I heard that you're settled down
That you found a girl and you're married now
I heard that your dreams came true
I guess she gave you things I couldn't give to you
–Last call, everyone!â€
The announcement provoked a flurry of customers to rush up to the bar with their orders - whether they had finished their previous drinks or not. It was a relatively busy Friday night and unfortunately The Leaky Cauldron was rather understaffed due to the chief barmaid, Felicity Fairfax, being on her honeymoon. The only assistance Neville had was the somewhat confused trainee, Bromius, who appeared on the verge of a nervous breakdown as one customer berated him for serving him an Ambrosic Ale instead of Bluebelly Mead. But alas, despite the staffing problem, he could not very well close the inn - especially now his wife was the landlady.
Wife - the word still felt so foreign and strange whenever he thought of it. He had never thought that he, Neville Longbottom, would have a wife. It was not that he did not want to get married - he always had. He just never imagined, not for a moment, that the awkward, unassuming boy he had been at Hogwarts would ever get someone to look beyond his shy exterior and see someone capable of such great bravery, love and loyalty. But she did - perhaps not for some time; however, they had never properly spoken until their last year at school.
That had been a trying time for both of them - to say the least. She was dealing with the loss of her mother and he was attempting to head Dumbledore’s Army and rouse a bunch of dejected and world-weary teenagers to rebellion. He knew he could never be a sufficient replacement for Harry, but he endeavoured, with the help of his peers, to be an inspiration in the ‘Golden Trio’s’ absence. At first, no one would listen to bumbling Neville Longbottom - but she did. One night, after one of their DA meetings, he had found her weeping silent tears. He had talked to her; comforted her. They had become good friends after that day.
It took them several years before they became anything more than friends. It was two years ago last January when Neville had been sitting on a stool in the same tavern he now served in, his head hanging so low he was practically drowning himself in his Firewhisky, when she had occupied the seat next to him. It was her turn to utter the comforting words this time. On reflection, his problems seemed so inadequate compared to hers, though, at the time, they had meant the whole world to him. She chatted to him, made him smile and stoked the embers of the fire he thought had been extinguished. It was even her idea, once he had explained to her that the Auror programme was not all he had imagined it to be, to apply for the Herbology position at Hogwarts. He had done so upon Professor Sprout’s retirement and had never looked back.
They had begun dating not long after their chance meeting at The Leaky Cauldron. She had joked about loving that place and the part it had taken in the beginning of their relationship so much that she one day wished to own it. Together, they had made that dream a reality. She had signed the contract over a year ago now - allowing Tom to retire to a cottage in his hometown of Glamorgan. Their first night in their new home above the tavern: Neville proposed. Two months ago, they had their wedding in the little church in Burnsall where her parents had got married twenty five years ago, almost to the day.
His wife - he smiled every time he thought the word - would have been helping him at the bar that night, but she was ill again. Sickness had struck her down over a week ago now and he had been trying to balance out nursing her back to health and keeping The Leaky Cauldron running. It had been fine before Felicity and Gaddiel had taken off on their honeymoon two days ago - Bromius and he were struggling rather badly by themselves. She always managed to keep a cool head, even when the inn was at its busiest or when customers were refusing to leave. Now it was all down to Neville - Bromius could scarcely make the correct orders, let alone summon up the courage to say no to a patron.
The crowd of customers began to thin little by little and, as the last one left through the exit into Muggle London, Neville dismissed Bromius with an encouraging smile and promise that it would get easier - Bromius did not look convinced. He sealed the Floo Network to the main bar area. If any of the tenants to the rooms upstairs wished to return at a later hour, they could Floo directly into their rooms. He summoned some of the glasses sitting on the bar and washed them magically and returned them to the shelves. He had broken more than one glass through this method of tidying - his wife was always telling him to do it manually, but it took three times as long that way.
