Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. J.K. Rowling does.

Author's note: Thanks again to Mistress Siana for her advice on this chapter.

Angles

For every cause, there is an effect.

Most wizards understood this law very well and adhered to it in all manner of magical mastery. But logic was not part of this law (unlike its Muggle counterpart) or their world, thus making the isolation of one Luna Lovegood quite the paradox.

Eliza Wordsworth was part of this paradox, rather the instigator that would set off a series of events with unforeseen consequences for a number of notable wizards. Including the Boy-Who-Lived. Especially the Boy-Who-Lived…

No matter how clever a Ravenclaw may be, they are not seers.

Eliza herself was a witch of extraordinary background, from a family known for their ruler straight adherence to rationality. Her mother was a researcher for the Department of Mysteries and a member of Investigators of Magical Menace and her father was a top-ranked Ministry official. Sense was of the utmost sensibility for these pure-bloods.

The problem for Eliza was Luna Lovegood was the most nonsensical of persons, who also happened to be a nasty, little showboat. An instinctive, natural enmity for the girl uncurled in the pit of her stomach just looking at the jangling bottle caps or her wispiest of smiles. If Eliza believed in such things, she would have considered the feeling to be an accumulation of past lives…in which Luna was her fated opposite and unwitting foe, with each rebirth, daring to become more…loony.

Eliza had watched the disoriented first year wander to the table after the Sorting Hat sealed her fate as a Ravenclaw, seemingly taking her time to get to a seat and drawing all the attention to her at the expense of her house mates. She was quite put off at the relay of snickers and rolled her eyes at her child-hood friend, Olivia Malvern.

Of course, she had put out the effort to be cordial at first. The first impression that had buried itself inside of her could always be covered up. To her credit, she had been nervous too, before her Sorting. She too had to endure the clicking of an invisible tongue in her thoughts, in her head. Indeed, it said, you shall live up to your expectations.

This puzzling statement bothered her. Maybe the odd girl, who seemed to be of wild sort, had had an unsettling experience as well. As she had gazed down the table, feeling a thickening presence of a buffered disorder, Eliza had made a clear case for her house mate.

Surely, she had thought, this behavior is a case of nerves. I'll reserve my judgment until we exchange words.

A good rule of thumb. That had promptly failed. In this rare instance, instinct had prevailed over reason.

After the feast had ended, Eliza was introduced to her new place of residency all with the other first years. Strangely, the entire time she had been aware of Lovegood's presence. The girl, who had loitering in the back of the group, had mixed in the wrong line when the Ravenclaws had crossed paths with the Hufflepuffs, and had stopped to chat with portraits. Her voice sounded off to Eliza, up and down, or upside down. No distinct order and something underneath the voice that twisted, snapped, and popped. It was as if some ghost of a girl had decided to join them in their academic pursuits. Ghosts didn't have reason; there would be no need.

The girl, who had seemed to be attempting to take in the whole of the castle through her eyes, eyes that were never quite right. Eliza had felt distinctly the feeling of being observed and studied, like she wasn't on the same level as Lovegood. Like they all were interesting, funny creatures.

She had felt all this before they had even reached the entrance to the Ravenclaw Common Room.

Still, her initial approach was to be tested and tried.

Eliza and Olivia had found their room to be to their liking. A subtle shade of blue, not too loud. The room seemed fairly spaced, the right amount of the length between the beds. Eliza had been concerned. From the look of the other rooms in the castle so far, it could be safely assumed that most were mazes within themselves.

She had been in a decent mood enough to smile at Lovegood who entered the room last. Another first year had taken the bed next to her, thank goodness, so Luna had been left taking the one nearest the window.

Yes, she had felt better. Until she heard the humming. Well, it hadn't been humming. Humming implied a tune soft and with a melody.

The girl's motions were so haphazard, hands wandering here and there while suddenly pulled back as Luna changed her mind on the disorganization of her space. It was like watching a badly reenacted play, where everyone knew the lines except for the actress. In contrast to the restrained mannerisms of the others (who folded, pressed, and fluffed), Luna was a raging hippogriff. Moreover, there were sound effects.

'I think I will place you here…no, no, you wouldn't be in the light, how about in the window, oh, I had it in my hands, where did it get off to…"

And to Eliza's dismay, the rambling continued, muttered in extreme concentration.

"Oh, hello…" Luna whispered, sitting cross-legged among her scattered items, with a dreamy smile.

In shock, Eliza looked down at the mess in the center of their room.

A pile of rocks, mismatched socks that moved, onions, radishes, turnips, bent forks, clocks of all sizes with no numbers, brushes with only a few remaining prongs, books with pages half torn out, crumpled newspapers rolling about, feathers, brass knobs, hair in bottles (of what sort she could not tell), keys, and hats both tall, wide, and furry (that one moved), a live newt. Folded, preserved wrappers, all-seeing spectacles (which her father had except his pair actually had lenses), and circular disks…

"What are those things?" Melissa Fernhart asked, pointing at the disks.

