Luna Lovegood strolled around her apartment. Years of hardship had not affected her like everyone else. The wizarding world had watched the rise and fall of Voldemort and his followers, and had become bitter and suspicious during those years. People had died, children were kidnapped, the streets were safe no longer, and everyone suspected their neighbour of treachery. But Luna, living in a world of her own, had watched it all pass by, knowing a time would come when it would be over – everything has an end, after all.
Luna had completed school years ago and, like so many others, was confined to her house due to the political and social tension. She could not sit idle all day, so she started to write and illustrate children's books. A few months ago, when things took a turn for the better, she took her work to a publisher and got herself a contract. She would join their office as an editor and write a couple of books per year.
Luna had never been fashionable, add to that years of sitting at home with nothing to do and you had the present Luna – odd-mannered, oddly dressed, odd-looking, and at odds with all around her. With work to do and a house to maintain, Luna had little time nowadays for anything else. This suited her just fine. She had few friends and though she shared a close relationship with her father, he lived in a different town, so she had few engagements. Luna loved the solitary time she would get. Anything to get away from people and their judgments or reactions.
Talking about people and their judgments, Luna had already managed to irk Sally, the Senior Editor at her agency. Sally felt that Luna, with her unkempt hair and mismatched clothes, was an embarrassment. She would often pass snide remarks when Luna was around. You know the kind - when everyone knows who is being talked about, but no names are taken.
A certain afternoon, two weeks after the announcement of the legalisation of slavery, Luna and her colleagues were walking out after a meeting to discuss the new academic books. As Luna walked ahead, she could feel eyes boring into her. She didn't have to turn to know that such hatred could only be emanating from Sally Stranton.
'Hey Luna, nice outfit…no one else would have been bold enough to wear maroon with baby blue,' she said, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Luna somewhat ignored her, only walking away at a faster pace. But that is not the way to deal with Sally. Sally doesn't know that it is good to quit when you're ahead. Sally requires something more blunt, like a baseball bat aimed right for her noggin.
'You should really take out some time for yourself Luna,' came Sally's amused voice, 'or the only action you'll ever see is on TV.'
'Not everyone can whore herself out to the highest bidder without any qualms.'
Dead silence. Awkward glances. Half-formed smiles. Heads turned to look at the speaker – Luna Lovegood. She was in more of a shock than anyone else. For years she had been used to replying to people in her head, but she had just spoken out loud. What she had said was not that new, just not an open subject. Sally Parker had become Sally Stranton by conniving her way into the heart of a 65-year-old widower who had lost his wife a month before Sally entered it, and Sally hated to talk about it.
'I'm sorry!' said Luna hurriedly. She disliked hurting people and hated creating public scenes. 'We all know that's not true. I just said it…like that,' she finished lamely.
'It's okay,' said Sally in a stilted voice. Her face was flushed red and her eyes bored into Luna's. 'It's all okay.'