The library was a cathedral of quiet light — high arches and floating dust motes, shelves lined like sentinels of knowledge. It smelled faintly of parchment and candle wax. Luna was already there when I arrived, her wand lighting the desk like a small moon.
Stacks of books surrounded her — Fantastic Beasts and How to Find Them, Magical Bonds of Trust, Ethics of Enchanting Creatures, and one that looked suspiciously like it had been chewed by something with fangs.
"Dionida," she said dreamily, not looking up. "Did you know that unicorn hair can sing?"
I blinked. "Sing?"
"Well, not exactly like a choir," she said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "It hums when moonlight touches it. Only if the unicorn trusted the one who brushed it. Otherwise, it just stays quiet. Sad, really."
I sat beside her, leaning over the open book. "It says here unicorn hair is used in wandmaking," I murmured, tracing the paragraph with my finger.
"Yes, but only when freely given," she said softly. "If taken by force, it loses its light."
She closed the book and looked up at me with that calm, starry gaze of hers. "Wouldn't it be wonderful to find one?"
I laughed quietly. "You make it sound like finding a misplaced kitten, Luna. Unicorns are shy, nearly impossible to track."
"That's what makes it exciting," she said, as if it were obvious. "Besides, I've been practicing my silent walking spell. You won't even hear me when I move."
I smirked. "You mean the one that made you sneeze for half an hour last time?"
Her expression remained perfectly serene. "Minor improvements have been made."
We dove into the books together. For hours, we read everything from unicorn habitats to how moonlight and honesty affected their magic. At one point, Luna produced a tiny pouch of sugar cubes from her robe.
"For when we meet one," she explained seriously. "Unicorns appreciate kindness and a balanced diet."
"Of course," I replied with mock solemnity. "I'll bring a hairbrush and moral integrity."
She giggled, a soft bell-like sound that drew a stern "Shhh!" from Madam Pince across the hall.
We ducked our heads like guilty schoolchildren.
Then Luna whispered, "We could go tonight."
"Tonight?"
She nodded, eyes gleaming with excitement. "The moon will be nearly full. Perfect light for a creature of purity. And I have a map Hagrid once used to track mooncalves — they often graze near where unicorns pass."
"You have Hagrid's map?"
"Borrowed," she corrected gently. "Temporarily."
Before I could protest, she began stuffing books back into their shelves, somehow managing to return them all to the right places without even glancing at the labels. By the time I stood up, she was already halfway to the door, whispering over her shoulder, "Meet me by the greenhouse after curfew. Wear something warm. And quiet shoes."
Later that night, the castle slept beneath a silver glow. The corridors stretched endless and echoing, every shadow alive with mystery.
I tiptoed down the hallway, cloak drawn close. My cat padded silently beside me, tail flicking like a metronome of guilt.
Luna appeared from behind a tapestry, her pale hair glowing in the dark like a halo.
"Perfect timing," she whispered. "Snape just passed through the west wing. He's in one of his stormy moods — I could feel the sarcasm in the air."
"Are you sure about this?" I asked. "Because last time—"
"Last time was educational," she interrupted cheerfully. "We learned he can smell forest dirt even hours later."
We slipped past the staircases — Luna humming under her breath a tune suspiciously like a lullaby for nargles. Once or twice, we froze as portraits muttered about "students with no sense of bedtime."
Then came the close call.
As we rounded the corner near the dungeons, a shadow stretched across the wall — tall, sharp, and unmistakably Snape-shaped.
"Hide!" Luna hissed.
We ducked behind a suit of armor just as his robes swished into view. He stopped, candles flickering around his silhouette.
My heart thudded so hard I was sure it echoed.
Luna mouthed something that looked like, breathe.
Snape's voice drifted low and cutting through the dark:
"If anyone thinks I'm unaware of their nightly excursions into the forest, they are gravely mistaken."
The armor beside us seemed to groan in sympathy. I pressed my back against the cold stone, praying he wouldn't turn our way.
After a long, terrifying moment — footsteps. Then silence.
Luna peeked around the armor. "Gone," she whispered. "Probably to confiscate something harmless and make it sound dangerous."
I exhaled in relief, barely holding back laughter.
We slipped out, running quietly down the corridor until the night air hit our faces.
Outside, the forest shimmered under the moonlight. Mist curled between the trees, and everything smelled of wet leaves and secrets.
Luna held the map open, eyes scanning the glowing ink trails. "If this is right, the unicorns pass near the willow grove by midnight. That gives us time to prepare."
"Prepare what?"
She held up a brush made of silver threads and smiled. "A proper introduction."
I laughed softly. "You're unbelievable."
"I prefer hopeful," she said, tucking the brush into her pocket. "Now come along, Dionida. Adventure awaits, and unicorns won't brush themselves."
The two of us disappeared into the forest, hand in hand, the moonlight weaving silver paths before our feet — two Ravenclaws chasing a dream of trust, magic, and laughter into the whispering dark.