Pansy didn't think she'd ever be happy after the war. She'd ruined her life in one panicked sentence. It didn't matter she'd been a child, or that she'd been terrified, or even that the blighter had gone and done what she suggested. She'd always be the Girl Who Gave Up Potter.

It wasn't a title to envy.

So she sat by herself in the tea shop, back stiff, eyes fixed firmly on the cup in her hand. She wouldn't let these people know she could feel their eyes and hear their whispers. She had her pride, at least. It was a thin meal, but she lived on it even if she had to dine alone.

"I like your shoes," a rather dreamy voice said, and she looked up to see Luna Lovegood, of all people, settle down across from her. "They gave me two scones because one was broken a bit and they were going to throw it out so I saved it and thought we could share. Scones make everything better, don't you agree?"

. . . . . . . . .

A/N - Thank you to theeldritchwitch for the prompt on Tumblr