The Last Dance

Couples danced under a handsome blue-black sky with a few glittering stars. It was a rather warm night, and the air was fragranced with the scent of honeysuckle and jasmine. Whether the grounds were bewitched to smell like this, or if it was just the beauty of the season Neville did not know nor care. This was his last day, and it was just settling in that he was going to leave Hogwarts forever, and there was no turning back. This must have been how Harry, Ron, and Hermione felt before they left, he thought to himself.

Rumors broke out about how the trio left to fight off Voldemort the very first day of school when Hogwarts' three heroes didn't arrive. Neville felt rather ashamed that he hadn't done the same. After all, he had always wanted to get his revenge on Voldemort, and here he was being the perfect little schoolboy his grandmother wished him to be. So much for being the hero, he thought bitterly.

Aside from his shame, his year had been a complete and absolute disaster. The new teacher who was Snape's replacement made his predecessor seem like a saint. Professor Bogworth had Snape's cold-hearted behavior, but lacked the maturity the old potions master possessed. He, unlike Snape, openly laughed and pointed at Neville whenever the poor student would make the slightest mistake. "Longbottom," he would say in his wheezy voice, "your parents would be humiliated. You're lucky they're so crazy that they don't remember you." Not even the cruel Pansy Parkinson laughed at Neville then, both before and after he broke down into tears. She had actually seemed a bit sorry for him. In fact, all the Slytherins seemed a bit sorry for him, making all matters worse.

"Neville?" He turned around to see the pretty redheaded girl who seemed to be the only one had it worse than Neville. She was often found roaming the hallways alone, as if waiting for someone she lost a long time ago. She had fallen a long way, from being the life of the party to a depressed empty shell.

"Yes?"

"Could you move a bit? I think Brian is calling me." How could it be possible, he thought to himself as he moved out the way so she could dance with the tall attractive brunette, to have a worse year than the girl whose boyfriend and brother went off to fight He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Neville sighed and moved to a group of pimply boys with inch-thick glasses.

"Hey, Neville," one red-faced boy greeted him. "Couldn't get a date?" Neville shook his head. "Well, most of the girls here aren't that much to look at, anyway," he said as if this would lighten Neville's mood.

"They're alright," he said. He watched the other students dance. Some he could see were so in love that they could barely tell that there was anyone else in the world. Oh, how he envied those people. He felt like he was standing outside a glass cage looking in, but never truly understanding the lovers inside. He clenched his fists and looked away. Even Hagrid's fallen in love.

"Haven't got someone to dance with, Longbottom?" a familiar arrogant wheezy voice asked. Neville groaned as he looked up to see a tall thin man with slick blonde hair that possessed a few streaks of grey. Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse...

"Hello, Professor Bogworth," he said miserably.

"Isn't it a pity that you can't share such a lovely night with someone you care for?" He laughed out loud. "You must feel terrible."

"And you're definitely making me feel so much better," Neville snapped. What am I doing? he screamed inwardly. Are you insane, Neville? Treating adults like children? Professor Bogworth seemed even more stunned at Neville's reaction than Neville did. With that, he turned on his heels and walked in the opposite direction as the teacher stared at the boy, his jaw set tight with anger and shock.

"Neville?" someone called his name. He spun around.

"Yeah?" he said wearily. Luna Lovegood stood before him. She wore a red-and-purple dress which she had clearly made herself. The thread that held it together was bright pink, and the collar was lopsided. As if to make up for this, she tied an olive green sash around her hips. Her straggly blonde hair that was usually found hanging at her waist was tied up into a sloppy bun, save for a few locks that had escaped and fell over her left eye and a portion of her nose.

He observed Luna with interest as her body seemed to easily glide and flow with the beat of the music, her strange dress rippling along with her every motion. She looked truly happy; her face was set in a winning smile and her wide blue eyes glowed with delight. Wow, she's beautiful, he thought to himself, and suddenly felt himself flush.

"Hullo!" she said cheerfully, ignoring his pink face. Neville sighed, realizing that beauty was only skin deep, and on the inside, she wasn't exactly as lovely as she looked. He was not speaking to a composed, attractive young woman; he was speaking with a crazy - yet surprisingly stunning - girl.

"Hello, Luna. You look nice," he said truthfully.

"You don't sound happy," she observed, then leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Neville gawked at her, his face a deep crimson. Luna, on the other hand did not seem nearly as embarrassed as Neville. In fact, she smiled as if she had done nothing but shake his hand. "You looked like you needed that," she said in her usual dreamy voice.

Though he tried to suppress it, the babbling he did at awkward moments fought its way through his throat and out of his mouth. "Oh, well, er, you see, I was, um, sure." Luna watched him struggle with his speech, a small smile playing upon her lips. "Uh, would you, uh, sometime after dance, er, the, uh, mmph!" Neville suddenly felt Luna's lips press against his own. Whether she did it because she wanted to, or to simply shut him up, he didn't know, but when they parted Neville noticed she looked a bit pink too. He finally found his voice. "Did I need that too?" Luna smiled slightly.

"Only a little bit, but I did that one mostly for me," she said, her grin widening. Neville laughed awkwardly. "But that silly smile on your face makes me think that you needed it more than I thought." Neville didn't even notice that he was smiling until she pointed it out. To his great dismay, the babbling began immediately.

"Yeah, so, er, did you really, er, I just wanted to know, um, if--"

"Do you wanna dance?" Waltz music was playing pleasantly in the backround, and the students twirled as if in a choreographed ballet. Neville didn't want to ruin the lovely dance so he simply smiled and said,

"I don't know how to waltz. Sorry."

"Well, that makes two of us," Luna said, and pulled him onto the dance floor before a single protest could escape his mouth.