Waaaaa! No one even voted, and I only got one review, besides! (Actually, thanks you, one person. I won't say your name, don't want you to get stoned, or something), well guess it serves me right, not writing for so long, nobody remembers me!

Well, sense no one voted, I've decided to write a Luna Lovegood one shot. I was going to call it "Why Luna hates Nargles" but I like "Why no one's seen a nargle" better.

So, here it is, Ladies and Germs (hee hee, I like that!). Oh, and just so you know, it's in Luna's POV.

Why No One's Seen a Nargle

When I was little, before Mum died, we had a lot of fun. Mum knew everyone in the area. I used to go play with the Weasley's and Mum would sit and have coffee with Molly. Ginny was my best friend. She's the only person I know, who I don't call by their full name; it just doesn't seem to fit her. Ronald was different. I would have loved him by any name, and I did for a long time. And then Mum died. As much as Mum was a social person, Dad was not, and when he lost her, it just got worse. It was like; nothing mattered to him but the Quibbler, so that's all I cared about too. We never went over to the Weasley's any more, and Ginny wasn't my best friend any more. I remember, though, about a year before I started at Hogwarts, Dad set up a play date. I didn't tell him that I was ten, and I didn't have play dates any more.

Things were different. Ginny kept talking about Harry Potter. I knew she fancied him. I was sure, that if he weren't around, things would have been better. Even Ronald seemed to like him better, better than me. In fact, he was his best friend. I showed them an article, from the quibbler, on a rare South American animal. They laughed. They started calling me odd, and then Ginny nick named me Loony. It was Harry Potter, I was sure. I hated him, he was so famous, and everyone liked him. He wasn't loony. He was the great Harry Potter! The boy who lived! I took to blaming everything on him. After a while, it even seemed like Mum's death was his fault.

I never went to the Weasley's again.

School was even worse, but I learned to cope. Ronald hardly noticed I was alive. His friends had started to call him Ron. Sometimes, I would watch him, him and his friends. He seemed happy. But Harry Potter was the hero. My first year, he saved Ginny from a basilisk, and, the rumor was, a young Lord Voldemort as well. It intrigued me, and I started looking at Harry Potter in a new sense. Not simply as a boy who thought he was great, but a boy who knew he was great. It gnawed at me. The fact that the person I so loved to hate wasn't a fake, made me so angry. I had no logical reason to hate him any more, but hate is a hard habit to break.

It was my fourth year before I actually met him, and, I was shocked. He was so simple, kind of a nerd, really. His glasses kept slipping down his nose, and he blushed a lot. Him, Ronald, and that curly haired girl Hermione Granger, came into my compartment on the train, along with Ginny, and some clumsy boy, who's plant exploded, named Neville.

Being around Ronald was murder. He had matured into this handsome man, and he was a prefect, too. But, it's seems, I wasn't the only one who noticed, it didn't take me long to realize that Hermione had some feelings reserved only for him. She was narrow-minded too! I was torn between hating that insufferable Granger, and Harry Potter. And then...and then, I was torn between Harry Potter, and Ronald. I began, very slowly, to think of Harry Potter, simply as 'Harry'. Not as the boy who had stole everything from me, but the boy who gave me something. And I almost kissed him once. We were both under the mistletoe, and when I pointed this out he jumped back. I felt something then that I had felt so often in the past, but seemed to come to a new height at that moment. I felt disappointment. I was so embarrassed; I had to think of something quick. I warned him about nargles. Nargles! I laughed about it later. It was so stupid! You see...nargles don't exist. I made them up. I lay in bed that night and thought about it, and then cried about it, and then realized, that I loved him.

The rest of the year I spent learning about his world. I started questioning the accountability of the Quibbler, as I never had before. I found out that he could see the thresals too, and it made me feel better. I began hinting to Hermione, that Ronald might like her, being as subtle as I could. I wanted them to be together. I wanted Ron to be happy. He loved her, and I knew it, I could see it, like I never could, when I hated Hermione. And, most of all, I stopped hating. Well, I made a small exception for a few Slitheryns (a/n did I spell that right?), and of course, Lord Voldemort, who it turned out, was really named Tom Riddle.

I'll never forget the last day of school. Harry offered to help me look for my things, which Cho, feeling particularly vindictive after her break up with him, had, along with a few other girls, hid very well that year. He left me, smiling, after he hadn't in so long, and it made me feel good, very good...and very lucky.

Nargles or no.

Well? Did ya like it? Please r&r

Asta la Pasta

Flora