Moonlit Courage

Chapter Six

Madam Pomfrey discharged Neville from the hospital wing just in time for supper. He dashed to the Great Hall and wolfed down some soup and cheese sandwiches, reveling in being free from the stark white of the infirmary. The weather was turning a bit cooler, nippy when the wind bit at your ears, but in general, perfect. Soon the leaves would start changing into brilliant colors, not just the dull brown they were slowly turning now. Neville had exchanged goodbyes with Ginny earlier that day, after they had talked about things other than the usual topic of mixed up feelings. She was now sitting with a friend from her own year, and Neville was happy to notice that her death glares were targeted at a few remaining Slytherins, rather than at himself. Talking had not only done her some good, but Neville as well. He was full of energy, ready to speak to Luna, ready to take on the world... to take on the moon...

He had raced back to the Gryffindor common room after supper almost as fast as he had when he discovered the letter- how long ago it seemed! Now, sitting before the roaring fire, he was at a loss for what to do. It all seemed fine enough, shoving cheese sandwiches into his mouth and racing along the corridors to do something, but now that the time was here he had no idea what he ought to be doing.

Neville sat for another few minutes before trudging up to his dormitory. Thankfully, Dean wasn't there; he had detention with Filch until eleven that night. Neville moved the clock and light off of his bedside table and spread some parchment out on it, turning the table into a desk. Then, the pacing started.

What to do? Neville walked the length of the room and turned back.

Should he just go talk to her?

Turn.

No, he couldn't be sure that his Gryffindor qualities were show up in time.

Turn.

But his father's had. Why couldn't he be as brave as his father?

Turn.

Well, his father hadn't been sure, either. He had mentioned something about doubt.

Turn.

But he wasn't like his father! As much as he wanted to be, he was a different person.

Turn.

Why couldn't Gran ever realize that?

Turn.

They were two separate people. They might have had some things in common, but he was no copy of Frank Longbottom.

Turn.

And Luna wasn't just like his mother. Things couldn't go exactly as they had when Frank proposed to her.

Turn.

He couldn't parallel his situation to his parents'. He had tried before, with many conditions in his life; tried to imagine what his father or mother would do, but he couldn't pretend any longer.

Turn.

He'd have to do this on his own.

Turn.

Couldn't Ginny-

Stop.

He wasn't going to get Ginny involved in this. She was right; Luna would know who came up with what, with that uncanny ability she had. And besides, no one could fight his battles for him. Love was a war, wasn't? Something about everything fair in it, and whatnot. Neville shook his head. This was something he had to do by himself, without Ginny's help or his parents' help-

But couldn't he have a hint?

Neville turned to his father's letter, which was lying open on the makeshift desk. Alice had never received this letter, but still- it was there. It was a tangible memory of the man his father had been, would still be if not for one woman.

She was the crazy one, the one with the sick mind. Neville could feel his face flushing just thinking about it. Whether or not Voldemort came after him, he would go after her- and now he totally, completely understood Ginny, and Harry, with every molecule of his being. He understood Harry's mentality and Ginny's feelings, and even attempted to feel as far as Luna's.

Gran had always compared him to his father, or rather, compared his inabilities to his father and mother's accomplishments. But he wasn't them. He would never be them. He was his own person with his own talents and his own ways. Nothing could change that, and nothing ever would.

But they had similarities. They had things in common, just like any child did with his or her parents. And Neville was sure that if he were having girl troubles, his father would clue him in and maybe even give him some hints.

As it was, that wasn't an option, and Neville knew he had to accept it and not long for what it could have done for him. He scanned the letter again quickly, his eyes not even reading the words, just absorbing anything he could get from the handwriting. And then, he picked up his quill and wrote in his own handwriting- not his father's, not his mother's- Dear Luna.

Neville crossed it out several times, trying to start it in a different way. He finally moved on to a new sheet of parchment and didn't write on it just yet, waiting for the words to come to him. Unlike his father, he planned on giving this letter to Luna, in case his Gryffindor qualities didn't show up in time. Even then, he wanted to give it to her, so that she could have it to hold, like he had the letter from his father. Alice probably would have liked to have had it, no matter what it said.

It wasn't until much, much later that Neville sighed with a note of finality. He rolled up the parchment and put his quill away, moving slowly. This was it. He put both his letter and his father's letter into his chest pocket before pulling his cloak on.

To his great astonishment, every step he took seemed to help increase his sense of bravery. He had thought that in his first year, standing up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione had officially proved that he was a Gryffindor, but he was wrong. He had waited seven years- seven long years- for this moment, the assured knowledge that he was brave. Not everyone could do this. He thought of Ron and Hermione, and how obvious it had been to everyone that they were totally smitten with the other, and how long it took them. He marched across the common room, glancing at Ginny where she was sitting with a few friends and dutifully ignoring Colin Creevy. She grinned at him and he returned the smile, pulling open the portrait door and climbing through the hole.

I am a Gryffindor, he reminded himself. I can do this.

Luna would be proud of him for believing in himself.

The oak doors rose before him, tall and sturdy, reminding him that if they fell, they would crush him flat. It wasn't too late to turn around. Neville glared at them and pushed them open into the night. It was a little colder than earlier that day, with a very clear sky above. The stars had been out for quite some time now, twinkling and dancing and altogether mocking Neville. He stood still for a minute on the lawn, looking at the stars in a quiet, reflective manner.

But he wasn't there for the stars.

He was there for the moon.

And there she was, knee-deep in the lake.

He moved over the lawn, the Gryffindor lion giving a frightened yowl and disappearing.

No, he pleaded with it. Please come back. I need you.

The moon, the one in the sky, was three quarters full, not quite the perfect image found in fairy tales. But not everything was perfect- there were people like Bellatrix Lestrange running around, and dark wizards and power hungry officials. Nothing was perfect, but this was about as close as you could get.

