For the Cross House Dating Challenge by Head-in-Disarray over on the HPFC. Hopefully you guys will like it. It's set just a little while after the Battle of Hogwarts, with a bit of reflection, so here goes, enjoy!

The war was over, Harry had triumphed over You-Know-Who, and everything was right in the world. Almost. Neville Longbottom was suffering, struggling over what had transpired, the death, the loss, the utter sacrificial murder that had occurred at the hands of Death Eaters, at the hands of his friends.

He knew it had been coming, the war that is, who didn't? It had been obvious for years, ever since he first war, the rise of You-Know-Who, his parents; tortured, cursed, left as a shadow of their past selves as drooling idiots within an inch of life in St. Mungos. He didn't know if he could take it, he'd been brave, before. Now, all he had left was the despair that came hand in hand with loss, with sacrifice and suffering. That came with having had to fight, to curse, to kill.

Through the pain however, there was always some sort of light, always. Neville didn't believe in wallowing, and though for the time being he had forgotten that, he was sure to come back to it eventually. He'd always been the happy-go-lucky type, more suited for Hufflepuff than Gryffindor, but the inkling of courage that shone through had won and died in the last few months. Won in that he'd fought, he'd stood up and said no, protected people, pushed people, yelled and screamed and cursed at people. His courage had died in that he hated that he'd willed people into acting, into fighting, into dying. No, he didn't want to be that person; he didn't want people to die for him. For what he'd said, or did, or wanted.

Neville had watched as people were taken away in class, watched as they returned, bloodied and bruised with nothing more to say than "the Carrows" which of course, everyone understood. He'd watched as people were taken away, and didn't return. Among them were people he held in great regard, people he cared for, people like Luna, Luna Lovegood who would never hurt a fly, or a Crumpled-Horned Snorkack, was taken, ripped away from the school for something out of her control. He didn't like it, he couldn't have stopped it, he could only stop it happening to him. And he did.

Hiding in the Room of Requirement was lonely, often he had wished for Harry or Ron, even Hermione to be back at Hogwarts, and school was normal, and Luna was around. It was only ever after she was gone that he really noticed her. Luna, that was, he noticed her absence more than her presence and it affected him in more ways than he'd ever imagined. It had hurt him to think of her, physically hurt him to wonder if and when he'd see her again, if she was even alive.

Neville had spent many nights musing that even the moon seemed dimmer without her, and he came to a realisation that there would be nothing short of utter despair on his part should he never see her again.

And then, he was elated, she was alive and fighting, and ready to fight more and he'd not yet realised the implications of people fighting. Of the losses they'd suffer and the loss he might once again endure.

The Gryffindor didn't speak of his feelings towards the Ravenclaw, it wouldn't have been the right time, then and there in the Room of Requirement. It was much later, perhaps a month, that she tracked him down, sought him out from his wallow of self pity and anguish. She'd strode across the room nudging empty bottles of fire whiskey away with her brightly coloured shoes (on which he was sure there were radishes). He'd looked up, hair long and face dirty, embarrassed at his state, and shocked at her entrance, and of course at her very odd dress, with little a little version of the solar system orbiting around her body.

"Look at the state of you Neville, a Crumple-Horned Snorkack couldn't make this much mess!" She said sternly, perhaps in the sternest voice he'd heard from her. And he laughed. The soft, scratching tone of his laugh suggesting damage had been done to his throat by the whiskey to which the empty bottles were evidence.

"What are you doing here Luna?"

"Checking on you of course! You've had me mighty worried Neville, hiding away like this, surely you've got better things to do than sit here, like take me out perhaps, a date and all that? We both need a bit more happy in our lives after the unfortunate circumstances at Hogwarts."

Listening to her speak Neville had been lost in his thoughts, lost in considering how sweet, and caring and simply lovely she was, he'd nearly missed it.

"A date? You want to, go on a date, with me?" He'd been shocked, because to him, nothing he'd done during the war seemed to be any good, none of it seems to have provided a benefit, in his eyes at least. All he'd brought was death and more destruction that was necessary. He had wanted to fight and despite what everyone had said, he refused to believe that it had been for a good reason. No, he was bad, not good, he was not like Harry, who'd walked off and gotten himself killed, and come back and been all glorious in his defeat of You-Know-Who, no he'd sent people off to die, relied on others, and wanted to bring more people to the fight. He was bad, he was evil, and he was the reason that Colin and Fred and Tonks and Lupin and countless others were dead. It was all him.

But here she was, the girl he'd missed so desperately, the girl he'd fallen for in her absence the girl he wanted nothing more from than to date, and she wanted him to date her, she said it herself, but he didn't know if he could, if he should, if he could ruin her the way he'd ruined himself.

"Would I ask otherwise? Perhaps I would, but nonetheless, a date would be lovely" her voice radiated light, moonlight, not sunlight as her dress attempted to suggest. No she was definitely like her namesake, a bit odd for shining in the night, but right, nonetheless. He didn't think he should, but he wanted to. And perhaps that was all he needed, a little bit of want, not desperation, not need, want. For Neville had needed to act the leader at Hogwarts, he needed to send people out to fight, but he didn't need Luna Lovegood.

Neville glanced at the window, caught sight of the moonlight shining in bright as ever and he smiled, nodding, "Then a date it is."