"You're Harry Potter"
I knew ever since I was young that I was different. Born into a family that is already considered an “outcast” from society, automatically so was I. Making friends was something I never excelled at. That proved true once more when I started attending school, especially in Hogwarts.
Kids would make fun but I never let it bother me. Ever since I was little, I could get a good read of people's energies, auras if you will, revealing their personal struggle/secrets. I figured out some would tease because their home-life wasn’t so good, others just insecure. I never held anything against them and would just let their comments go over my head.
So it came to no surprise when I got to platform 9 ¾ and got on the train to find myself in my own compartment. Students occasionally would assume the compartment was “vacant,” enter, and I would immediately see their faces fall when they realized I was there. They would walk away and I would be lying if I didn’t say a bit of me was hoping they would stay.
That’s why I was a bit stunned when someone opened the compartment door and walked in.
“Hi, Luna. Is it okay if we take these seats?” said Ginny, a girl who is also in Year Four.
Not expecting anyone to want to come in, all I could manage was a nod.
Ginny wasn’t alone. She was in the company of a boy who looked to be pretty quiet and to himself, but carrying something heavy from what I could read. The guy next to him, I recognized almost immediately. But was it really him? Harry Potter, the talk of the school, town, world, whatever you want to say. I heard many fellow Ravenclaw girls swoon over this “Harry Potter” and never really understood where they were coming from until this very moment. I had to be sure it was him.
They entered the compartment, Harry and the other boy putting away their trunks and a white, caged owl. I tried to maintain my composure by focusing my attention on the new issue of The Quibbler. I know they noticed my “unusual” way of reading it, but it's the only way I can.
Ginny sat down in the seat next to me while the boys finished storing their things. To my horrible luck, Harry ended up sitting on the seat opposite of me. No chance of me ignoring this person. Calm down. I thought to myself. I lifted my gaze from The Quibbler and caught Harry staring in my direction.
I never been so on edge and hyper focused on what someone might think of me. Does he think I’m weird? He totally thinks I’m weird! my thoughts would say.
I held his gaze for a second which was thankfully interrupted by Ginny.
“Had a good summer, Luna?” Ginny asked.
Turning my attention to her breaking the eye contact between myself and Harry I replied, “Yes. Yes it was quite enjoyable…”
It was now or never! I moved my gaze back to Harry. And before I could stop myself, I said, “You’re Harry Potter.”
Trying to hide a smile, Harry held my gaze and said, “I know I am.”
Smug I thought, feeling a blush form. To distract my mind from what just happened, I immediately turned my attention to the boy next to him.
“And I don’t know who you are.” I told the boy.
He seemed a bit flustered with the immediate attention.
“I’m nobody.” he spat out.
I felt Ginny shuffle beside me before she spoke up.
“No you’re not.” Ginny stated.
“Neville Longbottom, this is Luna Lovegood. Luna and I are in the same year. She’s in Ravenclaw and I—you lot already know what house I’m in,” she announced.
“Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest pleasure,” I said in a rhythmical tone, shaking Neville’s hand.
It slipped out before I realized. Blame it on a force of habit. If they didn’t think you were weird, they do now, my inner thought said. My father would always say this when meeting someone new and it didn’t take too long before I adopted it into my lingo.
To hide my embarrassment, I flashed a tight-lipped smile, picked up my magazine and went back to reading. Hiding the blush that I could feel spread across my pale cheeks. Wishing to back myself so much into the wall that I disappear.
I heard Ginny almost let out a giggle a little after, but ignored it. Not lifting my eyes from the magazine because if I can't see him, he’s not there.