"They're Muggle objects. My dad found out that Muggles use them to see rainbows, as they can not conjure up a storm to make a rainbow."

…dodgy-looking pair of teeth, dancing quills that clicked annoyingly upon the stones, broken bottles, a tea cozy, a pile of bottle caps, empty bird cage…the only normal things were her clothes and a photograph alongside her books. Examining the moving picture closely, Eliza assumed that was Luna's mother and couldn't resist the thought 'Looks like she didn't inherit her mother's features or her sanity…' For she assumed the woman was sane as her eyes didn't flicker as much as her daughter's and her smile was in moderation.

She felt a bit bad about that bubbling thought later but honestly, she was annoyed with the mess that seemed to creep into every corner of the room within minutes.

Something in her seemed to snap as it nestled itself smugly into the very back of her folded clothing she had yet to put up.

"Who do you think you are?" Eliza growled. "Bringing this rubbish into our dorm? Are you trying to be funny?"

Luna tilted her head, puzzled.

"I can tell you right now that I, for one, am not amused. And neither is anyone else. I know your type."

Eliza looked at the stunned face of soft spoken Fernhart and glared. Luna still looked perfectly puzzled and opened her mouth slowly, as if speaking to someone of low intellect.

"These are my things. And a dorm is a place for things. And…I've never really thought about who I am. I just assumed I was me."

"Well, you disgraced Ravenclaw today, for your fifteen seconds of fame, and apparently, plan to continue onward with your…sordid nonsense. I don't care about this dorm really, if you want to live likethis, you can do so. But, outside this dorm, I warn you …you'd better remember house pride and have some dignity."

A distinct look of hurt flashed in the girl's eyes but disappeared so quickly that Eliza wondered if her words had gotten through at all.

Luna continued to gather her things, replacing them and moving them about, humming another tune.

"What, can't think of anything outlandish to say, Lovegood?"

Luna had stopped, blinking up at her.

"Your last name is Wordsworth," she had said mournfully.

"What of it?"

The blonde shook her head slowly, sighing as if let down by some unnamable rule. That was when Eliza had realized…

No, nothing was realized at all. No amount of epiphanies could make Eliza understand why she, a normally kind girl, react so unlike herself, as if someone had snuck in through the back door of her head and used the Imperius curse. Why did she gain a discordant euphoria and desperation around her class mate? Subconsciously, nestled in the half of herself she ignored, was where the answer was.

Eliza Wordsworth was afraid of Luna Lovegood.

Afraid in the most basic sense…the most human sense anyway. Lovegood was unbound, seemingly beyond her subdued peers in thought or behavior, and then there was the lack of...there was innocence that some deep part of her wanted to crush. She began to see those erratic eyes everywhere, shifting from one focus to another, sometimes not there and sometimes…too aware…

She wanted to shake the girl hard, make her wake up. Make her look like the rest of them. What did Lovegood know? Did the twit dare think herself better than the rest of them, so much so that she didn't deign to act within normalcy? There was a scent of disaster on the wind with this girl. Wake up, so she wouldn't have to see a living cocoon waiting to break open.

Such thoughts had made a home in her head, making her first night before classes a battle for futile sleep. She pushed herself further down into her bed sheets, watching the curtains beside her suspiciously between the folds and struggling for rest.

Behind her shut eyes, lights danced and when her eyes shot back open again, a glowing, bouncing dart of light clanked and cluttered on the stone and threw sputtering sparks everywhere, one right on her clenched hand.

The brunette gasped in alarm, waving her hand as if it had been burned and fear making her head spin. The enchanted marble rolled its course charted by the cracks, and ended up under her bed. A second later, the curtains opened and a rumpled dirty blonde head, with her wand tucked behind her ear, poked out.

"Oh, Merlin, did you see where my marble went? They're my daddy's and he gave them to me before I left. I don't want to lose it."

"Sorry…I was asleep, like every sane person at this ungodly hour. I have no idea about the state…of your marbles, though I can hazard a guess," Eliza hissed and hurriedly shut the curtains. Late into the early morning, she heard the girl moving around the dorm in search of the missing marble but didn't come near her space.

The beautiful, mermaid-scale crafted stone lay gathering dust long after the War until an unsuspecting first year came across the lost treasure.

But, needless to say, Eliza's self-justified jab tore her nature into a chasm. That's when she decided to take action. It was a sense of reason that motivated her. Make Lovegood see reason.


Eliza was in quite a turmoil when she threw open the entry to find a solid, uncaring stone wall and no Loonies, with confused (knowing) eyes, in sight. The cool space seemed to laugh at her.

