Note: This is part of a series of little bursts of Neville and Luna goodness (NLG), and all my NLG is backstory for the epic 'Supposed Happiness' by MoonCroww. If you want to fully understand the whole situation and future events … toddle over and check it out. Thanks. ~Lady Roxyeth, Dragonsbane
Mooncalves And Tears
Mon.16.Feb.2004
***
"Thanks for staying," Ron said, shaking his hand with a faint smile.
"Of course, not at all," Neville told his friend absently, looking around the hall, searching but not finding her.
"It was lovely, wasn't it?"
"Oh, yes, very. Have you seen Luna?"
"What? No, er, she was with Hermione earlier."
Neville spied Hermione attempting to scourgify a stained tablecloth and went to her.
"Hermione?"
"Oh, Neville, I didn't know you were still here. Thank you for all your help. I think Ron and I can handle it from here."
"Where's Luna?" he inquired.
"I haven't seen her for awhile. I thought you both had left. I do hope she's alright. Would you like me to help you find her?"
Neville shook his head and forced a small smile.
"Probably just had a little too much wine. I'm sure she's fine. Thanks, though," he told her, over his shoulder as he started for the way out.
"Goodnight, Neville. You'll owl me if something's wrong, won't you?"
"Sure, Mione. Goodnight."
Leaving the hall, he stepped out into the autumn air. He looked around and frowned, realizing he had no idea where she'd gone. Then he heard her voice carried on the gentle breeze and went to find her.
She was silhouetted in the moonlight, sitting with her knees up to her chin and looking out over the countryside. Neville walked to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Luna?"
"They say, that if you see a mooncalf dance, good luck will follow you all the days of your life."
He sat down beside her and followed her gaze.
"On the full moon, when I was small, I would watch the fields for hours and hours."
"Did you ever see one?" he inquired, looking at her.
Luna turned to him, her eyes brimming with tears. Neville was taken aback for a moment, having never seen her cry before. He put an arm around her shoulders and she buried her face in his chest. Encircling her in his arms, he held her close as her shoulders shook with her sobs.
He kissed her blonde curls and let her cry for a moment without speaking. During the ceremony, she'd seemed fine; standing next to Ginny and smiling as the vows were exchanged. Her smile had been genuine enough, as had his own, even though the only people that either had truly loved were giving themselves to each other forever. Neville thought he would be the one to breakdown first, later, when he tried to sleep, and he definitely did not expect this.
As she continued to weep, his resolve crumbled. A few tears of his own escaped, but he stopped himself, feeling that he needed to be strong for her sake.
"I've seen a mooncalf," he told her quietly. Slowly, her shoulders became still and her bloodshot blue eyes met his glassy hazel ones.
"You have?" she managed. Even through the tearstains and red, swollen eyes, she was beautiful and the sight of her steeled him enough to continue.
"She's brought me good luck so far," Neville whispered, never looking away from her.
"Oh, Neville," Luna gasped, looking as though she might return to her tears. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on his chest again.
"It's alright to cry, sweetheart," he comforted softly, but she just shook her head and wrapped her arms around his middle.
"No, it's not. He was never mine to begin with."
"I'm sorry," Neville apologized, his voice barely above a whisper.
Again, she shook her head and looked up at him.
"No, Neville, don't be sorry," Luna admonished simply. "You have nothing to apologize for. Thank you."
He studied her face for a moment and asked, "Do you want to go home?"
"I'd like that," she consented and he helped her to her feet. Turning away, he smiled at her as they disapparated to his apartment. Neither saw the silvery figures dancing in the fields below them, stamping out geometric diagrams in the wheat.
* * *
Despite her sentiments to not cry anymore, as Luna walked down the hallway to Neville's room, the tears came again. It was harder to keep his own feelings bottled up this time, but he did just that as he laid her down and held her until she had cried herself to sleep, whispering consolations in her ear and wishing he could take away her pain. Losing all hope he had for Ginny was hard enough, but Luna's sadness broke his heart.
Once he was sure she'd drifted off, he released her and rolled away from her. Pressing a fist to his mouth, his body shuddered with the rush of silent sobs that followed.
'Damn Harry,' he thought, bitterly. 'Damn Ginny. Damn them all and their happiness.' Neville knew he didn't mean a word of it and his remorse only made the tears flow more freely.
A soft hand found his arm and a strangled cry escaped him.
"Don't cry," she pleaded softly and he gasped, trying to control himself. "I'm so sorry, Neville, but don't cry. It … it hurts me."
