Disclaimer : Yeah, yeah, yeah. I don't own Harry Potter, Luna
Lovegood (sadly), or anything else that J.K. Rowling has written.
C H A P T E R O N E : L O S T I N T H O U G H T
Gently the wind blew, moving the fallen leaves of the last winter, just as the new emerged in brilliant colors of valiant green. It was a vibrant breeze, and if it was to be given a color, it would've been a shade of yellow. Just barely there, a pale, pastel. The mood was still and warm, allowing the sun to reflect into its stream of air.
A few things had changed this year. It was Luna Lovegood's sixth year at Hogwarts, and frankly, she hadn't the slightest clue how she was going to pass Transfiguration. She'd just been too busy; after recently joining the Juvenile Indefinable Grouped Society of Anonymous Writers – otherwise known as JIGSAW – and the Quidditch team, how on earth was the poor girl supposed to keep up with her average everyday classes?
Besides, it wasn't as if Transfiguration mattered anyway! It was never going to count for anything. No. Negative. Definitely not. Luna Lovegood would never pursue a maniacal career of shape-shifting random objects! She was far too intellectual for that. Far too caring. Far too amazing.
Luna hadn't had much time for friendship, either. It seemed every day demanded more and more of her. Whether she was down at the library, finishing a novel, which she did quite often, or down at the lake, talking with the bugs that roamed the ground, she was rarely available for anything else.
Some people seemed to think Luna was crazy. No, she wasn't. Only different. Unique, her father had told her. Luna was a spontaneous person, willing to take chances, and not caring what the oblivious population had to think of her. She acted, talked, and dressed how she wanted, not according to the newest Witch Weekly magazine.
Most certainly, Luna was not a good catch for any "male" types. They weren't attracted to her. While Ginny Weasley and the rest of her peers were out on dates with their newest favorite, Luna stayed up in the towers, admiring the shapes of the stars.
The setting is based in the midday of March 21, just before sunset. Luna had some catching up to do with her latest insect friends. It was amazing, just how she seemed to be able to understand the poor things. They didn't talk verbally, of course, but Luna could lay down for hours beside them, just consuming their feelings, sympathetic for the ants, beetles, and ladybugs.
She sat like this, crosslegged, down by the dock. Not on the wooden planks, for insects refused to come near for fear of falling into the dark and mysterious water, but on the grass just beyond it.
Maybe Luna was crazy, insane. But she was conscious as well, and had a soul that yearned to help, to make others feel wanted. Not that she was.
So the bugs were basically the only ones who were felt for the same way she was to her peers. She had never really had any friends. There was Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, just two years earlier when she'd begged to help them to the Department of Mysteries, but both had been ignoring her with a passion. She'd tried to talk to the vibrant-haired Virginia Weasley, but she refused, giving Luna nothing but a cold shoulder. Hermione had thrown a cold glass of reality into her face, snapping her out of subconscious.
No, apparently Luna Lovegood didn't have any friends but the bugs. The lonely, terrified insects.
The sun began to hover behind the horizon, some mountains covered in hats of ice and sleet just hundreds of miles away. Luna was about to leave when she overheard some talk not to far from herself. It was Ronald and Harry, discussing this month's Quidditch tactics. Ron still wasn't very good. Luna now played Chaser on the Ravenclaw team. . . Not that anyone ever passed to her.
"Yeh, Harry, we're going-a kick their mother-smacked asses, we are!" Ron was talking faster than he could think, apparently. "Those bloody ass Slytherins, I hate 'em! I just 'ate 'em!"
Ron had taken to speaking with more of an accent recently. He'd just been home for the holidays, and his family's accent hadn't worn off yet, apparently. Also he'd obviously been hanging out with Fred and George, due to his constant swearing.
Luna hated swearing.
"Yeah, Ron," Harry was saying, glancing out of the side of his eye. He'd seen Luna and was obviously trying to ignore her. She was a pest in his eyes, Luna suspected. "We're gonna kick their bloody asses, alright. . ."
