"Your seat is still here," Luna said, peeking over her copy of The Quibbler.
Anne gave her a warm smile. "Thanks, Luna." She greeted Ginny, who was sitting beside Luna, and Harry across from them, then took her seat, sitting up straight. Hermione dumped all the snacks she had onto the table and slid in to sit right beside Anne.
Harry had already asked Anne about her arm when she came in. She gave a brief explanation of how she got hurt but didn't go into details.
That made six of them in the compartment: Harry, Hermione, and Anne on one side; Ron, Ginny, and Luna on the other.
"Er... so how does this whole Prefect thing work?" Harry asked.
"Well," Ron replied, "Each house gets two Prefects in fifth year, one boy and one girl."
"What about the other houses?" Harry asked.
"Hufflepuff has Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," Hermione answered quickly. "Slytherin has Anne and Malfoy. Ravenclaw has Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil."
"You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil," came a dreamy voice. Luna's eyes were fixed unblinkingly on Ron from above her magazine.
"Yeah, I know," Ron said, looking a bit startled.
"But she didn't have a very good time," Luna told him. "She said you weren't very nice because you wouldn't dance with her. I wouldn't have minded though," she added thoughtfully. "I don't really like dancing."
She disappeared behind her magazine again. Ron stared, mouth open, at the cover of The Quibbler, stunned, then turned to Ginny, clearly hoping for an explanation. But Ginny was pressing her fingers to her lips, trying hard not to laugh out loud. Ron shook his head, totally confused, then checked his watch.
"We should probably do a patrol or something," he said to Harry and Ginny. "If someone's up to no good, we can catch them and give them detention. I'd love to catch Crabbe and Goyle doing something stupid."
"You mustn't abuse your authority, Ron!" Hermione snapped.
"Yeah, right, like Malfoy won't abuse his," Ron replied sarcastically.
"So you're going to stoop to his level?" Hermione said.
"No, I'm just going to make sure I get to his mates before they get to mine. I'll make Goyle write lines that'd kill him. He hates writing."
Ron lowered his voice, imitating Goyle's gravelly tone. He scrunched his face in mock concentration and mimed writing in the air: "I... must... not... act... like... a... baboon's... backside."
Everyone in the compartment burst into laughter, including Anne, who had just picked up a pumpkin pasty and stopped mid-bite.
No one laughed harder than Luna Lovegood. Her shrill, piercing laughter caused her magazine to slide from her lap to the floor.
Harry picked it up, flipping through it curiously.
"Anything good in there?" Ron asked as Harry closed the magazine.
"Of course not," Hermione answered sharply before Harry could reply. "The Quibbler is complete trash, "
"Ahem, Hermione, have a pumpkin pasty," Anne cut her off, holding the pasty up to her mouth.
Hermione took it, eyeing Anne with confusion.
"I think The Quibbler is... a magazine with a very unique style, totally different from most other publications. If you've never read anything like it, it might seem strange at first. Right, Harry?" Anne said.
"Yeah... I've never seen anything quite like it before," Harry agreed.
"Thank you," Luna said, her voice suddenly clearer. "My father's the editor. He'll be pleased to hear that."
"I wanted to ask," Harry said, handing the magazine back, "Were those two articles about Sirius and Fudge written by him?"
Luna shook her head. "No, most of the articles are written by others and sent in by owl."
After that, they dropped the topic of Prefects and magazines. Harry, Ron, and Ginny got into a conversation about Quidditch, while Luna continued reading silently. Anne and Hermione each pulled out a book to read.
The train continued north. The weather outside kept changing. Rain tapped on the window now and then, the sun peeked out lazily, then disappeared behind clouds again. As night fell, the lights inside the compartment came on. Luna carefully rolled up The Quibbler, put it in her bag, and began silently studying everyone in the room.
Anne stared out the window. It was a moonless night, and the rain-speckled glass was streaked with grime.
"We should change into our robes now," Hermione finally said.
Everyone began fumbling for their trunks, everyone except Anne. Hermione and Ron carefully pinned their Prefect badges to their robes.
Eventually, the train slowed, and the usual chaos broke out in the corridors.
"Anne, aren't you going to help with supervision?" Hermione asked, clearly concerned.
"I'll skip it," Anne said with a frown, glancing out at the crowded hallway. "There are twenty other Prefects anyway." She instinctively touched her stomach, her wound had only just stopped bleeding last night, and the one on her arm had closed in the early morning. Aaron and Diana hadn't even wanted her to come back to school today. Anne had to promise multiple times before they finally agreed.
