DISCLAIMER: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter universe in any way, nor do I make money from my writing. I am grateful to be able to borrow the characters for a short time.

It was the first day of the first new school year since the war ended and the entire castle was buzzing. Repairs had been made as best as could be and classes had started again.

Three Slytherin boys were walking down the hall and talking. One was telling a story about how he heard a Ravenclaw girl talking about these crazy creatures. "She called them narlies or margles or something. She said they hang around and steal things when no one is looking. I swear she belongs in St. Mungo's special ward."

One of the other boys questioned him, "Do you mean that repeat 7th year? The one with the long blonde hair? Walks around with a smile all the time?"

"Yes, her."

"I remember her from our first year. I think it was her 4th. She is a little on the…odd side." The conversation continued in a 'make fun of the crazy girl because you fancy her' way that boys do.

What none of the boys realized is that a Ravenclaw girl in their year was walking behind them and heard every word said. She couldn't let it go. Luna was wise and kind and everything that was wonderful! And these twits were making fun of her? It made her angry when people made fun of Luna. She knew these three boys from prior classes and as they all approached a classroom, she realized she had Arithmancy with them, in fact, they sat next to her in the class. After the war, seats were assigned rather than sitting with your house and friends. Turning to the boys, "You know that in the muggle world they don't think unicorns exist. And merpeople are a fairytale. Werewolves are things you tell your kids at night to scare them."

"What is your point Post?" One of the boys said. "They're muggles; who cares?"

"My point is that we know these creatures are real, but they don't. Just because someone can't see them doesn't mean the creatures aren't real. And I care; I'm muggle-born."

"Post, you are as crazy as that housemate of yours."

She smiled brightly, "Thank you! Although flattery won't get you anywhere with me. I'm just saying keep an open mind. You never know where it might lead you." Just then the professor walked in and Post grabbed her bag and started to pull her needed items out of her bag. While everyone else was pulling out quills, ink pots and parchment she pulled out a BIC pen, clicked it to expose the ballpoint and flipped open a spiral notebook. All three boys watched what she was doing until their attention was pulled to the front of the room and the professor.

After the class ended, Post packed up her things faster than any other student. While they had to organize their parchments and stopper their ink bottles, she un-clicked her pen and closed her notebook before sliding them back into her bag. "See you next class," she said to the boys and walked out.

A week passed and the boys noticed she had other odd things in her bag: several of those strange paper things with wire in them, more clicky writing things and these bizarre multi-color writing things that she used to cover words in books, but you could see the words through the ink. Finally, one had to ask her, "What is all that stuff?"

She looked down and saw her usual work and study equipment set out in front of her. "What stuff?"

"All that stuff!" He waved his hand over her desk and expressly pointed at her pen.

"This? This is just a pen. This is a notebook, highlighter and my textbook." She pointed to each item but was still baffled.

"What's a pen?" the same boy asked.

"It's a compact writing instrument. Instead of using a quill that has to be re-inked constantly and breaks a lot, I use this. It's got ink in it so I never have to re-ink it and it doesn't break as easily. Makes it faster to take notes and stuff." She showed them her almost full notebook. "I have a different notebook for every class I take. Keeps things neat and in order."

"That's amazing. Where did you get it?"

She raised her eyebrow and slowly said, "The grocery store; before term. I bought a bunch of them because I didn't want to run out." She answered them as if she were talking to her 3 year old cousins.

They had more questions but class was called to order and the conversation ended. After class before she could leave, the boys stopped her again, "Is that stuff a muggle thing?"

"Yep. They stopped using quills and ink pots about 100 years ago. This place really needs to get with the times. I mean it's almost the 21st century, ever hear of electricity?! Or cell phones? Or a light bulb? I'm kind of tired of sucking in all this smoke from these wall sconces; I'll probably get cancer or something from it."

All three boys just looked at her like she was crazy…again. They were obviously baffled. "What?" Before she could try and explain again, the warning bell chimed to remind them to get to their next class. "Never mind. Come on, guys we're going to be late." And the three boys hustled off towards whatever class they had next.

It was the end of the week before one of the boys approached her again. He seemed bashful, "Can I try one of your writing things?"

"You mean a pen? Sure!" Post handed him a blue pen. "Just push on this end and the part that writes comes out this end. Push it again and the writing part retracts. But the teachers here don't like them. I take my notes with these, but I have to switch to the old quill and ink for my essays and reports." She made a face of contempt for the old-fashioned writing instruments.

He took the pen and was examining it. He seemed to enjoy making the clicking sound. "Hey, remember when we were talking about that blond 7th year?" He was trying to act casual about his question but wasn't sure he pulled it off.

She eyed him, "Yeeesss. What about her?"

"Not her so much as what you said about muggles. Do they really think unicorns aren't real?"

"Yep. No unicorns, dragons, centaurs, trolls, giants, magic or anything."

"How can they not know? I mean just look at them - they're huge creatures…" he paused. "They can't see them because they aren't magical, can they? I mean muggles can't see dragons because muggles aren't magical. Magical can only see magical."

"That's my guess. When I call my mum, I tell her about these things so she knows they are really real and all, but even when I take a picture with my phone and send it to her, what she receives is blank."

He had so many questions now he didn't know where to begin. Unfortunately, the signal for the next class chimed and they had to split up. Later that day in the library he approached Post. "Can you tell me more about muggle stuff?"

