A week passed like a dream.
Classes moved swiftly—Transfiguration was dazzling, Potions less terrifying than she'd feared (Snape still glared, but never at her), and Hallie's magic thrummed with eager precision. Even the staircases seemed to favor her, rarely shifting when she was in mid-step.
But it wasn't just magic that filled her thoughts.
It was Luna.
There was something gentle and magnetic about her. She appeared at unexpected times, always with a strange observation or a quiet smile. Sometimes she would hum tunes from no song Hallie knew. Other times, she would drift beside her in the library, offering strange books or pressing odd objects into her hand—a moon-shaped shell, a feather from a Thestral, a page from an upside-down diary.
And Hallie noticed something else.
Luna wasn't in her year.
Not even close.
She was two years older.
That shouldn't have been possible.
In the world Hallie remembered—the books, the films—Luna had been a year below Harry. But here she was: a third-year Ravenclaw, confident and quiet and beautifully herself.
And somehow, that fact warmed Hallie more than it unsettled her.
She found herself in the Astronomy Tower again, late one night after Astronomy class had ended, watching the stars blink overhead. She liked it here. It was Luna's space, but it was becoming theirs—a place that didn't ask questions it already knew the answers to.
Luna arrived without warning, barefoot again, robes trailing like mist behind her.
"I brought warm pumpkin juice," she said softly, handing Hallie a floating cup. "And something to wonder about."
Hallie blinked. "What's the thing?"
Luna sat beside her, cross-legged. "You've been thinking a lot about time."
Hallie's fingers tightened around her cup. "How do you know that?"
"You look at me like I'm not quite where I'm supposed to be. But not in a bad way." Luna tilted her head. "Like I'm a star that drifted a little early into your sky."
Hallie was silent for a moment. Then: "In the timeline I knew... you were younger."
Luna didn't flinch. She just sipped her juice. "Maybe this world wanted us closer."
The words were simple. Unassuming.
But Hallie's heart gave a slow, meaningful thud.
"Do you believe in fate?" she asked.
Luna shrugged. "Not the loud kind. But maybe the soft kind. The kind that plants seeds and waits. That whispers rather than shouts. You?"
"I don't know," Hallie whispered. "But I keep thinking... this world is too kind. I shouldn't have landed somewhere so perfect. Parents alive. No Voldemort. And now... you."
Luna didn't answer.
Instead, she leaned her head lightly on Hallie's shoulder. Just enough to be felt. Just enough to let the air between them shimmer with something unspoken.
The stars above turned slowly, listening.
Later, in her bed beneath the silver arch of Ravenclaw Tower, Hallie stared at the ceiling, still feeling the warmth of Luna's head against her shoulder.
Was fate real?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
But she knew this: Luna's quiet presence, her older-than-expected wisdom, her arrival before Hallie ever thought she'd meet her—it all felt like more than coincidence.
It felt like alignment.
And sometimes, the stars rearranged themselves.
Just to bring two souls a little closer.