When the woman mentioned that she was Luna, all Megan could do was shake her head at her. She couldn’t be Luna. Luna was sixteen. Luna was sixteen and safe within Hogwarts, she didn’t understand why this woman would lie, but she had to be. Megan just stared at her, she was familiar though. The eyes and the clothing and the way she spoke. She was a very good fake Luna, but fake was the emphasis there. But she was asking strange questions and Megan didn’t know how to answer them other than honestly.
“1997.” Was all that came out. Megan clung to the tree as a wave of dizziness washed over her, threatening to take the already unstable girl off her feet. Slowly, nervously almost, Megan reached for the jacket and pulled it around her, grunting through the pain of simply moving.