I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER, or anything related, NOR DEATHNOTE, or anything related. Enjoy ;)

Tear glistening silver eyes peered up at the man, who raised his wand to his temple, "AVADA KEDAVRA." Xenophilius Lovegood's arm hung limp by his lifeless body.

"THE DAILY PROPHET

"Three weeks after the death of his wife, Larissa Lovegood, Xenophilius Lovegood committed suicide this Saturday afternoon. The cause of death, being the third unforgivable curse, shall remain undefined.

"Xenophilius was the author of the magical tabloid rag, The Quibbler, and had worked as an intern for The Daily Prophet in his younger years.

"Lovegood left behind his now orphaned daughter, Luna Lovegood, aged 9. According to his will, which has been deciphered, as it was written in "Nargle", some sort of Elfish Language, his daughter is to attend a Muggle orphanage for the gifted.

"The name of the orphanage has been withheld due to privacy reasons.

Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet."

Every little nose in Whammy's was pressed up against the front windows. Only the clicking of a red head's GameBoy could be heard. The red head, and a sulking blonde stayed off in a corner, not seeing the excitement, next to them, an albino silently transformed Megatron into a truck. The younger children, excited about the new arrival, held their breath until their chubby faces turned a slight shade of blue. Then, the eerie silence erupted into a loud clash of violent whispers. Mello, the leather clad thirteen year old blonde, turned up his nose, and sauntered up the stairs, sneaking a peak out the mid-story window at the new addition. She was a girl, with white-blonde hair over a metre long, cascading down on her snowy skin, with a surprised look in her swollen silvery orbs. She had been crying. This was a somewhat normal appearance for the new comers at Whammy's, the tear stained cheeks and a pink nose. But she was different, she was skipping.

Once L guided the new child inside, the little children lost interest in her, and found L as their new subject of interest. Rodger brought the young girl into his office, and Mello caught a better glimpse at her. She wore mismatched leggings, one a red and green stripes, the left a purple and pink polka dot. Her alabaster face still bore a dreamy, surprised look, and he began to wonder if it was permanent. Her wavy pale locks extended past the edge of her pink skirt, which barely peaked out from her large grey sweater. And a set of radishes dangled from her ears. Mello blinked twice.

Mello, and his red-haired, goggle wearing friend, Matt, sat outside Rodger's office, eavesdropping on the dreamy, distant Irish accent and their care-taker's rough voice's conversation. Miss Lovegood… have…choose a name…why…like my name… Luna… I choose Luna…You cant…nickname…no one…know you… Luna…why not…because.. The rambling conversation lasted quite a bit of time, the chocolate lover smirked to himself, Luna.