I Didn't Count The Hours
I do not own Harry Potter.
This is dedicated to my best friend, who is Luna Lovegood's biggest fan. Thanks for showing me Harry Potter, Joely.
I walked the corridors of Hogwarts, alone. I studied, alone. And I dreamed, alone. People call me Loony. I didn't exactly no what that meant, but from their tones I knew it was impolite. Was I really crazy? Were their insults true?
But I was always knew I was different. I dressed differently, believed differenty, and dreamed differently. Maybe it was because I had spent the last three years without a mother. She had died when I was nine, but the scar on my heart still bled furiously as if it was yesterday.
This was my second day at Hogwarts and I was getting a lot of odd glances silently saying "She's weird". Whispers followed me everywhere I went as soon as I was sorted into Ravenclaw. Maybe it was the miss-match knee high socks or the pineapple headband I had on today. I heard someone say I wasn't smart enough to be a Ravenclaw, and that I belonged in Hufflepuff.
Everyone said Hogwarts was great. Even the Weasley's, who lived near me and who I occasionally visited. But I disagreed. I almost wish I could go home. But Christmas Vacation was still weeks away.
I watch as Ginny, who is at her second day at Hogwarts as well, pass by me without a simple greeting. As if we didn't grow up best friends and I didn't play and annoy her brothers with her. She was being followed around by some other girls in her dorm, the others who had been sorted into Gryffindor. Already popular. Sometimes I wished I could be that why.
More rude glares follow me and I put my head down, blindly guiding myself. With Hogwart's twisting staircases and hallways, I was guessing that I was going to be lost soon, but ignored the fact. At the moment, I really didn't care. The corridors start to empty as the mad rush to reach classes on time ends. I've realize that my feet have taken me to a door with a sign on it saying, Out of Order. Ignoring this, I push it open.
Inside I find a rather old bathroom, which looks declined and unkept. Then a sound carries to my ears and I listen intently. Someone in here is sobbing their heart out. Exactly what I came here to do. Feeling that I shouldn't impose on this person's misery, I turned to leave. But a voice stopped me before my hand even reached the handle.
"W-Who's there?" I heard a girl's voice, probably not much older than I.
"I'm Luna," I respond, not sure if I should say my last name.
Then one of the stall doors open, squeaking as its rusty hinges protest. She stepped, well, rather floated out from behind the door. I had been talking to a ghost, and not the prettiest ghost might I say.
"Did y-you come to m-make fun of me? Like t-the rest of them?" she said, taking deep breaths as she tried to stop the flow on tears of her transluscent face.
"Not at all. I came here to escape from everyone else too."
"So y-you aren't g-going to throw things a-at me?"
"No."
"What are you going to do then?" the girl asked, finally gaining contol of herself.
"Maybe watch wackspurts," I said, pulling my spectrospecs out of my book bag and putting them on. I looked around and saw that there wasn't very many in here. I sat down on the floor, cross-legged.
"What are wackspurts?" asked the girl, coming over and sitting next me while wiping her tears away.
"They are very tiny creatures that are invisible to human eyes except for with these," I tapped my special glasses. "They enter through your ears and make your brain go all fuzzy."
"Oooo," said the ghost girl, admiring them, whatever she had been crying about was forgotten.
"Would you like to try them on?" I asked politely, duffed them off my head and held the glasses out to her.
"I-I-I CAAAAN'T!" she yelled, a new waterfall of tears streamed down her face. To my surprise and utter dismay, she plunged into the nearest toilet, splashing the floor.
I waited for several minutes, maybe fifteen, but nothing changed. All I could hear were terrible, macbre sobs gurgled out from inside the toilet. Silently, I stood and brushed off my robes. With a creak, I opened the door with the Out of Order sign and entered into the deserted hall. I strode along, and no one, not even grumpy Mrs. Norris, came to seek me out. No friends running around, skipping class, trying to locate me and make sure I was okay. No one. I was alone.
Words whispered into my mind like evil breezes, taunting and teasing my brain; things I had heard been gossiped about me just this morning...
"Did you see her? What a freak!"
"Loony, Loooony Lovegood!"
"Eww. No wonder she's in Hufflepuff!"
I don't know why, I don't know how, but with my eyes squinted shut against the blaring, burning words, I ran. Thankfully, I didn't run into any walls, and I didn't trip.
I was running. Just running. Away from the voices. Away from the accusing laughter. The snide looks and odd glances.
I stopped. I opened my eyes. Fresh air raced into my lungs. Birds chirped. I had made it outside, to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Collasping on the cold, damp grass, I gasped for breath.
Who was I? Was I really what they said I was? A freak, a misfit? Just another desperate girl cast into the brutal, cruel world? I had been torn; ripped at, and toyed with for so long. On the edge, in a world entirely my own. I didn't belong; I didn't fit in.
A single drop rolled down my cheek, blurring my vision of the sun-kissed leaves above me.
I shut my eyes.
And I never wanted to open them again.
It was peaceful here. A soft ind pulled at my long flowing hair, and blew the tears away.
I didn't count the hours, I just let them pass around me.
"Miss Lovegood? Miss Lovegood!" A crisp voice called out to me; Professor McGonagall had come searching for me.
I didn't reply, I didn't answer.
I was done.
To Joely: I don't know what it is I did, but I want you back. I'm sorry if I'm not obsessed with the same things you are, right now. But I thought our friendship went deeper than a book and movie series. I told you secrets, that I've never told anyone before. I opened my heart and deepest desires to you, and I feel as if you've slammed the door shut. There is a bleeding scar, that can only be stitched back together by your trust and talented hands. I have written stories, books, and pages of FanFiction, words after words, but now...now I am speechless. You don't have to respond, you can even ignore this. Just, let me know what you decide. I wish I had you back, Padfoot.