Melissa peeked over her shoulder, gasping. Terry Boot pushed his way past her. Eliza didn't know why he had stayed around after several not-so-subtle hints had been made for him to do quite the opposite.

"What are you lot up to?"

And after not getting an answer, he had remained the whole time, pretending to be engrossed in a book. Until Loony tried to get in. He had tapped her shoulder in an annoying fashion, whispering "Do you think this is a good idea?".

Now, she realized, this hadn't been a good idea

"Bloody hell. Did you hear a struggle?" Terry turned in the corridor, standing judiciously as if he was ready to dole out blame.

"We've killed her…" Melissa broke out, grasping her hands in a nervous motion. "We left her out there, a-an-and the Heir took her. T-They'll expel us! Break our wands! My father-what will he say!"

She was cut off as Eliza shoved her. Boot sputtered indignantly at the act.

"What is wrong with y-?"

Eliza aimed her wand at Boot.

"Locomotor Mortis," she said clearly. After seeing her curse was effective, she smirked. "Best come in, Boot. Don't despoil the halls."

She sneered but inside, she was screaming.

"What is this?" he hissed, jumping feebly back into the Common Room.

"That will teach you to mind your own business, won't it? And you'll be in for worse if you don't keep quiet."

She freed the curse. The tall second-year flushed in embarrassment and anger and stormed out the stairway, muttering.

Eliza quickly Silencio-ed both of her companions.

"Now listen here, the both of you!" she choked out. "Think of your family, think of your future! There is no Heir, Fernhart. It was a ruse to mess with the perfect Potter and you know it, so don't be so naive! Loony wandered off to have a show while we tell on ourselves…when we did nothing wrong. She was out there already, by Circe, and a few extra minutes didn't kill her."

Fernhart whimpered slightly, her eyes suspiciously wet.

Olivia motioned impatiently at her throat and Eliza lifted the charm after delivering a scalding warning.

"I will not be a part of this ridiculous charade any longer. Sure… Some Slytherin was having a go at Potter. Let's go to bed before Boot comes down here again."

"If you speak about this later, to Flitwick, to anyone…you know my knowledge of hexes."

"I'm not in the mood, Eliza. I don't want this on my record any more than you do. And neither does Melissa. If you don't bring down the whole house with your shouting…"

Melissa muttered under her breath.

"Pardon?" Olivia eyed the hysterical girl with disdain.

"Th-there is a Heir. I know it. Dumbledore. I saw his face. He believes it and so do I."

"Dumbledore is just like Lovegood. Dramatics, that's all. I don't bet that many students are roaming the halls and pursing the Restricted Section now, are they? Makes his job easier," Olivia said, longing for her bed and stash of Chocolate Frogs underneath.

Yes, life was just right bloody dandy.

"I'm going upstairs," she proclaimed, feeling a headache settling in and turned her back on the two, with her head held high. Later she heard her dorm mates' bed rattle and Fernhart's sniffling which she blocked out with a muttered 'Tacitus'. Briefly, she wondered what the morning would bring and if she would be yanked out of bed by an Auror for questioning…she fell into a troubled sleep, dreaming about being trapped in a vault by the goblins that had revolted yet again.

Strangely enough, there was a Posnickel pinging off the walls madly, singing 'Beware the Hair, Beware the Hair,' to the offbeat tune of Warbeck's love ballads.


Luna gazed up through her parted curtain of hair at the small Gryffindor. She had made no move to get up as she was knocked back rather hard. She had never seen someone at this angle anyways. Sitting back on her hands, she smiled dreamily.

This view did something quite odd to people's eyes.

Like make them flash and glint, darken…like an eclipse. Her father had taken her to see an eclipse of the moon, of any light, and she wondered if the moon would get sick of hiding eventually. It must be shy, coming out only in steps, moving the veil only a bit at a time. How rare with eyes, though. Luna decided she should sit like this more often.

The Gryffindor moved, drawing out her wand slowly.

'Oh, she doesn't need to pick up my books for me. Daddy always said clean up your own mess.'

Luna began to pick up her aged copy of Uric the Oddball, Merrick's Theorem: In depth, Moon Magic, and Underwater Mysteries: Merspeak Made Easy. She really didn't want creased pages, sighing as the books were spread-eagled on the ground.

She eyed the shoes in front of her all the while. Flecks of red were on the soles she noted. Maybe Ginny painted. That reminded her.

"Oh, I suppose your mum didn't sprout kittens then," she replied to the shoes. She replayed the words in her mind, wondering if that was the correct phrase.

There was a pause above her.

"I certainly hope not," Ginny replied, dryly.

