Happy Birthday, Tessa! Sorry I'm late :c
She was by the lake, as she always did at that time. The moonlight shone down on her, making her seem almost vulnerable. Her dirty blonde hair was splayed in all direction as she lay back on the grass, her eyelids shut and a content smile gracing her features. A forgotten Quibbler and garlic necklace were metres away from her, thrown and left in a careless fashion.
Neville approached her with caution. Luna, though a kind girl, frightened him a bit. Even in his head that sounded ridiculous. She was just a girl. He was Gryffindor – brave, remember? Even with her crazy ideas she was still just a girl. And it's not meant to take that much courage to approach a girl.
It was the crunching of twigs and heavy breathing that caused her eyes to snap open. She lifted her head with a quiet sigh, sitting and swivelling her body to greet the intruder. Luna expected him to ask questions. After all, that was the only reason anyone talked to her. They wanted to question her sanity. They asked about her past – her mother. Sometimes they laughed. He, Neville Longbottom, didn't even say he word. He merely sat beside her, his eyes peeled above the water and into the distance.
"Do you like it here?" she asked. "By the lake, I mean."
Neville looked sideways at her. "I guess so. It's… I guess."
"I think it's lovely."
Almost as if to prove her point, she stared into the distance, her fingers tapping against the soft ground. Her bitten nails grazed over the blades of grass, and she closed her eyes, her head falling back slightly. Breaking the silence, she added as an afterthought, "I'm not complaining. I do like the company. I don't get much, after all."
"Why don't you get much company?"
It was a cruel question to ask, even though he hadn't meant it that way. He was curious. He didn't agree with what people said about her. She wasn't half bad. Of course, some habits were rather odd. Still, she was a nice girl. He wondered if she knew what people said about her. Did she know of the horrid nic-names people came up with? Had she heard the rumours that had been whispered through the grapevine?
"I suppose people find me rather odd," Luna replied, not seeming to take offense. She slowly turned to face him, her wide eyes blinking as he stared back. "If you don't like the lake, why are you here? It's not normal to go somewhere you don't like."
She'd taken him by surprise when she'd used the word 'normal.' Since when did Luna Lovegood care for (or even acknowledge) normality? She was right though. He hated the lake, he always had. It had always seemed so dark to him - and endless pit of despair. He'd never understood why Luna had taken such a liking to the place.
"I know you come here often," she continued, turning her face away from him. "You don't usually sit beside me - or come near me at all, really."
"I... I don't come here that often."
"Every week. Usually on Tuesdays," Luna stopped as a sudden thought occurred to her. "Do you think I'm strange? Is that why you wouldn't sit with me? It's okay if it is."
"N-n-no! The lake..." he trailed off. "It freaks me a bit, to be honest."
"Why do you come, Neville? Why do you come to the lake?"
Swallowing, Neville looked at her. Her eyes were fixed on an unidentifiable point in the middle of the lake, and her lips were slightly pursed as she awaited his answer. Her clothing, as always, reflected her personality, and a pair of large glasses perched on the top of her head.
"I guess... I guess I like the company, too."