Harry looked out from behind Luna's eyes, as he gazed up at Hogwarts castle.
It was a week before the school re-opened. The wizarding world coming together to rebuilt it after the destruction of the battle of Hogwarts. Now in his early twenties Harry was ready to see the old place again. The painful memories now somewhat softened, and the happy ones renewed.
The castle threw open it's doors for everyone. A celebration, a week long extravaganza to bring people together heel old wounds and tell old stories.
On hearing that Luna wasn't coming, he'd decided to visit the castle in disguise. They'd exchanged owls, as he'd tried to convince her to come. Another friendly face would always be welcome, and he wanted her there for himself and for her too. But her answer was resolute, she wasn't coming. She just didn't feel up to the attention, the memories for her weren't entirely pleasant and she wanted to move on. Harry understood, and sadly accepted. He certainly knew what she meant.
The public attention after his first vanquishing of Lord Voldemort was still to annoying to bear all day. He knew that his attendance was necessary, and he'd have to attend the Grand Hall, and the feast as himself. But Harry wanted to enjoy himself, to have some peace for quiet exploration. To visit the kitchens, to talk to the ghosts, to the portraits, offer them his thanks.
Luna had felt like the perfect choice for a disguise, the airy blonde was known for being other worldly and any missteps could just be ignored as Luna being Luna. Her replies clearly joyous, as Harry suggested his plan. Confiding in her, his desire for a disguise, and her as the person to provide it.
It was the very next owl that Harry received, that came with a curl of blonde hair.
- - - - -
Returning his gaze from the window to his room in Hogsmeade, Harry double-checked his supply of polyjuice. Enough vials for him to maintain the disguise for almost the entire week. His pocket enchanted to be as big inside as the Weasley tent, or Hermione's handbag.
Taking a deep breath, he steadied his nerves. His attendance would be necessary, his arrival an event. The stairs creaked as Harry descended. The idea once inside, he could swallow the polyjuice and have the freedom of anonymity.
A bag hanging from his shoulder slapped against his thigh as he walked. The invisibility cloak, and Marauder's Map inside it.
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