Saturday morning promised to be quiet.
I'd finished my Potions essay the previous evening, and Hermione had promised not to bring me another book on Transfiguration until Monday at the earliest.
I wasn't sure she would keep her word.
Draco was spending part of the day on the Quidditch pitch, unless Flint changed his mind about the weather. Blaise, meanwhile, had announced at breakfast that he intended to take a break from people.
When I asked whether that included us, he said especially us.
For a few hours, then, I could do whatever I liked.
At first, I intended to go to the library. But I didn't need any particular book, and after spending the past few days bent over parchment, I wasn't in a hurry to find another desk.
Instead, I wandered around the castle.
The corridors were quiet. A few students were heading towards the Great Hall; others sat in window alcoves with books. Outside, I could see a handful of figures struggling against the wind.
I didn't envy them.
I was passing through a fourth-floor gallery when I spotted Luna. She sat on a broad stone windowsill with a sketchbook on her lap.
I walked over.
"Hello."
She looked up.
"Oh. Hello, Oliver. I didn't hear you coming."
"What are you drawing?"
Rather than answer, she turned the sketchbook towards me. She also moved her bag so I could sit down.
I recognised a tower, several rooftops and a stone arch leading into the courtyard. Some of the lines were unfinished, but I could easily match the drawing to the view through the glass.
"That's good."
"Thank you."
I studied the smaller sketch at the side of the page.
"Why did you draw the tower twice?"
"It looked different yesterday."
I glanced outside.
"It was snowing," she explained. "You couldn't see the top, and the rest looked closer."
In the smaller drawing, the tower partly disappeared among faint pencil strokes. It did look different.
"Do you draw the same places in different weather?"
"Sometimes."
She turned the page. The next sketch showed a long corridor with bands of light across the floor.
"Third floor, in the morning," she said before I could ask.
"It looks familiar."
"You've probably walked through it."
"Quite possibly."
Luna closed the sketchbook, leaving her pencil between the pages.
"Where are you going today?"
"Nowhere in particular."
"You usually look as though you know."
"I usually do."
"I often see you on the stairs."
"I've been going back and forth between the library and empty classrooms lately."
"You didn't look as though you were in a hurry today."
"That's because I haven't got a plan."
"I could show you another window."
I looked at her.
"Better than this one?"
"Different. You can see the lake."
She told me about several places where you could watch the courtyards and grounds without going out into the cold. One was near the library, another behind the first-year classrooms. She couldn't quite place the third.
"You don't know which floor it's on?"
"I know how to get there."
"But not where it is?"
"The stairs move sometimes. Counting floors doesn't always help."
It was difficult to argue with that.
I glanced at her sketchbook.
"Didn't you want to finish your drawing?"
"I can come back later."
She slid off the windowsill and packed her things.
"Come on."
We headed towards the stairs.
"How was your Christmas?" I asked.
"Good. I was at home with Dad. I helped him with articles for The Quibbler. We cooked too."
"Is he a good cook?"
Luna considered this.
"At some things."
"Such as?"
"Soup."
"What kind?"
"Sometimes it's hard to tell."
I looked at her. She walked beside me with a perfectly straight face.
"Are you making fun of me?"
"A little."
I laughed.
"Not bad."
"Dad likes inventing recipes. They don't all work."
"Do you help?"
"Yes. Especially when he forgets what he's already put in the pot."
"Does that happen often?"
"Less when I'm home."
We stopped as the staircase began moving towards the neighbouring landing. Luna waited calmly, one hand on the banister.
"Sometimes we just sit and talk," she added. "Dad tells me about places he'd like to visit."
"Do you travel much?"
"Not as much as we'd like."
"Perhaps you'll get the chance."
"We will."
She said it matter-of-factly, then stepped onto the landing.
A few minutes later, we reached a narrow corridor. At the far end was a large window overlooking the western side of the castle. I could see the lake, part of the grounds and the roofs of the lower buildings.
Luna stopped by the glass.
"Here."
I looked around. I didn't remember coming this way before.
"How did you find it?"
"I took the wrong stairs."
I smiled.
"A fairly successful mistake."
"I thought so too."
I leaned against the windowsill. The snow was falling more heavily now, partly obscuring the far shore of the lake.
