Hogwarts Express: A Train Of Thought
After three years now, the countryside along the route of the Hogwarts Express is very familiar - hills and forest, moorland and farm. There’s something oddly comforting, Luna thinks, in how the world can go by outside the train windows as it always has, even when it’s just been set on its edge.
Just as there’s an odd sort of comfort in knowing the truth of a situation, even when it’s a truth you’d rather not be true.
Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.
Luna had never doubted that Professor Dumbledore would tell them the truth of things, though he had waited until the Leaving Feast to do so. Prior to that he had simply instructed them all not to trouble Harry Potter with questions about what had happened.
Poor Harry Potter. Luna had felt badly for him before, but even more so now. No wonder he’s spent the week since the Third Task looking like one of the castle’s ghosts.
People will doubt the truth, of course. People always do. People already are - Luna had heard a thread or two of disbelieving whispers on the walk to the Hogsmeade station. It's not surprising, of course. People are frightened.
Luna included. The thought of You-Know-Who being back is, frankly, terrifying.
But she doesn’t doubt that it’s true.
It is my belief-and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken-that we are all facing dark and difficult times.
And that’s the really sobering point, isn’t it? That things might get much worse from here.
Might. Not inevitably. But might.
That Cedric is only the beginning.
Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right, and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort.
Luna, for all that she is given to thinking about things, has never been overly given to introspection. To thinking about who she is, what she might do about something, and why she might do it. Mostly, she's never had to. She's always been comfortable enough in her own somewhat off-kilter skin that she's never bothered. A situation will arise and she will simply address it as she sees fit in that moment.
But things are changing.
And the thing about train rides? They give you a lot of time to think.
To wonder what you might do if confronted with certain choices.
To wonder if you are, in fact, a brave person. And wonder if you'll be placed in the position to find out, irrevocably, one way or the other.
Countryside slowly begins to give way to brick and concrete and steel, and soon enough the Hogwarts Express is pulling into King’s Cross. The platform is crowded with families, all of whom look a little more anxious than usual to meet the students getting off the train.
Luna knows, from overhearing Professor Flitwick and Madam Pomfrey, that a letter had immediately gone out to the parents telling them of what had happened at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. And there are surely precious few who haven’t gotten additional letters from their children on the subject. Luna had sent three herself. She doesn’t think it’s her imagination that welcoming hugs seem to be longer and tighter than they normally are.
Luna has to squeeze her way through several knots of people before she finds her face suddenly pressed into a well-worn robe that smells like ink and burned toast. And there’s a button digging uncomfortably into her eyebrow.
But that’s okay. Because it’s Dad.
Dad holds onto her for a long time, his nose resting on the top of her head, before giving her one last squeeze and letting her go.
“Come on. Let’s go home,” he says.
Home. And a quiet summer. And more time to think about things. Time to talk things over with Dad and the Cooks and Mr. Spring and Auntie George.
And then hopefully when the time for making choices comes, Luna will trust that she’ll know how to see what’s right.
Just as there’s an odd sort of comfort in knowing the truth of a situation, even when it’s a truth you’d rather not be true.
Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.
Luna had never doubted that Professor Dumbledore would tell them the truth of things, though he had waited until the Leaving Feast to do so. Prior to that he had simply instructed them all not to trouble Harry Potter with questions about what had happened.
Poor Harry Potter. Luna had felt badly for him before, but even more so now. No wonder he’s spent the week since the Third Task looking like one of the castle’s ghosts.
People will doubt the truth, of course. People always do. People already are - Luna had heard a thread or two of disbelieving whispers on the walk to the Hogsmeade station. It's not surprising, of course. People are frightened.
Luna included. The thought of You-Know-Who being back is, frankly, terrifying.
But she doesn’t doubt that it’s true.
It is my belief-and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken-that we are all facing dark and difficult times.
And that’s the really sobering point, isn’t it? That things might get much worse from here.
Might. Not inevitably. But might.
That Cedric is only the beginning.
Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right, and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort.
Luna, for all that she is given to thinking about things, has never been overly given to introspection. To thinking about who she is, what she might do about something, and why she might do it. Mostly, she's never had to. She's always been comfortable enough in her own somewhat off-kilter skin that she's never bothered. A situation will arise and she will simply address it as she sees fit in that moment.
But things are changing.
And the thing about train rides? They give you a lot of time to think.
To wonder what you might do if confronted with certain choices.
To wonder if you are, in fact, a brave person. And wonder if you'll be placed in the position to find out, irrevocably, one way or the other.
Countryside slowly begins to give way to brick and concrete and steel, and soon enough the Hogwarts Express is pulling into King’s Cross. The platform is crowded with families, all of whom look a little more anxious than usual to meet the students getting off the train.
Luna knows, from overhearing Professor Flitwick and Madam Pomfrey, that a letter had immediately gone out to the parents telling them of what had happened at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. And there are surely precious few who haven’t gotten additional letters from their children on the subject. Luna had sent three herself. She doesn’t think it’s her imagination that welcoming hugs seem to be longer and tighter than they normally are.
Luna has to squeeze her way through several knots of people before she finds her face suddenly pressed into a well-worn robe that smells like ink and burned toast. And there’s a button digging uncomfortably into her eyebrow.
But that’s okay. Because it’s Dad.
Dad holds onto her for a long time, his nose resting on the top of her head, before giving her one last squeeze and letting her go.
“Come on. Let’s go home,” he says.
Home. And a quiet summer. And more time to think about things. Time to talk things over with Dad and the Cooks and Mr. Spring and Auntie George.
And then hopefully when the time for making choices comes, Luna will trust that she’ll know how to see what’s right.