Chapter 1
Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, staring blankly at the half-eaten plate of food in front of him. The dull clinking of utensils and the murmur of students filled the Great Hall, but it felt like white noise to him. His mind drifted to the breakup with Ginny. It had been a week, but the aftermath still lingered heavily in the air—especially with Ron refusing to speak to him.
He sighed, running a hand through his unruly black hair. It hadn’t gone the way he thought it would. When he first started dating Ginny, he had convinced himself it was what he wanted. She had fancied him for years, ever since he’d saved her. At the time, Harry had thought he liked her back. It felt like the natural thing to do, as if everyone had expected it.
"Harry Potter’s finally getting his happy ending,” he could hear the murmurs from classmates echoing in his head.
But as the weeks passed, something had begun to gnaw at him. The excitement he thought he should feel wasn’t there. Ginny, for all her fire and confidence, seemed more interested in the idea of the Chosen One, the boy who defeated Voldemort, rather than Harry himself—the awkward, unsure boy who was still trying to figure out who he was in the wake of everything
At first, Harry had pushed those doubts away. Ginny was beautiful, brave, and she understood the dangers they had faced together. But then… there were the little things. The way she’d glow when people asked her about dating Harry Potter, but glazed over when he talked about his fears, his doubts, his nightmares. The real him didn’t seem to matter. She loved the hero, not the boy beneath it.
That realization had hit him like a punch to the gut.
And when he finally broke things off, Ginny’s tears had only been outmatched by her fury.
"How could you?" she had shouted, her voice echoing through the empty corridor where they’d argued. "After everything! All these years, Harry! I waited for you!"
"I’m sorry," Harry had mumbled, struggling to find the right words. "I thought... I thought I felt the same. But I don’t, Ginny. I can’t."
Her face had twisted with pain, and in that moment, Harry felt like the worst person in the world. Ginny had called him every name under the sun before storming off, leaving him standing there, feeling hollow.
He hadn’t expected her to move on so quickly. But now she was already laughing with some older Ravenclaw boy by the lake.
And then there was Ron. Harry had hoped his best friend would understand, but Ron had been furious.
"She’s my sister, mate! What were you thinking?" Ron had yelled, red-faced with anger, before walking off and leaving Harry standing in the common room alone.
So now Harry was truly alone. He poked at his food again, but his appetite had long since disappeared. The loneliness pressed in on him, suffocating.
A familiar, soft voice broke through his thoughts.
“Mind if I sit with you?”
Harry looked up, startled. It was Luna Lovegood, standing beside him with her usual dreamy expression. Her wide, silver-grey eyes watched him patiently, but there was something else there, something that made Harry feel seen in a way he hadn’t felt in weeks.
He glanced around the Great Hall quickly. The table wasn’t full—there were plenty of open seats, both at Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, but it wasn’t a secret that most students steered clear of Luna. She was ‘Loony Lovegood’ to them, someone to mock and laugh at behind her back for her strange beliefs and eccentric ways. Even Ginny had been unkind to her at times, though Harry always hated it when she was.
He noticed some of the students at the Ravenclaw table watching them now, whispering to each other and shooting Luna the same judgmental glances she always got. But Luna didn’t seem to care, as usual.
Harry realized she was still waiting for an answer.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, moving over to give her space. He didn’t know why he felt a sense of relief as soon as she sat down, but the tension in his chest eased just a little. Maybe it was because she wasn’t part of the swirling storm of emotions that had surrounded him since the breakup.
Luna sat beside Harry, her usual serene expression unbroken as the clattering of plates and chatter filled the air around them. For a moment, neither of them spoke, but Harry could feel Luna’s gaze resting on him, soft and curious as ever. It wasn’t the kind of stare that made him uncomfortable, like people trying to figure out what the Chosen One was thinking or feeling. Luna looked at him like she was simply trying to understand, not expecting anything in return.
“Do you mind if I ask something, Harry?” she said gently, breaking the silence.
Harry glanced at her, a little surprised. “Sure.”
Luna tilted her head slightly, her long, pale hair falling over her shoulder as she studied him thoughtfully. “Are you upset that Ginny’s moved on?”
Harry blinked. The question caught him off guard, though he probably should have expected it. He hadn’t really let himself think about it much. He’d noticed Ginny with the Ravenclaw boy, noticed the way she smiled and laughed like nothing had happened. It should have bothered him, shouldn’t it? He wasn’t sure.
