Disclaimer: I have JKR locked up in my basement and she gave me the rights. (Well, I can dream, right?)
Okay, wanted to mention: I got this idea while reading Rakasha's work. The story was called "Butterbeer Caps," and it happens to be a collection of Luna Lovegood drabbles. So while I take credit for this little drabble, I don't take credit for the thought...dammit I don't own anything!!!
I see myself in her. She is teased mercilessly by the others of her age. She is in love with a boy who will never notice her, she grew up in an uncouth household. She has some friends, but no close companions.
And yet, she is completely different. My hair is black, my coloring pale. She is blonde and scraggly, her skin no paler than average. She is always meticulously clean, though many assume she doesn't take care of herself; Fidelius himself mentioned that of all his students, she's the strangest and possibly most unhealthy. Idiotic, shortsighted man.
Far more important than our different appearances, she is a young, kind, good witch. I am a broken-down man who is only on the side of "good" because it may someday lead to my death.
I pray to any existing deity that the young witch I give detention to at least twice a month, just to make sure she remains uninjured, does not die in the fight for peace.
I never, never had a professor who cared about my well-being. I give her my protection, though she doesn't know it, not because I want to change my own reputation, not because I see her as more than a student. I give her my protection because she is in need. I give her my protection because I see my own childhood in her.
A/N: Reviews?