He was in the middle of ‘Scourgifying’ a group of tankards when he heard the bell tinkle to the door which led to Muggle London. He recognised it easily as the clapper had a rather pronounced dent in it on one side, so would make a slightly different noise as it hit each side of the inside of the bell. Assuming it was merely another customer who didn’t realise that they had closed, Neville didn’t look up from his washing as he called to the stranger over his shoulder.
–Sorry, mate - we’re closed,†he stated firmly, in case there was any argument. He received no reply, however. Perhaps it was Bromius coming back for something or a previous customer who had left something behind. He heard the scraping of a stool and the light sound of shoes leaving the ground and taking their place on the foot-rest. Neville rolled his eyes: he had had to deal with persistent customers before and he never enjoyed it.
He huffed and braced himself for what was, no doubt, going to be a bit of a fight on his part. Tumbler in hand, he revolved wearily on the spot, attempting to fix a look that said ‘I am the landlord, and my word is final’ on his face. Whenever he usually tried to do so, however, it looked like he was in physical pain. Mrs. Longbottom assured him that it would be something he’d get used to doing in time, but being authoritative was not exactly his forte.
–I said we’re - oh.â€
Upon finding the eyes of the intruder, Neville’s word-flow promptly ceased. This was not some drunken fool, nor was it a prospective customer or even Bromius come to retrieve some forgotten item. This was someone entirely unexpected - the last person on earth, in fact, that he imagined seeing in that moment. Thoughts raced through his stunned mind, though he could not formulate speech out of them. He gaped like a moron and his brow became laced with sweat. He was only alerted to the fact that he was shaking when he dropped the tumbler on the floor, causing a loud crashing sound in the deathly silence. A giggle sounded from the visitor.
–Hey, Nev,†the visitor breathed. Neville could not fight the blush which had inched up his face from the combination of his embarrassment at his clumsiness and the way his name sounded on her lips - an utterance he had not heard for so long. Great, he inwardly admonished, all of ten seconds in her presence and I’m seventeen again.
–Hey, Nev.†He looked up towards the source of the greeting with bleary eyes. He had been in somewhat of a daze since the end of...well, everything. He couldn’t quite believe that, after what seemed like a lifetime of fighting - it was all over; they had won. He felt such overwhelming relief that it made him feel numb. He couldn’t even take in the identity of the person before him - he merely stared at them dumbly as they sat down next to him on the cold stone floor.
They sat in silence for a while, Neville staring straight forwards. His companion could have left for all he knew - such was his detachment from reality. It was almost as if he did not know what to do with himself anymore. He had spent months - years, even - knowing that the war was coming. Come it had: violently and furiously. All the preparation, all the worrying and waiting; then it came. And nothing, nothing in the world, could have prepared him for it. He thought he knew how it would unfold and what would be required of him - but he had no idea, not really. He was just a child: they all were. Some were children forever now.
Colin Creevey. Neville had seen him - lying there. He had always been small, and he still was, especially in death. Stupid boy - but weren’t they all stupid? Thinking they could make a difference? No, he thought: because they had. He only had to look around to see what they had done. They were a bunch of children: the second generation to be terrorised by him - Voldemort, a dead tyrant. They were children, yes - but not anymore. And Colin Creevey was not stupid. He had just wanted to fight, as they all had. The difference was: he had not survived; neither had Professor Lupin, Tonks, Fred Weasley and countless others. For that, Neville was truly sorry. But he could not be sorry for the end they had died for. To see Voldemort fall saved them all from years of tyranny and torment. It didn’t bring those who had died back, but no one would ever forget them and the part they took in delivering an entire generation from the most loathed persecutor of the innocent.
And now his hand was suddenly warm. His fingers tingled pleasantly as a set of petite fingers wrapped around his callused hand. He looked to them: his companion’s hand was far smaller than his own; their fingers slender and soft, despite the grime which covered them. That small hand joined onto a long, thin arm covered by a slightly shabby navy cardigan. Rounded shoulders followed on from that and then a long, white neck, scattered with purple and black bruises - as if someone had grabbed her about the throat. Wisps of dirty-blonde hair hung about her face and tickled the violent bruises on her neck; a thick blonde plait hung over her other shoulder. Her ears were slightly reddened and her lips drawn back in a serene smile. Her small nose had a sheen of sweat and her eyes were covered by heavy lids.
