"Neville," you say softly, as you stop several feet away from him, just in case.
His eyes soften, as if just by saying his name, the word inspires him to let his guard down. Still he says, "You can't be so trusting, Luna."
You give a slight smile, unable to help yourself even in this dire situation. It reminds you of when you let one of those Hufflepuffs borrow your radish earrings in first year and found them on a Whomping Willow branch. Or rather, they eventually got them for you, because Hufflepuffs are so good at finding things.
"But I trust you," you say in that ethereal voice, distinct only to you. Your father always says you have the most beautiful voice, but you wish other students felt the same. Life as a loner has provided many enthralling -- though solitary -- adventures, and you crave friendship more than anything. Perhaps there is something strange about you, but you wish there was a way to fit in while also beating to the sound of your own drum. Would it be so much to even yearn for love?
He returns your smile and nods, and that's all you both need to form your alliance. You walk past him toward the Cornucopia, trusting that he will watch your back as you get what you've come for. There's something in his countenance that tells you to feel at ease.
You retrieve your wand and tuck it behind your ear while you wrestle a Nargle -- you think -- for Ravenclaw's diadem. As an afterthought, you grab an empty leather satchel, but students are approaching fast so you realize you'd better make a break for it. The sun is still so bright that you can't see their faces, only their silhouettes.
As you run away from the Cornucopia, slinging the satchel quickly over your body, you dodge the green flashes of light, not knowing whether or not they're coming from the Slytherins or even from your friends. You had been so happy to finally have friends that didn't take your shoes, and somehow you can't imagine people like Hermione Granger or fellow Ravenclaw Cho Chang sending Unforgivable Curses your way.
But you never know the decisions you'll make when you're desperate to survive, and as you found out in training -- when you hoped to start a Rebellion -- there has been a lot of defeatism. People just aren't the same anymore, and that's what hurts the most. You'd rather they called you weird and snickered at you in hallways and common rooms than give up altogether.
"Luna!" Neville yells from ahead of you. "The forest or the field?"
There is little time to think. The forest plays best to your strengths in knowledge of rare magical creatures, but the field may be best suited for Neville's strength in Herbology.
Should you
A) Run to the field?
or
B) Run to the forest?
His eyes soften, as if just by saying his name, the word inspires him to let his guard down. Still he says, "You can't be so trusting, Luna."
You give a slight smile, unable to help yourself even in this dire situation. It reminds you of when you let one of those Hufflepuffs borrow your radish earrings in first year and found them on a Whomping Willow branch. Or rather, they eventually got them for you, because Hufflepuffs are so good at finding things.
"But I trust you," you say in that ethereal voice, distinct only to you. Your father always says you have the most beautiful voice, but you wish other students felt the same. Life as a loner has provided many enthralling -- though solitary -- adventures, and you crave friendship more than anything. Perhaps there is something strange about you, but you wish there was a way to fit in while also beating to the sound of your own drum. Would it be so much to even yearn for love?
He returns your smile and nods, and that's all you both need to form your alliance. You walk past him toward the Cornucopia, trusting that he will watch your back as you get what you've come for. There's something in his countenance that tells you to feel at ease.
You retrieve your wand and tuck it behind your ear while you wrestle a Nargle -- you think -- for Ravenclaw's diadem. As an afterthought, you grab an empty leather satchel, but students are approaching fast so you realize you'd better make a break for it. The sun is still so bright that you can't see their faces, only their silhouettes.
As you run away from the Cornucopia, slinging the satchel quickly over your body, you dodge the green flashes of light, not knowing whether or not they're coming from the Slytherins or even from your friends. You had been so happy to finally have friends that didn't take your shoes, and somehow you can't imagine people like Hermione Granger or fellow Ravenclaw Cho Chang sending Unforgivable Curses your way.
But you never know the decisions you'll make when you're desperate to survive, and as you found out in training -- when you hoped to start a Rebellion -- there has been a lot of defeatism. People just aren't the same anymore, and that's what hurts the most. You'd rather they called you weird and snickered at you in hallways and common rooms than give up altogether.
"Luna!" Neville yells from ahead of you. "The forest or the field?"
There is little time to think. The forest plays best to your strengths in knowledge of rare magical creatures, but the field may be best suited for Neville's strength in Herbology.
A) Run to the field?
or
B) Run to the forest?