Disclaimer: Nothing except the plot's mine.
A/N: Oops, this chapter took a little too long, I know. But school started last week and again updates will be sparse. I hope the length and the writing can make up for this...
Snidget-And-Co: Thanks!
tOmLoVeR17: Thanks, and I like Luna too!
metallicverb: Neville is reserved for Ginny, lol.
I lov Redheads w/ Fangs: Thanks, I hope you like this chapter as well!
secretkeeper1: Thanks. Ron and Luna do make a good ship, hope you like this chapter!
Fairy of the Black Oleander: Sorry for the wait! I tried, but school is getting impossible...
Leuca: Thanks again for your recommendation! Keep on liking the story, ok? :)
phoenixdreams: Indeed Ron/Luna is a new ship to me, I hope I write them good enough for people to like it.
tom4eva: Sorry for the late update. I will write more frequently!
hermione1239: In the weird little head of mine Hermione and Snape are born to be together, and so, Ron has to stay with Luna... lol. I had not watched the last American Idol. Was it any good?
20 reviews for 2 chapters, not bad, not bad at all... thank you everyone. I love you all! In this chapter Luna wrote more about her past. Enjoy!
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Third Entry:
Rats. No one's in the dorm and homework's all done. There is nothing left for me to do except writing in this dumb diary.
The room is unusually frowsty for an autumn afternoon. I have pushed open a window, and though the sunrays are happily shining in on the dancing dust, no breeze comes.
Whose fault is it that I am stuck in this stuffy room on such a pleasant day? Snape. That greasy bat of a man. Even now when I am writing down the insult I'm writing it without anger- am so tired of emotions. They just seem to drain me. Just now in Potions he took a point off me because I was 'keeping a straight face'. Excuse me? Since when is keeping a straight face illegal?
Duh. Since Saturday.
"But I smiled whole morning! I have the full right to take a five-minute break."
"I am sorry, Miss Lovegood," I can swear that he was holding back laughter when he said that. What kind of sicko takes amusement from a poor girl's misery? I flushed in anger, but that didn't take the glint away from Snape's eyes. Evil git.
That's why I have come up to the dorm. I really can't smile any longer. My lips feel like they are going to fall out if I smile once more.
Good thing that it is Snape, not McGonagall or Flitwick who caught me, though. Surely he won't tell on me.
Or will he?
Snape has changed. He is almost... civil to the Griffindors. Most students are oblivious to this, and I can't quite place it myself, but the change is there. In fact, it should be pretty predictable. He-who-must-not-be-named's downfall must have been an enormous impact on his life. It is of course known to every living witch and wizard now that he had been a competent spy whose contributions helped to bring about his former master's fall. He not only stole information, but also caught the Dark Lord together with Harry, Ron and Hermione. I can remember that day so clearly...
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"Listen," a fourth year whispered.
I listened. We all did. As impossible as it may seem, the dungeon fell more silent than before. It seemed like everyone was holding their breath. Time stopped.
It should be past midnight. No one was sure. When the Death Eaters poured into the grounds and attacked Hogwarts, most students were already in bed and when we had to flee underground it was more than slightly chaotic- no one remembered to bring a watch. I had the luck to be in the Common Room when Dumbledore's voice boomed in the castle. At least I was in my warm robes, not some silky pajamas.
Once in the dungeons, I sat down at a corner and cuddled the shadows. I was not a prefect so I needed not count my housemates, which must be a terrifying job, to count how many were missing. Unlike most students, I did not feel particularly frightened, just mildly annoyed that I was deprived of my comfy bed. I saw some Hufflepuffs wailing hysterically and wouldn't calm down in spite of their prefects' effort. They quieted only when a Slytherin waved his wand threateningly in their faces.
I sniggered furtively at this, but I was not feeling much mirth. I was not feeling much panic either. Wouldn't Ron be livid if he found out that I ain't having any emotions even when the school is under attack? I was thinking when a pale Ginny ran to me.
"Finally!" She cried, panting, "I have been looking for you!"
I looked up at her in mild interest. "Looking for me?"
"Harry's missing," she said. "And Hermione and Ron."
As her words fell a deafening sound exploded above us. I stood up and for the first time of the night, an unspeakable dread fell upon me.
