The two girls climbed to their seats in the Gryffindor section off of the Quidditch pitch. As they sought out Neville and the others, a thought struck Hermione.
"Luna," she asked, "why do you always sit in our section? Not that we aren't happy to have you," she hastily added, "but don't you ever want to sit with your own house?"
Luna smiled. "No, I get along better with you anyway, Hermione."
Hermione tried to interpret this nugget of information. "But you must have some friends in Ravenclaw?" she ventured.
Luna shrugged. "I suppose. But no one like you or Harry, or Ginny. Most of them think I'm a bit daft, you see."
Hermione tried not to snicker. I wonder why, she thought. "I understand, Luna," she said honestly. "Most of the Gryffindors think I'm a bit too bookish."
"You'd have been a good Ravenclaw," Luna observed as she pressed past a third-year, seemingly unaware that she'd nearly trod on his feet. "I wonder why you weren't placed there."
"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "But according to Hogwarts: A History, the Hat has never been known to make a mistake."
"It considered putting me in Gryffindor, you know," Luna said vaguely. "But it decided on Ravenclaw."
"Really?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening as she turned to face the other girl, nearly hitting a seventh-year with her elbow as she did. "It almost put me in Ravenclaw. I thought I was the only one to have that happen."
"Oh, no, Hermione," Luna assured her. "I'm sure it's happened to many other people."
Hermione considered it. Perhaps, she thought. But probably no one else we know.