"What about your Christmas?" Luna asked.
"Very good. I stayed at the estate."
"What did you do?"
"Practised, read and lost at chess."
"To a portrait?"
"To Richard. Have I mentioned him?"
She nodded.
"Sometimes everyone at home has a different idea of how I should spend the afternoon," I added. "Frederick wants me to practise, Richard suggests chess, and Evelyn asks whether I've had time to rest."
"That sounds nice."
"It usually is."
"What about the others?"
"They have their own interests. Some mostly argue with each other."
"What about?"
"Family history. Decisions made a hundred years ago. Who was right at a meeting no living person remembers."
Luna laughed.
"That must be like having a very large family."
"I suppose it is."
I looked out at the snowy rooftops.
A few months ago, I couldn't have told a story like that. Home had been a place I searched for in maps and documents. Now I knew where Anunu left the tea when I was in the library, and which portrait I was most likely to find Evelyn in during the evening.
"There's Anunu too. Our elf."
"That's a nice name."
"He's very old and very stubborn."
"About what?"
"Before I left, I told him to leave just one jar of jam in my trunk."
"How many did he pack?"
"Two."
"Perhaps he thought one wouldn't be enough."
"Exactly."
Luna studied me.
"Was it?"
I didn't answer immediately.
She began to laugh.
"So he was right."
"Unfortunately."
"Have you told him?"
"I wrote to my grandmother. And asked her not to tell him."
"Do you think she won't?"
I considered that.
"I'm becoming less certain."
"You'll probably get three next time."
Luna took out her sketchbook and sat on the windowsill. I settled at the other end, leaning back against the stone recess.
The conversation turned to Ravenclaw.
"I like the tower," she said. "We have a lovely view in the morning."
"We haven't got many windows."
"I know."
I looked at her.
"Have you been down to the dungeons?"
"No. But they're usually underground."
I laughed.
"Fair point."
"The common room's big. You can sit away from everyone if you want to read or draw."
"What about your roommates?"
She turned her pencil between her fingers for a moment.
"We aren't always interested in the same things."
"That's fairly normal."
"Yes. Some of the girls think I say strange things."
I smiled a little.
"You do sometimes."
"I know. So do you."
"Me?"
"Yesterday, I heard you asking Hermione whether wood was still wood if you changed its properties."
"That was about Transfiguration."
"I know."
"It isn't a strange question."
Luna nodded.
"Not to you."
I laughed.
"All right. Perhaps to someone who hadn't heard the beginning of the conversation."
She opened her sketchbook to a blank page.
For several minutes, she drew in silence. I watched the grounds, then the page, where the lake, trees and a tower roof gradually appeared.
"Have you been drawing long?" I asked.
"Since I was little. Mum drew too."
I looked at her, but she was still working on the sketch.
"She used to make little pictures on scraps of paper. Sometimes she left them on Dad's desk. He didn't always notice them straight away."
She smiled at the memory.
I knew her mother was dead. We hadn't talked much about her before, though.
"Did you keep any?"
"Yes. Dad has a few in a drawer. I have one at home."
"What's it of?"
"Our garden."
She moved the pencil across the page.
"Mum drew it in summer. Everything's much greener."
"Gardens tend to be greener in summer."
Luna looked up.
"That was very helpful, Oliver."
I laughed.
"I do my best."
She returned to her drawing. I didn't ask another question. Outside, a pigeon landed on a stone balustrade and spent a while shaking snow from its feathers.
After a time, Luna began telling me about a cupboard her father had repaired in the kitchen. Once he'd finished, the door would only open if you pulled the handle twice.
"He didn't fix it?"
"He decided it was better that way."
"Why?"
"Because now nobody could open it by accident."
I shook my head.
"Interesting approach."
"Yes. I like that about him."
When she finished, she held up the sketchbook and examined the result.
"Can I see?"
She turned it towards me.
I recognised the view, though not everything was quite where it belonged. One tree was larger, and the roof of the lower tower had moved closer to the lake. But the light on the snow looked so convincing that I could almost feel the cold beyond the glass.
"That's good. Though I think the tower's a bit farther left."
Luna glanced outside.
"Yes."
"You moved it?"
She studied the page.
"It looked better here."
I looked at the whole drawing again.