"Right now?" Post asked.

"Now or whenever. I just cannot believe some of the stuff you said they didn't have."

She pointed to the pen in the boy's hand, "and some of the stuff they do have?"

He held up the pen, eyed it, then smirked at Post, "I love this thing. You aren't getting it back."

She laughed and moved some school work to the side so he could sit down. "What do you want to know first? I'm sure if we start with what you want to know, you will find things you want to know; you know?"

"No, I don't know, but ok." He smiled at her to let her know he got her joke. "They really don't know about magic. I get that it's to protect us. But to not know about dragons! I mean didn't someone fly one over London last year?"

"Yes but if muggles can't see magical creatures, why would they see someone flying a dragon around London?" She waited a beat, "But some people did see it."

His eyebrows shot up, "they did?"

"Yes. And other muggles laughed at them and called them crazy when they talked about seeing it."

"But they saw the dragon, how can people call them crazy! They SAW it!"

"Sure, and Luna sees Nargles but you still laugh and call her crazy," Post responded. "In fact, there's a whole muggle science called cyrptozoology that tries to find these creatures and prove they exist. Those people are laughed at all the time."

"That's not right. I mean if they SAW a dragon, they would know. It's not something you can forget."

"Agreed, but not everyone can see them; only certain people can."

"You mean magic people." He looked a little sad.

"No. My mum is a geneticist and she thinks that muggles who see magical creatures might be descendants of squibs. She is also looking into if most muggle-borns are descended from squibs." The boy had a blank, glazed look on his face. "Where did I lose you?"

"What does you mum do?" he asked.

She went into a brief description of what genetics were and what the scientists who study genomes do. "When we found out I was magical, mum traced my DNA," Blank look again so she explained further, "DNA is the building blocks for who we are. It's why you may look more like one parent over the other. Or when people say, 'Oh he has your dad's eyes' they mean your eyes are shaped or color like your grandfather's eyes." He nodded his understanding but she wondered if he really got it or not. But she continued with her explanation anyway. "Anyway, she traced our genealogy too. We found out we're distantly related to a magical family called Flint. So I guess that kind of proves her point, doesn't it?" She looked at him and knew she lost him again. "Where this time?" She asked.

"The part where your mum studies garden gnomes and that other thing."

She started over and explained, in more detail this time, about DNA and family lines. She used terms he would have an easier time understanding and, miracle of miracles, it worked; he understood. "Wow! So you and your mum think that muggle-borns and muggles who can see magical creatures are distantly related to magical people through squibs. Right?"

"Exactly!" She smiled at him.

"You must have an easy time in Muggle Studies, huh?"

"Not really." Her face fell. "I think I'm going to fail. I keep arguing with the teacher because he keeps getting stuff wrong and I just can't keep my mouth shut."

He broke out in a laugh. "Why? What does he get wrong?"

"Everything! Just because the wizarding world hasn't changed a single thing in like 500 years, clothes included, doesn't mean the muggle world has stood still, too. The muggle clothes he shows as 'disguises' are a mix up of about 80 years of fashions. And any idiot can tell that you don't put purple and orange together. Or orange and green or lime green and fuchsia. Those colors are horrid together whether you're a muggle or not. And the last one he showed us it was a mix of all of them. I swear! Blech." She made the 'throw up' face.

He was doing his best to not laugh at her. "Anything else he gets wrong?" He didn't really care, but she was very entertaining.

"Pocket watches! Nobody in this day and age uses a pocket watch. Try a wrist watch if you must, but most muggles carry mobile phones and there's a clock on them so why wear a watch at all?"

He was about to ask her about a cell phone but he felt his stomach growl. He drew his wand and cast a tempus charm. It was time for dinner. "Wow, that was fast." They collected their stuff and headed off to the Great Hall chatting about muggle stuff.

They broke off and headed for their house tables when they entered the Great Hall. While he was sitting with his friends, one of them piped up, pointing at someone, "There's that crazy Ravenclaw again. What's her deal? I swear I saw her looking straight at a wall for like 5 minutes!"

After his conversation that afternoon, he had to say something, "Just because we can't see what she sees doesn't mean she's crazy. It just means she's… well, she's…Did you know that muggles can't see dragons?" The boys around him just looked at him. "I mean, they can't see these giant creatures. But we can. So we know they're real. But they can't see them so to them it's all legend and myth and people who say they saw a dragon are laughed at and called crazy. I'm just saying that because even if we can't see what she sees doesn't mean what she sees isn't real. So…you know…stop making fun of her. She might be proven right one of these days…" he trailed off as he saw the looks of disbelief and shock on the faces of the people around him. Not just his friends but the other Slytherins around them.

He could feel the heat on his cheeks and kind of wished he hadn't said anything. He grabbed a serving bowl of food and piled the food on his plate. He lowered his eyes to his pate and but didn't eat any of it. He was just pushing food around on his plate while his friends laughed and moved on in their conversation. Without warning he felt a hand on his shoulder and noticed that the surrounding conversation had ended.

"Thank you." She smiled at him; her blue eyes full of compassion and affection. Her long blond hair surrounded her like a veil, and her radish shaped earrings only added to what made her who she was. She squeezed his shoulder before turning and skipping out of the great hall.