Harry Potter and the Dovahkiin-Chapter 126: "Glitter? I Hardly Know Her"

The next morning in the Great Hall, it was unusually quiet when Ben strolled in.

Not silent—there was still the sound of forks clinking and owls fluttering overhead—but something was... off. The sort of quiet where people tried not to look at you and failed miserably. Then looked harder.

Ben was used to people staring. Usually it was the impressed sort—but this was alright as well.

He sat down at the Ravenclaw table, reached for the toast rack, and calmly buttered a slice while several fourth-years scooted a few inches farther down the bench.

Ben didn't say anything. He had about a three-foot no-man's-land of untouched bench on either side. You'd think he was leaking acid.

Across from him, Marianne was chewing toast with zero concern, swinging her legs like she hadn't noticed the quarantine zone. Cho sat beside him, determinedly reading Hogwarts: A Revised History, pretending not to glare at any girl who dared whisper.

Luna was feeding a strip of bacon to what looked suspiciously like... a green fungus in a jar.

Across the table, a fifth-year Ravenclaw made eye contact with Ben, paled, and immediately decided to eat his porridge facing the wall.

Ben sighed and slumped forward, forehead hitting the table with a light thunk.

"Brilliant," he mumbled into the wood. "You'd think I kicked a kitten."

Cho patted his back. "It'll blow over."

"No, it won't," Marianne said brightly. "They think you're some kind of Parseltongue dark wizard now. You'll need to rescue at least three kittens and a unicorn to bounce back."

Ben groaned. "I don't do rescues. I do damage control, which is accompanied by more damage."

"You could accidentally set Lockhart's robes on fire," Cho offered helpfully. "People love that."

"Already did that. Last week. Remember?"

"That was you?"

Ben sat up again, scanning the Hall. Some of the Gryffindors were staring, but it was the kind of look you'd give a bear at the zoo: fascinating from a distance. Slytherins looked quite conflicted. Hufflepuffs... were Hufflepuffing quietly.

"Maybe I should just hiss at everyone until they get used to it."

Marianne grinned. "Please do. Start with Davies."

As if on cue, Roger Davies entered the Hall, took one look at Ben's end of the table, and visibly reconsidered his seating choice.

Ben muttered under his breath in Parseltongue, just for fun. The closest Ravenclaw sixth-year choked on his tea.

"Ben," Cho warned. "Stop tormenting the table. I actually like this end."

Ben sighed again, picked up his toast, and took a bite. "Well. At least I don't have it as bad as Harry."

Across the Hall, Harry Potter looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. The Gryffindor table was treating him like a live bomb—one that had already hissed once and might go off again. Ron was saying something to him, Hermione looked stressed, and most everyone else was pretending to eat while very obviously not blinking in his direction.

Ben took a sip of pumpkin juice. He leaned back slightly and casually asked the only three girls still sitting within range of his elbow:

"Just curious—why aren't you lot scared of me?"

Cho didn't look up from her book. "Because we've seen you do a lot more dodgy things. Talking to Harry in a weird voice barely cracks the top five."

Marianne snorted. "Yeah, you shouted me across the chamber, remember? Parseltongue's just... a fun party trick, really."

"Tom Riddle was controlling you," said Ben.

"My point stands," Marianne replied.

Luna looked up, dreamy as ever. "I talk to animals all the time. Some of them prefer limericks, you know."

Ben blinked. "Do they really?"

Luna nodded solemnly, then offered her fungus jar a spoonful of scrambled eggs.

Ben squinted and noticed a bunch of eyes on the fungus. "Is that a Bundimun?"

Luna nodded. "He was living under a sink in the fourth-floor girls' bathroom. I found him while I was looking for my missing shoes." ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

Marianne blinked. "And you decided to... keep him?"

"He seemed lonely."

Cho shifted slightly away from the jar. "Aren't those the ones that secrete acid? The sort that eats through floorboards?"

"Only when they're feeding on dirt," Luna said serenely. "They don't do that when they have proper food, but I'm not sure yet."

Ben eyed the jar warily. "Does it have a lid?"

"Of course. I'm not daft, you know," she said serenely.

Cho let out a sigh of relief.

Ben's eyes dropped to Luna's feet again. Her shoes were squelching softly every time she swung her legs.

"Who hid your shoes in the fourth-floor girls' bathroom?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, but I suspect Nargles are behind it. They're quite mischievous, you know," she said matter-of-factly.

"Are they now? Did you happen to see any of these Nargles?" Ben asked, already guessing it wasn't anything invisible—but probably someone very real and soon-to-be red in the face.

"They're invisible, silly. You can't see them," Luna said, clearly amused at his ignorance.

Ben looked over to Marianne for any useful insight, but she just shrugged. Marianne hardly spent time in the dormitory; she was more often found lounging in the common room with the team or roaming the corridors alone.

Cho's expression turned distinctly sour. "Oh, I saw them alright," she muttered, glaring at the Ravenclaw girls' end of the table. "Big bunch of them."

Ben followed Cho's glare to the far end of the table, where Marietta Edgecombe was whispering something behind her hand, her little circle of hangers-on giggling beside her. One of them caught Ben's eye, froze mid-giggle, and immediately ducked her head.

He raised an eyebrow. "Edgecombe?"

Cho didn't answer directly, just stabbed her eggs with more force than necessary.

"I see she's still making friends the old-fashioned way," Ben muttered. "By being a bitch."

Marianne scoffed. "She's just bitter she's not the mysterious dark wizard everyone's whispering about."

"Please," Cho said sharply. "She'd combust if anyone paid her that much attention."

Luna didn't seem bothered. She wiggled her toes in her squelchy shoes and added, "It's alright. I quite like the noise wet shoes make. And it's not so bad—they only hid my wand once. And the glitter hex was very sparkly. And I quite enjoyed walking backwards with reversed feet."

"The only time they went too far was when they stuck my homework to the ceiling with Sticking Charms, I'm quite tiny, you see," she added. "Professor Flitwick was very helpful about it though. He gave me a ladder."

Ben's jaw tightened. Was that why she kept his wand tucked behind her ear? Why her hair always had glitter in it? Why she clutched her homework like it might vanish?

He felt a surge of anger—mostly at himself. He'd been too caught up in his own mess to notice. He thought no one would bother her with him around, not realising that being near him probably made it worse.

Ben stood up.

Cho blinked. "Where are you—"

"Going to have a word with the Nargles."

Marianne reached for her pumpkin juice. "Uh-oh."

-To be Continued...

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