An Open Letter To Luna Lovegood
I first met you when I was 11 and you were 14. As I waited out the grief of not having received my Hogwarts letter by reading about your more famous friends, you appeared out of nowhere. Sitting on the carriage, reading a book. And when you said, “You’re just as sane as I am,” I knew you were after my heart. And I was so right!
You were different from others, you believed in things no one else believed in, and I believed you. So much so that whenever my mind got fuzzy, I knew it to be wrackspurts, when my things went missing, I blamed the nargles (they always came back anyway, although not in the way I expected them to). And if I were true to myself, I even saw a Blibbering Humdinger yesterday! (I swear I did)
I didn’t care what Parvati and Lavender thought (I could honestly punch them in the face for being mean to you). In my opinion, you were the ultimate fashion icon they had at Hogwarts. Whether it was those radish earrings, the lion headgear (talk about Quidditch appropriate styling huh?) or the oversized wrackspurt glasses, you were always dressed to the occasion. Don’t worry, all those who made fun of you were just jealous.
Your optimistic perspective of life was unnerving. Some might say (not me though… I believe you) that your association with wrackspurts, nargles, and horned snorack was just a way for you to push the negativity around you to the corner and focus only on the positive. Like the time when you blamed the nargles when someone *tried* to bully you by stealing your purple quill and stripey socks.
All the wanton witch in me wanted to learn from you the secrets of your unapologetic self. You were unearthly and different and dreamy. Wherever you went, a refreshingly eerie air surrounded you. You taught everyone how being a Ravenclaw didn’t always had to mean that you were a bookworm. You embodied the true meaning of wisdom and I am sure you made Rowena Ravenclaw the proudest.
You were simply a braver version of me. You were a badass with dirty blonde hair and a unique sense of aesthetic. A smart Ravenclaw with the heart of a Hufflepuff. I wanted to be like you. You helped me accept myself the way I was by loving yourself the way you were. You were so much wiser than those around you. So fluid in your emotions and so observant in your interactions. An all-rounder, you were secretly the strongest of them all.
But you were also soft. Your Quidditch commentary swept me off my feet and had me on the floor laughing, but you also made me cry when you talked about your mother. Remember that time when you painted the faces of your friends on the ceiling of your bedroom? Yeah! That made my eyes water too. The way you tended to the forgotten Thestrals with the hand of a compassionate friend taught me how to care for animals (no wonder you married Newt Scamander’s son). And then the fact that you befriended an abandoned ghost of a slandered daughter, the tender manner in which you closed Dobby’s eyes and thanked him for rescuing you and your friends, the way you comforted Harry after the battle of Hogwarts, reminded me how well you knew and understood pain and loss, almost as if it were an old friend.
And so, after knowing you for seven years, I am still in awe of you. And I am glad that you got the happiest ending there could be. Luna, you deserved the world, and you still do. And I would just like to tell you how grateful I am for your existence. You calm me. Like the lunar moon does a lonely, wandering deer. You are crazy and I love you for that…. Guess that just makes me a Lunatic.
Your admirer always and forever.