Moonlit Courage

Chapter Five

Neville let out a little involuntarily gasp, then looked up quickly. Nobody was paying attention to him; even Ginny was carefully repotting a Fatal Fireflower that Professor Sprout had expertly uprooted.

"Professor!" Neville called shakily, shoving the letter into his bag. Professor Sprout turned to look at him. "Professor, I really think- I think I ought to go to the hospital dormitory, or wing, or my- I need to go lie down, the burn-"

"Yes, right away, Neville," said Professor Sprout, taking the quaver in his voice and his confusing statements as some sort of pain due to the burn. "Madam Pomfrey will take good care of you-"

But Neville was already out of the greenhouse, moving over the grounds, fleeing towards his dormitory. Once there, he flung himself onto his bed and drew the hangings around him, surrounding himself with the thick, silencing velvet. He didn't even dare to touch the letter, lest his shaking fingers rip it. He waited until his heart rate calmed down a bit, then slowly pulled the paper out and unfolded it again.

Dear Alice,

You will never get this letter, for I intend to speak aloud all of the things I write. But have you ever noticed it's much easier to see things solidly on the paper, there, in ink, than intangible words in the air? I can say what I want so much more eloquently in a letter, but when I'm near you I fumble for words and wish I could press my blathering lips against yours. Oh, how soppy this letter is turning out to be. Don't worry, I'll be much better when saying it out loud. Because tonight is the night I have been waiting for for years. It's our last day of our seventh year, and I feel that with the war going on, I may never have another chance to say it. Tonight, I will ask you to marry me.

We both know that my mother finds you wonderfully acceptable, and it doesn't hurt that you have a pureblood background. But that doesn't even begin the list of all the things I find wonderful, loveable, about you. On a separate sheet of paper I plan to make a list to read to you tonight. We will be by the lake with the full moon above us, despite those werewolf rumors, for you are a Gryffindor. And tonight, maybe I'll have my chance to prove I'm a Gryffindor as well. This will take all of courage I can possibly summon up, but I will do it for you. We both have plans to become Aurors, but nothing will be harder than voicing this question, for there is always that inevitable doubt. I know we have talked about it, oh, the discussions we've had! We even went so far as to think of baby names; I recall you liking 'Neville' and 'Cecile' the best; it was a very specific conversation, and though we touched the subject of marriage many times, I never thought to ask you. I wanted it planned. I wanted it big. I wanted you to have so much more than I could give you.

So tonight's the night. James Potter is asking Lily Evans; so why can't I ask you? You're the love of my life and you just make me want to... to do everything! And now I must stop waxing lyrics and get up and do the real thing. Your ring is very simple and I know you won't mind; but one day, after the war is over, I will get you the best and brightest ring I can. I would capture the moon for you, but you would still outshine it. And now it's time. Can you tell how shaky my handwriting is? Of course not; you won't read this. And because I can't even begin to think of a better, more sophisticated ending, I shall end the letter quite simply.

Love,

Frank

Neville read the letter again, and again, once slowly, once an attempt from his mother's point of view, once from his father's.

He was unsure as to what to do. Was this a sign? Did he believe in signs? Had he taken this thing with Luna too far? He knew she wasn't like Ginny; but Ginny wasn't like Luna, either. Oddly, it made perfect sense when he didn't think about it too hard, like when things can be seen without focusing on them. It was giving him an awful headache at any rate; that and the burns that would leave a scar if he didn't get to Madam Pomfrey soon. He sat still for a moment before heaving a sigh and carefully folding the letters in quarters, so that it would fit in his inner pocket. Another moment passed before he stood up and dragged his feet to the hospital wing. He wasn't sure if the letter excited him or resigned him even more to the fact that he was nothing.

And that's why he loved Luna- she made him feel perfectly sure that he was something. Ginny had said, in his fifth year, that he was a "Somebody," but Luna didn't even have to say it to make him feel it. She understood him and he understood her back, and yet he didn't- it was one of those "don't focus" things again.

Madam Pomfrey was a definite help; the potion she gave him cleared up his headache. Pursing her lips, she informed him that he was "the second most frequent visitor to the hospital wing, after Potter."

There was an awkward silence as both contemplated what Harry could be doing right then, before Madam Pomfrey suggested he catch up on some homework, as she would be keeping him in the hospital wing until the evening. He didn't have homework, having finished it all last night, but he obediently pulled out some blank parchment and moved his quill around restlessly. When he could bear it no longer and was sure that Madam Pomfrey's office door was firmly closed, he dived into his bag for the letter.

