When she and Neville had started going out, she knew that it wouldn't last forever. They had just won the war, and they both needed someone familiar, someone who understood, to move on from what they had lived through during it. Both of them had fought battles that no one their age should have had to fight, both of them had been tortured, and both of them had been outsiders back in the day when life had been simpler. In many ways they were similar.
And there was the fact that she really, really liked Neville, which was so much more important than any of the logical reasons she could think up. She loved how he always talked about plants, and listened to her when she went on about all kinds of creatures and beasts. Most of the time he was genuinely interested in them, and even helped her prove that one of the creatures no one else had believed in was real.
But she had known it wouldn't last forever, and she kept repeating that thought in her head, because being dumped, even if you knew it was coming, still hurt. After three years, four months, and 20 days Neville had ended their relationship, but who was counting? Most of their wounds had healed by now, and she was beginning to feel restless, while Neville wanted nothing more than down-to-earth lifestyle and to start a family. This was for the best.
"Luna? Are you… You are alright, right?" She focused on the man sitting across from her in the Three Broomsticks.
"Wrackspurts. My brain went a little fuzzy," she replied, her tone lofty as always, "Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry, Neville." She patted his hand, and smiled at him. Neville seemed to let out a long breath, and his usual lopsided grin showed up on his face.
"Good… Good!" They sipped from their Butterbeers and sat in silence for a while, Luna looking around the pub. It was almost empty, which wasn't surprising. Neville had come down from the castle in order to meet with her, but he probably had to head back in a couple of hours. Nevertheless the silence between them stretched, something that happened all too often, though neither of them found it uncomfortable. She couldn't have had that with any of her other friends, they always needed the noise. She figured it was because the Weasleys were a loud bunch, and Harry and Hermione had adapted, but she had never asked. She would have to do that the next time she saw Ginny. After a few more minutes, Neville cleared his throat to get her attention back.
"We can still be friends?" Luna almost choked on her Butterbeer, because her laughter bubbled up uncontrollably. Neville blushed, not completely sure what to make of that. He couldn't imagine not being friends with the odd girl anymore.
"Of course!" Luna finally got out once she had calmed down a little. "After everything that has happened I wouldn't like not having friends." Deep down she had been the tiniest bit worried about this as well. Deep down a part of her was still that girl that had painted her ceiling one summer. Deep down she sometimes still was just that lonely. However most days that simply meant that she appreciated her friends all the more. Smiling to herself, she finished her Butterbeer, and checked her watch.
"Neville, would you mind if I got going?" The man shook his head, and she nodded while getting up.
"Bye, Luna," he muttered when she leaned over and kissed his cheek.
"Bye." She got her small bag, and with a last wave left the pub.
One of the few warm and sunny days Scotland had to offer greeted her outside, and she took a deep breath. If she started planning now, she could be right on time for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack's mating season in Sweden. Already going over the things she would need, she didn't pay much attention when she turned the corner, and bumped into someone.
"Huh, oh dear, I'm sorry," the person said at the same time as she started apologising.
"No, no, really, I should have paid more attention," the stranger held his hand out, helping her up. His hair had almost the same colour as hers, she realised, but unlike her more or less straight her, it was a mop of curls.
"It must have been a Pittlehopper. They like to push people, so they bump into each other, you know?" she quickly tried to explain how it happened that they had bumped into each other. Much to her surprise the man didn't react like, well, most people and looked at her funny, but only seemed interested.
"Is that so? How curious. I'm Rolf, Rolf Scamander, and you are?"