Gryffindor Investigations

(this one's been seriously edited from the original--if you haven't read Deathly Hallows, you probably want to stop reading right now)


Luna Lovegood had a dreamy smile on her face.

There was nothing unusual about that, of course; Luna nearly always had a dreamy smile on her face. It made people think that she was more than a bit stupid, which in turn, combined with her blonde hair and open, guileless expression, made them take her condescendingly lightly.

And Luna, whether interviewing subjects for stories or negotiating contracts with writers, liked to be taken lightly—right up until the person in question was forcibly reminded that Luna had been in Ravenclaw, and that the only things sharper than a Ravenclaw’s mind are her talons.

In point of fact, however, Luna’s metaphoric talons were empty at the moment; in her non-metaphoric hand was a circulation report. The Quibbler’s sales were skyrocketing, much to the dismay—and detriment—of the more mainstream Daily Prophet.

*I’ll have to send a copy of this to Father,* Luna mused. *He’ll be thrilled. It’s the Prophet’s own fault, really. They spent four years reporting everything about Harry but the truth, and even their readers wouldn’t put up with that forever. Then, of course, completely ignoring all the Crumple-Horned Snorack sightings Father and I told them about……”

She looked up. Elizabeth, her half-ghost secretary, was hovering in the doorway. Luna still wasn’t quite sure how one got to be half a ghost, even after eight months of having Elizabeth, but however Elizabeth had gotten the way she was, Luna had to admit that she was a very efficient secretary.

*Even if I did have to ask her to wait to have her lunch until I was as far from the office as I could be,* Luna thought with a mental shudder. Aloud, she said, “Yes, Elizabeth?”

“There’s a young man here to see you, Miss Lovegood,” Elizabeth replied. Her voice was somewhere between a moan and a shriek.

“Does he have an appointment?”

“No,” Elizabeth said, “but he claims to be Harry Potter. Shall I call security?”

Luna’s dreamy smile widened into a full-fledged grin, half at Elizabeth’s suspiciousness, half at the fact that Harry was here. “No, of course not! Send him in!”

Elizabeth face said plainly that she did not approve, but she nodded obediently and turned to the outer office. As she floated aside, Harry appeared in the doorway, his handsome face beaming.

Luna hadn’t seen Harry in a couple of years; she decided that those years had been very good to him. If he hadn’t been involved with Luna’s friend Ginny Weasley, Luna would have considered making a play for Harry herself.

Luna smiled, rose and came from behind her desk with arms open. “Hello, Harry,” she murmured as she hugged him.

“Hi, Luna,” Harry said. He broke away to hold her at arm’s length. “You look great! How’s your dad?”

“He’s fine, thanks,” Luna told him. “He likes being retired, I think. He sent me a postcard from the Canary Islands a couple of days ago; he managed to sunburn himself completely, of course.”

She motioned for Harry to take a chair as she reclaimed her seat. “Can I offer you anything? Coffee? Water? Pumpkin juice?”

“Water would be great,” Harry said gratefully. “I can’t believe the heat we’ve been having. It’s not supposed to get this hot in England!!!”

“E—” The call died in Luna’s mouth as Elizabeth, having anticipated her request, floated in with a large bottle of mineral water, which Harry accepted a bit dubiously.

Harry took a sip, and leaned back in his chair. “You just saved a life,” he moaned. “So……editor in chief of the Quibbler! And I heard you’re giving the Prophet a run! Your father must be really proud of you, Luna, really proud!”

Luna ever-so-slightly lifted an eyebrow. Unconsciously, the fingers on her left hand began to flex—exactly like a raven’s talons. “Harry,” she said directly, “was there something in particular you wanted from me?”

“Luna!” Harry looked shocked. “What makes you think I want something?”

Luna leaned forward on her desk, her eyes boring directly into Harry’s. “We haven’t seen each other in two years, Harry,” she pointed out, “and now all of a sudden you turn up in my office, gushing in your praise. You want something. What is it?”

Harry fiddled with the top of his water bottle. “Well,” he said, “you might have heard that I quit the Ministry.”

“Yes, I did,” Luna agreed. “I even heard why—you want them to investigate Draco Malfoy. You think he’s involved in something illegal.”

“That’s pretty much it,” Harry nodded. “Anyway, I’m opening up my own business. ‘Gryffindor Investigations.’”

“Are you going after Draco yourself?” Luna asked sharply.

Harry shook his head. “Right now, it’s just me and Ron Weasley; I don’t have the resources for what I want to do to Malfoy. If something I’m working on happens to involve something of is, then I will, of course, blow it to hell if I can.”

“I’d have been surprised if you’d said anything else,” Luna smiled. “So how does this involve me?

“Well……” Harry said, “in order to *get* the resources to eventually go after Malfoy, Ron and I are going to need a few cases to get the ball rolling. We *could* always take out an advert, but I was kind of hoping your front page was clear sometime this week.”

“You want me to put you on the front page?”

“Please, Luna?” Harry put on his most simpering expression. “Pretty please? I’ll do anything. I’ll even buy a subscription for my aunt and uncle.”

“Now *that* would be a first,” Luna laughed. “The Quibbler’s never given anyone a massive coronary before. Hang on while I get one of my staff photographers.”