Loony
I know what they call me behind my back.
(And sometimes to my face)
Loony. Loony Lovegood.
So what if I am?
Father always told me to just ignore it.
That I was a better person.
That I was in Ravenclaw for a reason.
Who
were they to judge me?
My butter beer cork necklace.
My radish earrings.
Gifts from my dead mother.
Oh I'll see her again someday.
After
all, you heard the voices behind that black curtain, didn't
you?
You heard the wind whispering to the trees
The chatter of the birds in those trees, telling each other what they had just heard
You heard – but were you listening?
Oh I hear their whispers, their stifled laughter.
I pretend not to notice, I don't want the pity of those few who are.
I just want their friendship.
But who are they?
The ones whose whispers follow me everywhere I go?
Who torment me in my dreams?
Who are they to judge me when they don't really even see me?
One day I'll set some Nargles on the lot of them.
And then they'll be sorry.
They drive me absolutely loony.