She turned her head towards him a little and widened her smile still. She squeezed his hand and emitted a breathy laugh. She opened her eyes to reveal glowing blue orbs. He had always remembered them as more of a grey colour - like the sort of colour his ‘Somno Pacium’ potion went in fifth year when it was supposed to turn indigo. Today, however, her eyes shone a brighter blue than he had seen before. There were still flecks of silver in them, yes - but they were definitely blue, and they were beautiful. She was beautiful.
–You did it, Nev,†she said, smilingly. Neville shifted uncomfortably at the undue compliment. He shook his head a little, dizzying himself unintentionally.
–I didn’t do anything. It was Harry, really,†he amended weakly. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder lightly. He smiled in spite of himself and grew horribly aware of the fact his jumper was several days worn and caked in a combination of sweat and reptile blood - and probably some of his own thrown in for good measure.
–It was Harry’s destiny to defeat Voldemort, not yours,†she pointed out in that matter-of-fact way she always did. She withdrew her head from his shoulder to look him directly in the eye. –When we all thought Harry had died you could have stopped and walked away - but you didn’t. You kept fighting; you destroyed his last Horcrux,†she smiled, –you did it, Nev.†He blushed and was forced to look away from her. He shook his head once and allowed himself a small smile as he cleared his throat.
–We did it - we all did it,†he corrected her. He cast a furtive glance at her and saw that her inquisitive eyes were surveying him closely.
–Yes, we did,†she agreed and she grinned at him broadly. He turned his face to hers fully now - he could not avoid a smile such as that. He had not really noticed it before - not properly, not until the end of his sixth year. It was slightly crooked and displayed a full set of teeth, one of which was chipped a bit. She had one dimple which threw off the symmetry of her heart-shaped face. It was imperfect, this lopsided smile, but it was for him - and that made it the most perfect thing he had seen since the start of this bleak war.
–We could have died,†he blurted out stupidly. She blinked at him with large, soulful eyes.
–But we didn’t, Nev,†she stated simply. Neville shook his head - she forever frustrated him with her frank and literal attitude. It was one of the things that had confused him the most about her initially - but had grown to like it. No, he corrected himself: he had grown to love it.
–But we could have,†he countered. He inhaled a deep breath and continued. –But I’m glad we didn’t.†Well, that was stupid, he thought. Her face did not reflect this, however. She merely allowed her forehead to wrinkle and smiled at him kindly. She squeezed his rough hand in her own.
–Me too,†she said simply. Neville sighed and attempted to start again. Leaning his head against the wall, he swung it towards her so that he was facing her completely and she, him.
–What I mean is: I’m especially glad that you’re - that you - you’re okay,†he stammered incoherently. In that moment he felt every bit as dim-witted as Draco Malfoy had alleged for the past six years.
–I’m glad you’re okay too, Neville,†she said softly and his heart leapt joyously. –And Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny - we’re all safe now.†Neville’s heart sank. She didn’t entirely understand the point of what he was trying to tell her; he needed to be clearer.
–I don’t know what I would have done if you - you had -â€
–You never need to imagine,†she said in reply to his unfinished sentence. He looked to her with keen eyes - latching onto that response for dear life.
–Promise?†he asked desperately. –Promise you’ll never leave me?†Even as he said it he blushed at how pathetic it sounded and how bare it made him feel - as if he had revealed too much of himself. She appeared uncertain for the first time since they had begun this conversation and he was regretting his decision to voice his true desires.
–I can’t do that, Nev,†she said simply. He wasn’t numb anymore. If he was still numb, he wouldn’t feel like someone had driven a strong fist into his stomach - repeatedly. His breathing became restricted and he felt like his chest was tightening. He turned his head from hers to conceal the furious blush highlighting his gaunt face - hiding from their oppressive staff-members had done wonders for shifting his puppy-fat. He was slipping his fingers out from underneath her hand when he felt them being clutched with surprising strength. His head too, was guided back to look at her with soft but firm fingers beneath his chin. His brown eyes met her bright blue ones and the silver in them seemed to shine with even more intensity than before.