And, never fully understanding why, he stopped and moved to hold her as they both fell asleep.
©2004 – Roxanne L. Martin, Writings From Behind The Red Door
Mooncalves And Tears
Mon.16.Feb.2004
***
"Thanks for staying," Ron said, shaking his hand with a faint smile.
"Of course, not at all," Neville told his friend absently, looking around the hall, searching but not finding her.
"It was lovely, wasn't it?"
"Oh, yes, very. Have you seen Luna?"
"What? No, er, she was with Hermione earlier."
Neville spied Hermione attempting to scourgify a stained tablecloth and went to her.
"Hermione?"
"Oh, Neville, I didn't know you were still here. Thank you for all your help. I think Ron and I can handle it from here."
"Where's Luna?" he inquired.
"I haven't seen her for awhile. I thought you both had left. I do hope she's alright. Would you like me to help you find her?"
Neville shook his head and forced a small smile.
"Probably just had a little too much wine. I'm sure she's fine. Thanks, though," he told her, over his shoulder as he started for the way out.
"Goodnight, Neville. You'll owl me if something's wrong, won't you?"
"Sure, Mione. Goodnight."
Leaving the hall, he stepped out into the autumn air. He looked around and frowned, realizing he had no idea where she'd gone. Then he heard her voice carried on the gentle breeze and went to find her.
She was silhouetted in the moonlight, sitting with her knees up to her chin and looking out over the countryside. Neville walked to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Luna?"
"They say, that if you see a mooncalf dance, good luck will follow you all the days of your life."
He sat down beside her and followed her gaze.
"On the full moon, when I was small, I would watch the fields for hours and hours."
"Did you ever see one?" he inquired, looking at her.
Luna turned to him, her eyes brimming with tears. Neville was taken aback for a moment, having never seen her cry before. He put an arm around her shoulders and she buried her face in his chest. Encircling her in his arms, he held her close as her shoulders shook with her sobs.
He kissed her blonde curls and let her cry for a moment without speaking. During the ceremony, she'd seemed fine; standing next to Ginny and smiling as the vows were exchanged. Her smile had been genuine enough, as had his own, even though the only people that either had truly loved were giving themselves to each other forever. Neville thought he would be the one to breakdown first, later, when he tried to sleep, and he definitely did not expect this.
As she continued to weep, his resolve crumbled. A few tears of his own escaped, but he stopped himself, feeling that he needed to be strong for her sake.
"I've seen a mooncalf," he told her quietly. Slowly, her shoulders became still and her bloodshot blue eyes met his glassy hazel ones.
"You have?" she managed. Even through the tearstains and red, swollen eyes, she was beautiful and the sight of her steeled him enough to continue.
"She's brought me good luck so far," Neville whispered, never looking away from her.
"Oh, Neville," Luna gasped, looking as though she might return to her tears. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on his chest again.
"It's alright to cry, sweetheart," he comforted softly, but she just shook her head and wrapped her arms around his middle.
"No, it's not. He was never mine to begin with."
"I'm sorry," Neville apologized, his voice barely above a whisper.
Again, she shook her head and looked up at him.
"No, Neville, don't be sorry," Luna admonished simply. "You have nothing to apologize for. Thank you."
He studied her face for a moment and asked, "Do you want to go home?"
"I'd like that," she consented and he helped her to her feet. Turning away, he smiled at her as they disapparated to his apartment. Neither saw the silvery figures dancing in the fields below them, stamping out geometric diagrams in the wheat.
* * *
Despite her sentiments to not cry anymore, as Luna walked down the hallway to Neville's room, the tears came again. It was harder to keep his own feelings bottled up this time, but he did just that as he laid her down and held her until she had cried herself to sleep, whispering consolations in her ear and wishing he could take away her pain. Losing all hope he had for Ginny was hard enough, but Luna's sadness broke his heart.
Once he was sure she'd drifted off, he released her and rolled away from her. Pressing a fist to his mouth, his body shuddered with the rush of silent sobs that followed.
'Damn Harry,' he thought, bitterly. 'Damn Ginny. Damn them all and their happiness.' Neville knew he didn't mean a word of it and his remorse only made the tears flow more freely.
A soft hand found his arm and a strangled cry escaped him.
"Don't cry," she pleaded softly and he gasped, trying to control himself. "I'm so sorry, Neville, but don't cry. It … it hurts me."
And, never fully understanding why, he stopped and moved to hold her as they both fell asleep.
©2004 – Roxanne L. Martin, Writings From Behind The Red Door