She lives in daydreams, speaking of things that only exist in the minds of the different. (Daft, Percy thinks, but he keeps this to himself.) Luna keeps her head in the clouds, only coming down when absolutely necessary.
The two of them shouldn't be. Differences lace their relationship, but it's those little opposites that weave them together, strengthening them.
At Fred's funeral, she'd taken Percy's hand and whispered something in his ear about the life cycle of a curious, imaginary creature. Their first meeting, the first time Percy truly smiled and felt that it wasn't hopeless, that life could somehow continue after tragedy.
Everyone looks at them with confused eyes. The serious man with his little oddlet by his side.
"Stranger things have happened," Percy tells them, though he can't give an example.
Luna can. As easy as anything, she can list a million daft and impossible things. And that's exactly why Percy first fell in love with her.