Moonlit Courage

Chapter Two

Dear Neville,

I cannot believe that you forgot your Herbology textbook. It is the one subject that you excel in, and yet you forget your materials! Do not expect me to continue sending you your things. Good luck in your seventh year, and try not to get into any trouble, for your sake and mine.

With love, Gran

Neville folded the letter and stuck it in his bag, then turned to the package. As soon as he untied it from the owl, which hooted and flew off immediately, he tore back the brown paper. There was his Herbology textbook, in his hand, not on his desk where he had left it. He knew Gran would always send him his things; after all, hadn't she complimented him in the letter? Well, an almost-compliment.

He couldn't help feeling, however, that Voldemort had obviously made the right choice. Nothing would happen if he chose to attack forgetful, dull Neville Longbottom. At that thought, Neville mentally smacked himself. He was not going to think about the prophecy. He would forget about Luna and go on living his life like usual.

But 'usual' was not a term to be used lightly anymore. The signs of the war were everywhere. Last night, at the feast, the House tables were missing many, many students. Parents had already been pulling their children out, but with the death of Dumbledore, nobody seemed to want to return. Neville had been disgusted to see that the Slytherin table was the fullest- apparently, not many thought that they were in immediate danger. The feast had lacked the warm, happy feeling of the others Neville had been to, and even though Professor McGonagall was an excellent Headmistress, she was nothing on Dumbledore.

Pushing his thoughts on both the prophecy and Dumbledore aside, Neville stood up and began heading towards his first class. The halls were uncharacteristically empty, and Neville felt as though he was a first year again, frightened by the size of the halls and unsure where to go. He paused on a staircase, lost in his thoughts.

Could he really make it through the whole year without speaking to Luna? He needed to put as much distance between her and himself as possible. But... what if she spoke to him first? Neville ran a hand over the banister of the stairs. He would have to tell her something, tell her that he could never speak to her again...

"Neville?"

"Agghhh!" Neville whipped around at the sound of the voice, Luna's voice, and lost his balance. In a jumble of his own legs and arms, Neville toppled down the stairs until he came to a sudden stop. Unsure as to the reason for his halt, Neville tried to stand back up, but found he couldn't.

"Ohhh, Merlin..." Neville could not believe the situation he was in. He had landed on the trick step, so that his bottom, one arm, and one foot had sunk into it, stopping him from falling. He flailed his other leg and arm in the air wildly, struggling to get free. Luna watched him calmly from several steps above.

Neville considered his position. He could stay here, stuck forever, and never have to do anything again. Or, he could break his resolve and ask Luna for help. The former was rather tempting, but his body was aching from so awkward a position, and besides, if it was anyone but Luna, he could ask that person for help without being in 'close contact.'

"Can I have a hand?" Neville called, extending his available one. Luna blinked and hurried down the steps to where Neville was.

"I thought you didn't want help," she said conversationally, grasping his hand and pulling hard. Neville had one fleeting moment to think, Oh, Merlin, she's touching me! before he was pulled from the step with a loud sucking noise, and Luna let go.

"What made you think I didn't want help?" Neville asked, panting slightly and pulling his bag out of the step before it vanished completely.

"Well, if you had held completely still, it would seem like you had no way of getting out. But you were moving around and everything, so I thought you were trying to get out on your own," Luna explained.

"Yeah, but- it was a natural reaction, it's not like I could have gotten out of there by myself," Neville said. "You couldn't have possibly thought I'd get out on my own!"

"I did," Luna said, looking as though Neville was the strange one. "I thought you could have done it."

"Really?" Neville asked, feeling much better. He was no longer embarrassed.

"Mmhmm. You're not a Nobody this year, are you?" Luna asked, but it wasn't a question. It was more like she was telling him he wasn't.

Neville's face went red, but before he could respond he realized that he was holding a conversation with Luna. He almost jumped into the air with excitement- he was talking with Luna, and hadn't managed to embarrass himself, minus that little slip on the stairs- but then he remembered why the conversation was important. It was forbidden. He stopped abruptly, while Luna kept walking.

"Neville?" Luna turned around when she realized Neville wasn't beside her anymore. Neville stared at her in horror.

"You- I can't- no!" Neville got out. It was torture inside.

"Okay," Luna said. Not questioning. Not teasing.

"Luna," Neville said suddenly, "I don't think that I can talk to you anymore."

"Oh?"