Still, they'd sent a note via Ink-Ink to Dumbledore and made her promise to check into the hospital wing daily.
Only after the crowd thinned out did Anne finally leave the compartment. She made her way down the corridor to the platform, where only a few students remained. Luna held Pigwidgeon, Harry had Hedwig, and Ginny was carrying Crookshanks.
Anne had told them they could go ahead, but none of them had wanted to leave without her.
Outside Hogsmeade Station, on the rain-washed dark street, about a hundred carriages were waiting.
As the group arrived, Ron and Hermione walked over, Hermione looking particularly furious.
"Malfoy was awful to a first-year student just now. I swear I'm reporting him. He hadn't even had that badge on for three minutes before he started throwing his weight around! Where's Crookshanks?"
"You know what he's like," Anne shrugged.
Ginny handed Crookshanks to Hermione, and Luna passed Pig to Ron.
"Come on, let's grab a carriage before they're all full," Ron said.
They approached one, but Harry suddenly stopped, staring ahead. "Wait, what are those things pulling the carriage? I thought the carriages moved on their own!"
Hermione, Ron, and Ginny looked puzzled.
"What are you talking about?" Ron asked. "There's nothing in front of it, just like always."
"But... there is! There's a winged, skeletal horse thing! You really don't see it?" Harry said, stunned.
Ron looked genuinely alarmed. "Are you feeling okay, Harry?"
"Me??"
"It's alright," came Luna's dreamy voice. "You're not crazy. I can see them too."
"Really?" Harry asked eagerly, turning to look at her. In her large silver eyes, he saw the reflection of the bat-winged creatures.
"Yes," Luna said. "I've seen them since my first day here. They've always pulled the carriages. Don't worry, your mind is just as sane as mine."
But Hermione, Ron, and Ginny still looked doubtful.
Anne, standing beside Hermione, was gently scratching Crookshanks under the chin. The cat had been trying to curl up in her lap ever since waking up, just like he always did, but Hermione had stopped him. After that, he gave up.
Crookshanks licked Anne's hand affectionately, making her giggle.
"Anne..." Hermione said, helplessly.
"Ahem, " Anne pulled her hand back. "Don't worry, Luna's right. They're called Thestrals, very special magical creatures. There aren't many in the UK. It's rare to have so many here at Hogwarts. So, can we get in the carriage now?"
Harry, Ron, and Ginny visibly relaxed and began climbing aboard.
But Hermione was suddenly excited. "Anne, you mean the Thestrals from Fantastic Beasts? Where? What do they look like?"
She always got like this with new knowledge. Anne grabbed her arm. "Hey! Wrong direction."
"You can't see them even if you stand right in front of them, you know. Only certain witches and wizards can," Anne reminded her.
Hermione looked a little disappointed. "I know... but I've always wanted to see one ever since I read about them."
Anne hesitated, then said, "Alright. Give Crookshanks to Ginny."
Hermione, still confused, handed him over.
"Come with me, and move slowly," Anne said, leading her toward the Thestral. She gently took Hermione's hand and placed it on the creature's neck.
"You can't see it, but you can feel it," Anne said. "This is its neck. The ones at Hogwarts are trained and won't attack. But if it were wild, this spot would still be the safest to touch, it's how Thestrals show affection to each other, by nuzzling necks."
Hermione felt something solid and cold, very real, under her fingers, even though nothing was visible.
"Thestrals have dragon-like heads and horse-like bodies. They've got bat-like wings and silvery white, pupil-less eyes. They look kind of eerie, but you've read the book, you know their sense of direction is amazing. Tell them where to go, and they'll get you there, no matter where."
Anne guided Hermione's hand to the wing. "This is the wing. They're actually pretty good fliers, too."
As they reached the front of the Thestral, it suddenly licked Hermione's cheek, startling her backward.
"Ha! Don't worry, that just means it likes you," Anne laughed, handing her a handkerchief. "But you should probably wipe that off."
Once Hermione had cleaned up, Anne asked, "Ready to get in now?"
Hermione's eyes sparkled as she nodded. In fact, from the moment Anne had taken her hand, her eyes had already been glowing with enthusiasm. But under the dim lights and dark sky, Anne hadn't noticed.
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