She followed her brother and the other first years out of the Great Hall and down the corridors lined with portraits. After some minutes of walking, her brother, the prefect, lead them into the library, through the rows of shelves, stopping in the poetry section. He placed a hand on a heavy looking leather volume and tipped it forward. “Trick lever,” he explained as the the entire cabinet vanished. “Go on.”
Casting doubtful looks at him, the first years walked through the entrance way. When she turned around to look back longingly at the library, she faced the back wall of the shelves.
“You can't get back out through there,” her brother informed them. “Can't have students from the other houses knowing how to get into our common room. The exit lets out into the same corridor as the library. Follow me,” he said, beckoning as she breathed a collective sigh of relief with the other first years. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one with a longing for literature.
They made their way through a dimly lit passage way which opened up into a one of the biggest rooms she had ever seen.
It was circular and had at least three floors that she could see, a huge domed ceiling above them. Portraits of famous witches and wizards lined the walls and students were actually having conversations with them. The upper floors were open to the center of the room, banisters running around the edge protecting students from falling. And, if she looked closely--
She almost fainted on the spot. She'd never see so many books in her life Each of the three floors had shelves of them, bookcases stuffed to the overflowing. Already, older students sat at the many wooden tables that filled the common room and littered the upper floors, reading by the light of the thousands of candles that lit the room.
The ground floor was thickly carpeted, and she could just see herself laying there in front of the raging fire with a book in front of her, her legs bent up in the air behind her as she solved some mystery or the other. If not for the giant...turnip in the middle of the room?
She turned back to her brother, confused.
“There's a turnip in the middle of the room,” she stated.
“Yes,” he said.
“Why?”
“It's a monument to Luna Lovegood, the Head Girl. Harry Potter put it there.”
“Harry Potter?” the other first years breathed, as if they didn’t know.
“He put it there?” she asked, incredulous. “How come he was allowed to decorate our Common Room?”
“Yeah,” the other first years put in, each sounding indignant, protective of a room that they have only belonged to for a few hours.
Her brother nodded, as though agreeing with this outrage. “It's supposedly a private joke between them and the others. Most of the Ravenclaws can't stand it, but McGonagall granted permission, so there's nothing we can do about it. The truth is that they wanted to put up a monument for her, and none of the other War Heros could think of anything even remotely appropriate except for Harry. So the Turnip came and it stays. You'll have time to inspect the Common Room later,” he went on after a pause, breaking through the sound of the crackling fire and their marveling thoughts. “If you have any questions about anything, don't hesitate to ask. There are a few things that you might find lying around, don't touch them.”
At their alarmed looks, he added, “Some of the older Ravenclaws fancy themselves to be quite the inventors. Most of the proto-types are perfectly safe, but just in case, leave anything you don't recognize alone. The parchment recycler nearly chewed someone's hand off before it was done.”
“Another thing you should know about,” he said, sighing heavily. “Is the weekly pillow fights.”
They all looked at him blankly.
“I have no idea of who started it, but from Friday night till Sunday night anyone is free game. Everything gets thrown around. Pillows, cheese, turnips,” he said, ticking them off on his fingers. “Pizza, marshmallows, Muggles that are charmed to find their way in here....and any combination of those plus more. If you don’t want to find yourself ducking a pillow shaped turnip, stay out of the Common Room. Same if you don’t want someone to force a turnip shake down your throat. But if you insist on being in the Common Room over the weekend, watch out for the hamsters. They manage to wander in here from Hufflepuff and we’ve gotten into quite a few messes because someone wasn’t watching and stepped on one.”
As one, the first years made a face.
“This way to the dormitories,” he said, turning and motioning over his shoulder.
She followed him to the double set of winding staircases. “Boys up to the right, girls to the left,” he instructed. “And I ought to tell you now.” He paused and sighed. “Boys are not allowed up in the girls’ dormitory. Ever. If you try to go up the stairs, it will end badly for you so I don’t suggest that you try. Girls are free to go up to the boy’s though. Go on then.”
