Scrimgeour's men pushed their way through the jostling crowd towards the makeshift podium. Ron scowled as one of the uniformed police shoved him roughly out of the way. Regaining his composure, he looked back up at the long moon-blonde head standing a foot above the rest of the crowd.
Luna Lovegood was apparently oblivious to the advancing police. She held her megaphone close to her flushed face, her usually soft voice amplified abnormally so it rang out over the heads of the witches and wizards in the street.
"Look how stupid we have all become! Look at us all! Fortune favours only those who care too much to see – the wealthy politicians and rulers and dictators that lead us to fight for their nothingness, their fake morals, their own wants and needs,"
Ron glanced at the police, making their way through the throng, and then back at Luna. Her wide eyes were sparkling with belief in her won words.
"Don't believe the headlines! Don't listen to what they tell you! They're poisoning your minds, stealing your independence, ruining your innocence, and it's happening every day!"
"Luna, watch out! The police! Luna!" Ron's voice was lost in the general chatter of a mildly interested crowd.
"Think back to the old days, the good days! If things keep going the way they are, nothing will ever be the same. It will never be okay!"
"Luna, get down!"
"Every day your own life purpose is buried by the collective greed-fuelled purpose of our government, feeding you lies and false truths that will lead you to your graves!"
Luna's eyes were glittering with tears that threatened to overflow her eyes and besmirch her pale cheeks. Ron's own eyes were full of gathering worry for the girl on the wooden box.
The police reached her before she'd even noticed them. She was carried, sobbing and crying, off her makeshift podium and back through the gathered crowd. Many witches and wizards were shaking their heads and muttering.
"Poor girl… Must be her father… That Quibbler nut's daughter, you know… I don't suppose she'll ever be okay…"
Ron shook his head angrily and pushed his way roughly through the mob towards Scrimgeour's men, who were lecturing Luna. She was still sobbing quietly, and didn't look like she was listening.
"Luna! Luna?"
She looked up, her tear-flooded eyes connecting with his angry ones. Immediately all traces of frustration left Ron, to be replaced by a terrible sadness for the poor girl in front of him.
"Ronald…" her voice was a whisper again as she held out her hand towards him. Without thinking, he took it and knelt down in front of her.
"It's okay, Luna. Everything's okay,"
"It's not. They didn't listen. I tried to help the, Ronald,"
"I know, I listened, I heard what you said,"
"You?" Luna's eyes grew even wider, as if she was seeing Ron for the first time.
"Of course," he smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "Come on, let's get out of here," he handed her the megaphone and helped her to her feet, glaring at the uniformed men as they passed.
"Thank you,"
Ron carried on walking, still holding Luna's hand. She smiled. He hadn't heard her.