C H A P T E R O N E : L O S T I N T H O U G H T
Gently the wind blew, moving the fallen leaves of the last winter, just as the new emerged in brilliant colors of valiant green. It was a vibrant breeze, and if it was to be given a color, it would've been a shade of yellow. Just barely there, a pale, pastel. The mood was still and warm, allowing the sun to reflect into its stream of air.
A few things had changed this year. It was Luna Lovegood's sixth year at Hogwarts, and frankly, she hadn't the slightest clue how she was going to pass Transfiguration. She'd just been too busy; after recently joining the Juvenile Indefinable Grouped Society of Anonymous Writers – otherwise known as JIGSAW – and the Quidditch team, how on earth was the poor girl supposed to keep up with her average everyday classes?
Besides, it wasn't as if Transfiguration mattered anyway! It was never going to count for anything. No. Negative. Definitely not. Luna Lovegood would never pursue a maniacal career of shape-shifting random objects! She was far too intellectual for that. Far too caring. Far too amazing.
Luna hadn't had much time for friendship, either. It seemed every day demanded more and more of her. Whether she was down at the library, finishing a novel, which she did quite often, or down at the lake, talking with the bugs that roamed the ground, she was rarely available for anything else.
Some people seemed to think Luna was crazy. No, she wasn't. Only different. Unique, her father had told her. Luna was a spontaneous person, willing to take chances, and not caring what the oblivious population had to think of her. She acted, talked, and dressed how she wanted, not according to the newest Witch Weekly magazine.
Most certainly, Luna was not a good catch for any "male" types. They weren't attracted to her. While Ginny Weasley and the rest of her peers were out on dates with their newest favorite, Luna stayed up in the towers, admiring the shapes of the stars.
The setting is based in the midday of March 21, just before sunset. Luna had some catching up to do with her latest insect friends. It was amazing, just how she seemed to be able to understand the poor things. They didn't talk verbally, of course, but Luna could lay down for hours beside them, just consuming their feelings, sympathetic for the ants, beetles, and ladybugs.
She sat like this, crosslegged, down by the dock. Not on the wooden planks, for insects refused to come near for fear of falling into the dark and mysterious water, but on the grass just beyond it.
Maybe Luna was crazy, insane. But she was conscious as well, and had a soul that yearned to help, to make others feel wanted. Not that she was.
So the bugs were basically the only ones who were felt for the same way she was to her peers. She had never really had any friends. There was Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, just two years earlier when she'd begged to help them to the Department of Mysteries, but both had been ignoring her with a passion. She'd tried to talk to the vibrant-haired Virginia Weasley, but she refused, giving Luna nothing but a cold shoulder. Hermione had thrown a cold glass of reality into her face, snapping her out of subconscious.
No, apparently Luna Lovegood didn't have any friends but the bugs. The lonely, terrified insects.
The sun began to hover behind the horizon, some mountains covered in hats of ice and sleet just hundreds of miles away. Luna was about to leave when she overheard some talk not to far from herself. It was Ronald and Harry, discussing this month's Quidditch tactics. Ron still wasn't very good. Luna now played Chaser on the Ravenclaw team. . . Not that anyone ever passed to her.
"Yeh, Harry, we're going-a kick their mother-smacked asses, we are!" Ron was talking faster than he could think, apparently. "Those bloody ass Slytherins, I hate 'em! I just 'ate 'em!"
Ron had taken to speaking with more of an accent recently. He'd just been home for the holidays, and his family's accent hadn't worn off yet, apparently. Also he'd obviously been hanging out with Fred and George, due to his constant swearing.
Luna hated swearing.
"Yeah, Ron," Harry was saying, glancing out of the side of his eye. He'd seen Luna and was obviously trying to ignore her. She was a pest in his eyes, Luna suspected. "We're gonna kick their bloody asses, alright. . ."