Ripped Away

Year Two: Howlers, Lovegoods and Mandrakes

Heracles blinked in bewilderment at the girl's words. She knew what Wrackspurts were. She had read about them in a magazine called the Quibbler (which most people disregarded as full of rubbish, but Heracles found it entertaining) over the summer. She had several issues, and she was essentially fond of the articles that made fun of the Ministry. Heracles opened her mouth to respond to the girl's concern with false reassurances that she was fine, but stopped when she heard several girls at the Ravenclaw table laughing and muttering about 'Loony Lovegood'. Heracles scowled when she saw this. She hated it when people were bullied. She had experienced enough name-calling and loneliness at the orphanage to never want anyone, especially such a nice seeming girl, to go through that as well. Heracles glared at the laughing girls, who shut up in fear of incurring the scariest of all the Slytherin's wrath, before smiling warmly at the blonde girl.

"Thank you for your concern. I'll admit, my head is rather full of Wrackspurts at the moment. It's hard to think straight with everything that's been going on. It's been a hard week... no, on second thought, more like a hard life.", Heracles admitted sincerely, and the girl gave her a bright smile.

"Don't worry, it'll be alright. You're familiar with Wrackspurts as well?", the girl asked. Heracles nodded.

"Yes. I learned about them in the Quibbler's fifty-second issue. Most people say the magazine's rubbish, but I think it's a wonderful, unique publication. It's not afraid to speak the truth like the Prophet is, even if some of it's stories can get a bit wild.", Heracles admitted, much to the confusion of her friends who didn't have any idea what she was talking about. The girl beamed as bright as the sun.

"That's such a wonderful thing to hear. My father is the chief editor of the Quibbler. He loves it when people enjoy his work. Not many do, you know. Though I can't for the life of me figure out why... ", the blonde girl trailed off, and Heracles gave her a reassuring smile.

"Well I love his work. I got a year subscription just a few weeks ago. By the way, what's your name?", Heracles asked. The blonde girl giggled.

"Luna Lovegood, but people here call me Loony. I don't know why, though.", Luna said in introduction, and Heracles frowned. The poor girl hadn't even been at school a full day and she was already being bullied.

'Well, that's about to change.'

"Luna, why don't you sit here and eat breakfast with us? I'm sure your head of house won't mind.", Heracles offered, and Luna nodded. Heracles grinned and began to nudge George to scoot over so the girl would have room.

"Good, good. Come sit.", the green eyed girl encouraged. Luna sat down in the newly available space, and began to introduce herself to Heracles's friends. While she did this, Heracles sent a look of warning to the entire Ravenclaw table as she openly shuffled her cursed cards in warning;

'The girl is not to be messed with.'

The entirety of Ravenclaw seemed to stiffen and gulp nervously in unison as they received their silent message, and all of them collectively decided that bullying the weird first year girl wasn't worth their lives, so they returned to their breakfast without a word. Heracles nodded in satisfaction as she returned her attention to her friends. She smiled when she saw Neville making the most confused face ever as Luna tried to explain to him what a Nargle was. He seemed enraptured though, but not because of Luna's explanation. Heracles's smile widened at the awed look in her oldest friend's (on earth at least) eyes.

'Ah, young love.', she thought knowingly.

Then something strange happened. Errol, the Weasley's family owl, came barreling into the great hall with all the other mail owls that usually came in the morning. Only, Errol didn't land smoothly on one of the Weasley's shoulders or on the table. Instead, he seemed to be on a crash course for where Ronald was sitting at the other end of the table.