Chapter 1
The Great Hall buzzed with the usual clamor of lunchtime chatter. The scent of roasted chicken and pumpkin juice filled the air as plates clattered and students laughed. Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, absently stirring his mashed potatoes. Hermione and Ginny were seated across from him, engaged in a lively conversation, but Harry wasn’t listening. His green eyes kept drifting to the Ravenclaw table.
There, Luna Lovegood sat alone, which wasn’t unusual. What felt different, though, was the way she seemed to retreat into herself, shoulders slumped and gaze distant. Her normally vibrant eyes were fixed on her plate as she pushed around her food without eating. Harry couldn’t shake the unease pooling in his chest. He was used to seeing Luna lost in her own world, but this was something else—something that tugged at him.
“…Are you even listening?” Hermione’s voice cut through the noise, drawing Harry’s attention back. Her brow furrowed in frustration.
“Yeah… just a bit distracted,” Harry mumbled, shifting in his seat. He didn’t want them to worry, especially not Ginny, whose gaze was unwaveringly fixed on him. Ginny had always been persistent when it came to matters involving him, but he could only think of Luna at the moment.
“You’re worried about the Quidditch match, aren’t you?” Hermione guessed, always trying to read him.
“Uh, yeah,” Harry lied, not trusting his voice to keep steady. His eyes slid back toward Luna, and the heaviness in his chest tightened.
Ginny huffed, frustration in her voice. “Harry, you need to do something about Romilda Vane. She’s been telling everyone you fancy her, and it’s getting ridiculous!” She sounded angry, almost possessive. Harry had never figured out how to let Ginny down without hurting her feelings, so he usually sidestepped the issue. To him, she was like family, nothing more.
“Right, Romilda,” he said distractedly, earning a disapproving look from Hermione. Ginny’s expression softened as if she were hoping his lack of focus was just nerves over Quidditch or annoyance with Romilda.
The truth was, none of that mattered right now. Harry’s focus kept returning to Luna, whose usual serene air was gone. Her long, silvery-blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she seemed small and vulnerable. Harry’s eyes lingered longer than he intended, his heart inexplicably heavy seeing her so different from her usual carefree self. Luna always intrigued him in a way he couldn’t quite articulate. Her big, innocent blue eyes often held a depth that drew him in, and her openness was unlike anyone else’s. But now, those same eyes were downcast, and it bothered him more than he was prepared to admit.
He noticed a slight tremor in her hand as she poked at her food, and something deep within him stirred—a protectiveness, a need to make sure she was alright. The realization caught him off guard, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Why did it matter so much to him if she was sad? And why did the idea of seeing her upset feel so wrong?
When Luna quietly got up, leaving most of her lunch untouched, he instinctively stood as well. He felt an urgency he couldn’t quite explain.
“Harry, where are you going?” Ginny’s voice called out sharply behind him, and Harry turned, almost startled. He forced a smile, trying to seem casual.
“I’ve got some work to do,” he lied quickly, already feeling guilty. Ginny’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she didn’t press further. Harry took that as his cue to slip away, weaving through the tables and out into the corridor where Luna had disappeared.
The hallway was quieter than the Great Hall, with only the distant murmur of students echoing off the stone walls. Harry saw Luna’s silvery-blonde hair swaying as she walked ahead of him, her figure slightly hunched. He quickened his pace, his footsteps muffled on the worn stone floor.
“Luna!” he called softly, not wanting to startle her.
Luna paused, turning slowly. She wore her reddish, radish-shaped earrings, which swung gently as she faced him. Harry stopped a few steps away, taking in her delicate features. Her skin seemed almost luminous in the dim corridor, and her wide blue eyes held that faraway look he was so used to. But now, he could see something else—something deeper that tugged at his heart.
“Are you alright?” he asked, trying to sound casual, but the concern in his voice betrayed him.
Luna offered a small, almost automatic smile. “Yes,” she replied, but Harry knew immediately it wasn’t true.
He stepped closer, feeling his chest tighten. “Please,” he urged quietly, lowering his voice. “Don’t lie to me. I’m just… worried. I’ve never seen you like this.”
Luna blinked, her smile fading. She looked down at the floor, as if gathering her thoughts, and Harry felt a pang of anticipation, wondering if she’d actually open up to him. He could hear his heartbeat in the silence, and the faint scent of old parchment and ink lingered in the corridor.
Finally, Luna spoke, her voice barely a whisper. “Last week, in Hogsmeade, I was watching everyone,” she began, her tone soft and distant. “There were so many people—Ginny, Dean, Ron and Lavender Brown, Thomas, Cho, Michael, you, Hermione, and so many other girls and boys… all laughing and talking.”
Harry frowned, the familiar names sparking memories of their trip to Hogsmeade. He hadn’t realized Luna had been there, watching from a distance.
“I’ve never really been part of a group,” Luna continued, her voice trembling slightly. “Nobody invites me. Even in the D.A. classes, nobody really pays attention to me. During class, I sit alone because people don’t even want to be my assignment partner.”
Harry felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He remembered the D.A. meetings vividly, but he hadn’t noticed Luna sitting alone. He hated himself a little for that—for being so oblivious. His fists clenched involuntarily, anger and guilt warring within him.
Luna’s voice cracked slightly, and Harry’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. “People hide my clothes sometimes,” she admitted softly. “Yesterday, someone threw water on me.” She paused, taking a shaky breath. “I wish… sometimes I was normal too,” she whispered, her voice almost breaking. “I wish I wasn’t so alone. I wish I could fit in too.”
Harry’s chest felt tight, and he had to swallow hard against the emotions that rose within him. Luna, who always seemed so unbothered by what people thought, was hurting more than he’d ever imagined. He wanted to say something—anything—to take away her pain, but words felt inadequate.
Harry felt a pang in his chest, watching Luna’s smile fade as she softly said, “Sorry, Harry. I’m just wasting your time. You must have better things to do than talking to Looney Lovegood.” The name stung him even more coming from her, like a wound she was resigned to bearing.
“No, Luna, wait—” he started, his hand instinctively reaching out, but before he could stop her, she turned and walked away. Her thin frame seemed to float down the corridor, her long silvery hair swaying behind her. Harry’s fingers curled back into a fist, frustration and helplessness bubbling within him.
He stood there, staring at the empty hallway long after she’d disappeared. The distant sounds of students moving around the castle felt muffled, like he was underwater, disconnected. Luna’s words echoed in his mind: “I wish I could fit in too.”