–I can’t promise I’ll never leave, because I don’t know what will happen in the future; none of us do - especially not Professor Trelawney,†she joked and Neville allowed himself a feeble smile. Her face became suddenly serious: a strange look on a girl so often serene or smiling.
–But, I think...†she paused for a moment and he held his breath. –I think I can promise that I’ll never want to,†she finished sincerely. Neville did two things next, in very quick succession. First, he exhaled sharply; then, he lowered his head towards hers with such eagerness and relief and joy that it collided with hers with a loud ‘thump.’
–Ouch!†he cried and he inhaled through his teeth, creating a sort of hissing sound. He ignored his own discomfort, however and turned to her - frantically smoothing her wispy hair away from the point of impact. He felt a pang of anger as he realised that he would not be able to distinguish which mark he had made through the matted, bloodied hair on her forehead and a handful of swelling bruises near her hairline. He absently continued to smooth her hair and he noticed, with relief, that she was smiling.
–Sorry,†he apologised sheepishly, –are you all right?†he asked concernedly. She didn’t reply; she didn’t need to. She titled her head upwards and leant forwards and did what he could not. She pressed her lips against his softly. It was a chaste kiss - a first kiss for both of them. It was clumsily executed, unsure and possessed the coppery taste of blood. But it was perfect because it was with her.
She leant back and looked up at him through partially closed lashes. She smiled at him, her beautiful asymmetrical smile. He merely stared at her open-mouthed - probably resulting in an overall look of brainlessness. He couldn’t quite believe what had just happened: that whole day had been completely surreal - the good and bad parts of it. This most definitely fell into the former’s category. His heart swelled and he felt his eyes glass over a little. For the first time in a year he felt hope for the future; for the first time in a year, he was certain he would have one; for the first time - he was certain that she would be a part of it.
–Oh,†he said stupidly - for she had banished all coherent thoughts from his head. She let out a breathy laugh and touched her fingertips to his cheek and rested her forehead to his. He repressed a wince as she touched the tender spot where their heads had collided. She touched her lips briefly to his once more and his whole body quivered with the feel of it. She withdrew and remained leaning against his forehead. She inhaled a shuddering breath and he realised that a solitary tear was rolling down towards her smiling lips.
–Oh,†she breathed.
I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited
But I couldn't stay away - I couldn't fight it
I'd hope you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
That for me, it isn't over yet
–Neville,†she interrupted his chain of thought, –are you in there?†she asked jokingly. Her weak smile didn’t quite conceal the concern on her face. Her eyes didn’t betray any emotion - though they were just as bright as he had remembered them: brighter, in fact, because reality is always better than your imagination. Try though he might, he could not banish the memory of those blue orbs flecked with silver from his mind. He had known, truly, that he should not be thinking of them now that he had Hannah - but occasionally, they would drift into his mind without permission and expelling them was next to impossible.
–How are you?†she inquired serenely, as if they had only been talking yesterday and she was just asking about the weather. He couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t the kind, jovial laugh usually associated with Neville Longbottom - this one was cruel and bark-like and belonged to someone else entirely. Her composure never faltered.
–‘How are you?’†he mocked in a childish voice. –How do you think I am, Luna?†He stumbled over the name for a moment. It was odd that a name which was once so familiar to him - a name that would previously have been said with loving affection or breathed with a laugh - was now choked out, as if physically painful to utter. Luna Lovegood widened her innocent eyes, but otherwise did not change her facial expression.
–I don’t know - that’s why I’m asking,†she clarified, like she was explaining something very complicated to a confused child. Neville laughed bitterly. It was definitely her, though he could scarcely believe it. That infuriating literalism could belong to no one else. He surveyed her face with tired eyes. It had only been a year since he last saw her, yet she had changed.