A different beat. She loved listening to people's voices, with their own little beats, pauses, and intakes. It was their pulse. In the train, Ginny's was clipped and bouncy, and it went quite well with the train, barreling down a tunnel. These pauses were long and tone carefully crafted and woven, dipped into mahogany shine, and was coming from somewhere in deep in tunnel, somewhere part of the tunnel.

Perhaps she had just been nervous on the train.

"I'm terribly sorry about running into you. I was in a hurry against time. You see, past midnight, the castle comes alive, and I at least want to be in the library."

"Oh my, I wasn't aware of that. Whatever shall we do?" Ginny asked, in a solemn tone.

"Nothing to worry about. Remember the tricky thing about worries. Everything just shifts around a bit, and you don't want to be shifted. The stones move, and everything inside the walls come out for the night. But the books don't move, otherwise the library would never been organized even if Madam Pince kept at it forever. So that's the safest place."

"Inside the walls? Where did you get an idea like that?"

Luna blinked. Where…she didn't quite know exactly where. It had occurred to her secret tunnels and the like, and Ginny's tone reminded her of tunnels, and then the Oddball and things moving the stones, like clockwork and magical clocks when it chimed midnight. Such a strange question… to ask where an idea came from…they just pop about really.

"From my mind," she answered lightly.

It seemed that Ginny hadn't given much thought to…thoughts. Besides the walls have ears as her father is often fond of saying. She didn't want them to think too badly of Ginny.

"Ah, I see…What are you doing outside your common room, especially with monsters lurking about?"

Something was definitely drifting under that tone, tons of driftwood and deflated Quaffles and poisonous Nightshade.

For once, Luna withheld the truth.

"I just really wanted to finish reading, and my friends didn't want to be kept up. And…the library's the best place."

Ginny tilted her head with a smirk as if sensing her slight revision of the events. Well, she did want to finish her book. It wasn't finished unless she had read it again and could be inside it for a spell in order to wrap her mind around it (as her father said often).

"Words are like amaranthine, impossible for a true blue monster to understand," she finished, her hands tightening around the Oddball and feeling strangely self-conscious, a foreign and decidedly unpleasant sensation.

She assumed that is what it was…with her heart thumping like a moth ready to burst from her mouth.

"So a monster will not be in the Hogwarts library."

This declaration seemed to delight the red-headed immensely, where she shook with ill-disguised laughter. Luna thought she was being very silly indeed.

"Ah, vide de sens poetry. How very Ravenclaw."

She didn't much care for that at all, her unease burning up inside her like a thousand candles. She didn't understand the words but knew what they meant. Feeling caught in a net she was determined to get free from, Luna made to go by the first year.

An arm shot out to stop her.

"A prefect is down that corridor. I just passed him. In fact, speak of the devil…"

Footsteps drew closer to the pair, a light indicating the progress of an illuminating hand of justice. She was momentarily distracted by the way the magicked light bounced off the windows and made the designs appear to be like a net, where the whole of Hogwarts was captive. Petrified, she shuddered as the cyan glimmer reached for her feet ready to snatch her away but a hand on her cloak pulled her back into the shadows.

"Confusio."

Luna saw her hands turn a stony grey and bloody woven design. They had blended into the hallway. It was the most marvelous sight! Or no sight at all, a dash of magic on them both, spinning around like a web! Spinning with her arms outstretched, she was this magic.

Luna repeated the spell once more in her head. Usually it helped her to speak it out loud or tap it out with her wand. She found she couldn't speak with the small hand covering her mouth.

Two alert prefects marched around the corner in equal stride, one with red-hair a remarkable shade not too terribly off from Ginny's. The other was the one person Luna sought to avoid: Penelope Clearwater.

"As I was saying, believing in this rubbish is fatal to morale. I know Harry Potter myself. He spent the summer with my family. He's very quiet and of course, polite, but still even after we tried to make him feel at home, he was the standoffish sort. A tad bit arrogant if you ask me, though my mother adores him…what I am getting at is we should calm down and not jump to conclusions. It might be a cry for attention. My younger brothers are the same way, and I can spot a prank a Quidditch field away. I thought better of you, Penelope, than how you're acting. Honestly."

Penelope was a dull red, her strides harsh and blunt. The discordant sounds made Luna wrinkle her nose.

"Well, it's not as much of a problem for someone like you as it is for someone like me, Percy. Did you not hear what that Malfoy brat was yelling? You can be so inconsiderate and boorish sometimes. I don't know why I put up with you," she said, as tightly as a string about to break.

"I can think of a few reasons," Percy crowed and draped his arm over the startled Muggleborn. In fact, Luna thought he looked exactly like a rooster with his hair sticking straight up and his steps that made him hop and bob. But such a display should always wait until morning. The night was too soft for roosters and their feathers would be thick blots everywhere. Apparently Penelope had a similar impression.

"You really assume that will…You are a sexist pig, Percy Weasley."

She huffed off with the rooster flapping after her.

