As I stand here, on Platform 9 and 3/4, I think back to the time when I was headed off to Hogwarts for the first time. My father was there to send me off- oh, how I loved him back then. It had only been a year and a half since my mother had died, so I was still quite shook up over that.

I think back to the Sorting, when I was placed in Ravenclaw. That night, my first night there, I was introduced to the topic of young Harry Potter. Of course I knew who he was- the only person to ever have survived the Avada Kedavra curse, the one who brought about Voldemort's downfall the first time. No one could tell me what he looked like, only that he was in his second year at Hogwarts- but I knew I had to meet him someday.

I remember the summer before my third year, finally getting to see Harry, as he was walking with Ron and Hermione. It really was love at first sight for me; I never got to meet him, though, due to the Death Eater attack.

I remember my fourth year… the year that I first met Harry, the year I joined the DA under Harry's guidance. I learned so much from him. And I grew to love him more.

I think about my fifth year- how sad I was that the DA wasn't forming back up. What I said was true- the DA was my first chance at ever making friends. 'Cause let's face it- people went out of their way to avoid Loony Luna Lovegood. I remember fighting alongside him during the Death Eaters' attack on Hogwarts. All that time, I grew to love him more.

I remember my sixth year… I was so crushed that Harry didn't return to Hogwarts, so I could continue seeing him. That was the year I finally had gotten up the courage to tell him I loved him- and he wasn't even there. I remember teaming up with Ginny and Neville, defying the Carrows' orders from the secrecy of darkness. All that time, I never stopped thinking about Harry… the only person I'd ever loved.

I remember the day Harry sent me an owl with the news that he and Ginny had just gotten engaged. I tried to be happy for them, I really did. But my sorrow overtook me, and I cried my heart out for days after that.

I think about the day my father died, trying to finally catch a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. I found new tears to cry, but all I could think about was Harry- how much I wanted to see him, to have him cry with me.

And now, here I am- on Platform 9 and 3/4. It's become a ritual of sorts for me to go to King's Cross station every year to watch the Hogwarts students board the Express. It gives me time to remember.

But this year was different. This year, I saw him again.

He was walking with his three children, two of whom, I soon found out, were headed to Hogwarts that year; the other still had a year to go. With him was a red-headed lady; she was beautiful, and I was sure Harry knew it just as well as everyone else did.

"Harry!" I yelled, but to no avail; the noise of the crowd swallowed my anxious cries whole.

I tried again: "Harry, Ginny! It's me, Luna!" Still, no answer. So, I resign myself to just watching.

Later, another pair of familiar faces walk up to Harry and Ginny, and the four begin to chat animatedly. Ron Weasley had ended marrying Hermione Granger, and their two children were attending Hogwarts for their first year, also.

I try waving them over, to talk to them, but they're absorbed in their own worlds. So I stand there, watching.

The rest of the day was a blur to me; I didn't care about much, because the man I once loved didn't remember me at all. He had his Ginny, and I had… no one. True, I am engaged to Newt Scamander's grandson, but I don't care. I used to love him, but not anymore. We… don't have anything.

We don't have what Harry and I had- or should I say, what I wanted Harry and I to have. I'm still not sure to this day if he ever loved me as much as I loved him.

So I stand, here on Platform 9 and 3/4, alone again. This time, however, the loneliness is truly unbearable. Back then, I wanted to be accepted by people. Now, though, I've lost my first love- I've honestly ceased to care.