Luna turned toward him slowly, as though she had only just noticed they were there.
"Oh," she said, glancing down at her feet with mild interest. "I think they wandered off."
Hermione blinked, her brows knitting together as she tried to make sense of that.
"Wandered off?" she repeated, clearly doubtful. "Luna, are your shoes so sort of magical creature now? Objects don't just decide to leave on their own. That's not how magic works."
Luna nodded slightly, completely untroubled.
"They do sotis," she said in her usual dreamy tone. "Things don't always stay where you leave them. Especially if they get bored, or if soone else needs them more."
Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it again, clearly trying to process that. Was there really sothing like that in the magical world—and if so, why hadn't she ever read about it until now?
Victor didn't argue.
He just looked at her bare feet against the cold stone.
"And you're fine with that?" he asked.
"The ground feels different without them," Luna said, as if that answered everything. "It's a bit cold, but not unpleasant."
Hermione shook her head slightly, stepping closer.
"You'll get sick walking around like that," she said.
Luna only gave a faint smile, her attention already drifting back toward the tree as if the cold, the missing shoes, and the conversation itself weren't particularly important.
Victor watched her for a mont, then exhaled quietly, his gaze lowering to her bare feet against the stone.
"So they left on their own, huh?" he said, his tone calm, almost thoughtful. "It seems I should make sure these… naughty shoes are taught a lesson."
The words sounded light, but the intent behind them wasn't, and he already knew what this was—people.
A flicker of irritation passed through his thoughts.
Those Ravenclaw brats. Bullying soone like her.
Hermione, who had been watching him closely, suddenly stiffened.
"Um… Victor," she said, her voice hesitant now. "Can you stop smiling like that? You're creeping out."
Victor didn't look at her imdiately, his gaze still directed outward, as if he had already picked a direction.
"It's nothing," he said after a mont, his tone even again, though the faint smile hadn't entirely disappeared.
Hermione didn't believe that for a second.
Then Victor let his gaze move across the courtyard, until it settled on a small group standing near the far side. Three Ravenclaw girls, close together, laughing about sothing that clearly had nothing to do with the cold or the quiet around them.
He recognized them—they were the sa ones.
The sa careless expressions, the sa way they carried themselves as if nothing they did ever had consequences.
So it was them.
Heh… enjoy it while you can.
Tonight, they wouldn't be sleeping—not peacefully, not comfortably—and whatever happened next would not be forgotten, a lesson ant to stay with them.
So that the next ti they thought about laughing at soone like Luna, the mory of it would stop them before they even began.
***
That night, the Ravenclaw dormitory was quiet, the room dim with only moonlight cutting across the beds. The three girls who had bullied Luna slept in their beds, completely unaware.
Victor's astral form slipped into the room without a sound.
He looked at each of them, making sure.
Sa three.
He moved closer, stopping beside the nearest bed, his presence enough to disturb the stillness even if nothing visible changed.
Girls…
Be ready for what's coming.
Then a faint crying sound drifted through the room, low and uneven, enough to pull them out of sleep one by one.
One girl pushed herself up on her elbows, frowning.
"Did you hear that…?"
Another rubbed her eyes and glanced around.
"Are you crying?" she asked, looking at the third.
"I'm not crying," the third snapped, though her voice lacked confidence. "I thought it was you."
The sound ca again.
Longer this ti.
Closer.
All three went still.
"That wasn't any of us," one whispered, her eyes moving toward the darker corner of the room.
"Stop it," another said quickly, trying to sound annoyed instead of afraid. "It's probably just soone outside—"
"I'm crying."
The voice cut through the room.
It echoed, stretched, as if it ca from the walls themselves.
All three flinched.
"What was that?" one of them said, her voice rising.
"Did you hear that?!" another grabbed her arm, panic starting to show.
"I'm telling you, that wasn't funny," the third said, backing away. "Who's there?"
No answer.
Only that sa crying sound, now louder, dragging through the air like sothing heavy.
That was enough.
They rushed off their beds at the sa ti, stumbling into each other as they ran for the door.
"Open it!"
"I am trying!"
The handle rattled violently under their hands.
"It's stuck!"
"Move, let try—"
One of them pulled harder, another started banging on the door.
"Soone help! Open the door!"
"It won't open!" the third shouted, her voice breaking now.
Behind them, the crying sound ca again.
All three froze mid-motion, their breathing uneven, slowly turning their heads toward the sound.
*****
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