"Quibbling, puerile half-wits," Ginny hissed behind her, in disgust. Luna's eyes widened considerably, if that was possible.

"Say that again," she pleaded, enthralled.

She was shoved away and Luna frowned. Never mind. She could say it herself and even better.

"Quibbling," she muttered, pronouncing it long then slow then sharp.

"Bling, QuiBbling…" she sang to herself. Yes, she felt it in her very being. It rang a chord down her spine. She danced it out on the floor, tapping her feet to the syllables.

Ginny Weasley looked faintly ill, glaring daggers at her and mouth starting to contort like a half moon. The knuckles that held the wand grew white as Cyprus Creepers.

Luna felt saddened at the reaction at her hued interpretation. It really was a nicely woven word

"Well, it left your lips," she whispered. "It can land on mine, you know. It might like mine better. I can't help that."

"You…Cr-!"

A war seemed to be raging in those brown eyes that looked more like a seal or a door, with something waiting to come out. Then quite suddenly the storm was over. Ginny seemed to relax, her shoulders un-tensing. In fact, her skin was almost translucent, brown freckles as dark as ink. Her breaths came fast as if she had been dancing herself for a much longer while.

"Too long…" she muttered. Luna tilted her head in question.

"Since I've had a decent sleep. My brothers have been locking me out of my common room, giving me a right time of it. You seem to be in the same predicament."

"But-I have no brothers. Nor sisters," Luna protested.

Ginny held up her hands, well one hand wearily. The other that still gripped her wand trembled violently, twitching as if wanting to break free off the arm it was bound to. Perhaps she had been practicing swish and flick. Luna's hands had been the same way after she finished her thirtieth attempt.

"I-that's not the-that's not the point. I will get you…in-your common room if you kindly tell me-where it is l-located."

The beats were switching back and forth now, like a vibrating Fizzing Whizbee. Luna decided that Ginny Weasley must be very, very tired. She put a hand out to pat her head, that's what her father used to do when she was ill. Ginny looked scandalized, jerking away as if burned. Well, each to his own.

Like Penelope said. Oh.

"I can't tell you where it is. That would be breaking the secret and my house mates' trust. My father said trust is only as good as what you put in it. It's like it has very fragile wings. You must be careful with it."

"What does your fa-father do, pray tell?"

"Oh, he's a journalist! He writes the truth. About the Ministry, about Crumpled-Horned Snorkack which is very elusive, so many wizards don't even believe them to exist but-."

"I think I have a ge-general idea. But your house mates…they've already, how did you so prodigiously put it…yes, b-broken a wing or two. Besides, I have no interest in breaking the illustrious mystery of the Ravenclaw common room."

Luna paused in thought. Ginny was right. They had not wanted to let her in. So should she want to be let back in? She honestly didn't care. Already, she had planned to slip in just for her books and necessary items. But Ginny seemed to want to help her reenter her house.

"All right," Luna said slowly. "I suppose it will do no harm."

She began leading the Gryffindor to the suit of armor, with her books in tow.

"They won't find out. How could they? I don't plan on telling them. Oh, I-I have a favor to ask."

"How can I help you?" Luna replied, sincerely. "Questions are meant to be asked, you know."

"Ah, good," Ginny said a little too brightly, though Luna thought her mood must be improving. "My brother, that red-haired…Prefect, would not like that my other brothers have been te-teasing me. But I don't want him h-hovering over me. You can understand why, I trust. So can we keep this whole inci-dent between us? A-as friends."

Luna smiled kindly. She knew something was amiss. She saw it as clear as day in the poorly lit hallows of Hogwarts. But she didn't know what exactly. Her father said a good journalist gathers his evidence first. The words 'As friends' fell down into the place where she stored her hope though. Luna decided to wait, carefully observing, while not losing a potential friend her own age that notably has a love of words as well. It occurred to her that the two Ginnys were merely a figment of her imagination. She'd heard of everyone having a twin in the world but it would be so confusing having two there, when Ginny had mentioned she was the only girl. Surely world twins (unlike birth twins) would be on the opposite side of globe, as a balance.

Ginny truly must have been nervous. Or…

She would wait.

Luna stopped in front of the armor which snapped at the two grumpily.

"How typical," Ginny muttered. "Do they never…"

Luna raised her eyebrows.

"Never…oil him? I've asked since he seems so creaky, but I never really got an answer," she finished, darkly.

Ginny raised her wand.

"Oh, how do you do magic in the corridors?" Luna gasped, curious. "That would be the most wondrous of things to know."

Ginny laughed again, amused.

"You know what, refresh my memory. You are Luna Lovegood, are you not? I have been out of sorts lately, so forgive me if I am mistaken."

