"Luna?" He asked, walking over to where she was sprawled out on the lawn.
She looked up from the present blade of grass she was examining and acknowledged Neville by staring directly at him, unflinchingly. It was rather disconcerting, really, to be looked at in that way. Her eyes were so silver and she looked so deeply at you, almost as though she could see into your very mind by just staring at you.
"Yes, Neville?" she asked, her voice merry and kind as she sat up and promptly crossed her legs Indian-style. "Did you need something?"
"Er ... well ... I..." Neville stuttered. He wished she would stop looking at him like that.
"The grass is lovely, isn't it?" Luna asked suddenly, slowly moving her hand over a small patch of lawn, fingering the tips of the blades.
"Well, I -- what?"
"The grass," she said, nodding. "It's so green and fresh. So near perfect, but of course it isn't truly ideal. Nothing is."
"Er..." Neville faltered, not sure what to say. "Yeah, I suppose."
"Do you see this one right here?" Luna motioned, touching a bent and slightly brown blade. "This one is hardly faultless but in my opinion, it's the most stunning of them all."
"Really?" Neville asked, sitting down as well. Luna wasn't the most ... well, sane person in the world, but she was interesting. She was different and she didn't care what anyone thought about her. Neville envied her for that.
"Yes. No one in this world is perfect and this blade reflects that. It's content with how it is. It knows it doesn't need to change."
Neville nodded, as he also fingered the blade, being careful not to split it. His fingers clumsily touched Luna's small hand, the movement sending an odd, blissful jolt through his body. He quickly removed his hand from the shock, mumbling "sorry," under his breath.
Luna looked at him again, her shockingly silver eyes fixed onto his brown ones. "Do not be sorry, Neville," she whispered. "The wind is blowing faintly to the north, the darndettas have all come out of their cozy burrows to play in the woods, and all is all right with world. The world isn't perfect, it never is and it never will be, but everything's all right."
Neville continued to look at Luna, not even bothering to ask what on Earth a darndetta was but it didn't matter. All that really mattered was that he was here, listening to Luna and understanding what she had to say.
Luna continued on, observing each blade of grass, listing its faults but only liking that one blade more for them, and Neville listened intently, appreciating what Luna had to say.
Luna most certainly wasn't perfect, neither was he, but Neville only loved her more because of that.
AN2: Meh. That turned out as a big, fluffy, gagging mess, didn't it? Yes, this was barely even coherent let alone any good. Le sigh. Please review though, because I have a horrid addiction to those things.