Luna(tic) (Marauders Era)

5. A Quiet Kind of Scared

King's Cross Station was, Luna decided, even worse than Diagon Alley. There were even more people crammed into the tiny platform behind the secret entrance in the barrier than had been through the arch in Diagon Alley - apparently, Luna thought, wizards had a thing for hiding doors in brick walls - and all of them were talking and moving and wandering without seeming to have much method to chaos of their collective motion.

At least this time, Sam was with her. It was a small consolation, really. Smaller than Luna had hoped and exactly as small as she'd known it would be. It came back to the same problem she always had when they went out to crowded places: people walked through Sam. And every time they did, it annoyed him and it scared her. Not in the panic-scared way like when she'd blown up the lamp at the wand shop and not in the butterfly-scared way like when their visitor had been there. No, this was the quiet kind of scared. The kind that was just a little flicker she kept all for herself. It was a selfish kind too. The sort of little blip that she shouldn't have felt anymore but still did. The sort that came from having stupid, foolish hopes squished jut a little bit at a time.

Because every time someone walked through Sam was another time Luna was reminded that the whole damn world, or at least, everyone who knew that Sam existed, thought she was crazy. And every time, that little flicker of quiet fear was another whisper in Luna's head that they might just be right.

She tried not to pay attention to it. She tried not to listen to Sam complaining and she tried not to look at him. She stuffed down her apologies and choked on her answers and agreements to the heated questions he kept asking of no one at all. She kept her eyes forward with one hand in her mother's grip and wished she could have linked her other with Sam's without looking like a fool.

At least Sam seemed to remember that she'd told him to stay close, though Luna suspected this was as much at her request as it was practical; the closer he was to Luna, the less people walked through him and in case she'd forgotten how much he hated that, he was spending plenty of breath reminding her.

So, as they walked across the platform and slipped between families, Sam stayed by Luna's side, practically pressed up against her. Luna was grateful for his closeness. Grateful for the steady presence that reminded her that she wasn't leaving absolutely everything behind. Grateful for the bit of normal she got to keep with her. Even if she knew it wasn't really very normal to anyone but herself.

The problem, of course, was that nothing else here was even close to her normal at all.

First and foremost, there were just so many people. So much activity. So much bustling and hustling and shouting and hugs and goodbyes. That was the worst part, Luna decided. Worse than the people walking through Sam and worse than that quiet, secret fear. Worse because every time she heard snippets of farewells as they walked past families, Luna was reminded that she had to say goodbye today too. And she didn't want to.

Really, Luna thought might hate goodbyes. She couldn't be sure, really, because she'd never had to say any before. There'd never been anyone to say goodbye to. Sam and her mother were always there and she'd never had any friends who had wanted her farewells when they left. The only other person she might have said goodbye to was her father, but he had been gone so long ago Luna didn't think she'd been old enough for farewells. Actually, she wasn't entirely sure. If she was honest, she didn't even know if she'd had the chance for it. Like so many things about her younger years, her memories of her father were all blurry and fuzzy and faded and Luna preferred not to dwell on them. Besides, she supposed for this at least, it didn't really matter. Even if she had said goodbye to her father, she certainly didn't remember it so she supposed it didn't count. Which made this the first one that would. And she wasn't looking forward to it, that was for certain.