Disclaimer: I own nothing you see here, besides the story-line. Joanne Rowling owns the rest.

The world's not as black and white as people want to believe. An overused cliché, I do realize, but a true one nonetheless.
My name is Luna Lovegood, Loony Luna to some. And there is more to me than people realize, because just like every other person on this planet not everything about me is obvious at first glance. I have yet to meet anyone who is that shallow.

I like to watch people, they're more fascinating than muggle television (which you have to admit is quite amazing). Sexual tension, divided loyalties, jealousy, lust. hatred, fear, giddiness. The range of human emotions is astounding at times, I am often surprised by the intricate workings of the human heart and mind.

There's one place in Hogwarts that I spend the majority of my free time. It is a small stone seat set into one of the walls of the courtyard. During my first year I had been watching an argument between Harry Potter, his friends and Draco Malfoy and his followers. While wishing I had a better vantage point I had stepped backwards, and stumbled into the wall.

Hogwarts Castle seems to have soaked up so much magic over the last millennia that it has to have at least a limited cognizance of its own. I know this because when I fell backwards, I dropped down into a surprisingly comfortable seat. While it looked like just a corner of the edifice that had been cracked off long ago, it felt like a very comfortable and warm chair. And just moments before it had been a solid stone wall, and would have injured me painfully if I'd fallen against it.

Now of course I was never one to waste time, so I just went back to surveying the conflict. After all, what will asking 'how' change anything? Besides, it is never polite to interrogate one's host. So I just whispered a soft thank you and continued to watch the show.

Like I said at the beginning, the world's not just black and white, good and evil. Rather it is shades of grey, a wide range on a scale from Angelic to Demonic. And nothing and no one stays stationary on that scale, people move up and down it during the course of their lifetimes. Some to more of an extreme than others.

I was approached by one such an example one day while observing the flocking rituals of fourth year girls. It was very sudden, one minute I had a clear view of the trio of my subjects, the next all I can see is a black robe with a silver Slytherin prefect badge neatly attached.

Pausing for a moment in study, I discovered the fact that the metal serpent looked as if it had recently been bitten by a secsix. They are rather bothersome pests after all, and tend to enjoy the necrid taste of the flesh of poisonous snakes every few weeks. And when not nibbling on the green and silver house's mascots, they prefer to spend their time inserting ideas about inequality into the minds of every person they pass.

"Whatcha up to Loony?" Interrupted the wearer of the robe. I looked upwards to the figures face and was mostly unsurprised to find that it was Draco Malfoy. "Did the Girl Weasel finally realize that even a poor blood traitor like herself can do better in the way of friends?

I shrugged. "Ginevra's in the library studying."

The somewhat confused look he sent to the ape men on either side of him was not fully lost on me. Interested me actually. Was he upset I wasn't becoming defensive and insulting in return?

My eyes settled upon the grunt to his left. Gregory Goyle I believe. His mostly vacant expression was tempered by glints pf cruelty, loyalty and amusement. I suspected that the first centered on me at that moment, so the other emotions must have to do with his association with Draco. And I wondered which of the two kept him forever at the blonde's side.

I was just about to study Vincent Crabbe when my thoughts were loudly interrupted.

"Potty, the Weasel and the Mudblood get sick of you licking their boots did they?"

I blinked slowly. "That's not physically possible, you do know that right?" He seemed to not understand what I was speaking about so I tried to explain further. "If she truly had some sort of silt in her veins it would either kill her slowly and painfully, or it would be quickly and efficiently be filtered out of her system by her kidneys. If the percentage was low enough of course."

I turned back towards the third year only to discover that the group I'd been observing was now openly staring at Draco. I sighed; I would have to wait until later to continue my study of group dynamics in thirteen-year-old females (same house). That muggle scientist Jane Goodall said that observers should have little to no interaction with their subjects for an unbiased study.

Gathering up my things, and stood, slipping my book and quill into my bag. Slim, long pale fingers pulled the blue and bronze bound journal back out. I watched without moving as Draco Malfoy smirked and flipped open the cover.

"Only if we understand can we care.

Only if we understand can we help.

Only if we help shall they be saved."

Jane Goodall

He glared at me, his face showing the barest hint of confusion. But it was practically smothered by suspicion, as if I had manipulated his entire day just so he would steal my book and read it.

I knew that the muggle Goodall had been speaking about chimpanzees she had devoted her life to saving. But I had thought from the moment I read an article on her that the quote could just as well apply to Voldemort and his misguided beliefs about muggles. I wondered if Draco had thought the same.

My amusement must have been clear on my face, because he scowled further. Then he slid my book into his own bag and turned on his heel to leave. His guard dogs followed.

"Malfoy?" I called over the crowd. He paused and turned his head slightly, but did not look at me. "I need that back by curfew if you don't mind."

As I left I could feel his silver glare boring into my back.