This was not ended the way I had planned.  I do not know why.  It just… happened.  Thinking back, though, Luna is more in-character the way this is.  If you're so interested in what I had planned, then you can ask.  Yes, I'm playing with Boy!Blaise in this one.

Lucky for myself, I don't own a drop of anything.

Of Course.

He noticed that she liked to stand in the wind.  She never watched the trees whip around, and she never moved.  She simply stood in the wind.

Not that he cared what she did, after all.  Not that it mattered to him if she stood out in the rain and died from pneumonia.  He couldn't care less about her.  She was mad after all, stark raving mad.  She was loony, wasn't she?

But she never was quite as loony when she stood in the wind.  Her shoes would always match, and her socks would be plain and gray.  When she was out in the wind she wore small gold hoops in her ears and the butterbeer cap necklace was nowhere in sight.  Her arms hung limp at her sides and her head tilted back, as if she were staring up into the sky.  Which she never was, for her eyes were closed.

He made no attempt to hide the fact that he was watching her, but she never seemed to notice he was there.  She was lost in herself for as long as the winds blew viciously.  She let nothing come in her way when the winds blew.  There were rumors, Pansy had told him one day, that she had walked out in the middle of Charms because a thunderstorm had picked up outside the windows.  He wouldn't have put it past her.

If it was simply raining, she would dance like a fool; tall striped socks slipping down her pale legs, her necklace chiming around her neck, and everyone taunting and making fun of her.  Her large eyes would be open wide, taking in all the sights around her, from the smallest raindrop on a blade of grass, to the splash of the giant squid in the murky lake. 

When it snowed she ventured out with the few friends she had- Weasleys, perfect little Potter, the Mudblood, and the Squib.  The six made a rag-tag bunch, most of them bundled up in worn cloaks and patched scarves.  Together they would have snowball fights, and he would noticed the skeptical looks the boy Weasley would give her, and the infuriated stance of Granger when they started talking about what she did and didn't believe in.  He sometimes wondered if they took any notice of him, but they never seemed to, so he was never bothered by it.

She had a specific action for each type of weather, and he knew them all quite well.  When it was foggy she would sit on a bench in the courtyard and sing to herself, when the sun shined enough to warm the school she would swim in the lake with the giant squid.  During thunderstorms, when the rain fell straight down in heavy sheets, she would tuck herself away in the library and read trashy romance novels her father sent her.

And when the wind would blow, she would stand.  When the wind whipped the trees, threatening to tear them from the earth, she would stand.  She would stand in clothes people never knew she had, and she would close her eyes to look at the sky.


Millicent found him in the library one afternoon and demanded he go see Mandy Brocklehurst immediately.  "She's got someone who wants to talk to you."  The tall Slytherin girl simply shrugged and turned away.  "Don't ask me," she muttered, "I'm just the messenger."

He hadn't been in the Ravenclaw commonroom in over a year, and like everything else in Hogwarts, it refused to change.  The setting sun was throwing blinding rays of light through the large windows and the walls were covered with bookshelves of every shape and style.  The moment he stepped into the room three girls in blue ties pounced on him.

"We want to know what you want with her," the first girl spat.

"It's not normal to follow people around, you know," the second one, Mandy, the only one he knew, whispered.

"If you're going to do something, then do it," the third one hissed.

He pulled himself from their sharp grips and turned on them, crossing his arms in front of himself.  "I demand you explain before attempting to assault me again."  Behind him, he heard a soft voice singing, apparently while coming down a staircase.

"They're interested in why you watch me so often," the voice sighed.  The quiet singing picked up for a moment and he tried to hear what was being sung.  He turned to the voice and saw her take a seat on a leather ottoman.  The singing stopped and she smiled up at him.  "They can't continue taunting me until you do something."

He suddenly wondered where the rest of the Ravenclaws were, and what was going to happen to the blonde girl once he left.

"I'd like you to come with me."

She looked up from a book she had begun to read, and he wondered if she was surprised at his statement, or if her eyes were just that wide.  She shook her head.  "No thank you."

He ignored the three girls snickering as he walked over towards her.  "Please."

"Look at that," one of them giggled, "the ever-powerful Blaise Zabini saying "Please!"  I thought I'd never see the day!"

He ignored them again and held out his hand.  "The wind's blowing, Luna."


She dropped his hand in the hallway and he supposed it was a good thing she did.  She eventually went back to singing and he smiled at the words he didn't quite understand.  Her voice was soft and mellow, and a few notes off-key he bet.  Each time the chorus came around she changed the beat, and each time it sounded like a brand new song.

She stopped harshly before they stepped outside into the wind.  She proceeded to remove her butterbeer cap necklace and pineapple earrings, placing them gently in his hands before smiling up at him.  "Please hold these for me."

She fished her small gold hoops from a pocket and put them in her ears before sitting on the ground quite ungracefully and pulling off her shoes.  Her socks, he saw, were simply on inside-out.  Her shoes, he learned, matched perfectly except for the coloring spell on one of them.  She quickly ran her fingers through her hair before stepping outside.

They were both silent for a moment, as the wind howled around them.  She stood on the damp grass, and he leaned against the wall of the castle.  "You can ask me why, you know."  Her head was still tilted up and her eyes were still closed.

He never expected her to talk to him.  "I… Uh… Come again?"

She dropped her head down and opened her eyes, looking at him with a blank expression.  "You can ask me why.  Why I do this," she gestured around her as the wind blew her long hair around her, "why I do anything.  You can ask me.  I won't mind."

For the first time in his life he felt flustered.  Any other girl would just tell him, or tell him to leave.  Not say what she was saying.  Of course, they wouldn't stand in the wind either.  "I… I just assumed it was… personal, I suppose."

"Hm." She slowly nodded her head.   "Yes," she concluded, "Yes, it is personal, but aren't all things that are best to share a bit personal?"  She tilted her head back up and closed her eyes.  "So ask me, Blaise."

He was quiet for a moment, focusing his eyes on the jewelry in his hand.  The tops of the pineapples were poking into his hands and the last cap on the necklace was slightly sticky.  "Why, Luna?  Why do you stand in the wind, and dance in the rain?  Why do you play in the snow and swim with the giant squid?"

Luna smiled to the sky, lifted her arms, and twirled.  "So you could ask why, of course."