A/N: I don't own Harry Potter. This for Koekie101, love you girl! And Merry Christmas!
Born this way
Sometimes Luna wondered if she wouldn't be treated better if she acted normally. But then she would remember that normality didn't exist. Normality was simply those things that a group of people did, similarly, and they branded that as the norm. Cannibalism was once in the norm – that thought made her a tad green, though.
. . . flashback . . .
"Come on, Luna, dear."
"What is it, Mummy?"
"Why are you wearing that? Last time you said you didn't like that trousers." Mrs. Lovegood motioned the pair of pants her daughter was wearing. Luna was eight years of age, and already a bit of an oddball. She made Mrs. Lovegood think of a fairy, a sprite, the way she flitted from room to room, with dirty blonde hair and her airiness. She was an airy fairy. Even more so, she was her mother's airy fairy.
"Everyone's wearing it, mummy." Luna whined.
"But you don't like it, do you?"
"No… but Ginny loaned me hers…"
"Luna, love, never fall into the crowd."
"What does that mean?" Luna's innocent voice asked.
"It means that you should never, ever, ever, let anyone tell you what to do."
"Oh, okay. Does this mean I don't have to eat the carrots?"
Mrs. Lovegood laughed. "You're my perfect little girl, Luna love, never change. And no, you may not skip out on your veggies."
"I won't mummy, I promise." Then the words from the vegetables struck her. "I don't like carrots, mummy! I don't want to eat it!"
"You don't have much of a choice, dear."
"But I'd rather have some pudding." Luna mumbled.
. . .Flashback ends. . .
Indeed, normality was highly overrated, Luna thought as she skipped to the Great Hall. A term that has been widely debated, and it's chosen by people who were determined to avoid anything supposedly abnormal. What was wrong with those people? Why did they shun anything that was out of the norm?
Well, it's not Luna's problem. She skipped forward and sat down. She hadn't missed the pudding!
She spotted the carrots. Without thinking she reached for the carrots. And her mother was proud of her for being who she was. For not falling into the crowd, for not listening to the others.
Her mother was still looking at her, after all, the ones that love us never really leave us.
. . .