Before Sebastian even caught sight of the clearing, he was greeted by a sound that didn't belong in the dark, predator-filled depths of the Forbidden Forest. It was a voice—silvery, high, and completely untroubled—weaving through the rustle of the ancient oaks like a strand of silk.
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something please..."
The School Song. Sebastian slowed his pace, his boots crunching softly on the moss. He had heard this song belted out by hundreds of voices in the Great Hall, usually off-key and chaotic, but he had never heard it like this. This version was ethereal, almost haunting, drifting through the trees with a melody that seemed to harmonize with the wind itself. It was the kind of singing that made the tension in his shoulders melt away, replacing his professional concern with a strange sense of peace.
It really is her, Sebastian thought, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
During the Sorting Ceremony earlier that week, Sebastian had found himself watching the young girl with the straggly, waist-length blonde hair more than any other first-year. There was something about Luna Lovegood that defied the standard Hogwarts mold. She didn't look like a student; she looked like a dream that had accidentally wandered into a stone castle.
He stepped through a thicket of dense, overlapping branches where the sunlight struggled to reach the forest floor. The air here was cooler, smelling of damp earth and old magic.
The scene that met his eyes was something out of a lost fairytale. In the center of a small, dappled glade sat Luna. She wasn't in her school uniform; instead, she wore a pair of bright yellow leggings and a mismatched cardigan. Her Dirigible Plum earrings—vibrant orange and swaying like pendulums—framed a face that looked entirely at home in the wild. A necklace of Butterbeer corks hung around her neck, and her wand was tucked behind her ear for safekeeping.
But it was her company that would have made any other wizard scream.
Luna was surrounded by Thestrals. The skeletal, leathery-winged horses, often feared as omens of death, were crowded around her like giant, affectionate hounds. She was currently cradling a small Thestral foal in her lap, her small hands stroking its velvet-black neck with a tenderness that was heartbreakingly pure. The adult Thestrals nudged her hair with their white, pupil-less eyes, making soft, rattling sounds of contentment.
Sebastian stayed still, observing the way her magic interacted with the world. Most wizards had "loud" magic—it was defensive, aggressive, or utilitarian. But Luna's magic was a warm, radiating hum. It was an aura of absolute kindness that lacked even a hint of judgment. It was a frequency that bypassed the natural defenses of magical creatures, signaling that she was not a hunter, but a friend.
She has Newt's touch, Sebastian realized. But while Newt understands their biology, Luna understands their hearts.
He thought back to Newt Scamander, the legendary zoologist he had met during his own travels. Newt had a profound, scholarly love for beasts. But Luna? Luna seemed to be "plugged in" to their emotional consciousness. She wasn't just observing them; she was resonating with them.
As the final notes of her song faded into the canopy—"...until we become one with the earth"—one of the larger stallions snorted, turning its head toward the shadows where Sebastian stood. It didn't growl; it simply alerted its little friend.
Luna didn't jump. She didn't even look startled. She gently patted the foal's flank, encouraging it to stand, and turned her protuberant, misty eyes toward Sebastian. She raised a hand in a slow, dreamy wave.
"Professor Swann," she said, her voice like wind-chimes. "Have you come to join the party? My friends were just saying the air feels quite nice today."
Sebastian stepped out from the trees, a look of genuine surprise on his face. "Ms. Lovegood... did I hear you correctly? Can you actually translate the neighs of a Thestral?"
Luna tilted her head, her mushroom necklace swaying. "Oh, no, I don't speak 'Horse.' That would be silly. But I can feel what he's thinking. He was just being polite and letting me know a visitor had arrived. He thinks you smell like old books and expensive ink."
Sebastian chuckled. "Guilty as charged. But tell me, Luna—most first-years don't even know what a Thestral is, let alone how to find their nesting grounds. How did you end up all the way out here?"
"I have a copy of Mr. Scamander's book at home," she explained, her voice airy and detached. "I read it every night before bed. I think the drawings are very lovely, though they don't quite capture how soft the Thestrals' manes are."
"And you're not... afraid of them?" Sebastian asked, moving closer. "Most people find them quite terrifying. They're skeletal, they're invisible to many, and they have a rather grim reputation."
"Why would I be afraid of someone so kind?" Luna asked, petting the stallion's nose as he leaned in to sniff her shoulder. "They were very enthusiastic when I met them on the path. I was actually looking for a Wrinkled-Horned Snorkack—they like the damp valleys, you see—but the Thestrals invited me over for a song instead. We're very good friends now."
She looked at the stallion with a soft, knowing smile. "It's a bit sad, isn't it? That people think they don't exist just because they can't see them. But I'm lucky. My mother is always with me, and she helps me see the things that other people miss. Having her close makes the world feel much less empty."
Sebastian felt a sharp, sudden pang in his chest. He knew the story of Pandora Lovegood—the brilliant, experimental witch who had been taken from the world in a flash of misfired magic. He knew that Luna had stood right there, a nine-year-old girl watching her mother vanish. It was the reason she could see these creatures. It was the price she had paid for her "misty" eyes.
He looked down at her, seeing the small, lonely figure in the vast, dangerous forest, and his heart softened in a way it rarely did for his older students.
"I believe you, Luna," Sebastian said softly, his voice carrying a rare weight of sincerity. "I believe she's with you, too. Magic like yours doesn't come from nowhere."
As he looked at her, he noticed something odd. Luna was standing on the uneven forest floor, her feet partially obscured by the leaves. But as she stepped forward to guide the foal back to its mother, Sebastian realized she wasn't wearing a pair of matching boots.
On her left foot was a sturdy, sensible black school shoe. On her right was a bright red, patterned sneaker that looked like it belonged to a completely different outfit.
It had only been a week. Only seven days since she had stepped off the Hogwarts Express.
"Ms. Lovegood," Sebastian said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to keep his voice level. "I couldn't help but notice your fashion choice. Is wearing two different shoes a new trend in Ravenclaw, or is there a reason for the... mismatch?"