JK ROWLING owns Harry Potter, we just all love him.
Major spoilers for the end of Deathly Hallows. This is Luna-centric.
I have friends. That is my happy thought.
My mother died in front of me when I was very young. So young, that many people don't believe me when I say I remember it. Children are not supposed to remember such morbid things.
But I do, and I truly believe it has made me the person I am today.
Not very many people take me very seriously, but that's all right.
People consider me, well, loony, but that's also all right.
They don't believe in the things I believe, they think I make up those creatures that are the horrors of the night. No one truly understands the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Or even Wrackspurts, though I don't prefer them either.
Then again, not many can see the Thestrals, either, can they? But everyone just accepts them as being real.
Sometimes, people only see what they want to, so they can't see anything else.
That is how most people see me, though, really, they don't see me at all, just what they want to see.
I have my father and he is my greatest supporter, and I am his. I wish sometimes, people would take him more seriously, though he doesn't seem to mind.
So you see, I went into my fourth year thinking it would be like every other, me accepting what others could not.
I did not know Harry Potter, except by name and occasional spottings of him in the hallways. I believed him though. My father always believed Voldemort would return.
So you see, when I realized he could see Thestrals, and I advised him I could see them too, it was, for the first time in my life, pleasant to be speaking to someone, someone who, at least a little, understood.
I joined the DA, proudly, and yes, even a little bravely.
I'm sure that I was considered welcome by many, but there were a few that I knew would like me to stay. Harry for one, Neville for another, and Ginny more than likely. Hermione isn't sure what to think of me, I think I frighten her because I'm not...normal, whatever normal is. Ron finds me amusing, I believe, as do most people.
I am a bit useful though, aren't I? After all, would Dad have accepted an article by Rita Skeeter if I hadn't asked him to? That woman is an abomination, and as annoying as Wrackspurts.
Still, no one is laughing when I help them to allow Harry in Umbridge's office. Or when I go with them to the Ministry of Magic. There is hesitation and noble words of 'You might get hurt,' but no one is laughing.
I am told later by Ginny, in hushed and admiring tones that I should have been sorted into Gryffindor. I think she means it as a compliment, it's such a Gryffindor thing to say. I'm happy where I am.
It's just another happy thought.
And in the beginning of my fifth year, on the train, I sit with Neville because I know he won't deny me, he is fiercely loyal, that way. And then when Harry comes, and he's talking about the DA meetings, well, it is rather disappointing. My day is made, however when those girls come and tell Harry that he doesn't have to sit with Neville or I. I think, for a moment, he'll go, because he is, of course, not really my friend.
But then he says that I am his friend. I am being claimed as a friend. Someone likes me, truly, although they may think I'm weird.
And though I may not see them as often as they see each other, it is nice to see them across the Great Hall at dinner, or in the halls, and be able to wave at them and have them wave back in a generous way, and not the way that some people do, when they're humoring you because they think you're crazy. That isn't very nice.
I really enjoyed doing the commentary for the Quidditch match, and I really wish people will take me seriously about Loser's Lurgy, it's a very serious affliction. Later, after I delivered that parchment to Harry and Ron complimented my commentary, I felt almost too happy for words. Especially as I was walking off and heard him say I'd grown on him. At first I was afraid he meant the Gurdyroot, but then I figured it out. Another friend.
I think I always knew Ginny was my friend, but she never came out and said it, and so a few days after she and Harry began going out, I caught up to her in the hallway and offered congratulations. She looked surpirsed to hear it, but she smiled quickly, and when I told her happily that I couldn't wait to see what sort of children they produced, her smile became a loud burst of laughter and she reached out and set her hand on my arm, looking up at me. "Luna, I think you're the oddest friend I have, but I don't know what I'd do without you."
I do think it is disappointing that only Neville and I responded to our coins from the DA. After all, the classes might have been over, but the threat is still there. We need to fight together now more than ever.
I am loyal, you know, and I observe a lot. I think that's best sometimes and no one really expects it of me.
I'm very saddened by Dumbledore's passing. He understood me, and he always made me feel welcomed in his office on those days in my first year when the students were so cruel. But I think he would have been pleased with his funeral. I had to argue with that silly nurse forever before she allowed me to go, but honestly, I think I could have relied on Neville to help smuggle me out.
I sit in my room when I get home and think very hard of the things that make me happy, and then I pull out my drawing pad, and draw each of my friends to remind me of those reasons to fight and to stay happy. I even hang the pictures above my bed, so I can see my friends at all times, and know that we're all still fighting.
As a new year begins, it is so different, I am almost not willing to even call this place Hogwarts. Still, though, the fight will continue. Those of us who have stayed behind ensure that.
I catch Ginny staring wistfully at the grounds several times, and smile at her gently before prodding her into her next class. She misses Harry very much. I miss him and worry about Hermione and Ron as well. I help Lee with his broadcasts and even get to talk myself occasionally.
I won't talk about when I'm taken away to that dark place. It is very scary, and it's very hard to remember my happy thoughts. I'm reassured by the strangest thoughts though. I'm reminded of a Muggle story called 'Peter Pan' that Hermione told me about, and in the darkest times in that story, happy thoughts can save you.
I even manage to make a friend or two while I'm there.
And when help comes, well, I knew my friends would save me.
That's the best thing about friends. You save each other.