The plant had been tossed unceremoniously out of a window.
She'd been walking, minding her own, when quite suddenly she heard a bang and a crash and a thump and really, could you have stayed away if you'd heard three of those, one right after the other?
So she'd trotted over to the little broken figure, lying in a heap in the road, and picked it up.
It was the loveliest shade of green, she noticed, and so she cradled it like you would a sick child and hurried home.
The plant, which she christened Darwin, had a spot of honor in the middle of her kitchen table. She had transferred it to her favorite coffee cup because, she figured, after being thrown out of a window, little Darwin deserved to feel a bit loved.
So Darwin stayed there, and he thrived, and he grew purple flowers because he obviously knew they were her favorite, and Luna figured she'd never ever find a better plant than Darwin.
The years passed, and he grew bigger, and so she had to pull him out of her favorite coffee cup and instead gave him a new shiny silver bucket that she thought was very nice.
She watched as Darwin got bigger and bigger.
Darwin watched her too.
He watched as she grew up, grew older, grew wiser.
He watched her fall in love.
Darwin could tell you (or at least he would have, if he had had a mouth) that no one was worthy of his beautiful Luna. No one was smart enough, no one was kind enough, and no one was good enough.
Luna got very cross with him about it sometimes.
But, digressing, the majority of the men she dated (not that there were many) were nice, but really not much to call home about.
Then Darwin had met Neville Longbottom.
He had had a bit of dirt under his fingernails (always the sign of a good man, thought the plant) and he had been quick to notice Darwin.
"That sure is something." Neville had said to Luna. "You must take excellent care of him for him to be flowering at this time of year."
Darwin had decided, then and there, that this Neville Longbottom fellow was a keeper.
He'd watched, excitedly, as his two humans had fallen deeper and deeper in love, and hadn't minded at all when Neville moved in and started taking care of him. His hands were always very gentle, and he knew exactly how much water to give and when to give it.
When it came time for his Luna and his Neville to "marry", she'd worn one of his purple flowers in her hair.
Darwin had been rather proud.
And when, after a winter or two had past, and the two pollinated a beautiful little girl with Luna's hair and Neville's eyes, Darwin had been as happy as a plant could be (even if the little one liked to pull his petals sometimes).
It helped, of course, that Neville had brought in his own plants, and sat a rather pretty one down next to Darwin (her flowers were orange, and Darwin had fallen a little in love).
It wasn't a bad life for a little plant that had begun it tossed out of a window.
A/N – Did I really just write that? Blinks Okay then, I just wrote a story about Luna Lovegood's love life from the perspective of her plant. I didn't mean for the pov to shift like that, but I don't think it was too obvious. If you all could tell me what you think I'd really really appreciate it!
Thanks for reading!