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"Muggle classrooms," Hermione grumbled, "have maps."
Mssrs. Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail, and Prongs express their deepest regrets that they are unable to draw the world of their time from memory.
Hermione petted one fold of parchment. "I know, it's not your fault." She sighed. "I guess we should feel lucky we aren't stuck so much in the Middle Ages we're learning by copying out of single handwritten tomes chained to pedestals. But still. I do wish they'd get with the 20th century enough to have instructional posters." There'd be so many fewer explosions.
Maybe that was why they didn't bother. Wizards did seem to like their explosions.
Across from her, the twins shared a long look. Then, "You could try the Ravenclaws' library."
She blinked and glanced up at them. "The Ravenclaws' library? The Ravenclaws have their own library? Wait, how do you know?"
Identical sparkling grins, and the two slid around the table to drape their arms over her shoulders amicably. "Well, Professor, it's like this."
"Everybody sneaks into Ravenclaw at some point."
"They don't actually have a password."
"Really arrogant of them."
"They get pranked several times a year."
"Not by us."
"Well, not just by us."
"And yet they think it's just an in-House tradition."
"How to Outsmart Your Peers Without Even Trying."
"And so then they prank themselves."
"Usually really badly."
"You can always tell a Ravenclaw prank from another House's."
"If you aren't a Ravenclaw."
"But we digress."
"What we mean is, no one cares to look further than the common room."
"And the dorms."
"And bathrooms."
"All Houses are the same after all."
"We, of course, know better."
"Check everywhere."
"You never know when you're going to find someplace better to set up your prank."
"Or find inspiration."
"And so we found the Ravenclaw Library."
"Wanna go see?"
Oh Merlin yes. Hermione pulled herself out of the twins' loose grasp. "Hold that thought," she told them. "I have to go borrow something else from Harry. Be right back!" And she bolted.
-0-0-0
"An Invisibility Cloak?!"
"Ickle Harrikins has been holding out on us, Gred."
"That he has, Forge." Gred mock-sniffled. "And after all we've given him."
Hermione lightly smacked his wrist. "Oh, hush. Harry simply has more faith in your ability to completely tear Hogwarts apart than I do."
They made a show of wibbling at her. "... Hermione."
"That's the sweetest thing--"
"--anyone's ever said to us."
"Just get under the Cloak and let's go."
-0-0-0
At the top of an airy, spiraling staircase, drafts of icy November wind gusting past their ankles and ruffling the Cloak's weighted hem, there was a single massive door with a bronze eagle knocker right in the center. The eagle blinked blearily awake, peered at them, then clacked its beak and rasped, "Brothers and sisters I have none, but that man's father is my father's son. Who is that man?"
"The riddler's son," the twin in front said, and the bird inclined its head respectfully as the door opened.
"You cannot be serious," Hermione hissed as they entered Ravenclaw's common room, which was only occupied by three people at opposite ends of the large space. A Wizarding wireless near one pair was playing something cheerful and jazzy, much better for studying than Gryffindor's preferred Weird Sisters rock. The music covered her whispering easily. "That's it?"
"That's it." The twins grinned at her. "You just can't help but break in, right?"
"Wizards are mad," Hermione growled under her breath, letting them pull her along. "They're all mad. Not a drop of common sense between them all..."
As they passed within arm's reach of the lone student, a blonde, barefoot third-year reading on a windowsill, the girl raised her eyes. "Oh," she said dreamily. "The Double-Headed Geanians are back. And they've brought a Fuzzy Librasa with them."
She could see them.
Hermione tensed, but the twins just saluted the girl and tugged Hermione on, while across the room, two older students sniggered.
"Looney's at it again," the boy said. "Go on then, Looney, are the Nargles stampeding too?"
Looney -- which couldn't be the poor girl's real name -- tilted her head. "Of course not. They need nests built for them first."
"Well you go right ahead and do that," the girl -- a prefect! -- told her snidely.
"Mm. I won't need to. Double-Headed Genians love to build Nargle nests. I don't know about the Fuzzy Librasa..." She trailed off thoughtfully, gaze aimed vaguely towards the ceiling, then slid off the windowsill and tucked her book away. "I think I'll go look for my shoes. Good luck with the Nargles." And she drifted out the door, leaving only the two older students snickering nastily in her wake.