He shrugged, feeling the weight of the question sink in. “I don’t know. I thought I would be… but I’m not. Not really.”
Luna nodded, her large silver eyes fixed on him, waiting for him to continue.
“I guess I thought I liked her,” Harry continued, his voice low. “I mean, I did like her… but it was never about who she really was. I just… thought that’s what I was supposed to feel. You know? Like, everyone expected us to be together.” He felt a pang of guilt, admitting it out loud. “But when we were together… I realized she didn’t really see me. She liked the famous version of me. Not…” He trailed off, not sure how to explain it.
“Not the real Harry,” Luna finished for him, her voice soft but clear.
He glanced at her, surprised again by how effortlessly she seemed to understand. “Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Exactly.”
“That’s probably why it hurt less than you thought it would,” Luna said, her tone thoughtful. “You didn’t lose anything real.”
Harry blinked, staring at her. How was it that Luna, who had barely been involved in his life compared to Ron or Hermione, could just see things so clearly? He hadn’t even figured that out himself, and yet here she was, saying it like it was the simplest truth in the world.
“You’re right,” Harry said quietly, and for the first time in days, he felt a flicker of relief. “I guess… I don’t fancy her anymore. Maybe I never really did.”
Luna’s expression softened further, and she reached out to place her hand gently on his arm, not in a way that felt intrusive or overwhelming—just comforting. “It’s good you realized that now,” she said. “You deserve someone who sees the real you, Harry. Not just the boy in the stories.”
Harry felt his chest tighten at her words, not with pain, but with something else—something warm and unfamiliar. How was it that Luna, of all people, understood him better than even Ron or Hermione? They had been through so much together, yet here he was, feeling more seen in a single conversation with Luna than he had in months of dating Ginny.
“Thanks, Luna,” he murmured, and for the first time that day, he felt the corners of his mouth lift into a smile.
Luna smiled back, that faint, dreamy expression on her face, and then she leaned in slightly, as though imparting some great wisdom. “You should try drinking some Cipswishers,” she said seriously. “They help clear the mind when you're feeling confused. I think they’d do wonders for you.”
Harry couldn’t help it—he laughed. It was a genuine laugh, the kind that came from somewhere deep in his chest, and it surprised him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so light. “Cipswishers?” he repeated, grinning.
Luna nodded earnestly. “Yes, they’re very rare, but I’m sure you could find some if you looked in the Forbidden Forest. They’re known to make your head feel all floaty, in a good way.”
Harry chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief. Only Luna could suggest something so absurd and make it sound like a perfectly logical solution. And somehow, talking to her had made the weight on his shoulders feel a little less heavy.
As his laughter died down, Harry found himself really looking at Luna for the first time. She was… different. Not in the way people usually meant when they talked about her being ‘Loony Lovegood,’ but in a way he hadn’t noticed before. There was something about her that was… beautiful. Not in the conventional way like Ginny, but in the quiet, effortless way she carried herself.
Her long, pale hair shimmered in the soft candlelight of the Great Hall, and her strange radish earrings dangled from her ears, as odd and endearing as ever. But it was her eyes that drew him in—wide and silver, filled with an openness and honesty that made him feel like he could say anything, and she would never judge him for it.
It was strange. He’d never really thought about Luna like this before. But now, sitting here, Harry realized just how much he liked being around her. She was different from everyone else, but in a way that made him feel understood and at ease.
“Thankyou, Harry,” Luna said suddenly, breaking his train of thought. “For letting me sit with you, I mean.” She began to gather her things, her fingers brushing over the edges of her worn bag. “I think I’ll head back to the dormitory now.”
A flicker of something passed through Harry’s chest—something that almost felt like reluctance. He didn’t want her to leave. Not yet.
“Wait,” he said quickly, before he could stop himself. “Can I… can I walk you to your dorm?”
Luna blinked at him in surprise, her head tilting slightly. “You don’t have to, Harry. It’s not very far.”
“I know,” Harry said, feeling a little sheepish. “But I want to.” He wasn’t sure why, but the idea of Luna walking back alone felt wrong somehow. And if he was being honest with himself, he just didn’t want the conversation to end.
Luna studied him for a moment, her eyes thoughtful. “Alright then,” she said with a small smile. “If you’d like to.”