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He would never love me.

Why would he ever even want to love me.

It was late.

The moon hung in the sky bathing our faces in its milky glow.

It was very late, we would be leaving tomorrow morning, and no one really knew for sure if we were ever coming back.

The red headed beauty resting her head in my lap turned in her sleep; the moon light filtered in from the large bay window, and lit up her face.

I absentmindedly stroked her fiery mane.

I sigh, she had long ago stopped crying but I could still see the tear marks and the red irritated skin, And yet despite that she still looked like an angel.

I can see why he loves her.

She honestly held out from crying as long as she could, she was not familiar with showing weakness growing up in a house full of boys, where emotions would be shot down, ignored, and teased, but the emotional strain of the past few days had taken their toll, she couldn't hold out forever. Though it wasn't until sunset, when we were sitting on the cushions of this window, thinking about the past few days, that she finally broke down from the tears that she had been suppressing, I think He was the final breaking point.

He broke up with her this afternoon; in fact it was right after the funeral.

No matter how much I know thinking about it makes me a bad friend, I can’t help what I hope for in the dreams of a crazy girl.

But no matter how much I hold on to my desperate wish, I know it's not true He loves her. He broke up with her to keep her safe, and for my own fragile sanity, I have to accept that.

For how could He ever love me, when He has her, waiting for him to come back?

How could He ever love me, when He has Ginny Weasley?

I stare at the celestial body I am named after, the haziness disappears from my eyes as I am struck by the cruel, harsh reality of this world, a single tear falls onto her face.

As she stirs in my lap I wipe the tear off my face and, the hazy faraway look returns to my eyes.

For that is what I will always be, crazy girl who could never let go of the desperate dreams that consume her life, the ones that will never be true.

As she finally opens her warm, fiery, brown eyes I know he could never love me when he has her waiting.

For why would Harry Potter who is not only the boy-who-lived in my eyes, he is Harry the boy who understands what it feels like to be alone, the boy who understands me, how could he ever want me.

"Hey Luna" she says in her half asleep state.

I smile down at her, and tell her to go back to sleep.

For how could anyone ever love Loony Luna Lovegood when they have Ginevra Weasley.