The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Harry knew at once why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded.
-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling, page 185
1
1 September, 1992
Sunlight streamed through the cracked glass of the window to her bedroom, illuminating the room and bringing with it the long anticipated Tuesday morning. The air was warm, but crisp and sweet, that type of air that can only be found at that time between summer and autumn, when you can feel summer fading, like a dream just after waking up. The smell of the sun-warmed garden drifted in through the window she had left open the night before, when she'd stayed up late to make certain she had packed everything.
She woke up, opening her silvery grey eyes, and sat up in her bed. And slowly but surely, a smile overtook her face, as excitement raced through her. She could smell the Gurdyroot tea her father was brewing in the kitchen, along with the dirigible plum oatmeal he would make on her birthday, up early so they could make it to King's Cross station in time for the train. The train she had been waiting to board since the day she received her letter from the owl post. They had been certain it would arrive, she had been showing magic since the age of five, earlier than most, but nonetheless, the arrival of the letter brought with it the same excitement and pride that it brings to all those who receive their letter with the red wax seal and crest.
Luna Lovegood was going to Hogwarts.
.oO0Oo.
She got out of bed to stand in the centre of her bedroom. It was a small, yet airy-feeling with blue walls, books and copies of The Quibbler stacked in piles, and a small potted plant she had been growing sitting on the windowsill.
She turned to reach towards the small table beside her bed and pick up a book, a worn copy of The Hobbit she had been reading. Her mum had loved it, and would read it to her at night before she went to sleep. Her mum had loved all sorts of muggle things, so while most witches and wizards her age had been reading Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump, or the Fair Fountain of Fortune, her mum had read her The Hobbit and Lord of the rings, or Alice in Wonderland. Smiling faintly, she stuck the book in her trunk before latching it tightly shut.
She hurriedly brushed her long, dirty blond hair, got dressed, putting on muggle clothing (purple jeans and a white shirt), along with the necklace she had made with her mother. It had charms made of butterbeer corks, which her mum had told her she'd enchanted them with a spell that would make the wearer of the necklace lucky and keep nargles away. At 8 years old, Luna hadn't believed her, but her mum was the kind of person who could get anyone to believe anything.
Luna fingered her charm lightly, as she wheeled her trunk behind her out her bedroom door. She left the trunk by the top of the spiral staircase and slid down the railing to the kitchen, the way she and her mum would do when she was little.
When she reached the bottom, she hopped off the railing, landing lightly on her feet. Her father was sitting at the small round, wooden table in the kitchen, sipping at his gurdyroot tea, looking over the day's Daily Prophet. "G'morning, dear," Xenophilius Lovegood called out affectionately to his daughter.
"Morning, dad," she replied brightly. "My trunk's ready."
"Right you are," her father said in response. "Wingardium leviosa." he said, swishing and flicking his wand in the direction of the staircase, causing Luna's trunk to float lightly down the stairs, landing neatly besides the table. "There's oatmeal on the stove."
Luna made her way through the cluttered kitchen to the stovetop, where she took a bowl and filled it. She brought her breakfast to the table to sit with her father.
"You have your wand?" he questioned her.
She took it from her trunk and showed it to him in response. Coral and Beechwood, 10 ½ inches long, it fit comfortably in her hand, and gave her a warm sort of sensation when she held it. As she raised it to show her father, a small shower of silver sparkles flew from the tip, landing scattered on the kitchen floor. Her father flicked his wand towards the pile, effortlessly cleaning it up. Luna grinned, watching the sparkles fly through the air before disappearing.
As she sat eating her oatmeal, Luna's father finished reading his paper and, after folding it up and placing it on the kitchen table, walked over to the door and stood beside it.
When Luna finished her breakfast, she placed her bowl in the sink and tucked her wand behind her ear. She picked up the handle of her trunk and wheeled it over to where her father was standing, grabbing a cardigan that had belonged to her mother from a hook on the wall. Even though it had been two years since Pandora Lovegood had died, her possessions were still scattered about the house.
Her father opened the door, letting her go out first and following her, closing the door shut behind them. "Hold tight onto my hand. Don't let go, no matter what." he instructed, taking her trunk.
Luna took her wand from behind her ear and grasped it firmly with one hand, taking her father's hand in her other. "I know dad. Don't worry."
"Alright, see you at King's Cross station." he said, smiling. And with that, they disapparated. Luna felt as if she were being compressed, squeezed into nothingness, when suddenly, it was over. They stood in the crowded train station, between platforms nine and ten. "After you." her father said to her. "I'll bring your trunk." He added, beaming with pride as Luna walked towards the brick wall, closing her eyes at the last second, and walked through it as if it were made of air.
When she opened her eyes, she stood on platform 9 ¾ facing a bright red steam engine. The platform was bustling, young witches and wizards stood talking to each other. Luna was standing besides a red-headed family, looking about in concern. "Where are those two boys?" a red-headed lady asked exasperatedly.
"Don't worry, mum," a red-headed boy piped up.
"Yeah," said another boy, identical to the first. "They'll turn up. We couldn't get rid of ickle Ronniekins if we wanted to."
"And we have. On more than one occasion." said the first gravely.
"Quite frequently, actually." added the second.
"All the time." said the first.
"Stop it you two. They must have boarded already. Now where has your father gone?"
Luna looked away from them, turning around to see her father standing with her trunk. "You'll need to get on the train in a moment, dear." he said to her. "You have everything? Your wand?" he asked her, for the umpteenth time.
"Yes, dad. Don't worry." she said, laughing at her father's constant reminding.
"Alright." he said gruffly. "Well, don't forget to write to your old dad. Tell me if you see a moon frog. Someone told me there was a group living somewhere on the Hogwarts grounds" He hugged her tightly "your mum would be so proud of you." he said, taking her wand from her hand and tucking it back behind her ear. "I love you." he said, kissing the top of her head.
"I love you, too, dad. I'll see you at Christmas." and with one last hug, Luna Lovegood boarded the Hogwarts Express.
