When she had seen the boy again, four years and a world of heartbreak later, in the dining hall of her new school, she had run up to greet him. She hadn't really ever had friends before, and now being surrounded by so many new people was overwhelming her a bit.
But he had stood from the long table where he was seated and looked down his nose at her, a sarcastic smile tilting one side of his mouth.
"If it isn't little Luna Lovegood," he said loudly. She hadn't responded, just looked up at him, confused. He continued.
"One of the worst little blood traitors of them all," he said tauntingly, leaning in slightly, menacingly.
She had walked away, rejoined the group, fiddling with her long hair, and when she glanced over her shoulder, he was watching her.