Beautiful, mysterious, wonderful, the perfect drug with which any could be addicted. She was a person whom it was easy to fall in love with. Her steady gaze often left my insides burning.
Often only saw her eccentricites and absurdities. I saw every part of her on the other hand.
Luna. My precious, quirky Luna. Who could make me feel so good by simply letting her eyes on me.
Luna who was wise and accepting, the girl who never forgot a face and made it a point to be friendly. I use to wonder how no one had discovered her first, had had the good fortune to experience her kiss.
My hair was tangled and messy, blood was still flowing from my ear and possibly the back of my head. War raged over Hogwarts. The Death Eaters, the teachers and students, Order members. All of them were out there somewhere, battling.
But none of that mattered to me and it might never again.
She now layed on a make-shift bed in the great hall, her pale face was a mask of serenity. That is, if you ignored the blood caked all across her face.
Once delicate features were now broken and motled. A fragile portrait of lost beauty, smeared with scarlet.
And her arms could no longer be there, not around me. Forever there will be none, with her never again.
Luna, the fair-haired angel of my dreams. Who had owned the best parts of me for such a long time. My lovely Luna, whom nobody could ever apprechiate again. Who would never smile or laugh. In one simple flick green light had been sent flying at random.
Yet it found its mark. Hit it squarly in the chest and sucked the dance out of the eyes. It killed Luna instantly leaving only a shell.
She was dead. Luna Lovegood, dead.
