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Hermione wishes going back in time and telling her younger self to let go sooner would yield any result. She knows it wouldn't. She knows there is value in the path it has taken her to learn the how-to, and she knows most of it has to do with the woman who's so carefreely tending to her enchanted succulents.
Hermione remembers with fondness and exasperation how puzzled she'd been by the concept of Luna. She shakes her head thinking back on it, and smiles again, softly, when the woman glances at her quickly, just for the sake of eye contact.