I spent the night with Ginny, my only friend. Well, I had another friend, but he was not here. He may be hiding, but more likely he was fighting. He may be dead. I stroked my sobbing friend's hair absently, listening to the seemingly endless explosions above. Slowly people around me slumped one by one against the dank walls and fell asleep. I felt Ginny dozing off as well, though she was trying hard to stay awake. She would jerk up once in awhile and, seeing that apart from the candles burning lower nothing had changed, doze off again.
I could not sleep. I listened to the fighting that was no doubt taking place beyond the stone ceiling, and after what seemed an eternity, the noises little by little subsided. Students began to stir and wake up, wearing confused expressions as if they didn't know where they were before fear returned. The dungeon was ominously hushed. Finally, the last curse was thrown and a ringing silence set itself on the castle.
I listened, and listened. Nothing. I scrambled up.
"Luna?"
I started to push through the mass of students. Professor Binns, a few ghosts, and Professor Sprout were with us in the dungeon. I rushed past them too.
"Luna, where are you going?"
"Miss Lovegood, it is not safe yet!"
"Miss Lovegood, stay where you are!"
I ignored them. Pushing open the thick door, I relished in the cold fresh air. I ran out of the dungeon and up the endless steps. People were shouting behind me, but none of them followed. I ran and ran until my legs couldn't bring me any faster. I did not stop at the top of the concealed stairs, I did not pause at the ruined Ravenclaw Tower. For some reason I seemed to know where I should go when I truly didn't. The invisible hand kept pushing me until I reached the Great Hall.
I slowed my pace and tried in vain to control my rugged breathing. My fingers halted on the brass knob.
What if they lost? What if it was the Dark Lord who won? I may face a whole herd of triumphant Death Eaters. I gripped the knob a little tighter and turned it.
The Great Hall did not look half as inviting as usual. There were scorch marks and a pungent smell of burnt carpet. In the dim light I could see shattered glass everywhere. The long tables had become smoking wrecks. But nothing compared to what I saw in the middle of the room.
There were two hooded figures on the floor, and a tall, struggling one, who by his robes I identified as the Dark Lord himself. All three of them were bound by electric-blue ropes, undoubtedly conjured by the Headmaster who was standing beside them. Harry was standing right next to Dumbledore, his face barely recognizable from all the sweat and blood mixing together. He looked extremely exhausted. Snape was at the very back of the group, and I had to squint my eyes in order to see him. He did not look much different except for the wand still in hand. He seemed to be rather uncomfortable- I learned later that was because Harry and Hermione just hugged him- but very pleased with himself at the same time.
None of this is what I meant by 'what I saw in the middle of the room'. What I meant by that, what I hadn't prepared to see when I pushed open the door was Hermione and Ron embracing each other.
It should not have been a surprise. It was just that I had these stupid images of him being totally battered- matted in blood and cuts and all- that I hadn't thought of seeing him in one piece hugging a girl when I entered the room. I stared at them. He looked unhurt to me. Granted, his hair was in a mess and he was much paler than usual, but I didn't see the long bleeding wounds that I was dreading.
"Miss Lovegood?" Snape was the first to notice me.
He let go of Hermione and turned. Our eyes locked.
"Luna?" He drawled slowly, like he couldn't believe his eyes.
I turned and ran for the second time of the day.
"Luna!" I heard his footsteps behind me. I ran faster. "Luna Lovegood! Where are you-"
He coughed. I didn't halt to see how he was but just kept running. He fell behind. I kept running and running, without an idea where I should run to. I ran out of the castle and fell face first into the dew-dampened grass.
An incessant rain started to fall.
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After the Dark Lord's downfall, there were celebrations throughout the wizarding world. Balls after balls, carnivals after carnivals. Confetti was constantly rained everywhere. The Headmaster, Snape and the 'wonder three' got themselves a couple of medals for bringing down the most evil wizard in history (not without a bloody fight, too, described the Daily Prophet in great details).
One would think that this whole The-Dark-Lord-was-caught-and-I-was-there thing was pretty impressive, but no. Colin Creevey kept asking me what you-know-who looked like, but frankly I couldn't remember. Everything was sort of in a haze after that day. I couldn't recall the grand celebrations I was told that I had joined, nor could I tell how the rest of the year had gone. After a year of therapy I retreated back into my emotionless lair.
