Haunted (A Luna Lovegood Story)

Luna bit down hard on her bottom lip as her pale gaze drifted over his eyes, framed by shadows, the pupils clouded over with worry, their troubled gaze staring into another dimension, it seemed like. There was no doubt that the painting she had created was hauntingly beautiful, but it also brought bitter tears of grief, frustration, and something she couldn't identify, threatening to break through the feeble dam she had naively been trying to construct the whole summer.

She felt powerless and empty. Painting had always been her sanctuary, her only real home. Portraits of strangers were lined up across the walls in her room, held up by a simple sticking charm. Luna had always loved drawing people, especially imaginary, made-up people she had never met. On particularly lonely days, she would talk to her portraits, although they would never respond. She always used muggle paint, buying it in the nearby village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Wizarding paint was expensive, and her father flatly refused to buy any; he considered it a waste of galleons. Still, even though her paintings were stationary, she sometimes felt like they could hear every word she said to them; that somehow, under the two-dimensional surface she had smeared with oil paint, there existed a sliver of soul.

Each summer, she had taken out her paint, pastels, and chalk as soon as she arrived home from the Hogwarts Express. Over time, new faces would accumulate; young, old, dark, and fair. They became her only friends, silently watching her draw and paint; they never sneered at her or whispered amongst themselves like the way her classmates did at school. She would confide in them, and they would sit, silently listening, which was enough for Luna; no one else ever did.

This summer had been different. As soon as she had apparated home with her father from King's Cross, she had wordlessly dropped his arm, gone inside the house, and started to paint. But no matter how many portraits she tried to draw, no matter how hard she tried to vary her strokes, the end product was always the same. It didn't matter that she had purposely given the boy she was drawing bright blond hair; over a span of days, she had found herself dipping her brush in first brown, then black, subtly adding highlights to his hair. Little by little, the boy's fair hair had succumbed to darkness until one day, a familiar face wearing untidy black hair, piercing, but troubled green eyes, and a thoughtful expression gazed back out at her from the canvas. She had always destroyed the painting or drawing in frustration before she could add glasses.

Luna knew that to him, she was nothing more than an acquaintance, only someone he passed in the hallway every day without so much as a glance her way. But the truth was, she had missed Harry Potter terribly ever since he had fought alongside her at the ministry. The desperate look in his eyes as he had rushed forward to save his godfather and his friends had filled Luna with an emotion she couldn't explain. She remember seeing him break down into sobs after the six of them took the portkey back to Dumbledore's office after the ministry battle, and she remembered how during the remaining week of school, Harry had always walked in the halls, head down, still mourning his godfather, despite Hermione Granger telling him he needed to "get over it and move on."

Luna knew it wasn't that easy. Hermione Granger had probably never lost anyone she loved, or she would understand that sometimes it took months or even years to recover from that kind of grief. Her father had gone insane after her mother's accident; he was still unstable and violent at times, or sometimes he sank into depressions, locking himself in his room for days at a time. There was nothing Luna could do to help him; not even a cunningly whispered cheering charm could make a dent in his depression. After all these years, Luna wasn't even sure if she had even gotten over her mother's death herself.

She knew how he felt, and she desperately wished she could help him, but she and Harry weren’t very close. She usually didn’t let anything like that stop her from comforting others, but Harry was different. She always felt self-conscious around him, something she had never experienced before in her life. Luckily, Luna was fairly good at hiding her true feelings and tried to be herself around Harry, even though he was always tailed by his friends who always seemed to put him down. Ronald could be funny sometimes, but he was more often mean, pointing out flaws and making fun of people like Neville Longbottom. Hermione was often impatient with Harry, scolding him for every minor thing he did wrong. Ginny was just plain annoying, flipping her red hair, giggling a lot, and not-so-subtly trying to flirt with every male member of the DA, including Harry. Neville was all right; despite his flaws, he always tried to see the good in people.