Headlines.

Luna wrinkled her nose, peering over her father's shoulder at the newspaper he was clutching. A very familiar face was peering back at her from the black and white photograph covering most of the main page, although it was wearing a digitally enhanced scowl. His hair was tidier than usual in the picture, too, parted to show the jagged lightning bolt scar.

"'The Boy Who Lies'," she read aloud, shaking her head. "You don't believe that, do you, Daddy?"

Xenophilus shook his head furiously. "Of course not, Luna. If Dumbledore believes him, that's good enough for me. Besides, this is the Daily Prophet. I wouldn't trust them as far as I could throw them, my dear."

"What are the headlines in this issue of The Quibbler, Daddy?" asked Luna, seemingly nonchalant. Her father wasn't fooled for a second.

"Well, I was going to run a wonderful article on Gernumbli magic..." Xenophilius began.

Then he looked up at his daughter's earnest, wide-eyed face.

"I suppose I could print something about your friend Harry."

"Thank you!" Luna exclaimed, beaming, "Although he isn't really my friend, Daddy. We've never even spoken."

Not yet, anyway. It was always just a matter of time.

"To be great is to be misunderstood." - Oscar Wilde

“She’s barking!” Ron hissed. Harry tried to ignore him, which was easy giving the blinding obviousness of his statement.

The ‘she’ in question was Luna Lovegood, DA member and Hogwarts School’s resident eccentric. It hadn’t been her intention, but her arrival in the library had caused everyone to look up from their Potions essays and Transfiguration homework.

Luna often had that sort of effect on people.

The Hippogriff feathers currently platted into her long blonde hair probably didn’t help.

“Hello, Harry,” she said, giving him a bright smile as she’d wandered dreamily past on her way to the Divination books, “Hello Hermione. Hello Ronald.”

Harry nodded, and returned the smile. It was so bright, so utterly innocent, that ignoring her would have been like kicking a kitten. Even Hermione managed a weak ‘hi’.

Ron continued to stare at her, aghast.

Luna didn’t seem to notice, and drifted past, her robes billowing around her. Strange how her robes seemed to billow. They were the same school robes as the rest of Hogwarts wore, but they looked different on Luna. Ethereal, as if she was an all-too-solid ghost hovering through the castle.

No ghost would wear radishes as fashion accessories.

“She’s barking,” Ron repeated, allowing his voice to rise a little now Luna was out of sight behind the bookcases.

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, glaring at him, “She’ll hear you.”

“So?” Ron shrugged, looking a little sheepish, as he so often did when Hermione berated him (despite his best efforts to remain unmoved). “I don’t mean it in a bad way. She’s our friend. But, I mean, come on, Hermione, she must know she’s utterly insane.”

The ghost had drifted around the bookshelves while he was talking/ Ron, pink cheeked, opened his mouth to apologise, but it was rather redundant. Luna looked delighted. He’d called her a friend. He could have added several spiteful and intelligent adjectives after that, and she wouldn’t have cared. A real friend.

“To be great is to be misunderstood,” she said, pleasantly, before slipping past them and out of the library, a battered book clutched to her chest. They could hear her footsteps on the cobbles as she skipped along, but then she rounded the corner and disappeared out of earshot.

“I suppose it makes a chance from ‘wit beyond measure...'” ventured Harry, helpfully.