Breaking the Illusion
Luna Lovegood had always lived in a world slightly apart from others. It wasn’t that she didn’t see reality—she simply chose to see beyond it. But some illusions weren’t meant to be held onto.
The illusion of control was one of them.
She had been careful. Careful not to let Hermione’s sharp eyes catch her skipping meals. Careful to avoid Ginny’s questions about why she had been running before dawn. Careful to make excuses when Neville commented on how tired she looked.
But she hadn’t been careful enough.
Because when Draco Malfoy sneered at her that morning, the illusion cracked.
--
It started in the Great Hall, in the usual way things did at Hogwarts—with the careless cruelty of a passing remark.
Luna had been walking past the Slytherin table, her mind elsewhere, when Malfoy’s voice cut through the morning chatter.
“Merlin, Lovegood, don’t they feed you up in Ravenclaw? You look like a bloody skeleton.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried.
Luna stopped.
For a moment, she stood perfectly still. She could feel the weight of the words settling onto her, pressing into the spaces she had tried so hard to empty.
She turned to look at him, meeting his gaze with that strange, serene expression she always wore. “That’s an interesting observation, Malfoy,” she said lightly. “Did you know Thestrals only appear to those who have witnessed death? Maybe you’re seeing something no one else does.”
A few chuckles broke out around the hall, but Malfoy just rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Loony.”
Luna walked away before anyone could see the way her hands trembled at her sides.
--
She barely tasted her tea as she sat down at the Ravenclaw table, her appetite gone.
She knew Malfoy’s words shouldn’t matter. She had been called “Loony” for years. But this was different. This wasn’t about her eccentricities—this was about her body.
And worse, he had noticed.
Her illusion of control had never felt so fragile.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. She didn’t speak much in class. She didn’t join in on conversations. She felt as though she were shrinking inward, folding into herself until she took up as little space as possible.
By the time dinner came, she had convinced herself she wasn’t hungry. The idea of food made her stomach twist. Instead, she slipped away from the Great Hall, walking briskly toward the Astronomy Tower, where no one would find her.
Or so she thought.
--
“You’re avoiding us.”
Luna turned sharply. Hermione stood behind her, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
“I’m not avoiding you,” Luna said, her voice light as air. “I just wanted to see the stars.”
Hermione’s gaze didn’t waver. “You barely ate today.”
Luna let out a small laugh. “I wasn’t very hungry.”
“You’re never hungry anymore,” Hermione said quietly.
Luna felt something in her chest tighten. “That’s not true.”
Hermione took a step closer. “Luna, we’re worried about you.”
Luna looked away, staring at the darkening sky. “You don’t need to be.”
“Skipping meals. Overexercising. Acting like nothing’s wrong when you almost faint in class,” Hermione continued, undeterred. “You’re not okay, Luna. You can tell me what’s going on.”
Luna swallowed hard. She could feel the panic rising, the fear of being seen too clearly. “Hermione,” she said softly, “I appreciate your concern, but this isn’t something you need to fix.”
Hermione’s expression flickered with something—hurt, maybe. But she didn’t back down. “That’s not how friendship works,” she said. “We don’t just look the other way when someone is struggling.”
Luna’s composure wavered for a split second.
And then, before she could stop herself, she said, “I just want to be in control of something.”
The words felt heavy in the air, as if she had accidentally spoken a truth she wasn’t ready to admit.
Hermione’s expression softened. “Control over what?”
Luna shook her head. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to explain.
So she did what she had always done—she smiled, deflecting with something strange and whimsical. “Did you know that if you say ‘Snargaluff pod’ three times in front of a mirror, it’s said to bring good luck?”
Hermione sighed. “Luna.”
Luna turned toward the sky again. “It’s getting late,” she said quietly. “You should go.”
There was a pause. A moment where Hermione hesitated, as if she were deciding whether to push further.
Then, finally, she said, “I’m not giving up on you.”
Luna closed her eyes as Hermione walked away, her words lingering in the night air.
She wasn’t sure if she wanted Hermione to give up on her or not.
Because if she didn’t, it meant Luna would eventually have to face the truth.
And the illusion would shatter completely.