A/N: Here's a new story from me, the popular Nevluna author (teehee). It was supposed to be a two-shot, but will end up as a four-shot since it's a lot longer than i orginally thought it to be. This story is actually pretty sad, and i just HAD to write it, and when i thought it through, i actually had to try hard not to cry. You guys can cry if you want, though. But it's only allowed during Chapter 4.
Disclaimer: I don't own HP
Chapter 1: The Diary
Luna sat by his bedside, holding his hand and stroking it with her thumb. A single tear trickled down her cheek. She could only wonder what went wrong.
Her mind flashed back to the day it all happened.
It was the Battle of Hogwarts, and they both had been bravely fighting. Luna had helped Harry find a Horcrux. And she had done nothing but stand aside when Voldemort had supposedly killed Harry and asked for volunteers. But Neville had stepped forward and fought for all. A true Gryffindor, he pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat. And later, he had saved the lives of Ron and Hermione and slayed Nagini, destroying the final Horcrux and allowing Harry to kill Voldemort.
He was a hero, Neville Longbottom.
He was the bravest person Luna knew.
But somehow, sometime during the Battle, Neville had managed to get a deep gash in his upper arm that Luna couldn't fix with magic. At first, Neville insisted he was fine. But then an infection spread, and soon it got so bad that Neville could barely stand, and Luna took him to St. Mungo's.
And that's where they were right now.
Neville had been in the hospital for almost a week now. Luna never left his side unless the nurse told her she had to leave. Luna didn't want to leave. Luna knew that if she wasn't there, Neville would start to lose hope. Because the nurse said Neville wasn't getting any better. In fact, he might've even gotten worse.
"Why did this have to happen, Neville? Why?" Luna said, that single tear making its way down to her nose.
"I dunno," Neville said weakly. "Some things happen for reasons we can't explain."
"I know, but why you, Neville?"
"I've always been unlucky."
But just then, the nurse came in. "I'm sorry, Miss Lovegood, it's time for you to go now."
The tear dwindling on her nose finally decided to drop. "I don't want to leave," Luna said.
"I know, dear," the nurse said. "But visiting hours are over. And Mr. Longbottom needs his rest."
Luna took a shaky breath. "Alright." She reluctantly got up, and then slowly slid her fingers out of Neville's as the nurse led her away.
Neville gave her a small smile. "Don't worry. I'll be fine." His voice cracked.
Luna nodded as more tears spilled out. The nurse led her out of the room.
Not wanting to say anything more to the nurse, she immediately apparated out of the hospital and into Neville's house. She knew she was always welcome there. Neville lived there alone these days, because his grandmother died right after the Battle. Neville had been upset, and so had Luna, and they both quickly got over it because Neville knew how to move on quickly, and because Luna had never liked Neville's grandmother much. She had never liked Luna, never since the day Neville introduced her. She always was not so nice to Luna and ridiculed her. Luna was secretly glad she was gone.
Luna wandered through the tidy little house not making a sound. Normally if she was in here, she'd just spend a few hours talking with Neville, her best friend. Some people might think they were more than that, but they were just friends.
Luna made her way up the stairs and wandered into Neville's bedroom. It was a bit neater than the average 18-year-old boy's bedroom. She knew Neville wouldn't mind, so she took the liberty of going through some of Neville's things. She enjoyed looking through things in her pastime.
As she was looking through the top shelf of his closet, she came across a small, leather-bound book. On the cover, it read Neville Longbottom in gold print. It appeared to be a diary.
Luna knew girls who had diaries, but never boys. She expected it was used just the same, though: the user's feelings poured throughout the pages. She expected the book to be very personal, and she knew she shouldn't read it. But this was her best friend. If she were deathly ill, she'd want her best friend to know all her secrets, too. So she made the decision.
She flipped open the page.