Her hair was lighter and far longer than the last time she had stood before him. Her skin had been bronzed lightly by the Mediterranean sun from her pursuit of the next rare magical creature sighting. She did not dress as she had in her youth - gone were the radish earrings and the lion hats. There were still the touches of her old Hogwarts style: her silver hoops had small ravens dangling in the centre and she wore the same bangles she had worn as a teenager. She was more refined than she used to be - in a pale blue embroidered summer dress. Her long hair was pulled off her face by a twisted silk headscarf. There was one constant: her smile - it was still beautiful.
–Where were you, Tune?†It was a nickname he had adopted for her several years ago, mocking the ignorant nickname of ‘Loony’ given by those who had not taken the time to get to know the real Luna. Hearing it now, he saw her lip twitch a little - betraying scarcely revealed emotions. She jumped down from her bar stool and walked a couple of paces until she was standing opposite him, on the other side of the bar.
–I was travelling around Dragonera and the islands surrounding - it’s supposed to be natural habitat of the Bainodendrons, you know? The ancestors of the Kappas? Anyway, it was beautiful, Nev - you should have seen it! I’ve brought you back a clipping of the Variegated Pamplousse plant: apparently they can only be found in-â€
–I don’t care,†he cut her off coldly. It was a lie - he did care and, had it been anyone else or another time, he would have happily seen the clipping. As it was, there were more pressing matters at hand. She did not appear put-out and merely waited in silence for him to continue. –Where were you? It was my wedding, Tune. I wrote to you - you said you’d come.†He tried not to sound angry, but he could not keep the edge from his voice. It was true: he had written and she had replied that she would be returning in time for the ceremony. They had continued correspondence until a few days before the wedding. He had looked for her face there at the main table along with his family and his best friends - but she was not there. It had been a couple of months since then and, as far as he knew, this was the first anyone had heard from her.
–It was your wedding,†she said tonelessly. Neville frowned at her - wondering why she was repeating the same fact he had already presented her with. She bowed her head and he followed her eye-line to their hands stretched-out towards each other on the bar-top. She inched her hand forward slightly and touched her fingertips to his. She looked up at him with a melancholy smile.
–It was your wedding, Neville.†He understood what she was trying to say and his anger dissipated somewhat. He edged his own hand forwards and laced his fingers into hers: the rough against the smooth.
–I still missed seeing my best girl’s face there though,†Neville said warmly. He had meant it to be endearing and affectionate - instead, she flinched and her fingers tensed against his. She looked up at him with keen eyes and gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head.
–Second best,†she corrected sharply. Neville’s brow furrowed, so she clarified. –You have Hannah now,†Luna pointed out in that matter-of-fact tone she nearly always used.
–Oh, yes, right,†he agreed awkwardly. They lapsed into silence for a long while and he stroked her fingers absently: they were just as small as he remembered them and they seemed to be naturally warm all the time.
–I love you, Nev,†she murmured in a soft voice. He smiled to himself and watched his fingers interlaced with those of his best friend. He didn’t realise how much he had missed her until he saw her sitting on that stool.
–I love you too, Tune. It’s great to have my best mate back - I’ve been spending way too much time with Bromius and it’s driving me-â€
–No. I love you.†Although she basically reiterated her previous sentiments, he knew exactly what she meant. The smile fell from his face and he withdrew his hand like she had burnt it with Fiendfyre. He took a step back from the bar and surveyed her warily.
–And you wait until now to tell me? It was my wedding two months ago, Luna!†he exclaimed with newly incited frustration. She nodded calmly in agreement, despite his outburst.
–Yes, I think we established that earlier.†The was no derision to her tone - she was just stating facts. Neville ignored her and powered on with his increasingly infuriated questioning.
–Why now? Why not say something before the wedding?†he interrogated her angrily.
–Would it have made a difference?â€
–Of-of course not,†Neville spluttered unconvincingly. Luna shrugged and her raven earrings swung a little as she did so.