His father had written this. His father, the one who couldn't remember his own name, couldn't remember why he loved the woman in the bed that was next to his. Neville opened his Herbology book, seeing the familiar letters spelling out FRANK LONGBOTTOM. Of course the letter would be in this book; it had been his father's. Neville fidgeted a little, absentmindedly playing with some of the tears on the cover, before putting it away and falling asleep, despite the fact that it was nearing midday.

When he woke up, he found Ginny sitting at his bedside. "What are you doing here?" he asked groggily.

"Everyone needs a visitor," she replied simply. Neville moved his sheets around and tried to look like he wasn't bored out of his mind. Ginny wasn't saying anything and he was getting uncomfortable.

"So," he said, casting around for a subject. "How was Herbology?"

"Fine."

"Got any homework?"

"No, she let us off for today."

"Oh."

"Yep."

"You want to talk about Luna, don't you?" Neville sighed resignedly.

"No," Ginny said, leaning forward. "I want to talk about what your plans with Luna are."

"Ah." Neville leaned back. "Same thing."

"Neville, I want you to understand that I do not want Luna hurt. It's like- like when you're deprived of something as a child, you make sure that when you're grown up, your children or whoever get what you didn't have."

Neville thought of the parental figures missing in his life, painfully aware of what Ginny was saying. He would make sure he was the best father in the world if it killed him, then flinched, wondering if his father had had the same thoughts.

"I was just- going- just-" Neville shrugged and left it as it was. "Do you have any ideas for me?"

"Yes, plenty, but Neville- she'll know it was me. She'll know if it's you. You have to come up with it on your own."

"So... you came to talk to me, but you won't tell me anything?" Neville asked, puzzled.

"Well, I thought I should tell you that Luna goes out to the lake every so often. Just, you know, to go. There's no pattern or anything in the times that she goes, but she does go there, and I think... well, that's it."

Ginny got up and smoothed her robes down. "You don't know how much I want to see her happy, Neville, and I want to see you happy, too. If I can't- if I can't be with, you know, be happy by Harry's side while he's away, then- someone needs to be happy. Do you remember what Professor McGonagall said at the end of last year, when we were all in the hospital wing?"

"No, I was knocked out that whole time," Neville said, somewhat bitterly.

"Well, she said something about Dumbledore, and how he would have been so happy that there was more love in the world... especially during these times," Ginny said softly. "I just... I miss him so much!"

Neville waited quietly. Ginny bit her lip and sat back down. "Harry, I mean. I miss Dumbledore as well, but... Neville, you don't know how happy I was. And he was happy, too! I was so angry when he told me he was going, but I knew he had to... I didn't know what to do. So- so I locked myself in my room after yelling at him and at Mum a bit, and I only came out when he had to go- and we weren't "seeing" each other then, see, but I kissed him so hard- he would barely look at me at all during my brother's wedding, he danced with Gabrielle Delacour a lot, but- oh, Neville, when he left, I just- I wanted to make sure that he knew I wouldn't just sit around waiting for him. I wanted to let him know that I was coming and he didn't need to protect me, so I kissed him as hard as I could and the second he started to return the kiss I broke off. Neville, I could kick myself- I'm so miserable right now because- it wasn't just him. It was me, too. Right when he- when he told me, that we couldn't be together, I was ready. I knew he would say it and I thought, I can handle this. But over the summer I felt so bad, and at the wedding we shouted a bit, too, near the end, and I just told you what I did right before he left- he tried to sneak out, but I was ready for him, and Ron and Hermione, too. And, well, Ron and Hermione finally admitted to each other that they're pathetically in love with each other, so I don't see why- I mean, they're fine, they're not putting everything on hold- oh, Neville!"

And Ginny burst into tears. Neville froze awkwardly, a hand stretched out to pat her shoulder, then turned the gesture into a grab for tissues. She took one thankfully and wiped her eyes.

"I'm so angry with myself- if I hadn't yelled- if I hadn't kissed him right before- things could have been better! Do you see, Neville? That's why I want you to be happy and together with Luna! Do you see?"

Neville didn't answer right away, but took his time and tried, very hard, to see things as Ginny was asking.

"Yes," he said finally. And it was true- he did see, and he understood, and didn't blame Ginny one bit. And he knew, without really knowing, that Luna would be at the lake that night, and that this was the time to go speak with her.