*a.n* this is another of those 1-shots that came to me and I wrote in about an hour. I still have doubts about how good these are, and the characters are definitely not mine, but when a story begs to be written, you can't say no. . .
My name is Luna Lovegood—not Loony, not Loopy, just Luna.
I am a fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have a father and friends. I am a perfectly normal human being.
Except that I see things.
Don't ask me to explain why, and don't tell me to take Divination; Trelawny is a fraud and anyone with a brain knows it.
It only happens when I look at a person. I'll see someone for the first time and their entire life will flash through my brain, like sparks from steel. Births, deaths, love and loss: everything.
It gives me an oddly surprised look, but I don't really care. It is a special and rare gift, my uncle Ollivander says, to see the way I do. And it was such a wonderful game, to see souls unfold before me.
Then Harry Potter walked in to my view, on the Express that morning. I only saw his eyes for a moment or two, behind my Quibbler, and then the ancient runes faded away. I saw his birth, his family and the day they all died. I saw the letter that changed his life. I saw dementors and a dog and a wolf and a rat, and I saw Voldemort—all three times.
I saw his future, many years ahead. And in his future, I saw mine.
This shocked me. *Harry—and me?* in all my peeking into the futures of men, I had never seen myself linked to anyone.
Finally, a spark had caught. I wanted to know more about Harry Potter.
So I'd follow him silently out of the Great Hall, stand only a few feet away during D.A. meetings, just happen to walk by his classes while on break. I took every chance I could to find out something new about him.
And after a while, my curiosity was gone. But I didn't stop following him.
Because I was in love with Harry. Everything about him—his laugh, his intensity, his conviction, his grace, how he cared for everyone and no one all at once, and those eyes (I had never seen such a shade of green before)—drove me crazy. Reading the Quibbler even fell to the backburner. No one noticed I was acting oddly around him—they all thought I was a nut job anyway, they didn't care if I was a little Loopier than usual.
Then I saw him with Cho.
Cho.
It's not like I didn't see it coming; even if I hadn't seen their lives, it was so obvious they liked each other. But it still made me angrier than anything ever had.
And ohh, did I hate her on Christmas Eve. When she kissed him; I was there, hiding behind the door. Then I went up to the dormitory and cried into my pillow.
She had never really liked me anyway: she was popular, and well, I was Loony. But after that kiss, our hellos in the Ravenclaw common room became stiff, then nonexistent. Until the only real communication we had was an occasional glance in the hallways. And hers was always cold, always said the same thing.
*you shall not have him.*
I'd smile back at her, gently, serenely as always. It wouldn't have done her any good to tell her that she was wrong.
All I had to do was wait.
I waited.
And waited.
And one day, Harry needed help breaking into the Ministry. Someone he loved needed him (the way he said it sent chills up my spine), and he was risking everything to go. I volunteered—in fact, I wouldn't let him go without me. Voldemort would be there, and he would need all the help he could get to survive to his future—my future.
And now. . .i have to go look for my things, put out the usual notice next to the Great Hall. Being Loopy has its problems, y'know.
. . .maybe what I saw was wrong. After all, the future could be changed; maybe losing his godfather shifted a cosmic something, separating our destinies.
We might not be connected anymore. . .
But. . .
"Hello, Luna."
He said my name. Harry called me Luna. Not Loony—not Loopy.
Just Luna.