The first whispers of dawn were brushing the castle stones as Luna and I crept through the quiet courtyards, lantern in hand, our satchel of notes swinging lightly at my side. The pond had been magical beyond words, the Glimmerlings dancing like shards of moonlight.
I glanced down at my cat, curled proudly in my arms. "You've got the best timing, little one. You're our guardian tonight."
The cat blinked slowly, tail curling around my wrist like it understood perfectly.
We hadn't gone ten steps toward the Ravenclaw tower when a gravelly voice froze us mid-step.
"Now, what do we have here?"
Filch. The sight of him would normally have sent shivers down our spines, his lantern swinging like a warning in the stillness. But my cat, sensing danger, leapt from my arms and landed softly in front of him.
Filch froze mid-step. He stared down at the small creature, eyes narrowing, then widening slightly. The cat arched its back just a little, yawned — and blinked those enormous, intelligent eyes directly at him.
"Well… you're a peculiar little thing, aren't you?" he muttered, reaching out hesitantly.
Luna whispered, "It's fine, Dionida. He seems… distracted."
Filch gave a low grunt, peering at us both. "I suppose I could scold you, but…" He scratched his chin, visibly perplexed. "You've got a cat like that, and suddenly I feel like scolding would be… unnecessary."
I blinked, incredulous. "He… he likes my cat?"
Filch's eyes flicked between us and the little creature, then back to us. "You two — sneaking out at dawn to chase after… whatever magical nonsense you've got in mind — stay inside, got it? I'm not blind, but I also don't want the portraits to start reporting before breakfast. And I have to admit… that little beast of yours might be the most impressive creature I've seen tonight."
I nodded rapidly. "Yes, Sir. We'll stay inside."
Luna giggled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "See, Dionida? Even the grumpiest caretakers can be charmed by a little magic."
Filch grunted again, clearly torn between irritation and fascination, and turned to lead the way back. "Ravenclaw tower. Now. And try not to give me any reason to change my mind, or your next adventure will be… indoors only."
We followed silently, my cat trotting proudly at my heels, clearly aware of the unusual power it had just wielded.
Once back in the common room, safe and warm, Luna flopped onto a window seat, sketchbook open. "Well," she said with a lazy smile, "I think we earned some points for cleverness tonight, don't you?"
I sank into the armchair beside her, still amazed. "I think my cat just made our night far safer than it deserved to be."
She leaned against me lightly, eyes dreamy. "Sometimes, the smallest creatures make the biggest difference."
And for once, I agreed completely — the world felt a little wider, a little more magical, and entirely ours.
The morning sun spilled golden across the Ravenclaw tower, filtering through the tall windows and catching dust motes in lazy, floating paths. Luna was already at the window, sketchbook in hand, hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. I sat on the floor nearby, my cat perched lazily on a stack of books, purring softly.
"Good morning, Dionida," Luna murmured, eyes barely lifting from the delicate drawing of a mooncalf.
"Morning," I whispered back, careful not to disturb the quiet magic that seemed to hover around her.
Breakfast was slow and calm — a rare treat at Hogwarts. The Great Hall buzzed with chatter, but Luna and I slipped into a corner of the Ravenclaw table. We shared bites of toast and fruit, swapping small smiles when a particularly loud giggle from Gryffindor interrupted the hall.
"They never stop, do they?" I whispered.
"They're still learning," Luna replied, serene as ever. "One day they might understand quiet, too."
Our morning classes passed without incident. Potions were careful and precise; we followed every instruction to the letter, even earning a rare nod from Professor Snape when our concoctions reached perfect colors and consistency. It was a quiet triumph, and we shared a small, satisfied glance across the table.
After lessons, we slipped into the library, our favorite sanctuary. Shelves towered above us, filled with dusty tomes and secret knowledge. Luna pulled a book from a high shelf, brushing away a fine layer of dust.
"Unicorns again," she whispered, her eyes sparkling. "I was thinking… maybe one day we could try to observe one safely, just to study them. To understand them."
I smiled. "Careful, Luna. One day? We've been sneaking after Puffskeins, Glimmerlings, and mooncalves already. How many creatures can one person observe before becoming part of the story?"
She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I think as long as you have a friend beside you, you can see as many as you want."
The afternoon passed with quiet excursions through the castle grounds. We walked slowly along the stone paths, the autumn leaves crunching underfoot. A few small creatures scurried in the grass: a Kneazle darted past my cat, prompting a flurry of startled hisses that made us both laugh softly. We left them to their games, careful not to disturb the peaceful order of things.
Back in the common room, we took a seat by the fire. Luna sketched tiny illustrations of creatures we had seen, while I added notes, sometimes jotting observations or copying magical facts from books. The warmth of the fire, the quiet companionship, and the low purring of my cat made the room feel like our own secret world.
"I like days like this," I said quietly.
"Me too," Luna replied, eyes meeting mine with that calm certainty that always made my heart skip. "No chaos, no screaming, no points lost… just discovery."
We spent the evening in small, deliberate study: comparing notes about Mandrakes, thestrals, and hippogriffs; practicing quiet spells to move objects without drawing attention; and whispering theories about creatures that might appear only under moonlight.
Before sleep, we sat by the window once more, gazing at the stars. Luna traced constellations with her finger, sharing small bits of her father's knowledge. I listened, fascinated, feeling that quiet intimacy deepen between us.
My cat curled around my shoulders, purring steadily, while Luna's hand brushed mine lightly as she leaned against the sill.
"Tomorrow," she murmured, "we might find another creature… but tonight, let's just watch the stars." And this felt nice.