Disclaimer: insert bored tone I do not even DREAM of owning Harry Potter (Why get my hopes up?).
Memories of Luna Lovegood
The entire Wizarding population has always taken the liberty to call Harry Potter my favorite student. Whenever I was asked about this I just shook it off and shrugged, but my lungs would always be ready to burst from holding in so much laughter. I liked Harry, of course. He tried to be a good, well behaved boy, despite the fact that he was constantly surrounded with dark magic and Voldemort. He was never once tempted for power or glory. Harry Potter was, forgive me, quite a normal boy. He just wanted to live just like any other wizard: do well in school, play quiditch, eat chocolate frogs, laugh with friends, and explore Hogwarts. Doesn't everyone?
But, alas, oddity has always intrigued me. So, my favorite student was decidedly...different. She never even tried to fit in once. I admired that about her. She didn't care what anybody thought of her: how she talked; how she looked; how much she read; and, most importantly, her strange beliefs... You might be catching on now. In fact, if you are very familiar with all of Harry Potter's generation, then you should know exactly who I am talking about. Yes, Luna Lovegood was a strange girl. One day, after a staff meeting, I came back up to my office, and there she was. She was feeding Fawkes tangerines. She smiled, said hello, and went straight back to pouring all of her love life to my phoenix. He didn't mind: he made a very good listener for Luna, and besides, he never got any other visitors. It soon became a ritual for the two of them: Luna would come up to my office every Tuesday with a bagful of Tangerines. Fawkes simply loved her. She was the only one who was allowed to pet his left shoulder blade, which had been severely injured three years prior (I, to this day, am still reprimanded with a sharp peck, whenever my hand goes within an inch of said shoulder).
She had been sorted into Ravenclaw, though sometimes I am quite sure that she was supposed to be in Gryffindore, instead. Once, I almost convinced myself to ask her if she would like to have the Sorting Hat have another go. Unfortunately, I then spotted a cluster of Lemon Drops barely visible from under a stack of books, and I lost my focus on the matter. Her father himself had been in Ravenclaw, but her mother was in Gryffindore.
Her eating habits have always worried me. She ate like a bird – no, less than a bird! A couple Sunflower Seeds here and there, then maybe some applesauce, and one miniscule slice of banana bread was a sufficient breakfast for her, while all around her, her peers were greedily gorging down bacon, eggs, cereal, waffles, pancakes, muffins. Sometimes, while I musing about this, staring at her, Minerva would follow my gaze to see what I was looking at, and she would share a concerned glance with me. But then again, we both knew that she was probably aware of where the kitchens were. I know for a fact that she was not anything along the lines of anorexic, bulimic, etc. She just ate lightly, that's all, like a very small bird.
As I observed her, and instructed all of the staff to keep a close eye on her, I found out that she was in deep depression, and trying to kill herself. I was both surprised and un-surprised: she put on such a cheerful, care-free front, and yet she could count her only friends on one hand. I had Ginny Weasly talk to her, to be her friend. Not that long after, I began to notice that Luna had started to fancy her new friend. Sadly, Ginny remained oblivious and was still crushing on Harry. Then, when they were in fourth year, they decided to take their friendship up a notch, and it slowly turned into love. As their romance unfolded like a cloth napkin before my eyes, something snapped. They had a big fight. It was obvious, as Ginny no longer went to sit at the Ravenclaw table, and vice versa. They were no longer speaking to each other. It pained me to see them like this, and I admit, it made me want to cry. Okay, okay! I did cry. But what else was I supposed to do?
One Tuesday evening, when Luna was feeding Fawkes his scheduled tangerines, I talked with her. She spilled everything: dreams, missing her mum, the break-up with Ginny, homework, her dad getting old and just plain life. I let her sit and cry long into the night, and when I saw that she had to work to keep her eyes open, I sent her off to bed. But before she went, she gave me a hug of thanks. I had never smelt anything like it. It smelled of the dew on the morning grass, Fuji apples, seashells, and polished wood.
So, Harry Potter was a good student...but not nearly as good as Luna Lovegood.
The End.
So, did you like it? A plot bunny just hopped right into my head. I wasn't even thinking about Luna. Please review. :)
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