As Yet Untitled
Prologue
Luna Lovegood awoke early that day to find that nothing had mysteriously disappeared from her trunk. She even managed to find her knee high polka dot socks first time without scrambling under beds for at least half an hour before giving up and going to lessons sockless. Today, however, she could put on her socks with fuss, and it was amazing how happy socks could make Luna. She felt like skipping her way through the Ravenclaw common room and hugging all her housemates for not hiding her socks this morning. Luckily for Luna though she had second thoughts about it when she realised that they probably wouldn't appreciate being awoken at 7am on a Saturday. Instead Luna decided to proceed with her original plan which was to visit her owl, Nicodemus, and feed him some owl nuts.
Luna tightly wrapped her cloak about her shoulders. It was battered and tatty, a bit faded with age and good use, but Luna wouldn't change it for all the cloaks in the world. One could still make out the thousands of tiny multicoloured stars that her mother had painstakingly stitched all over the dark material. it was one of the few things left that Luna had of her mother's that hadn't mysteriously disappeared into thin air.
Bracing herself against the harsh winter wind, Luna stepped outside and delighted in the sound of the newly fallen snow crunching beneath her sock-toasted feet. Quickly she made her way up the staircase to the owlry, taking in the smell of fresh sawdust and owl feathers.
"Nicodemus? Where are you?" She called softly as her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the tower, and she saw an owl making his way to sit on her arm. Nicodemus was a tawny owl who had been her best friend since childhood, a gift from her father when her mother had died. He was a lovely reddish brown colour that gleamed in the light, his dark eyes were large and full of wisdom, and his beautiful face was framed by a circle of dark feathers. As a friend, Nicodemus was clever and sympathetic, he always knew just the right hoot to make, be it an affirmative or a negative depending on what Luna was saying. One look at this pair and you could tell that they both held a deep affection for each other.
"Oh Nicodemus, what would I ever do without you?" Luna asked as she gently stroked his head and breathed in the owl's comforting scent. Luna could breathe that scent forever, it was warm and musky and meant home to her, she could just shut out the world and stay tucked away in a little nook with Nicodemus and his scent.
"I just wish we could live in a little cocoon until the world wakes up to itself. Why do I feel like I am the only one that sees the futility of what everyone else considers so important?" Luna continued her ramblings to the little owl, quite unaware of the pair of human eyes that were studying her from the shadows, listening to that soft, soothing voice. He gazed admiringly over her long blond hair that cascaded down her slender back, past her waist and over her gently rounded hips. It was an unusual pale blond, almost silvery, platinum blonde he supposed. He was mesmerised by its luminosity, even in this light it glowed gently. He watched as she turned around, still unaware of her prescence, and returned Nicodemus to his perch. Her face was pale and pure, with large honest eyes. Riveted was the only was to describe how he felt looking at this fairy nymph. That's what she reminded him of, he realised in astonishment, a woodland nymph. Her waif-like figure looked ethereal and fragile with her hair flowing freely around her body. He suddenly imagined her dancing in the forest, naked under the light of a full moon with other fairytale creatures. What struck him most though was how artless she was in nature, totally without pretence, just as honest and pure as the day she was born. To him that was a very rare and very exotic quality, one that he had lost a long time ago.
"Well Nicodemus, I'll see you this evening with a letter for my father if you're not too tired." Luna gave him an affectionate kiss on the beak and left the owlry. Her admirer stepped out the shadows to watch her retreating form move elegantly back to the main hall. "Well Twilight," he said to his own owl, "this is an interesting development." The Little Owl on his shoulder hooted gently in apparent agreement.