Chapter Text
Summer was absolute hell, Voldemort had just returned, on top of nobody believing him in the wizarding world he was stuck at the Dursley’s with no contact to the wizarding world with the exception of the daily prophet that was constantly calling him a liar.
But it had passed, somehow being at Hogwarts made it even more horrible, despite being with his friends; since he had the impression even they didn't believe him. At least they tried to hide it, unlike a good majority of the school who would whisper things and avoid him. He so wanted someone to relate to, that had gone through something similar and actually believed him. Someone “different”; just as he was. The dirty blonde girl he met on the carriages at the start of the year didn't even occur to him as being a possible friend.
On a cool Saturday afternoon, he had gotten mad at Ron and Hermione over not understanding him and saying empty words of support so he decided to go for a stroll. He stopped by Hagrid’s hut, but he wasn't there. All he had known was that he had gone on a trip by Dumbledore’s command, he was so angry at everybody, but it seemed that he was the most angry at Dumbledore. The man he saw the most as a paternal figure was ignoring him and refused to tell him anything. Matter of fact nobody did, he was the one to have seen Voldemort’s return yet they kept him unaware, how unfair. Usually he would have ranted to Hagrid but since he wasn't there he decided to go into the open area of the forbidden forest. He thought about how he probably wouldn't even have talked to Hagrid if he had been there.
Once in the forbidden forest he was so focused on his thoughts and didn't even notice the thestrals or the girl with dirty blonde hair playing with them.
“Hello- Harry Potter.” Her soft dreamy voice echoed through his mind as he was startled by it
He walked carefully next to her, he honestly didn't want to see anybody but it seemed rude to not answer and leave as his first impression had gone badly. He noticed she wasn't wearing any shoes.
“Your feet, aren't they cold?” He stated as she looked down at her feets
“A bit” She paused for a moment as she looked at the thestral, it was then that Harry saw them, black skinny creatures who barely had any skin on them, practically just bones walking. “-unfortunately all my shoes have mysteriously disappeared. I suspect the nargles are behind it.”
One of the thestrals walked near them, it was quite big and uncanny up close in the wild.
“What are they?” He asked gently with genuine curiosity in his voice. Luna had this weird soothing effect on her, his past hatred for the world had now disappeared as his mind was filled about questions on these things and her, who was she?
“Theyre called Thestrals, they're quite gentle really but people avoid them well because.- theyre a bit.-”
Before Harry knew it he had spoken. “Different.” For a few seconds they stayed in comfortable silence seeing the thestrals stretch their wings. “Why can’t the others see them?” Harry asked
“They can only be seen by people who’ve seen death.” Luna assured his worries about going mad, technically she did back then at the carriages but it wasn't really convincing.
“So you've known someone who’s died then?” The brown haired boy asked.
“My mum, she liked to experiment but one day one of her spells when badly wrong, I was nine.” Harry felt some sympathy for her, as he knew how it felt to lose loved ones.
“I’m sorry”
“Yes it was rather horrible, I still get quite sad about it sometimes. On the bright side, I've got dad and I get to see them.” Their attention both went to the multitude of thestrals. As she pulled out a piece of raw meat and threw it at a baby thestral.
“We both believe you by the way, that he’s back, that you fought him and the ministry as long as the daily prophet is plotting against you.” Her words seemed more sincere than anybody else’s, it warmed his heart, a feeling he hadn't felt since the graveyard.
“Thanks.” Harry didn't feel like pushing himself to speak around her, he felt as if she would understand how it felt to try to speak but having nothing right come out. “Seems you're about the only ones that do.”
“I don't think that’s true, but I suppose that's how he wants you to feel” She paused. “If I was You-Know-Who, I would want you to feel isolated from everybody, because if it's just you, you're less of a threat.” Her words sank, it all made sense, like a revelation that was just waiting for the right moment to reveal itself. He would have some apologies to make to Ron and Hermione. He gave her a real smile, a rare sight, she responded back with one, she was reasonably charming.