What it costs to be kind
Luna Lovegood sensed the girl before she had even appeared over the crest of the hill. She was walking purposely and directly towards the small cottage wherein Luna sat; wherein Luna trembled. Only friends knew where she lived, and this was not someone she neither knew nor even cared an ounce for. Something was definitely wrong.
No one had come to visit her since Blaise's funeral, and that had been 2 years ago. It was nice to know that people cared, Luna had previously sarcastically thought, but now she didn't bother with anger because it was always better to forgive and forget. Usually.
Luna pulled herself out of those thoughts; she would not get let herself get angry at her friends, she wouldn't. She mustn't. She could…No! Focus on the girl.
She was coming up to the gate now, that kind of old creaky one that-you're-almost-certain-will-fall-apart-when-you-push-it, but-it-won't. It bordered the edges of the property, supposedly keeping out any unwanted pests, but the girl must've thought that she was an exception.
Stowing her needle-point into a crimson pouch, Luna hurried to hide behind the curtain beside the entrance. She clung tightly to the cloth, and peered out. The girl was nowhere to be seen. Yet as she released a sigh of relief, a voice sounded behind her.
"I want some tea". Luna started and tripped on the curtain, causing her to fall face down before the girl. She didn't dare look up.
"Do you have a kettle?" it asked, cocking her head to one side like a bird about to strike. Luna didn't say anything, and although she promised herself not to, a little something called curiosity caused her to glance up at the girl.
The first thing that struck Luna was the girl's eyes; they were Slytherin green, garnished with little speckles of gold. She didn't think that she would have to come across that colour ever again, not after Hogwarts. The names she had been called, the things those people had done to her; Luna didn't want to remember any of it. But now, seeing it again, she couldn't think of anything else.
"Well?" it demanded, shaking its head and glaring down at Luna. "Don't make me ransack the place, I just want some tea…orrrr….a biscuit would be nice as well". And with that, the girl casually strolled towards the direction of the kitchen. Luna watched her go; she seemed so calm and relaxed, not at all concerned about the fact that she just scared the knickers off a 30 year old woman.
Soon enough, a loud clattering arose from the kitchen, accompanied with a trail of many words that Luna would rather not have heard for the rest of her lifetime.
...
It had taken the girl 20 minutes to figure out how to work the kettle, not like Luna had been counting; she was still too scared to leave the room to discover how banged up her kitchen would be. Unfortunately, she knew she would have to get up at some point so why not do like Blaise always said, carpe diem-seize the day.
Don't think about him Luna thought. What if it's possible that that girl read minds? Speaking of which, how old is she, I wonder? Yet for this Luna would have to properly go into the kitchen and have another look, which didn't seem too promising as she was currently propped up against the sofa with no intention of moving. Not yet anyway.
Luckily, or unluckily (depending on how one looks at it), she didn't have to wait long before the girl emerged from the kitchen; though she was being followed by several hovering assortments, one of which was distinctly Luna's favourite cookie jar. She had hidden this away into the heart the kitchen to stop herself from gorging to death on the little buggers, but somehow the girl must've found it. Luna couldn't picture what her kitchen must look like, since the girl had found the jar that Luna had taken so many measures into hiding; probably like what would happen if Godzilla walked into the kitchen of Barefoot Contessa. Not good.
Snapping herself out of her thoughts was the girl, who was fussing over the platters of cake and tea cups, attempting to waft them all down onto the table although they didn't seem to be cooperating much. Luna debated whether she should help and tell the girl that it was a simple wingardium leviosa spell and shouldn't she have learnt that at school already and what were they teaching them at Hogwarts these days, but then she remembered that bad feeling she had before the girl appeared. Luna kept still and put her curiosity aside.
Once the girl had managed to get at least some of the apparently "key" assortments onto the rather small table in front of Luna, she dropped her hand-thus causing all the other "unworthy" plates and pots to drop onto the floor. Hard. The crash of cutlery and spillage of hot tea startled Luna, so much so that she let out a cry. The plates had completely smashed themselves into thousands of shards upon impact (there was no way she could put them back together without the use of magic); the pots had blown upon so much so that there was now the aftermath of a volcanic eruption between the two sofas. Tea had been thrust out of nozzles to splatter Luna's favourite daffodil-pattern-covered armchair, as well as the entire mass of the rug that she and Blaise had chosen together at John Lewis to cover up that suspicious stain in the wood. Again, Luna had to take a deep breathe to control her emotions at the thought of Blaise and the girl and how angry she really ought to be. And through all this, the girl had continued to arrange the tea cups and plates that had actually made it onto the table.
"Earl Grey, please. Oh, and just a pinch of sugar," Luna said unconsciously (still not fully awake from her thoughts of the damage just done). As soon as the words had been fully spoken though, Luna immediately woke up from her thoughts. And glanced at the girl. And wanted to hide.
The girl, (what else could she call her?), was looking at her with the most peculiar expression that Luna had seen in quite a while. It was a look that…wait, no…yes. Yes, it was the face that people had always made when they saw her daydreaming or reciting poems from the books that kind Aunt Somewhat of Somewhere had given her for her 11th birthday, or something or other. And yet…Luna had also seen that smirk-like-grin-like-pained expression on someone else. On something else. But she couldn't quite picture who.