Policy of Avoidance
Luna was unflappable and cool, gazing out from between dirty blonde tresses with unfocused eyes that missed nothing and analyzed everything.
Luna lived on the surface of things, in the external unreality with which the wizarding world chose to wrap itself. It was comfortable there, latching onto every idea, treating every possibility as truth. The world expanded before her, blossoms bursting into full flower. Nothing was hidden or secret to someone who accepted all potential realities as calmly as most people accepted air when inhaling.
It was quite clear to her that no one else really lived the way she did; skepticism was the norm among her classmates, her peers. Her vision of the world was an anomaly and, like all things new and misunderstood, distasteful to them.
She knew they perceived her as vapid, flaky, impossibly odd. She was strange and they retaliated against her strangeness. She expected their pranks, their cruelty, not because she understood human nature and motivation, but because she equally anticipated the sudden appearance of Nargles in her Potions cauldron.
It also made for an existence devoid of shock, and Luna was quite content about that. She'd had enough nasty surprises in her life already, thank you very much.
Luna focused on the external, on what she could see or imagine with all the keenness of her Ravenclaw mind. When the availability of objects of study waned she toyed with possibilities, half-invented or otherwise. She kept herself preoccupied with any subject matter on hand. She distracted her mind with anything and everything, but always outside, outside, outside herself.
The internal was dangerous ground, non-quantifiable even in her imagination. If she peeled back the corners of her preoccupations, her objective perception of potential reality, Luna always encountered barriers, frightening and dark, upon which were scrawled words of warning.
The depths in which the real monsters lurked were her own.
Luna was unflappable and cool, gazing out from between dirty blonde tresses with unfocused eyes that missed nothing and analyzed everything.
Luna lived on the surface of things, in the external unreality with which the wizarding world chose to wrap itself. It was comfortable there, latching onto every idea, treating every possibility as truth. The world expanded before her, blossoms bursting into full flower. Nothing was hidden or secret to someone who accepted all potential realities as calmly as most people accepted air when inhaling.
It was quite clear to her that no one else really lived the way she did; skepticism was the norm among her classmates, her peers. Her vision of the world was an anomaly and, like all things new and misunderstood, distasteful to them.
She knew they perceived her as vapid, flaky, impossibly odd. She was strange and they retaliated against her strangeness. She expected their pranks, their cruelty, not because she understood human nature and motivation, but because she equally anticipated the sudden appearance of Nargles in her Potions cauldron.
It also made for an existence devoid of shock, and Luna was quite content about that. She'd had enough nasty surprises in her life already, thank you very much.
Luna focused on the external, on what she could see or imagine with all the keenness of her Ravenclaw mind. When the availability of objects of study waned she toyed with possibilities, half-invented or otherwise. She kept herself preoccupied with any subject matter on hand. She distracted her mind with anything and everything, but always outside, outside, outside herself.
The internal was dangerous ground, non-quantifiable even in her imagination. If she peeled back the corners of her preoccupations, her objective perception of potential reality, Luna always encountered barriers, frightening and dark, upon which were scrawled words of warning.
The depths in which the real monsters lurked were her own.