"You are not. Mistaken, I mean. We met on the train, in the unused compartment next to the fortieth window, on the left, just by the door that was off its hinges and the seat with the rusted springs coming through..."

"Yes, yes, I remember now. Just checking, you see. This has been such an experience I fear my memory might become cluttered."

"I know! I've felt the very same way! You just have too many ideas and not enough time!" Luna exclaimed, waving her arms about in expression. Someone might get it, why she was always in such a rush, and the prospect excited her.

"Time has always been my greatest enemy."

Luna noticed the rhythm had settled back into her friend's voice. Beat, pause, beat, pause…the eyes remained locked. There seemed to be a riddle in her words, an unanswered, posed question. And Luna was drawn in against her will.

"Enemy…is a strong word for a force. I rather think of it as a great door. If you don't know the password, you might be stranded for an equally great while, in a maze where you see only what you haven't done."

Ginny's eyes widened a bit and something flickered. It might have been a winged key, for it fluttered away before she could snatch it.

"You are…not like them, are you? You are different. They won't understand, so they bar the way against you. How does that feel to you?"

Honestly, she had not given it much thought, which vaguely disappointed her. She would have to think more of it. She stared at the suit in consternation, humming lightly while considering the question.

"I suppose…I don't feel anything…about that. I don't believe it is worth feeling about. While they might not understand me, I don't understand them. That makes two wrongs, and there could be a third something, as things always come in threes, but that has not come, neither a wrong or a right... So I don't blame them, if that's what you are asking."

Ginny looked vaguely put off by her answer, eyes darkening to liquid shadows.

"Sometimes you can make them understand, you know…Luna. Even with your ingenious answer, I do wonder…"

Ginny cut herself off forcefully and gave an arched smile, reminding Luna a bit of the eclipse once more. How much would she see before the whole face was covered again?

"But I have left your question unanswered, haven't I? My wand…is a hand-me down and I'm not quite well matched with it. So my wand work is not powerful enough to be noticed by the sensitive detectors in the school. Even though it is effective, it is crude, artless if you will. My parents are saving up for a new one."

Luna nodded, well-aware of the necessity of wand compatibility. Hers was mostly at odds with itself. Mr. Ollivander commented on her wand being made from the wood of the apple tree and a core of dragon heartstring.

"Magic itself though…the very idea of the magic itself is more potent and enough for the bare minimum, if you can channel the energy through other mediums," Luna muttered.

"Precisely," Ginny said, seeming surprised. "Now let me show you the proper way to get around physical barriers. First I shall do it wrong. Then you tell me why, if you can. Abscido absconditum!"

The spell left the knight unaffected and it merely clanking in a mocking, empty laugh of triumph. There was a pause and Luna realized Ginny was waiting for her, eyebrows raised expectantly. Luna dove into the problem post haste.

The spell kind of bounced off in a fashion, and she pictured a form of Doxy fairy biting an unresponsive Hippogriff for some reason. Bouncing off in fact, because the tail would knock it away…so if it came from a different angle, it would succeed. Like the moon hitting the water becomes slightly larger and goes deeper, almost sinking in some parts of the world, unlike the Great Bear constellation which never sinks, because of the myth and then again, because it is not in the proper angle, right above, was it? With her mind full of bouncing Bluggers and ricocheting Billywigs, she answered.

"The angle. If you hit it at a different angle, with rotation to the wand, the magic will flow with the intensity, and the natural motions will cause the magic to penetrate deeper into the barrier thus making it separate from the main charm."

Ginny simply repeated the spell once more with her wand angle more pronounced and the suit sprung aside, quoting Bellwings Apparation-Displacement Theory. Ah, so that's what it was!

"Thank you," Luna said, sincerely. She hadn't been looking forward to spending the night in a stiff chair, even if it was around books and in her special nook by the window.

But she felt no victory, as it was not her knowledge that had opened the knight. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, she hurried inside and turned to say her goodnight.

That Ginny Weasley seemed to be an idea was her sudden impression. An instrument that played a tune she had yet to pick up.

Yes, that is what she seemed to be, except for the hair and the eyes which had a mind of their own. Luna's eyes were the same at times though the rest of her seemed to support her eyes. At least she thought so. Luna wasn't afraid because she liked ideas, very much so. Yet it was out-of-place…Can a person think so much as to become an idea? Luna didn't think so.

"You know…are you okay?" Luna asked quickly, not wanting to offend. Her father had not looked alright yet he insisted he was, almost defensively. This question was the one Luna always circumvented besides from now.

"Never better," Ginny responded, inwardly laughing though Luna could hear it. "I'm just glad you are safe in the Tower of Babble once more. Now I can go back to my own humble common room, since you've helped me so much with that spell. I just couldn't quite crack it."

Luna was tempted to ask more about this Tower but felt distinctly off-kilter in terms of conversation. So she smiled instead and turned to go.

