Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter... least loved, now, by the girl who prefers your friend... second best, always, eternally overshadowed.
Deep down, he knew that she wouldn’t pull such a horrendous joke on him. No, she was one of the few that he could trust when it came to realism— she was a bit odd, but regardless, she was one of his friends. Which is why none of this sat right with the Gryffindor. She was too young, too full of life. She had everything going for and to hear that her life was going to be cut short— it saddened him.
As he watched over her features, he felt a sense of calmness from her. It was baffling. She was to die and yet she seemed okay with it. Perhaps even better than okay, she seemed to not mind in the slightest.
Honestly, this angeredhim. He snapped.
“A month left? That’s it? Why?”
Arms folded over his protruding chest, his eyes narrowing at the smaller female. No, she was not to die. No matter the reasoning behind it— he wouldn’t allow it. It was foolish in his eyes. “It’s complete rubbish! You’re not gonna’ die, Luna. I’ll make sure of it.”
“—Luna Lovegood, to be precise. Reckon it’s a bit awkward, calling me by my last name when I don’t play Quidditch.” That logic was clearly sound, clearly. Nonetheless, she’s certain that’s the main context in which she’s heard other students refer to each other as such. “—but I suppose that’s up to you.”
Her reasoning flew right over his head for a moment– bit odd, this one. He s'posed Quidditch was something that was often tied to when one would see his face; not that he was some Quidditch king, but more so because the Weasleys were known for their Quidditch capabilities. Then again, perhaps he was thinking too hard when it came to the girl’s logic and it might be best to just leave it alone. “Er.. right. Luna. Ravenclaw– we’ve got a match comin’ up against your team, right?”