"I'm really, really sorry," Neville said, his face burning. "I just- no. I can't."

"Alright," Luna said pleasantly. Neville hung his head and hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. At least he had said something. At least he had gotten it out. He turned to see how Luna was taking it and was surprised to see that she was right behind him.

"Luna...?" he began uneasily. "Why are you following me?"

"Shhh," she whispered. "You're not supposed to talk to me, remember?"

"Luna!" Neville exploded. "This is not a game!"

She turned her big eyes on Neville. "I wasn't playing a game."

"Luna, this is not easy for me, but I can't speak to you! I can't be near you or with you or by you or anything! It hurts me, but it's true, and I just- I can't- Luna, I can't be friends with you anymore!" Neville shouted. He could feel something growing in him, a feeling of red. He didn't know what was provoking him to be so truthful and courageous; he could only guess that his Gryffindor skills were finally showing up.

"I'm sorry," Luna said softly.

"You don't have to be sorry," Neville said gruffly, turning away.

"No, I'm sorry that you can't be friends, or anything with me," Luna said, still following Neville. "I like being friends with you."

Neville decided he was going to explode. And soon. How could she be so understanding, and so kind, even when he was at his worst?

The silence carried on, with Luna still trailing after Neville. When Neville couldn't handle it anymore, he figured one little question wouldn't hurt.

"Luna, why are you following me? I meant what I said," Neville declared.

"I'm just going to class," Luna said innocently.

"Where are you going?"

"To Charms."

"What?" Neville yelped. "That's not right- I'm going to Charms right now!"

"Well, Professor McGonagall did say that they were combining the classes this year," Luna said, stride in stride with Neville. "So many students left, there weren't enough students left in each year to fill a whole class. So first, second, and third years are together, fourth and fifth together, and sixth and seventh together."

Neville mulled over this information. It was not good news. How could he be expected to avoid Luna if he had class with her? He hadn't expected this.

They walked to Charms together, but not really together- they just happened to be side by side, Neville reasoned with himself. And he wasn't loving her for being so calm and understanding, no, it was really a feeling of utmost dislike disguised as love. But no matter how much Neville told himself this, he knew what it really was.

When they reached Charms, Professor Flitwick divided the class into sixth and seventh years. Sixth years were to work on their spells as usual; seventh years were treated to a speech about N.E.W.T.S. and how they did, in fact, have to take them. Neville was glad he wasn't the Head Boy; otherwise, he might have had to pay attention. But seeing as they hadn't chosen a Head Boy or Head Girl this year, and Neville was free to let his attention wander as he pleased.

He had Herbology the next day, which he was looking forward to very much, and sincerely hoped Luna wouldn't be there. He loved her company, and was dying to know what she thought of the subject, but asking her about it would make him in close contact with her.

Neville wracked his brains for some sort of answer. What would Harry do? Harry had always been a sort of inspiration for Neville, a hero, almost- brave, noble Harry Potter, to whom poor, clumsy Neville Longbottom would forever look up to. He was in the exact same situation as Harry Potter and for all he knew, Voldemort could jump through the window and attempt to murder Neville, leaving Neville with only a scar... though it probably wouldn't be as dashing as a lightning bolt, it would probably have the shape of a flower... Neville pressed his hands against his eyes. Think!

Alright. Neville tried to look at the situation simply. Harry had gotten together with Ginny for a few weeks, knew she was in danger, told her so, and broke up. Neville had not yet approached Luna about his feelings, yet he had had all summer to think about his priorities, and was trying to break away from Luna completely without any explanation. Luna deserved the truth, Neville decided. She might be calm and brave about Neville not wanting to speak to her, but she deserved to know.

It would only take a few words, but to Neville it seemed a daunting task. Just act like Harry, he told himself sternly. This is totally, completely ridiculous, and is being blown out of proportion completely. This is being made into far too big a deal.

His little pep talk, and the fact that he was, after all, a Gryffindor, helped improve his mood greatly. Feeling satisfactory with his plan to tell Luna the truth and be done with it, he sat up straight and squared his shoulders.

"That's the spirit, boy!" cried Professor Flitwick happily, who had just finished his speech about going into their exams bravely and full of courage. Neville looked around and felt his self-promotion rapidly deflate. There was Luna, looking right at him. It was hopeless.

Ginny, said a small voice in Neville's head. Of course. Ginny would know what to do. Ginny would be able to tell Neville the correct course of action. Ginny would be able to help Neville forget.