The portrait network was misbehaving.
That's what Professor McGonagall said, sternly adjusting her glasses as three Headmistresses argued behind her from the same frame. The portraits weren't simply gossiping too loudly or offering unasked-for advice—they were passing along feelings. Whole impressions. Half-truths wrapped in whimsy and strange longing.
And somehow, Hallie Potter was the center of it.
"Miss Potter," McGonagall said with the quiet voice she reserved for things that involved unexpected magical consequences, "have you recently performed any charms or enchantments related to emotion, memory, or... ahem... romantic affection?"
Hallie tried to keep her blush below critical mass. "Not intentionally. I mean, I did cast a modified Amica Lux last week and it, er... bonded to my emotional aura."
"Your emotional aura?" McGonagall blinked.
"She's been glowing," Padma added helpfully from beside her. "Literally. Her robes have been doing this fluttering, radiant thing when Luna's nearby."
"Just slightly," Hallie mumbled.
McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. "Very well. Fifty points to Ravenclaw for charmcraft innovation. And you're restricted from casting unsupervised emotional magic for the next fortnight."
Hallie nodded, embarrassed and also vaguely flattered.
That night, she found Luna already waiting at their usual spot beneath the Astronomy Tower. The moon hung heavy and low, dusted with clouds. The air smelled like cold stone and wind-blown leaves.
"You heard?" Luna asked, her expression unreadable.
"About the portraits?"
"No. About the robes fluttering."
Hallie groaned and sat beside her, hiding her face in her hands. "Yes. Apparently I'm a walking feelings-broadcast beacon."
Luna leaned gently against her side. "I think it's adorable."
"You would."
"Of course I would."
They sat in silence for a while, the stars above winking conspiratorially.
Then Luna said, "Would you like to see something strange?"
Hallie peeked at her. "Always."
The Room of Requirement appeared only when summoned with intention.
Luna took her hand and walked three times past a blank wall. Hallie felt her heart pound a little harder each step.
A door appeared.
Inside was a softly lit chamber with cushions, floating candles, and mirrors showing shifting constellations. In the center was a pool of silvery water that reflected the moon, even though there was no sky above.
"This isn't the Room of Requirement," Hallie whispered. "This is... something else."
Luna smiled. "It shows up for people like us."
Hallie turned to her, curious. "Like us?"
"People who don't quite fit the stories," Luna said. "People who feel things differently. Who weren't supposed to find each other—but did anyway."
Hallie didn't speak.
She reached for Luna's hand again, gentle and warm.
And this time—no portraits watching, no floating insects, no singing charms—the moment didn't skip past.
She leaned in.
Luna did too.
And they kissed.
Softly. Carefully. Just once.
A brushing of lips, full of questions and answers both. Not rushed. Not uncertain.
Real.
When they pulled back, Hallie smiled through tears she didn't quite understand.
Luna touched her cheek. "See? The universe didn't interrupt us this time."
"No," Hallie whispered, laughing quietly. "I think it wanted this to happen."
They sat by the pool a little longer, hands tangled, stars shifting quietly above.
And for the first time in her new life, Hallie felt not just peace or joy—
She felt chosen.
Not by prophecy.
Not by magic.
But by a girl with moonlight in her smile and hands that always reached for hers first.