Work Text:
Hermione was walking outside looking for the boys, but instead she found Luna by the flowerbeds near the lake. Luna was being her usual loony self. She was ripping all of the flowers out of the flowerbed and leaving the weeds behind. Stunted or overgrown weeds that had piteously small petals or no petals at all.
"What are you doing Luna?"
"Don't you think it sad that people only ever look at the flowers and ignores the weeds? Even worse, most people pick the weeds out. I am giving the weeds the attention they need. Weeds are just flowers grown the wrong way. Why rip them away when they only want love? It is so sad how people believe they are ugly, horrible, useless things. I think they are more interesting to look at. Poor weeds, they are just a little different. Don't work I know how to replant the flowers so I'm not harming them all too much." Luna had that dreamy look on her face. She felt a connection to those weeds.
Luna just wanted love or at least not to be thought of as someone odd. It hurt that people forgot she had feelings, that she was human. She knew what they said about her, and she wished they would stop, but she can't change who she is. Just like weeds can't change what they are.
Hermione looked at the tenderness she gave the weeds and, as the brightest witch of her age, she was able to make the connection between Luna and the weeds. She saw that Luna wanted to be cared for and about. She was the weeds among the flowers. She choked the flowers with all the love she gives, her odd ways, and does not get any other that love back. People just avoid her or hurt her. It was that day that Luna and Hermione became good friends. It was after that day, they would meet near the flowerbeds and talk every week.