Luna's Love is for good

Chapter 2: Dreams

The owl hooted softly. Hedwig was a beautiful bird, Harry thought. It was only a shame that Uncle Vernon took a dislike to her, firstly because of the racket she made, but mainly because she was associated by wizards. As Uncle Vernon knew that owls delivered letters in the wizarding world, he was wary of letting Hedwig out lest Harry used her to send letters to his friends. This, he did frequently over the holidays without much problem, ever since two years ago, when his Uncle had finally admitted defeat at the noise that Hedwig was making when cooped up. Harry was bent low over his desk, a quill in his hands, ink pot by his side, poised in thought. He dipped the quill and wrote at the top of the roll of parchment lying on his desk 'Dear Ron.' Harry was unsure how best to express these words, even though in practice, what he was telling Ron should be simple.

Ever since Harry had arrived back at Number 4, Privet Drive (to meet the usual minimal response from his aunt and uncle,) he had been lost in thought. His feelings, recently, were beginning to confuse him. No longer upset about his falling out with Cho, he had slowly felt inclined towards Ginny Weasley. These feelings were feeble, taking into account that she was already going out with Dean Thomas (she had said so herself on the train journey.) After all, Ginny seemed attractive, but there was little other to it, Harry thought. He had always thought that looks mattered most in the girl that he desired most. With Cho Chang, he had been right in guessing his own philosophy, he had gone for looks. Soon, after only their first date, they had ended up in a row, leaving Harry utterly bewildered about the mannerisms of girls, feeling sorry for himself and listening to Hermione Granger telling him what he should and shouldn't have done. Cho had been upset about the death of Cedric Diggory, who had been murdered in Harry's fourth year. Harry had been sympathetic, but Cho had sought so much reassurance, Harry was feeling pressured while not really wanting to talk about him.

Cho was living proof that looks weren't the first thing to go for. But then again, he knew Ginny. They were close to friends, she had been in the DA with Harry, and she had spent holidays with her at the Burrow. He knew her by now, and he still didn't feel drawn to her. It was the invitation to visit Luna that made Harry wonder. Luna had an odd personality, and an odd appearance. Harry had joined the others, initially, in keeping a distance and remaining utterly bewildered when she discussed ridiculous theories and articles from her fathers newspaper, The Quibbler. But only last term, when she had fought along side him, fought the Death Eaters, and come out alive, had he wondered.

And seeing her pinning a note to the noticeboard, asking for things that other people had stolen back. Other people stole from her, just because she was different. They called her names. At first, Harry had been merely sympathetic (but had nonetheless felt closer all the same,) it was only lately that his feelings had started to intensify. She had a strange dress sense, and could easily have something to be ridiculed about. Harry didn't care.

Luna had been through experiences that he had, too. She could see Thestrals, the skeletal, winged beasts at Hogwarts, that could only be seen by someone who has witnessed death. Luna had lost her mother, so had Harry (admittedly, Luna's father was still alive where Harry's was not.) And Luna had represented aspects of many houses, that made Harry surprised that she hadn't sat under the Sorting Hat for ten minutes. She was brave, she had fought valiantly against the Death Eaters. She was intelligent - perhaps with some debatable theories - but had her wits about her all the same. And she was loyal, she had come with Harry when prospects had looked bleak for Sirius, she had eagerly taken part in the DA, she had been a good friend.

Harry would soon have to face up to the fact that he was feeling attracted to Luna. Whatever she looked like, however she acted. It was these thoughts that made him wonder how on Earth he could tell Ron in a letter that he would soon visit Ottery St. Catchpole. After some deliberation, he dipped the quill in the ink pot and began to write.

"Dear Ron,

Just wanted to let you know that Luna Lovegood invited me over for a visit in the summer holidays. I probably won't stay there, so I was wondering if I could stay at the Burrow afterwards, if it wouldn't be too much trouble for you and the family? I'm planning to catch the Knight Bus to Ottery St. Catchpole, I should be able to find you from there. If you're fine with me staying over, send back any details with Hedwig - if you use Errol again, you may just finish him off.

Harry."

Folding the parchment and slipping it into the envelope, he sealed it shut and opened Hedwig's cage. She fluttered out and came to land on Harry's shoulder, still hooting merrily.

"Here, Hedwig, can you take this to Ron?" Hedwig gave Harry an affectionate nibble of the finger, and held the letter in her talons. Waiting for Harry to open the window, she flew off into the night. Looking at the clock by his bed, he saw that it was already half-past eleven. Pulling on his pyjamas, he slipped into bed, and was asleep after ten minutes.

He was standing by the edge of the Quidditch Pitch. He was ready to play, but Luna was the only one in the crowd. He swung onto his Firebolt, kicked off into the air, and suddenly his broomstick had turned into feathers, Harry plummeted to the floor. Luna stood up, she was laughing, laughing at Harry. She shouted something about a Blibbering Humdinger, and walked off. Staring all around at him were his Quidditch team, yelling at him for missing the snitch, he had forgotten to play. Angelina Johnson, the Quidditch Captain, stepped forwards with a beaters bat, and made to pummel him on the head ...

"OUCH!" Harry had banged his forehead against the end of his bed while stretching involuntarily. Hoping that he had not woken his uncle, he tried to get back to sleep. He had already forgotten about the dream.

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