Luville Lovebottom

DISCLAIMER: I am not Just Kidding when I say that I'm not J.K. (R.)

Luville Lovebottom on Mondays

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Uncertainty

Their relationship was chaste and timid from the upstart, but still fulfilling. Keeping it quiet for a few months, they learned more about each other and, certainly in Neville's case, grew fonder of one another.

Of course, Luna had to finish school, but it was easy to put their relationship on hold. Neville didn't have the guts to work on his prospects anywhere else, nor did he have the interest in doing so. Luna similarly had absolutely nobody who desired her, and she said she desired no one but him, anyhow.

He said that if she found someone else, she could pursue them without guilt, but she just smiled and said she'd wait. Luna, being a woman of her word, did exactly that.

After graduating from Hogwarts, a few weeks later than scheduled due to that pesky little delay called The Battle of Hogwarts, Neville found that his life was fairly stable. At his grandmum's gentle nudging, he moved out of her home, got his own flat, and started an apprenticeship with Pomona Sprout. (She had been one of the ones who resigned when Snape started at Hogwarts, and, as a credited Herbologist, she started her own business, and took on Neville as an apprentice.

He kept his flat in immaculate order, and he often invited friends to tea. His favorite person to invite was Luna Lovegood--once she herself graduated, of course--if only because they were dating.

She had helped him choose the place in the summer before her 7th year, a Ministry-approved Magical Housing Situation. The proprietor was a crotchety old witch who smiled when Luna addressed her about the Ticking Trompers that supposedly dwelt in the fine grand-dame's floorboards. It was also with Luna's assistance that Neville moved into his new lodgings.

He felt very proud of his new establishment, and had made a list of all the people he wanted to invite over to visit. Though, when he had a free moment to take a caller, he usually could not find the list, so he ended up not asking many people at all, at least not until Luna graduated.

This was not a bad arrangement, once she was home for good from Hogwarts, because, when he managed to get in contact with her, she was almost always was 'not free, but willing to come over anyhow' and she nearly always brought her work along.

On one such occasion, she was making greeting cards when he summoned her, and she just scooped them into her apron and brought them through the Floo.

"They're Congratulations cards," she explained as she dropped her materials in a disorganized heap on Neville's dining table. While he valued order, he was still able to appreciate her artsy sort of sloppiness. Whatever she touched, whether it was her hair, or her handwriting, or her crafts, she always achieved a sort of Bohemian beauty.

Neville touched a string of spider-web beads that Luna had attached to one card. It was arranged in a spiraled heart pattern that he knew was the ancient Sumerian symbol for love, longetivity, and prosperity.

"That's lovely," he said, fondly placing the otherwise blank card back on the table. "Congratulations for what?"

"For someone's engagement," she explained in her placid manner, and enchanted a pair of scissors to cut out a delicate lace design from some paper while she folded another card.

Neville sat down next to her. "Can I help?" he asked. "I've not got the best taste when it comes to art, but if you tell me what to do..."

Without raising her head, Luna nodded. "Pass me the pink paper, if you would?"

He squinted at the paper before him, and finally passed a few sheets to her.

As she received them, her perpetually surprised expression became even more astonished. "You're color-blind."

"No, I'm not," he pleaded.

"You passed me light green paper when I asked for pink. You are color-blind."

Without another word, she went back to painting a bouquet of green--no, pink!--flowers on the front of a card.

The revelation, though not something welcome to Neville, seemed to open up a new world for him. No wonder he was so bad at potions, that being an art very much based on colors, no wonder he had trouble discerning stunners from the death curse, no wonder he could not tell the difference between the wrappers of puking pastilles and dysentery delicacies! His eyes were the problem, not his abilities. The idea warmed his heart, giving him a surge of self-confidence.

Out of gratitude, he gently wound his arms around her and kissed her, whispering his thanks in her ear, and they became so distracted with each other that neither noticed when Luna dropped the card she had been working on and it landed on the floor.

Later, once she had gathered up her work and left, he found it when he was sweeping and discovered, to his shock, that the card was made out to congratulate the engagement of one Neville Longbottom and one Luna Lovegood.

A subtle hint, much?

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More often than not, Neville felt out-of-place and awkward, not least of all after he realized that Luna had matrimony in mind. Was it his job to propose to her, or did she intend to propose to him? He waited for a week for some cue from her, but received none.

Maybe she did not want to marry him at all, maybe that little card was something she had written to help her decide if she was really in love with him. He imagined her writing it, in her absentminded way, then looking at it, and then cringing in disgust. Marry Neville? Ew! he contemplated her thinking, and he got very depressed at the idea.

When he saw her next, he thrust a bunch of bonny-blue wildflowers into her gentle hands, which were dingy with dried paste and ink. Despite his doubts, he still went to her house, and still had her over, because he knew he was thoroughly in love with her, and he did not want to lose her sooner than was avoidable.

"You're unhappy," Luna observed, penetrating his soul despite the fact that he was trying very hard to hide his feelings. They had finished their usual greeting of one another, and now had settled at the kitchen table, where the latest Quibbler spreadsheets were arranged for review and examination.

While appreciating how she knew him so well, Neville was a tad irked that he was so transparent. "Why do you think so?"

Her eyes met his unblinkingly. "The last time you brought me flowers was when you had been to see your parents beforehand. You were trying very hard to be cheerful, same as now."

She did not ask what was wrong, of course; she waited for him to explain.

Settling back in his chair, Neville crossed his arms and braced himself.

"I guess I'd rather not talk about it," he muttered, feeling a coward, but he was terrified.

In a movement no more noticeable than a slight breeze, Luna ruffled his hair.

"When you don't feel so scared of it, I wouldn't mind listening," she said softly.

Stiff, he took his hand and wrapped it around hers. "I love you," he said simply.

"I love you too. Are you all right now?"

She knew! Neville thought in awe. He realized that he ought not be surprised to know it.

"Yeah, I'm all right."

So it was cryptically conveyed to him that it was his job, not hers.

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