She slides into the bench beside him, her nimble body fitting close to his. She smiles into space, her fingers drumming the wooden seat beneath them, and he mimics the expression, now holding the Sword of Gryffindor loosely in his grip, almost forgetting its presence. She jerks her head slightly and her eyes meet his; he swallows his heart which now beats rapidly somewhere in his throat and tries his best at a laugh, to break the tension or awkwardness between them, though he knows he wants more to pull her closer to him and press his lips to hers. He feels colour rush to his cheeks and he averts his gaze, almost begrudgingly.
"You were very brave today, Neville," she says brightly, and her silvery voice makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge.
He licks his dry lips, staring confounded at her, his eyes soaking up everything in front of him: her tangled mess of curly blonde hair, her slight figure, her blood-stained and torn clothing, her pale skin and scratched cheeks. And yet never has he felt so in love. In love with her. In love with Luna Lovegood. And it feels so good to have admitted it to himself; to have admitted it to her only a few hours ago.
"Thanks," he mumbles shyly.
Her smile grows wider; more sincere. "I expected this; the Snorgleworms told me. A few years ago, still..."
"Luna?" Neville interrupts, smirking.
"Yes?"
"What on earth is a Snorgleworm?"
She laughs at this, the sound ringing across the hall and greeting them with a few odd looks. And Neville joins in, too, supposing that, maybe, she finds it so humorous given the certain circumstances. In a room surrounded by rubble and blood and death, how is it they find something like Luna's eccentricities so funny? But he chortles nonetheless, and she slides even closer to him, and he realises this only when he can feel the warmth of her body against his.
"Luna?" he says again, his voice shaken.
"Yes?"
"I -" he starts, feeling his cheeks turn red. He clears his throat, looking down. "W-What else do the Snuglewarms say about me?"
Luna chuckles quietly. "Snorgleworms," she corrects him. "They say you're very brave, Neville. Very handsome and sweet, too. A true Gryffindor, really."
He can feel himself edging forward, leaning his body toward hers, but he has no control over his limbs now; his instincts have taken over, and the only thing he's aware of now is how badly he wants to know the feeling of her lips brushing against his, of her slender figure craddled in his arms, of her long curls laced with his fingers. His forehead touches hers gently, and the heat flooding through his body is unlike that of anything he's ever felt before. He can smell her breath in the air - something sweet, like fruits, entwined with mint. And he's so close to feeling her lips on his, so close that he can almost feel it, when CLANG!
Heads instinctively twist in their direction, and Neville leaps away from Luna's body in fear of attack at any moment. His heart beats hard against his ribs, rattling like a confined bird. The Sword of Gryffindor lays on the floor at his feet, its blade still ringing, and he realises with a wave of embarrassment that he dropped the sword in all of his excitement, and he's so close to punching himself, or picking up the sword and throwing it across the room, or doing something to release this irritance, when he feels something warm touch his hand and make him turn.
And that's when she leaps at him, her lips crashing over his, and he wraps his arms around her, clutching her tightly so that she doesn't slip away from him. So that she can never slip away from him. And he knows that he'll never forget the inexplicable warmth shooting through him; coursing through his veins like blood. He knows that he'll never forget her, so beautiful and smart, and so elegant and refined and everything he's ever wanted and so much more.
When she pulls away, he keeps his hands laced around her, and he lets himself take a moment to think. To embrace the fact that took him so long to come to terms with.
He was in love with Luna Lovegood.
And she might just love him back.
