Inscrutable

Hermione Granger's world was like a library, every book in its proper place, information sorted and categorized, then recategorized, borrowed, returned, lost, donated, and above all, logical. Her world was adaptable, able to bring facts like magic, prophetic chosen ones, and immortal evils into the fold, yet inflexible when it came to nearly every word that came out of Luna Lovegood's mouth.

Hermione didn't know what Luna's world was like. She didn't know how Luna could say the things she did, backed up by entirely no data, utterly nonsensical, and often with one sentence effortlessly contradicting the last. If she were honest, she'd say she didn't know how Luna got up in the morning when, to her perception, Luna Lovegood's world was a poorly maintained, ill-sorted, rubbish pile of books stationed right before a good burning.

She had assumed Luna's world was illogical, disorganized, so at odds with her own worldview, Hermione couldn't guess at the function. She never assumed, of course, that was the function.