Crash! The books I was carrying hit the ground with a sickeningly loud noise, making me want to slap hands over my ears and cry. The boy laughs. It is high and cackling and sounds foul and evil. I keep my hands rigid at my sides, fighting the urge to snap out my wand and show him that I am not as weak as he thinks. But I ignore it, instead bending down to pick up the books and hoping that he'll get bored and move on.
He doesn't. "So, Loony. I hear you have nightmares. That you cry at night. Every night." There is laughter in his voice. His voice sounds like his laugh. I continue to pick up the books, staring at them as I work, begging myself to not let him get to me.
A girl's voice breaks my concentration. It is high and frilly, and terribly familiar. It tells me just how the boy knew about my nightmares.
"Oh Donny, sweetie, don't waste your time on crazies like her. We've got such important things to do."
Shaking, I feel my head slowly rising. I look her in the face. I look her right in her model pretty, absolutely evil face. Picking up the last book, I stand up, bringing myself up to my full height so I can meet her eyes. She looks at me without flinching, a deep, toothy frown put on upside down. Her blue eyes say "what are you going to do about it?"
"Watch out for Nazguls, Jesimae." I murmur, eyes glazing over as the scent of smoke hits my noise. As I walk away, I hear her giggling with her brawny Slytherin boyfriend.
I go back into my ignoring state, focusing only on balancing the books with one had so I can cover my nose with the other. Somewhere in the castle someone has set something on fire, and if I smell it…
Too late.
I run into the nearest lavatory I can find, locking myself in a stall and slamming the books on the top of the toilet. The smell of smoke is stronger now, encircling me, finding every possible way to get in. Hands hug legs as I sink down, finally hitting the floor. Sobs rack my body. Oh Merlin.
Though I try to hide my eyes in my robe, somehow I cannot keep them there. My head raises and looks up at the images. The flashes. The fire, the burns. The Ministry men, apologizing for their late arrival. Not that an apology does anyone any good.
I shake.
Boom. Smash. Crash. Scream.
Boom. Smash. Crash. Scream.
Boom. Smash. Crash. Scream.
It's so much worse. I can remember so much more awake.
Vaguely I can hear myself screaming for real, where I really am, in the lavatory. The real me. Fourteen years old. Five feet six inches tall. Shoulder length white-blonde hair. Ravenclaw student. Screaming, crying, huddling on the floor of my school's bathroom.
But in my mind, so much more real right now, I'm in Mother's laboratory. Four years old. Three feet tall. White-blonde hair pulled in pigtails. Just starting to experiment with magic. Screaming, crying, shivering in my father's arms.
As the memory slowly fades, taking the terrifying visions of my dreams with it, my own current situation hits me.
"She'll only believe in something if there is absolutely no proof supporting it!"
"This is Loon- uh, Luna Lovegood."
"There is no such thing!"
"I didn't realize that Hogwarts took mental patients."
"Don't waste your time on crazies like her."
Every time somebody says something denouncing me as insane, I feel something wilt. I put on a smile and rattle on and on about Nazguls and Crumple Horned Snortacks, but they don't matter, and I don't really think they are real. They hide this side of me from people.
The side of me that is on the floor, crying, right now.
"Here again?" asks a gurgling voice, and I instantly wipe away my tears, bulge out my eyes slightly, and smile. Then I realize who is talking.
I pick my books up off the toilet cover and lift it up, allowing a silvery shape to emerge, stretching. I knew well enough that she could have just gone through the cover, but she always told me that it was most uncomfortable.
"Yeah. Sorry to bother you Myrtle." I stare at the ghost, redrawing her image in my head. Her short braids and her freckles. The glasses that had driven her to this very lavatory, this very toilet, and eventually led to her death at the eyes of the Basilisk.
She cackles. "No, no bother. You cry like me."
I consider whether to take that as a compliment or not. I wonder if that means I'm going to be killed.
"They call me crazy," I murmur. "What would they say if they saw me now?"
"Oh, probably rush to the hospital wing, determine you totally loopy, and have you kicked out so that your problems don't rub off on them," Myrtle prattles, sounding happy enough with the scenario. "So, have you talked to Harry yet?"
Resting my head against the wall of the booth, I nod. "I told him that I believe him."
"What about this club? Didn't you say you were going to join his club?"
"The first meeting is tomorrow. At the Hog's Head."
Myrtle's eyes grow big. "So you are actually going through with it?" You've changed, huh Loony?"
I open my mouth to ask that she please call me Luna, then snap it shut again. At least Myrtle meant no harm by it. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I have."
O.o.O
Author's Note:
Wow. I wasn't expecting this story to be so well loved. It is written strangely. And to be able to respond to reviews in the second chapter… I love it!
XAPY-TZINY-IIOZEINTON-NOAT – Thank you! About the character names, I know that Alodie and Jesimae sound completely Mary Sue, but you are supposed to hate them. Maybe this chapter will show you why. potatocrazy4 – And another huge thank you! Of course you can use the backstory in your fanfic. If anyone else would like to, just make sure to ask me first.