"I think it does."
She tore out a blank page and handed it to me with the pencil.
"Your turn."
"Should I draw the same thing?"
"Whatever you like."
"I'm not very good at drawing."
"You don't have to be."
I rested the paper on the cover of a book I found in my bag and started with the rooftops. Then I added the tower and tried to sketch in the trees.
Luna watched for a while.
"You're trying very hard."
"Is that bad?"
"No. You just look as though you're solving a problem."
I glanced at the paper.
I was trying to preserve the distances between the buildings and count the windows on the clearest wall. One roof had come out too wide, so I began correcting it.
"I like things to be accurate."
"I noticed. You don't have to draw every window."
"But they're there."
She regarded me solemnly for a moment.
"You could count all the bricks too."
She managed perhaps two seconds before smiling.
I laughed and moved the pencil away from the next window.
"All right. I get it."
I drew the rest a little more freely. One of the trees looked more like a broom than a tree, but at least I finished before it grew dark.
Luna examined the page.
"I like it."
"Really?"
"It looks a bit like a map."
"That wasn't quite the idea."
"But it would be easy to find every window."
I shook my head.
"You're not going to let that go, are you?"
"I haven't decided yet."
She handed back the drawing. I folded it and put it in my bag while she began packing away her pencils.
I glanced at her sketch again.
"You got the light much better than I did."
"Would you like it?"
"The drawing?"
"I already have a few of this place."
She tore out the page and handed it to me before I could answer.
"Thanks."
I slipped it between the pages of my book so it wouldn't get bent in my bag.
Luna closed the sketchbook.
"Next time, I'll show you that corridor in the morning. It's easier to draw."
"Fewer windows?"
She considered me.
"More, I think."
"Wonderful."
By the time we headed back, the corridors were busier. Only when I noticed how many students were making for the Great Hall did I realise that most of the morning had gone.
We met two Ravenclaw girls by the stairs.
"Lovegood! We were looking for you."
Luna stopped.
"For me?"
"Megan wanted to ask about your Charms notes. Have you got them?"
"Yes."
"Will you lend them to her later?"
"Of course."
The girl glanced at the sketchbook sticking out of Luna's bag.
"Have you been drawing again?"
"Yes."
"All morning?"
"No. I spent some of it talking to Oliver."
They both looked at me.
"Hello," I said.
They returned a brief greeting, then walked on.
Luna watched them for a moment before we started down the stairs.
I didn't ask about her friends again. After a few steps, she spoke.
"Sometimes we do homework together. They said I talked too much last time."
"Did you?"
She thought about it.
"Sometimes."
"Good thing we weren't doing homework today."
She laughed.
Her answers had been shorter with the girls than they had been during our conversation, but I didn't know whether that meant much. I asked her about lessons.
She liked Charms and Astronomy.
"Astronomy?"
"There's a lovely view from the tower."
"I should have guessed."
"What about you?"
"Transfiguration. Charms too. Defence Against the Dark Arts would be interesting if we spent the lessons a little differently."
"Professor Lockhart tells a lot of stories."
"He does."
"They aren't always about what's in the textbook."
"Even his own."
Luna smiled.
"At least you get to hear something new."
"Unless he's telling the same story for the third time."
"Not then."
In the Great Hall, Luna spotted one of the girls straight away and remembered her notes.
"See you, Oliver."
"See you."
She went to the Ravenclaw table, and I joined Draco and Blaise.
"Where have you been?" Draco asked.
"Walking."
Blaise looked up.
"Again?"
"With Luna this time."
Draco reached for the potatoes.
"All morning?"
"It went quickly. How was practice?"
He grimaced.
"Flint wanted to stay longer, but eventually we could barely see the other end of the pitch."
"So you could have stayed on the sofa," Blaise observed.
"I could have done plenty of things. They don't all have to involve lying down."
I helped myself to lunch and let them carry on.
That evening, I took both drawings out of my bag.
I spread Luna's sketch on the desk. I noticed tracks in the snow near a side gate and the shadow of a balustrade I'd missed earlier. The tower was still a little too close to the lake.
I slipped the page between the blank sheets of a notebook. Beside it, I placed my own drawing, with its uneven roofs and far too many windows.
At least I hadn't started counting the bricks.