–Well then.†Neville exhaled shortly and stormed out from behind the bar to go and collect some plates manually - if only to deflect his attention somehow. He needed something else to occupy his thoughts and his hands: he was being too easily riled by her. He stacked the plates clumsily and dumped them unceremoniously on the side of the bar. Having caught sight of her drumming her fingers on the counter out of the corner of his eye, he whipped around to face her.
–If you feel that way, then why did you tell me you didn’t want to be with me anymore three years ago?†he interrogated heatedly. Luna frowned at this slightly and shook her head of dirty-blonde hair.
–It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with you - it was just bad timing. I wanted to travel around the Galapagos and see the short-tailed Horlax in their natural habitat and you were just getting settled into the Auror’s office. It wouldn’t be fair to drag you away from that-â€
–No - you know what wasn’t fair? Leaving me when I thought I could build a life with you!†It was unusual for him to get this upset or angry about anything. Neville was always known for being gentle-natured and cheerful - but right then, all the anger and hurt that he had felt from three years ago came rushing back to the surface. He had buried it for so long - in his relationship with Hannah and his friendship with Luna. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel bitterness about the situation still: it just took her return to remind him about it.
–But that wasn’t the real reason, was it? ‘Bad timing?’ What was it, Luna?†he asked her almost desperately. He had always wanted to ask her - he had so wanted to know before she left for the Galapagos but she merely fed him the same nonsense about not wanting to hold him back from his job. When she returned, he had met Hannah and they settled back into the familiarity of friendship - he thinking that she no longer cared. Now, here she was saying that she had always loved him - and now he needed to know the real reason.
–I already told you,†she said determinedly, though her eyes would not meet his. Neville took a step forwards, shaking his head as he did so.
–I don’t believe you,†he told her honestly. She looked to him with pained eyes - one of the only times he had seen them so. The childlike quality left her and she appeared weary and torn.
–It’s true,†she argued determinedly, though her eyes betrayed her. Neville stepped forwards again and gently grabbed her forearms.
–Luna, please,†he implored her and she cowered from his pleading gaze. He felt her shuddering under his hold and he wondered if he were perhaps being a little cruel. It was not his intention - he just needed to understand: so that he could fully move on.
–I don’t know what you want me to say, Nev,†she mumbled feebly, still not looking at him directly.
–The truth, for a start,†he grumbled sarcastically. She flinched at his tone and he sighed and removed one of his hands from her arm to tilt her chin upwards. Her eyes were watery and it made him think of the summer they spent together in Cadgwith; he smiled. –Tune-–
–I was scared,†she blurted out involuntarily - the utterance of the endearment had been a catalyst. Neville’s smile turned to a frown and he removed his hand from her chin.
–Scared? Of what? You’re not scared of anything - you were fighting Death Eaters at the age of fifteen, for Merlin’s sake!†he spoke with laughter in his voice, though there was still a slight edge to his tone. She inclined her head in acknowledgement.
–Yes but-â€
–You travel all around the world looking for hitherto unheard of magical creatures!†Again, she nods in recognition of his argument.
–I know, but-â€
–Finding Crumple-Horned Backpacks and Shrimpies or whatever-†It was his turn to be interrupted with a petulant stamp of her foot. In all eight years of knowing her, Neville had never seen Luna act in this way. He was taken by surprise and ceased his speech at once. Her wide blue eyes bored into his brown ones and she jutted her chin out angrily.
–See! This is exactly what I was afraid of! That deep down you - even you - my sweet, kind Neville, thought I was mad going on these expeditions. Maybe everyone was right at Hogwarts when they called me ‘Loony Lovegood!’†Her words echoed out into the heavy silence that followed. All that could be heard were her heavy breaths and the distant rumble of Mr Philpot snoring in Room 11. He was torn between intense frustration and pity when he saw her bottom lip tremble and her fists clenched - as if that would help control her quaking body. He shifted towards her and placed his hands on her shoulders gingerly.
–How could you even think that, Luna? I loved you because of all those things - because of your sense of adventure and the fact you stood by your beliefs, even when others doubted you; the fact you didn’t care what other people thought and did what made you happy.†She stared up at him with uncertain eyes and her brow knitted slightly as she processed his words.
