You're Weird- Harry Potter Fanfic
This was originally for a picture contest thing, but I don't think she went on with the idea. I never heard from her, anyway, and the contest was from a long while ago.
This is the picture: http://www.quibblo.com/user/wolves_anonymus/photoalbum/1746532?page=14&per_page=9
In the POV of Luna Lovegood, Ravenclaw, in her 2nd year- the Trio's 3rd.
Comments are nice. :3
Chapter 1- Slytherin Girls and Bubble Gum
No one likes me. I've got no friends, not a single one in all of Hogwarts. Everyone thinks I'm a freak, and they all call me Loony. Luna's fine though, thank you. I don't like being called Loony. No one would.
It's the beginning of my second year, and, as always, I sit in a compartment by myself in complete solitude and silence. Well, except for the sounds of laughter and 'boom's from games of Exploding Snap from outside the compartment. But I try to block that out. I don't mind the solitude, it's just the fact that it's because I have no friends that I don't like.
I take out my copy of The Quibbler, the magazine my Daddy edits for, and flip to the article on Nargles. It's quite interesting, but I'm the only one who even believes in Nargles. My only friend I've ever had here, Eva-May Rotire, got mad at me one day over me trying to make her believe Nargles do exist. She doesn't talk to me anymore.
Let me tell you a little more about me. I live in a big house shaped like a rook near Ottery St. Catchpole. My mother died when I was nine after a potion incident gone wrong. Typically, when I tell people, they give me sad eyes and apologies, but I hate that. I'd rather them just nod and move on with theirs lives. For some reason, it makes me feel guilty, I guess, when people sympathize with me. Yes, it makes me sad sometimes, but I know I'll see her after death.
Anyway, my daddy's name is Xenophilius but most people call him Xeno. My mother's name was Nissa. And, as you know, I am Luna. What else... I have blonde hair and blue-grey eyes.
Yup, that's about it.
I sit in my compartment the whole ride, alone. When the trolley comes around, I eat, alone. I walk to the bathroom and get dressed, alone. And when we finally arrive, I grab my trunk and walk off, alone. And get into a carriage alone. It's pulled by these skeletal horses that I don't quite recall the name of. You'd think they'd be scary, but I think they're beautiful. But no one agrees with me anyway.
I sigh a deep sigh and sit back to look out the window at Hogsmeade station. Not all of the students have boarded the carriages yet. I become so lost in my thoughts that I don't realize when a student climbs into the carriage. With me.
Does she actually want to talk to me? I think. Maybe she didn't realize I was in here...
"Hey," she says and pops her Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. I hate gum popping. The noise annoys me so much...
"Hello," I say to her.
She surveys me up and down before asking, "Mind if I sit here?" pop. I nod and pat the seat. She's too intimidating to say 'no' to.
The girl stuffs her trunk under the seat and sits. "So," pop. "Who're you?"
I frown slightly but cough to cover it up. "Luna," I say, "Luna Lovegood. And you are?" pop. That's getting on my nerves.
"Piper," she says with another pop. "Last name? I don't bother. Not like anyone uses it, anyway," pop.
Usually things don't get in my nerves easily, but how would you like to be stuck in a carriage with some Slytherin gum-chewer like Piper? Well, I think. I assume she's a Slytherin. What else would she be?
"Are you a Slytherin?" I ask with an attempt of being polite. She throws me an odd look.
"Yeah," pop. What's it to you? You another one of those stereotypical Hufflepuffs or wherever the hell you're from?" pop. I decide I don't like this girl one bit.
"No," I say, trying to maintain my confident tone of voice. "I'm a Ravenclaw. And I didn't mean any trouble, I was just asking."
"Right then," Piper says and spits her gum out onto the floor. I must look disgusted because she sends me a glare. I just shrug it off.
I pull out my copy of The Quibbler, but Piper interrupts me before I can start reading. "What year are you in?" she asks.
"Second," I reply. "You?" I try to keep the conversation polite, but it doesn't even seem like it matters anymore.
"Fourth," she says. "I don't associate with younger children." She turns her back to me. All right, then, I think. The better for the both of us, probably.
I continue my reading and hum a little tune under my breath, one that my mother taught me. I wish someone else shared my interests, or was at least courteous to me for once. That doesn't happen often.
After a while, I look out the window and see that we've arrived at Hogwarts. Whoopee, I sigh, thinking. Another year of being made fun of behind my back. And to my face.
Piper picks up her trunk and stands up without a word. She begins to exit the carriage. As she walks out, she calls back to me, "You're weird!" I sigh again.
What a great start.