Author's Note: Ha, that one review made me shine. Voot voot! Keep reviewing
kiddies.
(I don't own anything but a cat. Don't sue kthnxbai)
Ron takes my hand; I can see my pale eyes from inside his. "Luna...I love..."
Ron pokes the side of my head and everything turns white. I choke, lifting my face from the pillow. Damn.
Cho glares, her tiny feet tapping up and down, up and down until I moan groggily. "'Morning, Sleeping Beauty. Did you have a nice rest?" I shrug, because even I know Cho's I'm-going-to-strange-you tone of voice when I hear it. "Padma is waiting in the Common Room with the duster." She hisses, but I just flip over to my back. Too bad, Queen Cho. She snorts, flipping her hair like drama queen contestant number two, and walks out.
Deciding to walk out on my once in a lifetime chance to serve the one I worship, Cho, except not, I pay Padma a galleon and decide to watch the gryffindor quidditch match. If seeing fine men fly around on broomsticks isn't entertainment, I don't know what is. I slide next to Hermione in the stands, shoving my hands underneath me to keep them from wrapping around her neck, fatally. "Hello, Hermione." I say politely, adding my wide-eyed crazy look for effect. Too bad she doesn't realize my gaze is straight at Ron. I don't figure out I'm still on earth until a cold tone reaches my poor, frozen ears. "Hello.Luna" Hermione reports to me, as if she would rather be next to that dog I'm always hearing about. Fluff or something like that.
Ron reached for a star, wrapping it up in wrapping paper of the moonlight and tossing it to Hermione. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her kiss it and hug it to her heart. I want to show Hermione my present, dinner a la scrambled. I continue to watch, catching more stars being chucked my way with only my eyes, dreaming of the day I'd have a star in the palm of my hand. Ron tosses something, which to me looks like a harkensnouch, to someone, bur I'm only paying attention to him. Time passes by, and Ron only seems to get cuter, but my fun is done when Harry calls the practice over. Hermione squeaks and stands, Ron flies over, and their lips magnetize.
I turn away, only to find Harry with a grin on his face. "So, how did you like our practice, Luna?" he questions, but I come up with some stupid excuse for my absent mindedness, including the newest issue of The Quibbler. He shrugs, with a frown matching mine, because I can still see the couple making sure their lips can glue together. I walk past Harry, unsure of where I'm going until the hard wood turns to grass under my shoes. A hand reaches out onto my shoulder, sending sparks down my spine. Could it be?
"Oh, hello Harry Potter." I sigh, once turning around. As soon as I meet his eyes, I regret it, because that was an emotion I saw in Ron's eyes when he looked at Hermione... love. "Err, Luna, I sort of wanted to ask you something..." Harry replied, wincing slightly. "Shoot." I retorted, twirling my hair in a distraction. Please don't say you like me, please don't say you like me. "Well, I."
Authors Note: What will Harry say to Luna? Stay tuned. (Soapish sounding, isn't it?)
Ron takes my hand; I can see my pale eyes from inside his. "Luna...I love..."
Ron pokes the side of my head and everything turns white. I choke, lifting my face from the pillow. Damn.
Cho glares, her tiny feet tapping up and down, up and down until I moan groggily. "'Morning, Sleeping Beauty. Did you have a nice rest?" I shrug, because even I know Cho's I'm-going-to-strange-you tone of voice when I hear it. "Padma is waiting in the Common Room with the duster." She hisses, but I just flip over to my back. Too bad, Queen Cho. She snorts, flipping her hair like drama queen contestant number two, and walks out.
Deciding to walk out on my once in a lifetime chance to serve the one I worship, Cho, except not, I pay Padma a galleon and decide to watch the gryffindor quidditch match. If seeing fine men fly around on broomsticks isn't entertainment, I don't know what is. I slide next to Hermione in the stands, shoving my hands underneath me to keep them from wrapping around her neck, fatally. "Hello, Hermione." I say politely, adding my wide-eyed crazy look for effect. Too bad she doesn't realize my gaze is straight at Ron. I don't figure out I'm still on earth until a cold tone reaches my poor, frozen ears. "Hello.Luna" Hermione reports to me, as if she would rather be next to that dog I'm always hearing about. Fluff or something like that.
Ron reached for a star, wrapping it up in wrapping paper of the moonlight and tossing it to Hermione. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her kiss it and hug it to her heart. I want to show Hermione my present, dinner a la scrambled. I continue to watch, catching more stars being chucked my way with only my eyes, dreaming of the day I'd have a star in the palm of my hand. Ron tosses something, which to me looks like a harkensnouch, to someone, bur I'm only paying attention to him. Time passes by, and Ron only seems to get cuter, but my fun is done when Harry calls the practice over. Hermione squeaks and stands, Ron flies over, and their lips magnetize.
I turn away, only to find Harry with a grin on his face. "So, how did you like our practice, Luna?" he questions, but I come up with some stupid excuse for my absent mindedness, including the newest issue of The Quibbler. He shrugs, with a frown matching mine, because I can still see the couple making sure their lips can glue together. I walk past Harry, unsure of where I'm going until the hard wood turns to grass under my shoes. A hand reaches out onto my shoulder, sending sparks down my spine. Could it be?
"Oh, hello Harry Potter." I sigh, once turning around. As soon as I meet his eyes, I regret it, because that was an emotion I saw in Ron's eyes when he looked at Hermione... love. "Err, Luna, I sort of wanted to ask you something..." Harry replied, wincing slightly. "Shoot." I retorted, twirling my hair in a distraction. Please don't say you like me, please don't say you like me. "Well, I."
Authors Note: What will Harry say to Luna? Stay tuned. (Soapish sounding, isn't it?)