Meeting Luna, understanding that life isn't all what it's should be.
AN: Ok, just to let you all know, the majority of this story is in Luna's POV.
Fine Thread of Hope
Everyday, everywhere that I go, there is always news of the great Harry Potter. The way the media portrays him is nothing like the boy I knew. The Harry Potter that I knew was quiet, shy and hated being under the attention. He never minded my difference to others. Most Ravenclaws tended to avoid me, thinking I was contagious and they might catch my 'weirdo' disease. But Harry, he didn't care. He didn't care that he looked stupid talking to me. Me. The one that everyone avoided. The way they show him to be, is much like our late Professor Snape would call him, 'Always has to be the centre of attention.'
Today in the papers, there was a major announcement that Harry Potter had agreed to work for Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt. This new Minister, I have to add, is a whole lot better than the previous two. But he still doesn't believe any of the stuff my daddy writes for his magazine, /The Quibbler/. The Minister says it is a very creative piece of work. As if. See, Harry is different to others like that. He says the truth, not what is wanted to be heard. Nevertheless, since Daddy printed his interview, we've been much better friends.
It must have been fate that we were to meet each other today. I was walking down Charing Cross Road, gaining a few interested looks along the way. Not that I cared. Harry was coming out of the Leaky Cauldron and we quite literally ran into each other. He helped me back up onto my feet and held the door open for me. Graciously I said thank you, because, quite frankly, the only other person to do that for me is my Daddy. Instead of continuing on his way, Harry turned around and followed me to atable, where he sat opposite me, placing a glass of butterbeer in front of each us.
I took this opportunity to greet him.'Hello Harry Potter,' I said, it was then that I took a good look at him. Instead of the man that fancy photos splashed on magazine front covers, a dull, tired teenager was sitting before me. Below his eyes, deep blue-gray rims were bordering hanging, while his lids seemed to be drooping with invisible weights.'Have the Furrowed Wing Dormiedos gotten to you?' I asked curiously. Harry stared blankly back at me. I laughed a little; there was the Harry J. Potter that I knew!
'The what?' he questioned, screwing up his face comically.
'The Dormiedos silly! Everyone's heard of them.' His blank stare told me a hell of a lot. 'The other name for them is sleeping bugs. They attack any person and don't let them sleep,' I explained, sad that he didn't know yet another of the animals that my father had spent so much time researching. 'They were in last month's edition of The Quibbler.'
His face brightened, 'Oh! I think I read about them! They were the funny coloured ones weren't they? The purple and yellow spotted winged er... thingy?' I suppose that once he realised what I was talking about, he quite suddenly remembered that he did indeed find the time to read the article, and could still remember parts of it, even if it was amid other parts of paperwork for the awful Ministry that Harry seemed to have been lured into working for.
'Yes,' I agreed.
But he denied having caught sight of the Dormiedos, instead having too much work to possibly think about sleeping. Isighed; this surely wasn't good for his body. Instead of spending full hours in an office, Harry should be travelling, getting to have some fun for once. It wasn't fair, I realised, Harry had spent most of his childhood growing far too quickly. Not once was he allowed the simple gesture of a hug, never was he allowed the fun and games of a child. He was made to work, work, work! And that is what bothered me. If no one else was going to do anything about this predicament of his, then surely I would have to step in.
'Harry Potter?' I asked, cautiously.
'Yes?' he replied, glancing up from his butterbeer to look at me.
'How long have they held you for?' I said, carefully explaining myself at his odd face, 'How long have they made you work for? At the Ministry of Dung-beetles'
Harry laughed. That simple emotion flooding through his worn face. I have to admit, I was quite proud of myself, he did look quite handsome with a smile.
'Far too long,' he replied, in between choking gasps of laughter.
'You mean you want to stop. Get away from it all?' I asked in disbelief. If he really wanted to get away, then why didn't he already.
'Hell yes,' he answered, finally calming back down, 'Bloody Kingsley won't let me though!' At this, he hissed. I'll assume a couple of choice words came through in Parseltongue. It made me wonder whether any snakes were around, but I avoided that train of thought quite quickly, being scared of them as I was.
'So if you had the opportunity, to get away from it all, you'd take it?' I asked, testing the waters a little.
'YES!!' he shouted, causing a few turned heads.
'Ignore them Harry. What would you say if...' I hesitated, made up my mind and continued. 'What would you say if I said I was going travelling in a month? AND I asked you to come with me?'
Harry sat there. Harry Potter was gobsmacked. Now, why hadn't anyone else thought to do this before? I wondered.
'Do you mean it?'
His question shocked me to the core. Now, I was normally a very open person, but I never expected this from him. But just thinking about what his 'family' had told him as he grew up was enough to make me angry, so I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself to answer him.
'Yes Harry, I mean it.'
Once reassured that this was no joke,(honestly, have I ever been known to joke around??) Harry agreed, quite eagerly, to come with me, and for that I was glad.
'Okay. And that was that. Plans weren't needed to be made; we had a sort of, mutual agreement that I'd owl him so he could get ready.
Finally, he stood up. Where I sat, Iwatched him with sad eyes before following his lead, but exiting from different ends of the pub, Harry onto Muggle London, myself to Diagon Alley. Before Ileft my home this morning, I was rather excited to be able to get out into the hustle and bustle of the Wizarding mall, but now I was rather dreading it. But nevertheless, I didn't back down now, what a Slytherin thing to do! It was almost with a reluctant feeling that I tapped the bricks, and entered the world that had been mine since my birth.
That night, while talking to my daddy we came up with a plan. The unspoken words between Harry and I were that I would let him know, but I first wanted to find out when we were going. Daddy proposed we leave on Christmas Eve. He had a good reason for that date too. Not only was it in less than two weeks, but it would give Harry the chance to be able to up and go from his position at the ministry on a day he wasn't due in for work. Of course, we'd have to hide from incoming owls for a few days, or maybe a few weeks knowing Ron and Hermione as I did. It saddened me to think that they could see him falling apart before them yet they did nothing. They were supposed to be his friends. Friends. What a cruel word. Such a big title for someone; or even someone's who did absolutely nothing when they could have had the biggest affect in the world.
The following day, things went as per usual; Daddy went off to print this month's magazine, Harry Potter apparated to another day of gruelling work with the other Dung-beetles that worked in his building. But I headed for a different direction. I conveniently caught up with Harry as he entered the atrium of the Ministry of Magic and followed him into his office. Everyone around him thought I was with him, so they didn't bother me whatsoever. Funny. I would have had thought that it would be much harder to enter the Ministry without security attacking me after what happened in his fifth year, my fourth and then the fiasco of his stealing of the locket from Umbat, er Professor Umbridge.
Harry's office was quite large. And very messy. No doubt that's what happens when there is no Hermione to clean up after him. It must be a Gryffindor thing, to be so messy. You see, us Ravenclaws are not like that. Smart yes. Unbelievably smart, yeah that too. But messy?Definitely not, you see, we have our own organisational system, others would call it a mess, but we actually know where everything is, where each pile begins and ends ... or something like that.
While Harry sat down at his office, Ihovered behind him, checked that the coast was clear, and then sprang. Well, not really, but it sounded good. I did, however creep up behind him; scare him half to death and handed over a letter. He turned around, thanked me and placed the letter in his bag and shifted his attention back to the growing pile of paperwork in front of him. I turned on my heel and left the office, my work here is done.
I knew he would open it in his own time, when he was ready he would owl me. Leave me a message so as to know where and when to go. I would be ready when he was.
As I exited the atrium, I attracted a few odd looks, no one remembered me walking into the building so it caused abit of confusion. But I didn't care, I was waiting.