"About that maze…lovely description. But I think you forgot to mention the monster inside the labyrinth, since as every good story goes, there always is one."

Luna bit her lip, rethinking her words.

"Yes! But I don't think, in time, that there is much room for a big one in external, real space. It should come from the opposite way, which could only be inside."

By the time she looked up to see if the girl understood, the small Gryffindor had left. Luna shut the door calmly, wondering at what was causing her heart to be so. It was as if she had been fleeing the whole time instead of having a conversation. She fiddled with her necklace nervously, sitting by the dimmed fire.

It was pointless to venture upstairs to go to sleep. The shivers running down her spine were not going to allow for Morpheus to come tonight or today as it was.

She pulled a piece of parchment from her bag and began to compose a letter.

Daddy,

I think I have stumbled across the briniest, springiest of words for your paper…


Eliza could not figure out how Luna had gotten past the knight.

Every morning would find Lovegood curled up in front of the fire, when she would miss the new password by wandering off before breakfast.

Eliza thought this was an indication of something foul and suspicious. She watched Loony obsessively, waiting for the finally chips to fall.

The other Ravenclaws had fallen under the correct assumption that Lovegood was a bit off.

They did not speak to her, allowing her to sit at the end of their table without one ounce of attention. How could they give her attention when even the smallest bit was repaid by flights of fancy?

The most fitting punishment for an exhibitionist…yet Lovegood didn't seem to mind, reading, drumming her fingers upon the table, or merely staring off at a fascinating, invisible pink troll that they could not see.

Often Luna would spend the time transfiguring beetles to radishes, or turnips, and the like in the common room. There was the time she took placing socks on the knobs, to make them warmer for when people went to open the doors. Eliza was an unfortunate victim, along with Cho Chang, of incidentally placing her hand on the covered knobs while distracted…in other words, putting their hands on Loony's socks.

Luna worked tirelessly on using spells to manipulate glass and putting the pieces up to her eyes to see, as she put it, with another angle. Her unnaturally large eyes would peer through the circles, magnified to the size of a giant insect. Yes, for the whole week, all she babbled about was angles and eclipses (or was it ellipses?). She claimed to actually see through the walls and the magical currents and Nettlett's running about (which were very small). Eliza wondered how long they were expected to put up with this nonsense.

When was Clearwater going to take action?

"Can't you do something about her?" Edgecombe demanded of a haggard Penelope, after she had cornered her near the working desk.

The whole of first years through seventh years had retreated from the girl who had become to sing so loudly it hurt their ears. Eliza had told her to shut it, only for the singing to be replaced by tapping.

Penelope huffed up, closing her book and muttering about exams. They watched with baited breaths.

"Luna," Penelope began gently. "Dear, some of us are trying to study. It might be best if you took yourself outside. The weather is very nice today."

"Oh." Luna gazed at the rest of her house mates in surprise, as if just realizing they were in the room with her. Eliza was satisfied to see a look of unease pass upon her face. "The weather is very nice…today. Like it was yesterday. I shall go and make sure it didn't change."

Luna gathered her books and left.

"She is such a freak," Chambers declared to Chang. As if anyone doubted that. Chang pretended not to hear the remark, looking uncomfortable.

Eliza felt the swells of victory ahead. So when the weekend started and no sign of Lovegood at the table during dining hours, in the common room, or best of all, in the dorm...

Eliza saw that, to her immense pleasure, the Hufflepuffs were quite effective allies, though the Slytherins were more caustic and damaging. The Slytherins had perfected the art of mental isolation and torment and that was the method employed by the first years. But, strangely enough, the Hufflepuffs were better.

"Excuse me, do you not hear the words that are coming out of my mouth? Do you understand? Think…" Elizabeth Libbet hissed at Luna during Charms when Flitwick had assigned the poor soul to help Lovegood get Swish and Flick right. After half the class being wasted on trying to be helpful, Libbet seemed to have entered upon the annoying existence of Nettlets and Posnickels.

Luna continued overdoing the motion, blushing slightly and looking ridiculously confused, and Eliza was in heaven.

There, there, clear evidence, she reasoned. Clear evidence of Lovegood's mental capacity.

Luna seemed near tears at the end of that lesson for as a Ravenclaw, intelligence was the most valued.

The one thing that would affect Lovegood…Eliza stored it away for further use.

On her way out of the classroom, she made sure to whisper about Flitwick looking so disappointed for some reason. Luna kept her eyes down and repeatedly organized her notes (more drawings of her imaginary creatures) until Flitwick told her see him after class.

The Gryffindors were too concerned with themselves, as were the Slytherins to take notice of the oddball, except laugh and sneer. Eliza wondered how the girl knew the Quidditch match was even scheduled, for no one from any house would have told her.