Ron was frustrated, extremely so. I could tell that he did not quite understand why had I adopted the I-don't-care attitude back. I had learnt from Ginny and other girls that boys were inherently insensitive and oblivious like a goose, but it was not until then I fully get what they meant. He tried reasoning with me, intercepting me when I was on my way to lessons, begging and even apologizing for a crime he did not know committing.
Of course he did not do it because he missed me or something- a ludicrous idea- but only because he was unwilling to give up all the progress he had made. He never admit it but I know he treat me as a kind of project, to prove that he can do it, to save a 'lost soul', maybe. I did not beg for his help. He did. And while I may not care much, it bothered me when someone kept intruding on my studies, so I gave in and he started helping me in my fifth year.
"This all started because of you being in a wrong place at a wrong time," I often complained under my breath when the sessions became intolerable.
"You shouldn't have tripped, too, then," he always caught my murmurs and knew exactly what I was referring to.
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It was a wet spring morning. The grounds had turned into a muddy swamp from last night's storm, and the air was dewy. Nevertheless, the sky was beginning to bleach to a pearly pink as I entered the Owlery. The sight was magnificent from the tall tower, and I loosened my scarf a little to let my neck taste the fresh cool wind.
It was a little morning ritual of mine- I woke up earlier than most students and walked around the castle alone. I found that this little walk worked up a healthy appetite, and the tranquility of the morning soothed my mind, preparing me for another day. I habitually strode up the spiral stairs to the Owlery where Athena resided. Athena was my owl, a middle-sized russet beauty. Mum bought her for me when I was eight, so she was with me for more than seven years.
I searched the usual wood where Athena usually perched. She was not there. Out for an early hunt? I thought, holding out my hand with treats on my palm. The owls hooted all around me. Several dropped from their branches and pecked the treats.
Then I saw her. Athena. She was on a lower branch, seemingly asleep. Even before touching her, I knew she had gone. It was an indescribable feeling, but maybe I wasn't feeling at all. I threw away the treats and walked over to her. My faithful messenger, my loving pal.
My only thing left from Mum.
I stroked her feathers and felt a door inside me closed. Pig was hooting next to me, not in his usual happy mood. I conjured a box and placed her gently in.
It may sound a little cruel, but the only thing on my mind when I descended from the chamber was that I had to buy another owl.
I clutched the coffin tighter as I lowered myself from the stairs without grabbing a handrail. Life was so unbelievably fragile that I could not quite take it in. I will take her to Madam Pomfrey... no. To Hagrid. Yes, that's what I will do. Bring her to Hagrid...
Lost in my inner turbulence, I failed to notice the raging footsteps coming my way.
"-Fred and George. Trust them to make my life hell-"
We collided as I turned with my head in the clouds and his lowered. We tumbled down the stairs and landed as an entangled heap at its foot. The box skidded to a stop several feet away from me. Luckily it survived the fall and did not flew open.
The one below me moaned and said a word that no self-respecting lady would repeat. It was only then I discovered that I was on top of someone- to tell the embarrassing truth, I did not know why had I fallen until then.
"Owww," he moaned again. I turned my eyes from the box to his face and to my astonishment saw that he was Ronald Weasley, the brother of my friend, Ginny. He was on his back and I was on him. Our faces were an inch apart and I was staring into his eyes.
"Are you going to move, or what?" He said harshly, breaking the spell, and attempted to push me away. I began to get away myself but for some reason my body wouldn't move the way my brain ordered it to. I tried again but in the process got into a more awkward position with both my hands clinging to his robe. He looked at me, at my hands that were tightly hanging on him, at me again, then sighed. I tried once more to back away to no avail.
He sighed and with a firm hand around my waist, sat up without difficulty. He then stood up, dusting his robes.
"Can't someone enjoy a morning without being disturbed here?" He demanded no one in particular.
I remained silent. Though a close friend of Ginny's, I was never familiar with her brothers, including Ron though we fought together in my fourth year. To me, they were out of reach, and thus out of mind. They were an ancient wizard family with a long line of history, and I knew what these families thought about The Quibbler and my family. The Weasleys had always been popular, and I did not know how to handle popular people. Not that I had any intention to. Ginny was an exception, naturally.
"If you are going to sit there all day-" he had started towards the stairs when he looked back at me, still sitting on the dank stone floor.
