Luna Lovegood

Midnight Owl

            That first night of lying in bed was one Luna was used to.  It was the same each year on her first night back home: painful.  There was always that subconscious feeling of uncertainty and confusion because though the place seems new and unfamiliar, Luna had grown up there.  That was the scary part; how she couldn’t figure out where her home truly was.  She really liked to think that this leaning homestead was it, but sometimes Hogwarts just felt more right.  But there were pros and cons for each: at Hogwarts she was teased and at home, Daddy was away or busy with work a lot of the time.

            But that night was especially tough, even without the inner conflicts with where she could find her home.  Throughout her restless night there were many things running through her mind.  And one of them was, none other than, Neville Longbottom.  She had been furious with him, but as she was away from him for a little while, her fury began to diminish just a bit.  Just enough to make her attempt to look through his eyes.  So, she did.

            Neville was never terribly popular, but then again, neither was Luna.  And she soon realized, that if Neville had stepped forward to help her that day in the Room of Requirement, his social status would have gone instantly down to zero and everyone would treat him even more awfully.  But Luna still found it hard to believe that his social life meant more to him than she did.  She stood up to taunts and bullies every day.  She lived through it.  He had been afraid to face it, and to Luna that was almost unforgivable. 

But that was the catch: could she ever forgive him?  She almost wanted to make herself forgive him because she wanted a friend so badly…a friend.  That’s what she had thought Neville was.  And friends are supposed to stand up for each other.  He did no such thing. 

Just lying in her leopard print bed, her room covered in layers of dust from the time spent away, tears welled up in her eyes.  She was almost at a breaking point.  How much could one person take?  Was it possible for a single soul to be hated, neglected, and teased by so many?  Why?  Why did everyone have to hate her?  Just because she was different, she had to be labeled a freak.  She sat up in bed, sniffling.  These thoughts were overwhelming her, but she still continued with them.  All she had ever done was try and be nice to people.  Caring, and forgiving.  But was it possible to forgive too many times?  To be too merciful?  There were some people who were offenders of her being way too often.  Had she let them slide one time too many?  Because now she was beginning to think she had.

So, where would she go from here?  Luna didn’t know.  She had always prided herself in her dent-free fenders, in her flawless shield.  But had someone’s spear finally made a crack in it?  Had the other little bumps finally added up?  Luna felt as if her shield was about to shatter and she couldn’t stand the feeling of it.  The crumbling, the falling, the weakness.  She was Luna Lovegood and she was strong.

That was when she decided to get out of bed.  It was still four hours until sunrise, but Luna didn’t plan on letting her eyes rest tonight.  Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, her bare toes landed silently on the cool wooden floor.  She padded over to her desk and pulled out a strip of parchment, a jar of ink, a tawny colored quill, and an envelope with a seal.  On the front of the envelope she wrote and address and a name:

Neville Longbottom

Then, setting it aside, she began her letter:

Dear Neville,

            I wasn’t exactly sure how to begin this letter, but I felt that I should write something to you.  I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you those weeks before break I was just so upset and hurt.  I didn’t know how to deal with the situation.  I’ve tried to understand your end of the spectrum, but I was still really hurt that you didn’t value our friendship nearly as much as I had thought.  Neville, you are the only true friend I have ever had, and I would hate to see that disappear.  But if you’re not going to be there for me, I may as well not be there for you.  Should we just end this now, Neville?  Or can we come to an agreement?

Yours Truly,

            Luna

            Sealing the envelope carefully and with great delicacy, Luna held the letter in her hands and just felt it there, in her palms, for just a few moments.  The weight of it.  But then, she finally wandered down the stairs to the kitchen where the family owl sat on the windowsill, preparing to go out for its nocturnal hunt.  Gently petting the ashy feathers, Luna whispered to it,

            “Not tonight, hon.  I have an urgent letter that I need you to deliver.  And don’t leave until he writes a reply.”

            She smiled soothingly at the creature as she handed the letter to its awaiting talons.  Taking off, Luna watched it go into the pitch-dark night, soon unable to see its form against the dark backdrop.

            Turning around, she found her father’s hollow form watching her, vacant eyes drowsy from sleep boring into her with what seemed like lifeless oppression.

            “Luna,” his voice cracking with his tired spirit.  “What are you doing awake?”

            Luna stared back at him for a moment, contemplating what to say next.  “Nothing,” was her response.  He sighed quite uncharacteristically, as if in defeat, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leading her back up the stairs to her bedroom.  Inside her room, she looked back to see him quietly closing the door.  She herself sighed.  But she walked over to her rustled covers, tucked herself in, and lay there, awake, for the remainder of the night.