Yet on the day of the Gryffindor and Slytherin match, Eliza saw those enormous turnip earrings and groaned.


Her first real Quidditch match had been one full of broken wings.

It seemed none of the seats wanted to be sat on. They would recoil back when she would near them. They must be very shy now, after being sat on, occasionally in bad weather, for so long. She might be wearing too bright of colors, though looking down all she had was bronze and blue.

Or her house mates were…

Luna sat herself on the top of the stairs that gave a much better view when the players appeared in between the sea of heads like darting paper moths or overly large birds of the tropical sort. She watched for a few moments, letting people walk around her on her perch. She learned to discern between them by three ways: whether they wore tennis shoes or boots, whether unlaced or triple-knotted, and whether they stepped on her mother's old cloak or not.

She considered the way the whole pitch seemed like a wild banshee gone mad, with waves of shouts and curses floating above her. She timed how long the shouts from the opposite side of the pitch reached her. She was a boat lost at sea, only the flying type and did hope the birds got out of the way she would hate to hit them as Occamies were very rare nowadays.

Maybe she was dreaming being here. She had done that before, went through the whole day only to wake up and realize she hadn't embarked on her day quite yet.

She wished it would rain. The Rolling-Land Hippocampus would come out from hiding as it doesn't like water. If it came out, they would believe her.

The whole pitch swelled and she wondered if the tip was overflowing, and then she saw the boy with broken wings fall to the ground. The place was swarming and she couldn't get within range to get a proper view.

She felt the impact though, of what had happened and it made her dizzy. Once broken, wings tend not to heal the same way ever again.

It was quiet where she stood, as her house mates pushed against one another in confusion, amusement, concern, or just because.

How strange. After all, it was a time for silence.


Luna had a deep fear.

How could one look for something when one doesn't quite know what one is seeking?

What if you didn't know to seek? For if you know what you are looking for, then you have already found it, haven't you?

It bothered her. So terribly she didn't bother to use the spell Ginny had taught her. Luna preferred to sit by the window for now, as fall turned to winter, and she didn't want to miss anything.

The Prefects never searched the library. They knew the inherent truth about monsters as well. It was instinctive…monsters lurked in shadows and empty places. Luna felt loads better in the Hogwarts Library. She loved eyes, just not so narrowed and distant. The library was the best place, with the Forbidden Forest coming in for a close second.

In the Forest, you could see the night become day, then in the library, the day become night. Luna wondered which had been first. Like lumos was magic unspoken from a former nox, and then the same…like a song un-played. It existed before the instrument, right? Luna preferred that to the latter. It made her the most happy and she hummed a few songs to make them real, in the quietness among the mounds of paper.

Someone chuckled.

Luna looked up, curious. It suddenly seemed cold, a distinct chill in the air. Her hair stood up on her arms as a result and she imagined her breath misting before her. Wrong…this feeling was wrong.

She stood up slowly, wand at ready. Yet there was a bigger presence here. Maybe just because it came from the air. She thought of chameleon creatures once more. Then her skin bleeding to grey…

"Ginny?" she whispered. "Is that you?"

Or her other half…

"Please don't let it be," Luna found herself reciting. Ginny had seemed to accept her, if not just a little bit. She rather it be a true blue monster than the red-head. Footsteps seemed to circle around her, pacing and waiting. Oscillating between an unspoken decision, question, answer…

Luna counted, memorized the rhythm. And she couldn't help it, mimicking it back with her feet. She wanted to remember it, store it away for later. She was angry that she could not, for the life of her, remember how Ginny Weasley walked. If she had, she would know for sure whether it was her or not.

The footsteps stopped, cut off suddenly, possibly confused by her own rhythm drowning its rhythm. Luna stopped as well and stood defiant. She told her eyes to look differently.

Look for the shape, not the color, the shape, find the shape…

She caught it by the bookshelf H-L, by Hogwarts: A History…a deviant of movement, of presence there. Something hissed behind her. Hissed!

Luna spun around, leaping away from the hidden foe. Chameleons don't hiss. Chamelions do! Then it could be a snake under her chair. Or Libbet had gotten confused on her way to dinner.

"Consigno memoriam," she whispered as the sound grew more menacing. Her breath caught. It was coming from everywhere, from the walls. Oh…something coming out of the walls…

Luna lost sight of the deviation. She knew something was coming, unwinding its way towards her. She could sense it in the nature of the sounds around her and then the abrupt halt.

Coming closer to devour her. Never had she been so aware of the colors, the fires, and the coldness...spreading over her limbs to the tips of her fingers.

Luna grabbed her bag, suddenly bombarded with the sense that the castle was alive and hostile. In the belly of a real, live monster.

She began to run.

Thanks to those who reviewed me! Just Silver, PickledishKiller, Loise, and Thievish One. Your kind words inspired me to continue.