What if Luna Lovegood ALSO Lived on Privet Drive?

What if Luna Lovegood ALSO Lived on Privet Drive? Merch: https://thetheorist.co/hbt Darth Theorist: Youtube.com/@DarthTheorist Three Eyed Theorist: Youtube.com/@ThreeEyedTheorist Discord: https://discord.gg/vHuV3H64Wb Voice Acting & Narration: Steven Waters @bobablackfly602 , James Kingdon @jameskingdonvoiceactor Writing: Myself, @nicholasmartin6526, @khuz377 , @PathofDragonsRadio, @TheITinFIT , and @Megara Nine year-old Luna Lovegood sits alone on the floor, painting. The single candle illuminating her room reveals a grisly scene on the canvas: a small, golden figure reaching out helplessly as a violent explosion consumes a white-haired witch. Xenophilius Lovegood watches his daughter from the doorframe, his heart breaking ten times over. Luna’s always been a quiet child, but she’s grown especially withdrawn following the death of her mother. Rather than exploring the gardens or picking dirigible plums, she keeps to herself, recapturing the tragedy in watercolors as if trying to change her fate. Xenophilius grips the letter in his hand. There’s been reported signs of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack by a muggle neighborhood in Surrey. The opportunity to capture proof of its existence is too good to pass up. Xenophilius: Luna, dear, pack up your paints. We’re going on an adventure. Luna: Oh, it has been a while since we journeyed somewhere. Will we be gone long, Dad? Xenophilius: For a while, I think. It might be just what we need. Lovegood scrapes up enough money to buy a house on Privet Drive. He believes he has enough information on muggles to blend in with them. He would be wrong. The neighbors can’t help but stare at this shaggy-haired interloper wearing bright orange bellbottoms, a tie-dye shirt and white leather jacket. Luna’s dressed more conservatively by comparison, but her radish earrings and the doxies embroidered on her jumper raise some eyebrows. She eyes the ordinary house of Number Five, a perfect replica of all the other bland houses on the street, with some apprehension. Luna: It’s rather square, isn’t it? Very much like a box. Xenophilius: Aye, but we can make it our own. In time, it won’t be just a house, lass. It’ll be a home. And these fine people will be our neighbors. (to Vernon, cheerful) Good morning! Fine day, isn’t it? Vernon: Blasted hippies, what is this neighborhood coming to? Someone ought to call the police. There should be a committee for this sort of thing… Luna: Dad, are muggles supposed to look that purple? Will we turn colors here? Xenophilius: Must be the nargles, Luna. That’s why he’s destroying that hedge with those enlarged scissors. Petunia Dursley shares her husband’s disgust over these strangers but can’t look away. Horror slowly dawns on her face as she and Vernon realize they’re moving in next door. They usher a curious Dudley back in the house, ignoring Harry, who’s also come out for a look. His gaze meets Luna’s, bright green on misty silver. She gives him the first friendly smile he’s ever known. Luna: Hello, I’m Luna. Did you know you have nargles in your hedges? Harry: Um, No? I’m Harry. What’s a nargle? Luna: Usually they infest mistletoe, but they also nest in wigs. Sometimes they’d steal the plums that grew outside my old house. I’ve got glasses that can let you see them. Harry: Cool. Can I have a look? Luna takes Harry by the hand and leads him into Number Five. Clashing wallpapers and photographs of the Lovegoods, which appear to be moving, cover every inch of the walls. The sounds of a printing press echo up from the freshly dug basement. There’s a bed partly stuck in the fireplace, and rows of newspaper pages hang from clotheslines that stretch across rooms. Harry: Wow, this looks great! I’m sure it’ll look even nicer once the unpacking’s done. Luna: We already finished unpacking. But Dad said he’ll let me paint a mural in my room as soon as he can afford new paints. I’m thinking of me and him riding the Crumple-Horned Snorkack through Ottery St. Catchpole once we find it. Xenophilius: Well well, it appears you’ve made a friend, Luna. Welcome to the Lovegood household. I am Xenophilius, Luna’s father. Harry: Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Harry, Harry Potter. Xenophilius: What a coincidence, we know of a boy with that same name - no, it cannot be. That scar! You’re him. You are Harry Potter! Harry: Um, yes, I am. I’m sorry, sir, but do I know you? Xenophilius: My boy, there isn’t a wizard in the world who doesn’t know the name Harry Potter! Would you be interested in doing an interview for The Quibbler? Harry: The WHAT? A wizard? Luna, what’s going on? Xenophilius: Why, you don’t know who you are, do you? Luna: It’s all right, Harry. Me and Dad’ll explain things. What follows is a thorough, if somewhat skewed, lesson on the Wizarding World.