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.