And screamed.
It was a rather disturbing sound. As I have told you, his voice didn't deepen until his seventh year. I frowned.
"Would you please stop that?"
"Merlin's holy beard!" He was shouting and it seemed like he wouldn't cease till he succeed in waking every single one in the castle up.
"What's the matter?" Screams must be contagious because I found myself pulling my voice an octave higher.
Two seconds later he calmed a bit and stopped screaming, but did not stop goggling at me. I looked back puzzled. He kept his eyes on me, and slowly, gingerly like he was approaching a beast, walked to my side. I could not comprehend his actions, and concluded that Ginny's brother was even weirder than I thought.
"Easy, easy," when he spoke again he used a soft voice that contrasted drastically the one he used a minute ago.
"What?" I wanted to know.
"Everything is gonna be fine," he cooed, more comforting himself than me. I blinked.
"But-"
He ignored me and reached out. As I was sitting on one of my leg, I had to turn myself arduously to see the ankle he was touching.
Which was twisted in an aberrant angle. I knew now why he had screamed, for I would have screamed myself if I wasn't the emotionless freak I was.
"Oh."
"Oh? Your ankle is broken and you said, oh?" He was incredulous.
The truth was, it did not hurt much. There was a distant pain, but not much. Even my ankle had stopped feeling.
"Nothing a wand can't fix," while I found the situation rather hilarious, he certainly did not. He grabbed my hand, preventing it to reach into my robe, and shook his head resolutely.
"I've seen what a spell went wrong can do to your bones," he said grimly. Then touching my broken ankle again, asked, "does it hurt?"
I laughed. How stupid a question was that? He stared at me.
"No, it does not hurt," I replied, sweeping everything off my face, not leaving out the lines around my eyes when I laughed. Ron just stared harder at this. I could almost hear the cogs in his head turning to make sense of my strangeness, and for a moment he seemed to struggle between walking away and making a remark. Finally he decided to do neither and picked me up with one scoop.
"Hey!" Reflexively my arms went around his neck clinging for dear life, for he was already towering at that time and it seemed to me that if he should drop me it would be a long painful fall. My ankles might have lost their feelings, my bottom might not.
"I am taking you to the Hospital Wing," he ignored my protest and announced in a tone that indicated that there was no point in arguing.
"I did not feel like going to the Hospital Wing," I told him. He looked ahead as if he hadn't heard me.
"The box!" I remembered suddenly.
"What?"
"That box over there," I pointed. "Put me down."
With lightening speed and skill that he no doubt gained from playing Quidditch, he snatched the box up. Now he was carrying me and the box. "Nice try," he smiled broadly, showing all his teeth, and matched on in great big steps.
"What's the matter with you?" I demanded, and was shocked to feel anger for the first time in years.
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Our relationship took a turn on that day. He stayed with me in the Hospital Wing that day- he felt guilty or something. Madam Pomfrey diagnosed a minor fracture in my left foot and decided that I have to stay for two weeks. He came to visit me everyday after lessons (sometimes skipping them) and I suspected that it was during the two weeks he noticed my lack of facial expression. As I said, the closer I get with an individual, the more evasive I become.
It was also during that two weeks I developed- discovered, more like, for it had always been there- a stupid affection for him, more commonly known as a crush.
Unnecessary sentiments, but extremely powerful.
Anyways, he took my 'illness' as his responsibility. He reported it to Dumbledore. And that old man, that fool who believed and encouraged 'caring among students', did nothing but to help Ron with his pestering. Even after he graduated I was under the close scrutiny of the Headmaster and the professors, which brings me back to the question at the very beginning- will Snape grass on me, or not?
Not in a million years would the 'old' Snape want anything to do with a Griffindor Auror, but considering how he has been behaving lately- deducting only twenty points off poor Tammy for melting her sixth cauldron of the year and smiling during meals- one can't be overly confident about the greasy bat's actions.
And it is my only hope that some High Power up there is listening to my prayers for a tight mouth of his.
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A/N: Good, or not? I wish to write more explicitly about her feelings, but then I can't see Luna writing that way. This story is proving to be more and more challenging. Anyways, please REVIEW and make me a happy little girl. Anonymous reviewers please leave your emails to be in the mailing list.
