Like who?”
“Hermione, for one. She’s really smart and …”
“And she’s a Muggle Born who probably knew as much about the wizarding world as you did based upon what you’ve told me before she got her Hogwarts letter, which means nothing, doesn’t it? Did you think to check out books on Goblins and money?”
“No.”
“Why would she? She doesn’t have a vault, does she?”
“I… I don’t know. I don’t think so. Still …”
“If she hasn’t had a reason to learn it, she probably hasn’t. It’s not that she knew and didn’t tell you, you know. Besides, did you even ask her?”
“Well … no.”
“Do you know what a dumb question is?”
“Erm …”
“It’s the question you think of but don’t ask,” Luna said. “Of course, if you didn’t think of the question, then there is nothing dumb about it at all.”
“But Ron knows I have money and …”
“And you never asked him that either,” Luna said. “He might not know about what Gringotts can tell you about your family. He might also assume you already know. And if you never asked, well he has no reason to assume otherwise, does he?”
“I guess not. Th-thanks, Luna.”
“You’re welcome. I should be thanking you, though.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” Luna said looking earnest. “Today it seems almost as if I have a friend and … well, it’s because for some reason you have something to do with my not feeling that French word thing, although I don’t know why.”
“I wouldn’t mind being friends with you, Luna. And what do you mean by that déjà vu thing?”
“Well, I thought it was only me who had it, of course, but you having it makes sense. I think it was kind of like a message or a message about a coming message sort of. I know I didn’t like that feeling all the time at all and was hoping for something to truly seem new again …”
“So was I,” Harry nodded.
“So when it did, well I’d just do whatever seemed new,” Luna continued. “As I said, for me it all became new again when I got that strange letter, and it was strange. You see, whoever wrote it didn’t say who they were or rather that I couldn’t see who they were until it was time. It did tell me when that time would be. It would be this summer - hopefully very soon this summer - after I left Hogwarts. But it also said it would not reveal itself to me alone. You had to be there too. So, well as everything that I did or thought about the letter after I got it was new … I had to talk to you ‘cause I have to know what the letter says. I don’t want that déjà vuthing to come back and since that means I need to show it to you away from here during the summer and since I don’t know where you live and you don’t know where I live and … well, we didn’t even really know each other at all to begin with … well, here I am. I’d really like to be your friend, but even more right now I just want things to be new again.”
Harry nodded. “I told you about the elf that I talked to and it went away?”
Luna nodded.
“I saved him in a way and he wanted to be my elf and … well, I still don’t know why he did or what he can do and all, not really anyway, but he did tell me some things. One thing he can do is take me most anywhere I want to go. I don’t even really need to know where it is, just why I want to go there. I guess … well, I’d rather not have you come by my relatives' place. They’re not nice people at all and even worse where magic is concerned and… But my elf friend… Well, I think he can bring me to you. Something tells me this may be important to and since it seems to be connected with not having déjà vu all the time… Um, when?”
Luna smiled.