Heading back to her desk after the lunch meeting, Luna almost walked past the sleeping girl before she saw her. The child, probably named Suzanne, was a red haired girl around 6 years of age. The girl had fallen asleep in the soft cushioned guest chair in Luna’s office. Luna, who had been raised at the old Quibbler, always encouraged the presence of her employees’ children in the office. The presence of children in the office made the Quibbler a family not a job. So finding children, like this one, where they were not expected was not that rare.

Luna took the wand out from behind her left ear and conjured a pillow and comforter on the office couch. Luna tenderly picked the child up off the chair and placed her on the office couch trying not to awaken her. As Suzanne’s head touched the couch’s pillow, her hand opened and two gobstones fell onto the floor. After Luna had tucked the girl in, she reached down and picked up the pair of marbles. I remember the first time I touched a gobstone, my first year at Hogwarts. The day I first met Dumbledore, thought Luna.

Professor Flitwick waived Luna off the spiral staircase and knocked on the large wooden door. An expansive voice answered from the other side, “Come in.” Flitwick motioned to Luna that she should walk through the doorway. After Luna crossed the threshold, the door closed behind her leaving Flitwick outside of the office.

The room Luna entered into was the most fascinating place she had ever been. As Dumbledore tried to start a conversation with her, Luna turned her head from side to side taking in the room and all of its amazing occupants.

“As I said Miss Lovegood, you are here to discuss why you stuck your wand into Mr. Goyle’s eye,” repeated Dumbledore distractedly. “And to establish the time you will have to spend in detention. Do you have any questions?” added Dumbledore.

“Yes, what type of bird is that? It looks really sick. The Sorting Hat told me I was too smart to believe what I know; what did it mean?” she asked in a sing-song monotone. Luna having answered Dumbledore’s question about questions, quietly waited for his answers while lazily scanning the office as if she was getting ready to add more questions to her list.

Dumbledore paused and looked down at her with a look somewhere between amusement and amazement. “The bird is Fawkes, a Phoenix; he is not sick. He is just losing his feathers because soon he will reach his burning time. A Phoenix is a very rare creature,” Dumbledore explained in his most patient teacher’s voice.

“No, they’re not. My father told me there’s a whole city full of them in America,” Luna asserted absent-mindedly. Dumbledore seemed befuddled by the child’s response to his simple statement. He decided to bend down to get a good look at this strange girl in his office. Dumbledore’s movement caught Luna by surprise. She quickly looked into old man’s confused eyes. The two sets of eyes locked onto each other. Luna saw Dumbledore blink his eyes and almost immediately blink again. “The Wrackspurt got you,” Luna slowly stated wide eyed.

“The what?” sputtered Dumbledore.

“A Wrackspurt, they’re an invisible bird that flies into your ear and makes your mind forget. And sometimes they whisper to you what the other person was thinking,” she calmly confided to the old man.

“Oh!” exclaimed Dumbledore, just beginning to understand what had just occurred. “Well here at Hogwarts, we have another name for your Wrackspurt. We would call it a form of Legilimency ”, Dumbledore explained gently.

“Formolegilimency, now that’s a really silly name for a bird,” she answered with a laugh.

As Dumbledore stayed at Luna’s eye level, Luna noticed over his shoulder a really big sword was hanging on the office wall. Luna was trying to make out the lettering on the sword when she heard a creaking noise to her right. The sound caused her to turn her head and to find its source. The source was Dumbledore. He was standing by a spindly looking cherry wood table opening the table’s drawer. Luna watched Dumbledore pull a small very cracked leather pouch from inside of the table. The old man’s fingers worked hard to open the small golden clasp which held the red velvet cord that closed the sack. After his fingers were successful, Dumbledore removed two bright green orbs from the pouch. “Do you know what these objects are, Luna?” he asked holding the circlets out.

“No,” answered Luna as she moved over to the old man to get a good view. She couldn’t help but to reached out her left forefinger and touch them. The surface was smooth and cool to the touch.

“These are gobstones. My brother and I each received a bag of them one Christmas,” Dumbledore explained. ‘And unfortunately for me, Aberforth was a natural with them and he defeated me every time we played. Yet I wasn’t satisfied with losing. I practiced hour after hour and eventually I became so good that my brother soon refused to play me,” reminisced the old man. “Do you see what I am trying to say with my story?” prompted Dumbledore.

“Yes, if you practice at something you’ll get better at it. And also your brother was really lazy and a bad sport,” responded Luna in an airy tone.

Dumbledore start to speak and paused. “Did I really? Indeed! Well you seem to have a natural ability to communicate with the Wrackspurt just like my brother did with the gobstones. If you let me help you learn how to better train your ability with the Wrackspurt, it could become more useful to you. Would you like that, Luna?” asked the head master.

Luna thought about it and nodded her head for yes.

“However Miss Lovegood, we still must address the issue of why you stabbed Mr. Goyle,” said Dumbledore. “According to all the witnesses, Mr. Goyle asked for your book bag and you gave it to him. After he had gone through it without anyone saying anything, you struck Mr. Goyle. Why did you do it?” he added

The Wrackspurt told me he was going to take my mother’s-” Luna started saying as her right hand subconsciously touched the butterbeer cork necklace around her neck and tears filled her eyes. Luna was bombarded with unwanted images. She saw her mother giving her the necklace, saying it would magically protect her. She saw her mother screaming on the floor. Luna trying to take the necklace off so she could give it back to her and her mother stopping her. Luna was hearing her mother’s last words, and seeing her draw her last breaths. What happened to her was my fault! If my mother had not given me the necklace, she’d be alive today! I killed my mommy! shrieked a voice in Luna’s head. Suddenly, Luna blinked and then blinked again.

“Oh my, it does seem that the Wrackspurt has gotten you this time,” spoke a gentle voice from behind its crooked nose. “Luna, it was not your fault that your mother died. It was the spell that killed her,” Dumbledore assured as he brushed the tears from the side of her cheeks. “I understand now. I will speak to Professors Snape and Flitwick,” added Dumbledore. “You must understand something, Luna. You can’t act upon what the Wrackspurt says,” spoke the older man.

“Wrackspurts don’t lie, do they?” half-sobbed the still shaken Luna.

“Not lie, but just because we think something doesn’t mean we will do it. I once was part of a trial where some bad people had hurt the mother and father of a young boy,” stated Dumbledore. “If a Wrackspurt had visited me while I listened to the testimony, it would have told you that I was going to do the same thing to them,” added Dumbledore. “It is our actions not our thoughts that we must be judged by; do you understand?” Dumbledore explained.

“I think so,” said Luna in a very soft voice.

“So, I will take five points away from Ravenclaw and give you two hours of detention in this office with me on the next two Friday evenings at half past six. You will spend the time learning about training your Wrackspurt. And if anytime remains, I might even teach you how to shoot gobstones,” proclaimed Dumbledore with a smile.