Loony Luna Lovegood (seesitdifferent) wrote in plagued_logs, @ 2016-10-21 21:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | 1999 october, george weasley, luna lovegood, rolf scamander |
WhoLuna and OPEN
What: People dont think Ollivadner's is safe, Luna disagrees.
When after the Binding
Rating L for Loony.
Luna had gone mad, and what was worse, was that she knew it. She had seen madness in her father, the fear and torment of the past few years coupled with his shakey grip of reality since her mother passed had left him in a huddled mess in their home. He still wrote, he still published, but the joy that was there before the war had left him, giving instead into paranoia and fits of solitude that even Professor Moody would have admired. She had seen madness in the hospital, the weeks they kept her in the ward of maladies with the other madmen as they waited for something akin to memory to return. The way the people wandered, lost and confused by the reality around them.
They were all lucky, they didn't see their grip of reality slip through their fingers. For them it was all at once, for Luna, it was a leaky faucet.
The war had been bad enough, taught her to fear the dark and enclosed spaces, then the confinement to the school and village had forced her to deal with those whom she would rather have never seen again. Then the theft of her memories, leaving holes in her nightmares that she was certain were worse than the images gone. Now it was Ollivander gone - her one lighthouse in the storm crushed against a rock. It was those same people confused as she was outside, shouting in the dark for answers. Shouting questions she didn't have answers to.
All Luna could do was hide. So she ran, ran back to the shop she called home, ran through the doors in search of her old friend. Ran to her small up-stairs flat when she realized she was alone, locking every door with every jinx she knew. Neville might not have thought she was safe, but there was nowhere else for her to hide.
And hide she did, holding the wand that Ollivander had made for her in both white-knuckled hands she sat with her back to the locked door. George had said he was coming, Neville wanted her to leave - even the fellow Rolf had offered to bring her food in the morning. Everyone wanted into small shred of safety, and all Luna could do was keep herself from hyper-ventalating. Slow breaths, deep breaths, count to five, and count to ten. Slowly, carefully... stay with it just a little longer. Stay aware just. ... a little longer.
The door-handle jiggled.