She turned before he was close enough for her to hear her footsteps, and Neville allowed himself a second to be impressed by her intuitive ways.

"Neville!" she called, in a pleasantly surprised tone. She wasn't asking a question, or calling him to her, she just said his name. He wished she would say it again.

"Hi," he said, his brain working furiously to find out where his lion had gone. There it was, crouching in a corner of his mind, growling uncertainly. He tried to coax it forward, to let it flood his whole self. He needed it.

"Hi," she replied. He strode down to the shore of the lake as she waded in, until she was up to her ankles, and the tips of his shoes were just barely getting wet.

Luna held her hand out. Neville felt his muscles tense. She wanted him to walk out in the water with her. He didn't like water. He was afraid.

He was a Gryffindor.

He grabbed her hand and took a step.

Luna beamed at him, but before he could take another step into the water, she was tugging his hand and coming onto the shore. She led Neville up to the grass where she plopped down and patted the ground next to her. Neville sat down, crossing his legs and leaning back a bit, putting his weight on his hands.

"Did you know you're my best friend?"

Neville jumped. She wasn't supposed to speak! He was supposed to give her his letter, explain his undying love for her. This was all wrong.

"No. What about... what about Ginny?"

"Well, she's very nice and everything, but you... you know me."

"Oh." Hadn't he heard this before? "Oh, oh yeah. Yeah. Ginny did tell me, well, she told me something like that. And I think, um, I think it's very nice of you to consider me like that."

There was an awkward silence, and even though that wasn't really unusual around Luna, it felt strangely odd. Was he supposed to have said something? Maybe tell her that she was his best friend, and that he wanted more?

"You're very nice to me, Neville."

"Oh! Um, well... thank you? You're- you're nice to me, too." Neville fidgeted, extremely uncomfortable. This was most definitely not how it was supposed to be going.

"But I think you worry about me."

"Well, I worry about everyone-"

"About my animals, my... creatures."

Neville frowned. He worried about her, sometimes, because of the animals- he wondered, usually, but he didn't think she was totally, inexplicably mad. He had always thought- known, almost- that there was something more to them.

"I don't know why I believe in all of them. Daddy was very passionate about his work, and only the best articles make it into his paper, you know. Mum and I used to play like the creatures were right there in front of us, but then one of her experiments went wrong and, well, she died. But the animals didn't, and Daddy didn't, and I didn't."

Neville made a strangled sort of sound, filled with compassion for the child Luna, who had lost her mother at such a young age. He reached out to touch Luna's shoulder.

"It's quite alright, actually. I know she's very happy wherever she is now; I can feel it. And one day, when I die, I'll join her. You heard them behind the veil, didn't you, Neville? You and Harry and Ginny."

It was true; he was sure he had heard something behind the veil in the Department of Mysteries, but he wasn't quite sure what. Unconsciously, he moved closer to Luna.

"So anyway, after Mum died, I'm not ashamed to say that I was terribly upset. I wasn't quite sure what to do. Daddy calmed down about his work a bit, and tried to make a better friendship with me. He showed me what he did and what he wrote about, and his creatures made me feel like Mum was still around, because of the games we used to play. Sometimes it's like it's all I have left of her."

Neville thought of all of the gum wrappers his mother had given him, and of how hard he worked in Herbology to make it his best subject, because Gran had told him that it was his father's favorite subject, despite all of his talent in his other subjects.

"But all the other kids call me Loony, and you don't. It's wonderful, Neville, it's really wonderful, but..."

And suddenly, before Neville had time to draw breath, she was leaning forward on her hands, her face merely inches from his.

"I don't think about them as much. I think about you a lot, and sometimes Ginny and Harry and Ronald and Hermione, but mostly you. You're my best friend."

Neville swallowed.

"But I still think about the creatures. I thought you should know."

Neville looked into those huge, silvery eyes of her, how they slightly protruded in a way that anyone else would have found odd, but that he found maddeningly beautiful.

He licked his very dry lips.

"I think..." he considered his position very carefully. The truth. What did he really think about her animals? "I think... some of them could be real, Luna."

Her eyes seemed to go even wider. "I knew you believed!"

"Not- Luna, I've got to be honest, not in all of them! But there's bound to be a few that are... that are really here."

"There are," she informed him. "Daddy does have some evidence for a few."

"Then I believe you," he told her firmly. "And if you ever need someone to go looking for them with you, then I'll go."

Luna threw herself down onto the grass, laying on her back and staring up at the stars. "I knew you would."

Neville watched her for a moment, then lay on his own back next to her. Their arms were a hair's width apart. He could feel goose bumps rising on his arm to close in the remaining space.

He really did believe her. It was impossible to love her and not believe. Even if only one of her hundreds of creatures existed, it was enough.

"But that's not why you came down here, is it?" Luna asked unexpectedly.

And suddenly it was if everything had started over again. The courage that Neville had been building up laughed at him and vanished, leaving his heart pounding and his palms sweating.

"No, it's not," he said slowly. "But do you think you could give me a few more minutes?"

Luna laughed and rolled right over and straight down the slight slope to the banks of the lake. Neville watched her stand up and move into the water, ankle deep, bending over and picking up a handful of seaweed.

She would give him forever if he asked for it. She was giving him time alone to think, to gather his bravery, and he was thankful for it.

But it was time to return the favor. He would go to her right now and wing it, and since she was so good at doing that, then why not him? Without stopping to think, he stood up and walked right into the water to stand by Luna. She stopped splashing around and they stood shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the sky.

Neville opened his mouth cautiously, then closed it again. He would never be able to find another moment like this. It was now or never.

It better be now, he told himself.