–But when I said I was going to leave - you belittled my work! You said I didn’t need to go; that my home was with you and that I could ‘search for Bendy-Backed Lobwigs and Long-Eyelashed Hobblewoats to my heart’s content - as long as it was in Britain.’†Neville cringed at hearing his own words recited back to him with excruciating accuracy. –Neither of which exist, by the way,†she added as an afterthought. Neville had to repress the urge to laugh.
–I was desperate, Tune. I just wanted you to stay with me,†he said honestly and a little weakly. –I loved you; I would have said anything to make you stay,†he mumbled abashedly. Luna cocked her head to the side and surveyed him closely. He could feel a warm blush rise up his cheeks - he was not used to being inspected like this; he did not like it much. Though he had lost some of the puppy-fat he had from Hogwarts, he was by no stretch of the imagination attractive. He had boring sandy coloured hair, a rather stubby nose and dull brown eyes. Hermione had helped him fix his teeth the same way Madam Pompfrey did with hers, so at least that had improved a bit - but it was a small consolation. Neville Longbottom epitomised the word ‘nondescript.’
–Loved?†she said curiously under her breath. Neville didn’t know what to say to that in the slightest. He could either pretend he didn’t understand what she was talking about - or answer honestly. Though, if he really thought about it, he didn’t know what the truth was anymore. He loved Hannah - of that he was certain. But Luna...for eight years she had been a very important part of his life - from friendship to more than that: she had been there with him. The years he had spent with Hannah did not change the fact that Luna was one of his best friends and yes: he did love her - but as more than friends?
–Tune-†But he didn’t get to finish his sentence; he didn’t need to. She titled her head upwards and leant forwards and did what they had not done for three years now. She pressed her lips against his softly. It was a chaste kiss - much like their first one. It was as clumsily executed and unsure as the last. But for her, it was perfect because it was with him.
He gripped her shoulders for a moment and relished the feel of her perpetually warms hands on his face. He invested all the passion he could into that one second before he put some pressure on her shoulders and wrenched himself away from her and the dreadful nostalgia which had crept in with the feeling of her lips against his. Though their lips were parted, he rested his forehead against hers and tingled slightly as he felt her warm breath on his face.
–I’m married, Tune,†he reminded her softly. He felt a dreadful wrench of guilt as he thought of Hannah: beautiful Hannah with her blonde pigtails; rosy cheeks and piercing blue eyes. She was kind and compassionate, clever and funny and she was all his. He wasn’t being the man she married in this moment - she deserved better than this. And so did Luna.
–I know,†she trembled weakly. Neville raised his hands to her face and smoothed her hair back. –I just - I messed up so badly, Nev. I could have been happy with you and now-â€
–Hey, hey,†he comforted her soothingly. Small droplets of water were rolling down her face and fell lightly onto his jumper. Not for the first time tonight, Neville felt horribly guilty. He cupped her face in his hands and drew his head back a bit so that he could look her in the eye. She was determinedly avoiding his gaze, however, making his attempts rather difficult.
–Look at me.†She resisted and he stroked her cheek gently, wiping away a stray tear as he did so. –Luna, look at me,†he asked her coaxingly; this time she did so. Her eyes were melancholy - in all the time he had known her, she had never looked as pained as she did standing before him now. –I am with Hannah now, yes. But I will always love you so, so much - you’re my best friend, how could I not?†She winced a little at his last sentence, so he swiftly continued.
–I can promise you: you will find someone who won’t want to live out his life at the same school he grew up at, but will want to travel the world with you - find all the exotic species you’ve dreamt of. You’ll make new discoveries together and visit wonderful places. Maybe when you’re older, you’ll come back to England and settle down with a child or two - but until that time, you’ll have such adventures!†he enthused with a cheery voice that did not exactly belong to him. She still appeared highly sceptical and in an effort to keep himself from breaking down, he re-doubled his efforts.
