Chapter 2
Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room, feeling unusually heavy. The room was buzzing with activity as students chatted about their upcoming tests and the latest Quidditch strategies, but everything seemed to blur together. He sank into an armchair near the window, pretending to study. His open textbook sat untouched in his lap as his mind raced.
Her words kept replaying—“nobody invites me,” “I sit alone,” “people hide my clothes.” Every line felt like a blow, making his chest tighten with guilt and anger at the others—and at himself—for not seeing it sooner. He had always admired Luna’s unwavering belief in things others laughed at, her resilience in the face of ridicule. Her uniqueness wasn’t just a quality—it was a strength that he’d envied in quiet moments. Yet, hearing her speak with so much pain made Harry realize how deeply those cruel words and actions had cut her.
He couldn’t concentrate on his studies. Each time he tried to focus, his thoughts would drift back to Luna standing there, trying to hold back her tears. The gnawing worry grew as the evening wore on, making him restless. He tossed and turned in bed, his blankets tangled around him. The common room’s warmth felt suffocating as he lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
He even considered sneaking out under the Invisibility Cloak, his fingers twitching towards it. Maybe he could find Luna and… what? Apologize? Tell her she wasn’t alone? Would that even help? The uncertainty held him back, and he cursed under his breath, feeling powerless.
She’s stronger than that, he kept trying to convince himself. Luna’s different, but she’s always been strong. But the image of her vulnerable eyes haunted him, and darker thoughts gnawed at the edges of his mind. What if she didn’t recover from this? What if she became more isolated or did something drastic?
The next morning wasn’t much better. Harry barely touched his breakfast in the Great Hall. His eyes kept darting towards the Ravenclaw table, where Luna sat alone again, poking at her food. She wasn’t even wearing her usual radish earrings or the quirky accessories that often sparked whispered conversations around her. Her big blue eyes looked hollow, lost in thought, and her expression was distant.
“Harry?” Hermione’s voice cut through his haze. “You look exhausted. Did you even sleep last night?”
Harry forced a nod, barely processing her concern. “Yeah,” he mumbled, taking a sip of his juice to avoid further questions. Hermione didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t press.
Ginny, sitting beside him, kept glancing his way, but he didn’t notice. His thoughts were with Luna. He kept imagining the worst: Luna isolating herself in some dark corner of the castle, becoming more withdrawn with each passing day. What if people kept targeting her with their cruel pranks? What if she started believing all the awful things people said about her? His stomach twisted with worry.
Every time someone called her “Looney” in passing, Harry’s jaw clenched. He gripped his fork tighter, and the background noises of the hall grated on his nerves. The smell of toast and eggs, once comforting, now made him feel queasy.
Harry felt a mixture of frustration and guilt, like he should be doing something but didn’t know what. How could he help Luna see what he saw—that she was wonderful just as she was? He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he didn’t do something soon, he might lose her to her sadness, and that thought terrified him more than he wanted to admit.
It was clear now—Luna was more than just a friend to him. But he wasn’t sure if he was brave enough to confess it.
Harry couldn’t stop the disturbing thought creeping into his mind: What if Luna tries to change herself to fit in? He cringed at the mental image of Luna mimicking Lavender Brown’s bubbly, gossip-filled persona or adopting Parvati Patil’s mannerisms. It didn’t sit right with him at all. And thinking back to his time with Cho Chang. Cho had seemed like a completely different person when they were together—nervous, constantly apologetic, and unsure of everything, including him. He couldn’t bear to imagine Luna losing herself like that.
He shook his head, feeling an almost desperate urge to hold onto the Luna he knew. The Luna who wore radish earrings and believed in magical creatures no one else did. The Luna who would drop strange, insightful advice at the most unexpected moments. She was the only one who had ever told him she believed in him without needing a reason. Luna understood him in ways that even Hermione and Ron couldn’t; she saw beyond his title and scars to the things he never voiced.
Please, Luna, he thought inwardly, almost like a prayer. Never change yourself.
A sudden idea struck him, and Harry jumped up from his seat, his heart racing. He hurried to the Gryffindor common room, barely noticing the chatter around him. Ron and Neville were in a heated discussion about Herbology homework, and Dean and Seamus were laughing about something that had happened in Potions.
“Dean!” Harry called out, his voice breathless. Dean turned, surprised at the urgency in Harry’s tone. “Can I borrow one of your CDs?” Harry asked, trying not to sound too rushed.
Dean, born into a Muggle family, had an impressive collection of music—something that fascinated Harry more now than it ever had before. Dean raised an eyebrow, looking puzzled, but shrugged and waved Harry over. “Sure, mate. What’re you looking for?”
Harry searched through Dean’s collection with uncharacteristic impatience. His fingers flipped through cases with Muggle band names and colorful album covers, and he tried to remember the exact song he had in mind. Finally, he found it—a CD that Dean had once played in the common room, the lyrics somehow lingering in Harry’s mind ever since.
“Thanks!” Harry said hurriedly, grabbing the case. Before Dean could ask anything else, Harry bolted out of the common room, ignoring Ron’s baffled look and Neville’s chuckle.
Harry climbed the winding staircase up to the Astronomy Tower, feeling the cool night breeze brushing against his face as he pushed open the creaky door. He paused, catching sight of Luna. She sat on the stone ledge, looking out over the sprawling grounds of Hogwarts, her legs dangling, and her head resting against a pillar. The silver light illuminated her long, wavy hair, making it shimmer like threads of moonbeam, and her radish earrings swayed gently in the wind.
