A/N Okay so I've stolen my characters as well as several other things from J.K. Rowling but at least I haven't sunken as low as Mundungus Fletcher-I am not making money of this

Hermione's Diary

-A Luna Lovegood Story-

I have been wrong about Luna Lovegood. I have only thought of her as the student body has,

annoying and well, loony. The way she refuses to change her mistletoe into roses because it is

home to nargles, how she is always rambling on about crumpet-horned-snorkel-acts. I myself

was always rather cool towards her. But tonight she barricaded me outside the great hall. Her

eyes looked straight past me "We need to talk." She told me in solemn tones quite like her own.

I was with Ron, so he pulled me aside until we were hidden form the student's view. I love it the

way he looks right into my eyes like he did then saying "I'll miss you." Hugging me tightly as if we

might never see each other again. He can be so affectionate, Ron can, but shy.

"I am so glad you and Ronald are going out. Witch Weekly can be so misleading. You don't like

Harry at all." I snorted who was she to call the Witch Weekly misleading. Her father published

The Quibbler. I refused to let myself agree with Luna even though she was right.

She looked at me carefully deciding if she should go on. "I wish I had someone to hold me like

that, the way Ron holds you. Sometimes when I've had a bad day. Like on double

Transfiguration days, with Slytherin and..." Her word were spilling over each other going faster

and faster but now she slowed down and lowered her voice to an almost reverent whisper, "no

guy will ever like me like that though."

It was those word that hit me. Luna felt just as I had until I began to go out out with Ron.

Because although Victor was kind and made me feel special he Didn't really LOVE me, just

didn't hold me the way the way Ron holds me. The way Luna wants to be held. I realized at that

moment Luna truly was human, had real emotions and was more than just an object of cruel

gossip.

As she asked her next question, "Do you think that I. . . I have a chance of having Harry love

me?" I desperately hoped that Harry would. I wanted it for this poor girl so much I was afraid to

answer. So I lied, I told her as a Prefect I had to meet with McGonagall, I turned, then ran. As

far as I know she is still sitting on the bench by the lake appearing somewhat out of touch but

fine nonetheless, yet crying on the inside.