The next morning, Luna woke from a decent night's sleep. But something was off the moment she stirred. Her feet were bare—her favorite pair of shoes had vanished again.
"I didn't see anything. How would we know?" her roommates said, but they'd already left the dorm, leaving Luna alone. So she headed to the classroom to confront them about her missing shoes.
"Didn't see them."
"No clue."
"Never saw them."
All three of her dormmates denied knowing anything.
But even a fool could tell they were involved. What, was there a master thief at Hogwarts who only stole shoes—and specifically Luna's?
"You can't not know. They were there when I got back last night," Luna said.
This time, Luna wasn't backing down. She grabbed one of the girls' sleeves, insisting they return her shoes. These weren't even hers—she had to give them back.
People aren't machines; no one stays calm all the time.
"You're saying we stole your shoes? We're not that bored, you loony nutcase!" the girl snapped.
"Let go of me!"
The girl hadn't expected Luna to grab her. She struggled but couldn't break free. Her two roommates quickly stepped in, clearly taking her side.
The other Ravenclaw students just watched, eager for the drama.
That was Ravenclaw for you. Self-proclaimed "thinkers" of Hogwarts, they weren't impulsive like Gryffindors, loyal like Hufflepuffs, or calculating like Slytherins. They'd rather sit back and observe, only acting when the time was right.
Even if another house came knocking, they'd stay scattered, each to their own. Or, as some might say, a beat too slow to react.
Luna was no match for three girls. She hadn't trained physically, and soon they had her pinned to the ground.
"You lunatic! Just like your nutty dead dad!" the girl whose sleeve Luna had grabbed spat, hurling insults as Luna clung tightly to her.
"Let go!" she shrieked.
How dare a nobody like Luna Lovegood fight back?
"My dad says The Quibbler is written by lunatics for lunatics," one of the other girls chimed in.
Sure, The Quibbler sold decently, but most people read it for laughs. Like that article claiming Minister Fudge commanded an army of fire sprites? Ridiculous. Fudge, of all people?
To powerful wizards, Cornelius Fudge was the poster child for mediocrity. Early in his career, he'd been Dumbledore's yes-man, and though he was starting to break free, the impression stuck.
"Give me back my shoes!" Luna said, unfazed, her resolve unshaken. Borrowing something meant returning it—that was her principle.
Her defiance pushed the girl over the edge. Humiliated in front of everyone, she grabbed Luna's hair, yanking hard. When that didn't work, she spotted the sharp corner of a nearby desk and, without thinking, pulled Luna toward it with vicious force.
Luna closed her eyes, terrified but still certain she'd done nothing wrong.
A spell hit the attacking girl, and a clear, commanding voice rang out.
"Ravenclaw, attacking someone in public? What do you think you're doing?"
The hand gripping Luna's hair let go, and the three girls were thrown back.
Three figures stepped forward: the Disciplinary Squad.
"You okay?" Hermione asked, helping Luna up and brushing the dust off her.
"What are you doing? Didn't you see this lunatic attacked us first?" the three girls protested, scrambling to their feet. They'd planned to retaliate, but seeing who it was, they froze.
Granger, Weasley, and Longbottom—members of the Disciplinary Squad.
No way they could win a fight against them.
"Miss Audrey, I don't think you should call your classmate a lunatic," Hermione said calmly. "And we're not blind. We can tell right from wrong."
Neville's deep voice rumbled, his growing frame intimidating enough to make the trio step back. "We saw what happened."
Audrey's eyes darted around, then she smirked. "Oh, the Disciplinary Squad thinks they're all that? You attacked us! Everyone saw it!"
Ravenclaws were sharper than Gryffindors. Instead of fighting, Audrey twisted the narrative, playing to the crowd.
More students gathered—not just Ravenclaws but others from different houses and years. Not everyone respected the Disciplinary Squad. They were just second-years, after all.
And with Dursley, Potter, and even that Slytherin Malfoy absent, what was there to fear? Without them, Granger, Weasley, and Longbottom were nothing, right?
Answering questions? Ravenclaws could do that too—they just didn't care to show off.
If Slytherins heard that, they'd laugh their heads off. To them, Miss Granger was every bit as formidable as Potter or Dursley.
"Let's get the facts straight, Miss Audrey," Hermione said, her voice steady but carrying clearly to every ear in the room.
It was a trick straight out of Dumbledore's playbook, the kind he used at feasts to command attention. The restless crowd fell silent, stunned by her subtle but advanced spellwork.
Dudley had taught her this: when necessary, show your strength to take control.
With the crowd quiet, Hermione turned to Luna. "Miss Lovegood, tell us what happened."
As Luna explained, the students learned the truth: her shoes kept disappearing. No wonder the Disciplinary Squad had stepped in. Dursley always said they handled Hogwarts' injustices.
Audrey didn't flinch. "We didn't do anything. Who'd bother hiding her shoes? How do you know she didn't lose them herself? Where's the proof?"
Just as predicted, Ron thought, recalling Hermione's warning from the night before.
"Ladies," Hermione said, mimicking Dudley's calm authority as she glanced at Audrey and her friends. "I'll give you one chance. If you come clean now, there's still time."
Luna wasn't just calm and dreamy—she had an unshakable belief in doing what was right. She could be stubborn, especially about things like Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.
And her instincts were sharp. Once she was set on something, she'd see it through to the end.