There was a moment’s pause before they ran up the wooden stairs, their shoes making no sound on the carpet that ran up most of the staircase, their hands sliding along the wooden bannister.
“You'll be alright?” he asked, one foot already on the bottom step.
She nodded.
“Good. You can come up to my dormitory when you're done unpacking if you want to.” She nodded again, bouncing on the balls of her feet. He laughed. “Fine,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “Go on.”
She ran up the steps to find that they went up higher than the three floors that were visible from the common room to find the stairs opening at the uppermost landing to a wide hallway with rows of doors on either side. She treaded down the plush blue carpet, her eyes running over the detailed molding and crowning that spaced the wood paneling, amazed at the work that had gone into designing a hallway. Gold name plates on each door (there must have been close to twenty rooms) listed the names of those who slept there. It was only the last two rooms at the end of the hall that had no names etched into the gold. First years, then.
She knocked on one of the doors, turning the gold handle and opened it.
A shriek met her.
“Have you seen these rooms!” one of the girls exclaimed, grabbing her arm and pulling her in to the warm and inviting room. “Tapestries on every surface! Desks by each bed! Endless supplies of parchment and ink; candles and matches! We can study until the sun comes up!”
The other girl grabbed her. “And look! Four posters with real hangings; you can't hear a thing when they're drawn! And day beds and bay windows and look!” she said, pointing to the ceiling. “It's just like the Great Hall!”
And it was. The ceiling was dark and black, the stars clear.
“We can have Astronomy lessons in our rooms!” the third girl said loudly, jubilant, dancing around the room.
She allowed herself to be shown everything in the rooms. The bookshelf that would bring you any book you asked for as long as it was in the castle. The recyclers that rested on each personal desk so that they didn’t have to waste paper. The blackboard on the wall for working out Arithmancy homework. The coffee maker in the center of the room. The giant closets that held room not only for their clothes, but rows of shelves for their personal books as well.
“And look at this!” one of the girls exclaimed, “one of the older girls, Muggle born, made an adding machine that works in the castle! I think it's based on something called a calculator?” They showed her more things than she could remember and she could only imagine what she would discover in the Common Room.
“Are the boys' dormitories the same?”
“Who knows?” the answer came with a shrug. “Who care“”
“They're very similar,” a voice floated through the open doorway. “The boys simply tend to have more garbage floating around from failed inventions. I'm Luna Lovegood, Head Girl.”
She gaped. “But you're-you're-“
Luna looked down at herself, her wide eyes bright. “Yes. I do suppose I am. I am here, after all. So I must be.”
“But you--you“”
Luna smiled sweetly at her. “Do you know which room you're staying in?”
“I--the doors-“
”Oh, yes, of course. Didn't the prefect tell you? Your names don't go on the door until second year. You're free to switch around until you're satisfied with your rooms. Of course, no one ever is. Some have fuglards hiding in the cupboards, or end up with wockets in their pockets. And then of course there's the--Didn't you know?” she asked, her eyes going wider still when she noticed their utter confusion. “We've been trying to get rid of them for years. I don't suppose the boys take me seriously at all when I tell them to work on the pest problem instead of coming up with a way to summon food from the kitchens without the house elves knowing.”
She stared at Luna in shock.
“Can they do that?” one of the other girls asked.
Luna shrugged. “Who knows? You should ask them. They won't tell you though,” she said, suddenly severe. “There's a Cootie Conspiracy.”
“A what?” one of them spluttered.
“Cootie Conspiracy,” Luna said again, her voice grave. “The older boys are already initiated into the cult so they won't talk to you. The younger boys are afraid they won't be, so they'll just bungle the ignoring you. And then there are those who will try to talk you into practical experiments to find out if it actually exists! Stay away from them!” she commanded, and swept from the room.
She stared at Luna's retreating back in shock before the other girls burst into giggles.