Luna Lovegood

“I love you too, Dad,” she said, as she pulled herself free of his tight grasp.  Luna blew him a kiss and a smile over her shoulder as she walked away.

Once on board the Hogwarts express, Luna found it difficult to find a compartment to sit in as every door she passed slammed shut.  She felt a pang of sadness in her heart but pushed the depressing thoughts aside.  Finally, she reached a compartment in the very back of the train that wasn’t taken.  Leaving the door open, she plopped herself down at a window seat and pulled out her Quibbler.  She flipped it upside-down.  There were reasons why the Sorting Hat placed her in Ravenclaw.  She was brighter than most of her peers cared to realize.

After several minutes, Luna heard people walking down the aisle, trying to find a seat.  Soon enough, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, and another boy walked in.

“Hi, Luna,” Ginny said politely.  “Is it okay if we take these seats?”  She gestured to the empty seats across from Luna. 

She nodded.

“Thanks.  So… How was your summer, Luna?” Ginny asked, trying to make conversation.

Luna lay down her paper and said, “Yes, yes it was quite enjoyable, you know.”  Then she looked at Harry.  “You’re Harry Potter.”

“I know I am,” he mumbled.  Luna stared at him intently for a moment, taking in his lightning scar and scruffy black hair.  So this was the famous Boy Who Lived.  She wondered if he would make a good friend.  But then Luna turned to the other boy who was holding a strange plant.

“And I don’t know who you are.”

“I’m nobody,” he replied quickly.  Luna saw Ginny scowl.

“No, you’re not.”  Ginny said insistently.  “Neville Longbottom-Luna Lovegood.  Luna’s in my year, but in Ravenclaw.”  Ginny was in Gryffindor.  This Neville boy was probably also in Gryffindor, but in Harry’s year-5th.

“Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure,” Luna recited in a sing-song voice the old Ravenclaw saying.  As the others began a low conversation she pulled out her paper and began reading again on page 24, upside-down, of course.  After awhile the witch with the cart of snacks and sweets came by and Luna pulled out a sickle and bought a cauldron cake.  The others bought some sweets and they all munched happily.  Once Luna was done she again pulled out her Quibbler.  It was a routine thing for her.  Over the course of a month before the next one arrived, she would have read this edition 47 times.

The other three left Luna for a short time and came back all dressed in their Gryffindor robes.  They began quietly chatting again.  After a bit, Luna peered over the edge of her paper as the boy Neville was gesturing to his plant which he called Mimbulus mimbletonia.  He said it was quite rare.  After that, he began rambling and Luna lost interest and was reading again when suddenly,

SPLAT!

Gooey, green pus-like liquid squirted out of each indentation on Neville’s plant.  In a matter of seconds, Luna’s hair was matted with it and robes were covered, as well as her Quibbler.  A disappointed frown formed on her lips; she would have to ask Daddy for a new one.  She looked up to see that everyone else was covered as well.  Meanwhile, Neville was stammering:

“S-Sorry!  I haven’t tried that before.  Didn’t realize it would be quite so…Don’t worry though, Stinksap’s not poisonous.”  Stinksap was a good term for the stuff, Luna thought.  Fore it did repel a quite repugnant odor, causing them all to crinkle their noses in dismay.

The door to the compartment opened and Cho Chang poked her head in, looked slightly repulsed, but quickly cleared her face to only a look of surprise.  Cho was a pretty Asian girl who was also a 6th year Ravenclaw.  She also happened to be the girlfriend of Cedric Diggory, the boy who died last year in a maze at a Wizarding Contest between Hogwarts and two other Schools of Magic.  But Luna had believed Harry and the Headmaster Dumbledore.  She didn’t believe that his death was an accident.  Luna believed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back, that he killed Cedric, and Harry Potter had fought and beat him in the flesh.  She didn’t believe The Daily Prophet, a competing newspaper to The Quibbler that this was all lies.  Her daddy believed as well.