InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Didn't call, didn't write."

The product of the day’s work had thoroughly pleased her; after classes, Luna chose to occupy the remainder of the afternoon basking in the comfort of the great lake in front of Hogwarts. Skilled hands had been swiftly moving across the canvas she laid on her lap, the light touch of the charcoal outlining the highlights of the scene.

Perhaps Luna’s scene was a unique one; an onlooker would notice that indeed she as drawing a portrait of the landscape before her, but the feeling was different. Her paintings possessed strange clarity, with a touch of outpour. Mirroring her speech, her sketches were always concise, with no elaborateness, but unlike her speech they were characterized with such an apparent hurry and rush. The static charcoal lines, rarely charmed to move (Luna enjoyed capturing the moment rather than moments) were movement, placed by a seemingly agitated artist, trying to pour all of her feelings out at once.

But in truth the casual observer would note that, contradictory to her art but unsurprising of her personality, Luna sketched with a peaceful freedom of mind and spirit, often conversing with her art while she leisurely placed her strokes in their position. Her eraser came of rare use; any mistake that was made stayed in the art, or, if drastic enough, the entire portrait would be discarded in favour of starting a new one. There was something about the eraser that would frequently interrupt Luna’s delicate balance of mind and art, and so she was content to ignore it.

Today had been a particularly auspicious day, though, and Luna suspected that it was likely caused to the number of orange jewelry she adorned herself with. It was a recent discovery that orange repelled the Thursday mites, creatures that would cause downfalls of many great men and women. Her hair was mostly left loose and wild, with a loop of orange ribbon slipped around a bundle of strands – the wind had removed most of the hair from its confinement. Orange bangles decorated her wrists, several chains of orange charms that her father had given her as one of his parting gifts hung around her neck, and her signature turnip earrings were swapped for a charmed pair that had fresh orange slices on them. She was thus protected from any mischief or wrongdoing.

And Luna would definitely attest to her shields of orange working – within an hour of mused sketching, Luna produced a portrait to her satisfaction. Eagerly, she gathered her materials to retire to the Ravenclaw common room, where she could muse upon her next action, as well as begin working on the assignments that would be due the next day. Leaving only a warm spot of dented grass behind, Luna strode back to the school, with her casual but brisk pace.