He cleared his throat softly, not wanting to startle her. “Hey, Luna,” he said, his voice low and hesitant. “Mind if I sit too?”
Luna turned her head slightly and gave a small nod. “Sure, Harry,” she replied, her voice soft and a little distant.
Harry took a seat next to her on the ledge, feeling the rough stone under his hands as he settled in. They sat in silence for a moment, the night air crisp with the scent of autumn leaves and the faint. Below them, the grounds were bathed in silver moonlight, the Forbidden Forest stretching darkly in the distance.
“I hate seeing you sad,” Harry started, his voice hesitant but sincere. “So I brought something for you.” He reached into his robes, pulling out the CD he had borrowed from Dean. Luna’s large eyes, reflecting the moon’s glow, shifted to the object in his hands.
“What’s that?” she asked, curiosity and a trace of wonder in her voice.
“It’s a CD,” Harry explained, feeling oddly excited to show this to her. “Muggles use it to listen to music. I can cast a spell to make it play.” He gave her a half-smile. “It’s sort of like having tiny, real figures performing for you.”
Luna tilted her head, eyes widening with the kind of innocent curiosity that Harry had always found endearing. “Music… with tiny people?” she repeated, her tone holding that familiar dreaminess, but tinged with genuine intrigue.
“Not exactly,” Harry chuckled, setting the CD down on the ledge and muttering a charm. As the spell activated, a soft, melodic tune began to play—a song with a steady, uplifting rhythm, accompanied by gentle but strong lyrics
Just a small town girl, living in a magical world. She took the midnight train going anywhere, Just a city boy. He took the midnight train going anywhere. A singer in a smoky room, the smell of wine and cheap perfume. For a smile they can share the night, it goes on and on and on and on. Don't stop believin', hold on to that feeling. Streetlight people, don't stop believin', hold on.
Luna’s eyes widened even further, her lips parting slightly in surprise. She stayed perfectly still, her attention completely captured by the sound, as if afraid any movement might shatter the spell.
Harry watched her reaction carefully. He could see the tension easing from her shoulders, the sadness lifting from her eyes.
“That was… wonderful,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, full of genuine wonder.
Harry couldn’t help but smile, his chest feeling lighter than it had in days. “It’s funny, but… thinking about you reminded me of this song,” he admitted, his voice a little rough with emotion. He took a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t want you to change, Luna. I like you exactly as you are.”
Luna tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly as she looked at him. “Why?” she asked, the question simple but filled with a longing that took Harry by surprise.
“Because…” he began, swallowing hard as he tried to find the right words. “Because you’re not like everyone else. And that’s what makes you… special. You’re honest, and you’re brave in your own way. You see things that others miss.” He paused, his throat tightening. “And you understand me in a way no one else does. I don’t want you to change because… you’re Luna. And you’re perfect just as you are.”
Luna’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the two of them sat there, the words hanging between them like a fragile thread. The cool breeze rustled through Luna’s hair. Harry felt his heart pounding, a mix of nerves and something deeper he couldn’t quite name.
Luna finally broke the silence, her voice soft and almost reverent. “No one’s ever told me that before,” she said, her wide blue eyes searching his face.
Harry looked down, feeling a bit shy under her intense gaze. “Well… they should have,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Luna gazed at Harry with those large, bright eyes that seemed to hold the moonlight within them. Her lips quirked into a small, grateful smile, and before Harry could even register what was happening, she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. The touch was feather-light, warm, and fleeting, but it left a tingling sensation in its wake.
Harry blinked, completely taken aback, feeling heat rush up his neck and to his ears. His hand instinctively reached up to the spot where her lips had touched, his fingers brushing against his skin. He couldn’t help it—he grinned, his face lighting up with an almost childlike glee, a rare, unguarded expression that made his green eyes.
Luna sat back, looking content and a little pleased with herself, her soft blonde hair fluttering in the cool night breeze. There was an innocence to her that made the gesture feel completely natural, as if it were simply her way of saying thank you.
“Thank you, Harry,” Luna said quietly, her voice as soft as the wind rustling through the leaves below.
They sat there together, sharing a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather, it felt like a silent understanding—a bond that didn’t need words to be felt.
After a few moments, Luna broke the silence, her voice lilting and curious. “Harry?” she asked, turning to look at him with a faint smile playing on her lips.
“Yeah?” Harry replied, still feeling that lingering warmth where she had kissed him.
“Do you think… you could bring another Muggle song tomorrow?” she asked, her tone light and hopeful, like a child asking for a bedtime story.
“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, pretending to weigh the decision. “Only if you promise to kiss me on both cheeks next time,” he added with a teasing grin.
Luna’s eyes widened for a second in surprise, and then she laughed—a soft, airy sound that seemed to float on the night air. There was a hint of mischief in her laughter, and it was infectious. Harry found himself chuckling along with her.
“Well,” Luna replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “I suppose that’s a fair trade.” She gave him a serious nod, as if sealing a solemn agreement. “Two cheeks, one song. Yes, that sounds right.”
Harry felt his grin widening. He leaned back against the pillar, looking up at the stars twinkling above them. The sky seemed endless, vast and open, much like the feelings now stirring inside him.
Luna’s blouse shifted slightly in the breeze, hinting at the curves beneath, and Harry quickly redirected his gaze to her face, feeling his cheeks grow warm.
The longer he spent with her, the more Harry found himself captivated by her. He didn’t know what this feeling was, exactly, but it was there, growing with every smile and every soft-spoken word.