Of Second Chances and Burgeoning Friendships

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Companion fic to A Slip of Conscience, but that doesn't have to be read to understand this. Set during HBP.

Luna liked to take the time to enjoy the world, to see everything her mother couldn't and never would again. So even after five years at Hogwarts—and even though her mum had been a Beauxbatons alumni, not a Hogwarts one—Luna took the time to admire the views from certain windows. She took the time to stop and greet ghosts and portraits that she knew and liked—and even some she didn't; who knew what she could learn from them, after all.

Her joie de vivre was often a source of annoyance to clusters of students who felt she was blocking the corridors they were walking down. She didn't understand why they couldn't just walk around her, it wasn't as if there wasn't enough space for them to do so. And it wasn't as if she purposely barred their way, either.

Occasionally, when lone students she knew—by face if not by name—passed her in corridors, they would glance at her before continuing on their way as if she didn't exist. She'd almost say it was as if she was a ghost only some ghosts received more positive attention than she did.

Despite that, there was one thing Luna never failed to do. Whether they were lone students ignoring her or groups of students pretending she didn't exist while being annoyed by her 'obtrusive' presence, she would make sure to call out a greeting to them.

She liked to think that if they turned and greeted her back it would be as if they were meeting for the first time, any and all previous encounters having little bearing on the current one. Luna liked to give them that chance, a chance to start again. Only they never took it. (Of course Luna didn't mean Harry or Neville. They always greeted her when passing—sometimes they even stopped to talk, too.)

Several times when pairs, or groups, of students passed her, they would talk about her—quite literally behind her back. Their derisive words—rarely whispers—would reach her ears easily as they passed by her in the corridors.

Whenever that happened, as always, she would call out a greeting to the students, calling them by name if she knew who they were. The immediate responses would vary: some would change the subject, talk louder and walk faster, as if to leave her and her words behind; some would pause and look around exaggeratedly as if trying to discern the source of their interruption before walking on; and some would turn and look at her, blushing and averting their eyes from hers. But one thing stayed the same—they never apologised.

And, like the lone students, they also never returned her greeting. They never took the chance to start over.

That was why, despite their comradeship—and to say little of her hopes—Luna expected nothing when Hermione Granger overtook her in a corridor, on a Sunday evening. The Gryffindor spared a glance for Luna, her cheeks reddening a little. For what reason, Luna didn't know.

Maybe she was remembering something someone said about Luna. Something funny. People seemed to find Luna very funny. None more so than Ginny Weasley and her dormmates (less Ginny and more her dormmates since school started up again). Luna recalled an incident in their fourth year when they had come across Luna talking with Alexander—a friendly portrait of a young man on the second floor.

She'd heard an earlier comment of theirs, said before they came level with her: "...only attention from the opposite sex Loony'll ever get..." Then their catcalls and kissing noises as she failed to acknowledge their presence, finishing her conversation with Alexander instead.

Then Luna had turned to the Gryffindors, and after saying hello in her usual dreamy manner, she had planned on telling them that had Alexander been alive she would've been glad to court him—only their abrupt, derisive laughter had swallowed her words.

She'd left them there, cackling like hyenas in their strange hysteria.

Ginny had been the only one not laughing, but she had stood there, arm in arm with two others, a strange smile on her face...

Ginny was a good friend of Hermione's—maybe she'd said something about Luna to her. It had to have been something funny to make Hermione blush like that. That saddened Luna a little, but it didn't stop her calling out to the older Gryffindor whose back was now to her.

"Hello, Hermione," Luna trilled, expecting nothing from the bushy-haired intellectual. So a pleasant thrill ran through her when the older girl paused, looked behind her and nodded at the Ravenclaw, "Luna."

Before Hermione could walk on, Luna moved closer and asked, "Are you feeling better?"

Some days before she'd come across Hermione crying in a bathroom. All Hermione could say between sobs was, "Ron." From that Luna had gleaned that he was the cause. Hardly surprising—he was quite rude.

Hermione smiled at her tightly, her blush deepening. "I...I am—thanks. If it's all the same to you, I'd—still—rather not talk about it." Hermione looked away then added, "Yet."

So that was why she'd blushed—embarrassment. Relief rushed over Luna like a wave as she nodded. She'd been wrong to think ill of Ginny, whatever her previous behaviour had been. And it now seemed Hermione meant to confide in Luna, like a friend would; that lifted the Ravenclaw's spirits considerably.

Hermione smiled at her gratefully and as she started to turn away, Luna said, "Have a nice day."

Hermione blinked, then a slow but genuine smile brightened her face. "You too, Luna."

Luna resolved to make Hermione smile again the next time she saw her.

She also resolved to never stop giving people chances. Even if they never took them, it made Luna happier to know that she had tried—and that one person had responded.

And such an unlikely person too, Luna thought before she skipped away to tell Alexander the good news. He'd be glad to hear it.

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