Once they snuck into a staircase that curved down, instead of up like Gryffindor's dorm stairs did, and got far enough that they wouldn't be seen, Hermione squeezed herself out from between the twins and swept the Cloak off them all, so she could look them both in the face at once. "Tell me that's not normal," she snapped, pointing back the way they came.
"... For Luna?" one clarified.
"Pretty much, yeah," the other finished.
Hermione sucked in a breath, held it a moment, then exhaled. "Right then," she said tightly. "Right. Once we get this done with, do you feel up to going after those two jerks up there?"
They blinked. Then, one put a hand on her shoulders, pushing her gently, pointedly back and down until she'd taken some six steps around the curve. The other took her other shoulder and turned her around.
The first thing Hermione saw was a massive, sparkling sphere of mist that somehow seemed to be perfectly transparent black, centered on a three-foot-wide floating globe that looked even more vibrant and clear than NASA photos of Earth. Then she picked out a familiar constellation in the mist's sparkles: it was a map of the night sky to match the wizarding globe.
Shelves of books twenty feet high. Instructional posters, ink-drawn hands demonstrating wand movements in real time, then slow motion. Charts of potion ingredients and techniques. Runes. Transfiguration texture and shape references.
Hermione's knees went weak, and the twins scrambled to catch her.
Everything a diligent student could've wanted. Everything a struggling student would've needed. Seamus kept blowing his eyebrows off even now, and just the one chart Hermione could see explained why, explained the slight shift in angle that he needed for his accent. And Neville... How much better would everyone's Potions grades be with these charts right in sight? How many fewer injuries when you could just see the difference between chop and mince, instead of having to guess without ever having cooked in your life? How many fewer accidents in Transfiguration, poor animals with misshapen limbs and teaspouts for heads before McGonagall could fix it?
She swallowed. "Take it all," she said, in a far-away voice unlike any she'd ever known she could do. "Take it all and put it back where it belongs. Then do your worst." Their eyes widened, dawning glee smothering all rationality... and Hermione wasn't wary of it at all, because this was hers, the Weasley twins were hers to aim and fire, her hands for dispensing justice when the system broke. "No one in Ravenclaw escapes. Not even Professor Flitwick." He knew. He had to know about this-- this hoard, this thievery, this sabotage on every other House in Hogwarts that had to have been going on for decades. And he hadn't done anything to fix it.
Wait.
"Except Luna. Leave Luna alone."
The twins steadied her on her feet once more, then lifted her hands and bowed over them in perfect mirror image, play-kissing at the air above her knuckles. "Your wish is our command." Then, with again-mirrored winks, they broke the illusion and began pulling shrunken trunks out of their pockets, spilling them like Legos across the nearest table. "Allow us to show you a neat trick..." Fred said, lifting his wand with a rogueishly charming smirk.
Soon enough, they were all charming books into the tiny trunks like Disney's Merlin, though with a bit less dancing.
-0-0-0
The Great Hall was, once again, spooked silent. This time, though, it was because Ravenclaw's table was completely empty, except for the Beauxbatons students clustered nervously at the far end. Even Flitwick was missing from the High Table, and only Snape seemed to be able to muster anything but worried bewilderment about it. Even then, Snape's unaffected glowering was almost painfully jarring against the rest of the Hall's mood.
Some fifteen minutes into dinner, the Great Hall's doors opened, and Luna wandered in, shoes found but socks still missing. She drifted to a seat in the third-year region of the tables, sat, and began serving herself bouillabaisse.
Hermione watched as Professor Dumbledore made his way down from the dais as quickly as he could without looking like he was rushing, and stopped next to Luna.
"Miss Lovegood?"
Luna smiled calmly up at him. "Good evening, Headmaster. You're developing Wrackspurts, did you know?"
Dumbledore smiled back. "I wouldn't be surprised if I was, dear. Would you happen to know what's become of your Housemates? They all seem to be missing dinner."
She blinked, then looked around the table as if just now realizing it was empty. "Oh." Her smile widened as she peered back up at the Headmaster. "They must still be dealing with the Nargle stampede."
Dumbledore blinked, considered that for a moment, then the blood drained from his face and he ran out the door, wand at the ready.
The Nargle Stampede -- a spate of pranks so severe it took most of the staff half the night to subdue it enough to rescue the House -- became legend before Hermione got up the next morning. And, best of all...
When the Heads of House all came storming into Gryffindor before breakfast, seething with fury and still with their knees on backwards... Hermione Granger became the twins' alibi.