–And he will be funny and kind and charming and he will look after you - he better or I’ll be on his case! And you will love him - more than you ever loved me.†She made a noise of incredulity at this as Neville made a sound between a laugh and a sob. –And he will love you - so, so much. Because, how could he not, you know?â€
And now they were both crying: their foreheads resting against one another, as one of his hands cupped her face and the other smoothed her dirty blonde hair away from the tears which were sticking it to her cheeks. Her small hands clutched at his chest as silent tears flowed in streams down her sodden cheeks. They stayed like this for longer than either of them knew - until finally the tears subsided. It was not due to lack of emotion: they had simply run out. Some pressure left his forehead and he flicked his eyes open to see that she had moved her head back a couple of inches and was looking up at him with wide reddened eyes and a small smile.
–Promise?†she asked him in a voice just above a whisper. He exhaled a breathy laugh and pulled her body against his. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head as she leant into his chest. He cradled her for a moment and inhaled the warm smells of orange blossom and lavender - just as he had remembered them. He smiled into her hair and laid a gentle kiss atop her head.
–I promise.â€
Nothing compares, no worries or cares
Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?
–We should really get back to the Great Hall,†Neville pointed out glumly - he didn’t want to leave their sanctuary. Back in the Hall was the irreconcilable mixture of overwhelming grief and overpowering joy. Here was calm and peaceful and, best of all, she was there.
–Not yet, Nev. We just need to take a moment before we get back to our lives.†She swung her head around to face his once more and she was smiling broadly. They both sat, slumped against the wall with their hands entwined and both wore identical expression of elation.
–Our lives - the rest of our lives! If you’d asked me yesterday, I would have doubted such a thing was possible,†he said with a mixture of happiness and regret. For some - such a thing was not possible. She squeezed his hand and he smiled wider: she understood. She always had a habit of doing that, his Luna, understanding people and their feelings in a way in which no one else could. ‘His Luna’ - his smile widened still.
–So, what do you want to do with the rest of your life?†she asked him in a perfectly serious voice. Neville laughed at the impossibility of the question. He hadn’t exactly made plans because he didn’t know he had anything to plan for. Any ideas he had had before the war seemed like a lifetime ago. He was certain of nothing anymore - with one exception.
–I don’t know what I want to do yet, but what I do know is that I whatever I do, I want it to involve you. Be it travelling the world looking for some new exotic species of Kneazle or something,†she laughed at this and, encouraged, he continued, –Or staying in England and raising a family as a world-famous magical creature expert and her Herbologist husband,†she raised her eyebrows and he blushed, –it won’t matter, ‘cause I’ll be with you.†He smiled at her and rested his forehead against hers once again.
–And I’ll do my very best to make you laugh and treat you like you deserve and look after you. And I will love you - so, so much. Because how could I not, you know?†he whispered, trying his very best to stop his voice from wavering. She saved him from having to say another word as she pressed her smiling lips against his and he returned the gesture with all the love and affection he felt for her in that moment. She leant back and smiled at him - that crooked, pure smile that he loved so much.
–Promise?†she asked him tentatively. He smiled and pulled her close against him. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head as she leant into his chest. He cradled her for a moment and in amongst the coppery smell of blood and the stale sweat, he thought he could pick out the faint scent of orange and lavender. He smiled into her hair and laid a gentle kiss atop her head.
–I promise.â€
Never mind I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you
Don't forget me, I begged, I remember, you said
Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead
Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead
Someone Like You by Alice Mac
Story Notes:
I am not J.K Rowling (unfortunately) and the song lyrics I use belong to the wonderful Adele from the song 'Someone Like You.' Thank you so much to Alice (theblacksister) for beta-ing this one-shot - she's done a great job!
Chapter Endnotes:
Thanks for reading! I was always a big fan of this ship and was a bit sad when JKR quashed the rumours - but I'm playing with the idea that the Deathly Hallows Part 2 gave me of a relationship before Neville and Hannah and Luna and Rolf. I hope you enjoyed and please tell me what you think - I love reviews!