Something Strange

She had been gone for weeks.

And he still hadn't written her.

Dearest Luna, he wrote, but the quill was scratchy, and the wording seemed- wrong. Couldn't he do any better? Dearest Luna- Merlin's beard- who called their friend that? It was too- well, personal.

He crumpled the parchment and threw it onto the overflowing wastebasket. Why couldn't he think of anything to write? Luna was his best friend, wasn't she?

And more, a voice whispered in his head. Neville angrily batted it away. Luna was just a friend, he knew that, and she felt the same way about him. It was purely platonic. And as such, it was wrong to write letters in which he called her "dearest".

But he needed to write Luna a letter- he missed her sorely, and the last note she had sent him carried an almost accusatory air about it. She wrote to him, but he had barely communicated with her. And it hurt.

But what to say?

There was something about this trip away- something- that was entirely different. It wasn't that Luna was off hunting strange and unusual creatures- he was used to that. No, it was more to do with the fact that Luna was simply away.

But why? She had gone away before. She had been gone for months last time. Then she'd come traipsing to his door with a dandelion chain and they'd gone to Diagon Alley for ice cream at the new Fortescue parlour, and everything had been so natural.

But this time-

Maybe it had been the going away party. There had definitely been something different about that going away party.

"I'm going to Iceland, Neville," said Luna, in that slightly dreamy way of hers.

Along with the other twenty people at the party, Neville knew that. "I hope you have a good time," he said instead, rather awkwardly. "And- er- tell me if you see any- Cactypuls."

The moment he said it, he could have kicked himself in the shins. Iceland was the only country the Orange Cactypuls weren't found in- hadn't Luna told him that herself, just two weeks ago?

But Luna only nodded, staring into the distance. Her eyes were misty and far-off, and her hair was blowing gently in the wind.

Neville felt something twinge in his heart, and felt immensely embarrassed.

"…Luna?" he asked, instead.

Luna turned, then- Neville had never really noticed the depth of colour in her eyes- and gave a small smile. "I'm going to miss you," she said, matter-of-factly, and then she did something she'd never done before, and kissed him on the cheek. Then, without another word, she walked off, across the hill, and Apparated. She didn't look back.

That wasn't something Luna did. She didn't walk away from parties, not ever. She hadn't even walked away from her first party, when that certain famous partner of hers abandoned her halfway through the night. And then- the kiss- Neville didn't know what to make of it.

With a groan, he flopped himself into his chair.

Luna wouldn't be back for another week.

And it was nearly July, and he still hadn't written to her.

A/N: Wow, it's been ages since I updated here! I just want to say a HUGE thanks to my wonderful beta, Almyra, who's been a great friend and 'mentor', and also to fledge, whose constant encouragement has finally propelled me to upload this fic. And thank you also to JKR, for writing the wonderful Harry Potter series, even if you later released statements about how Luna would marry some 'Rolf Scamander'. In doing so, you actually gave me the premise for this fic, so I believe that I am indebted to you there, too.