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
Lovegood-Longbottom
Mon.19.Jan.2004
***
The entryway was dark when he opened the door for her. She looked at him oddly when he stood aside, waiting for her to pass.
He motioned for her to go inside.
She continued to look at him.
He frowned, looking into the apartment and then back to her.
Still, she looked at him, smiling a little.
He thought for a moment, then gasped.
She grinned.
Awkwardly, he went to pick her up and she looped her arms around his neck, still smiling as he carried her into his flat.
'Our flat,' he reminded himself.
"One moment," he mumbled, setting her down. She quirked an eyebrow. With a wave of his hand the front room was illuminated. He picked her up a little more confidently this time and delivered her to the couch.
'Oh, two meters, thank you,' she thought, not expecting to be let down so soon, and definitely not at the sofa.
"I don't know if I could have made it on my own," Luna told him when he sat down beside her, a hint of disappointment in her voice. Neville heard this and shrugged inwardly, praying the apprehension would pass.
"You know, I would … well, understand if you … you know … well …"
She watched him closely, amused, but not letting on.
"If you didn't, see, want to … well."
She smiled again and he stopped talking.
"Are you thirsty? Let me get you a drink," he said, standing up and rushing into the kitchen. Once hidden from view, he leaned on the countertop and took a few deep breaths.
'Damn nerves,' he thought to himself. He shook his head and busied himself with finding drinks. He perused his options; butterbeer, half a bottle of wine that was at one-time Harry's, a jug of pumpkin juice, milk, and, the old-standby: water. Pulling two wine glasses from the cabinet, he started for the front room again, desperately wishing he was still in possession of the firewhiskey they'd had at Harry's bachelor party. Neville remembered the bachelor party – some muggle thing Ron insisted on having – and couldn't honestly say he was upset he didn't get one.
"Wine alright?" he asked, returning to the couch and offering her a glass.
"Lovely," was all she said, and his stomach lurched. His anxiety was apparent and she continued to smile at him in hopes of calming him. He set his glass down without taking even a sip and sat on the edge of his seat, absently spinning the gold band on his newly adorned finger.
"So."
"Do you think I should just be Longbottom, or Lovegood-Longbottom?" she asked suddenly, setting her drink down, and narrowing her eyes at him.
Neville choked and spluttered a little bit and had to regain his composure before speaking.
"Well, that's up to you," he finally managed.
"I want your honest opinion. Would you rather it was just plain old Longbottom, or Lovegood-Longbottom?"
He deflated a little on the inside. 'Plain old Longbottom?'
"I like plain old Longbottom, but if you want to keep the Lovegood…"
"I like Longbottom by itself, too," she interrupted. "I'm no longer a Lovegood. I'm your wife."
He smiled a little at this.
"Speaking of that," he began, clearing his throat and leaning forward, elbows on his knees, trying to get up the courage to finish his sentence this time. "I know it's expected for the … well, you and I … erm, us … to … uh, well … you see …" He sighed. Apparently, his sentence was never to have an end.
Luna observed him and nodded occasionally. She put a hand on the small of his back. He blushed a little, not able to hide a grin.
"Well, oh, yes, see … I would … oh, nevermind," he said, gulping down the rest of his wine.
"More wine?" she asked loudly, not removing her hand but reaching for the bottle and pouring him another glass.
"Uh, sure, thanks."
"What were you saying?"
She moved closer to him and the scent of strawberries enveloped him. He breathed deep and relaxed a little.
"I don't remember."
"You don't?" she prodded, placing her free hand on his knee and beginning to rub his back.
He tensed up again.
"I do, yes. You see …"
She rolled her eyes and squeezed his knee, leaning in a little closer, so he could feel her warm breath on his neck.
Placing a hand over hers, he said, "No, let me finish."
She sighed and moved her hand from his knee to his thigh.
He paused.
"If you don't want to … with me … I'll understand."
Luna moved away from him and stood up, her hand lingering on his back and trailing up the length of his spine before she walked away.
He took a deep breath and finished his second glass of wine, reaching for the bottle that was no longer there. Neville frowned and looked around briefly.
"Neville?" her airy voice echoed from the hallway. He spun in his seat and looked down the corridor. Luna was leaning on the doorpost to his bedroom, holding the bottle of wine.
'Oh, my,' he thought, swallowing.
"Yes?" he asked, not moving.
"Have I ever told you about pinching parberries?"
He furrowed his brow, loosening up a bit.
'It's just another one of her stories.' While all of it was most likely nonsense, Neville loved Luna's improbable creatures and plants; always willing to listen to the far-fetched tales she'd been taught many years ago.
"No," he answered.
"Would you like to know about pinching parberries?"
"I don't know. What are they?"
He stood up and faced her, his hands in his pockets.
"They look like blackberries but they pinch," she said simply, swirling the wine in the bottle.
"That's it?" He found this hard to believe. Even harder to believe was the fact that he was wandering down the hallway to meet her.
"Have you ever picked pinching parberries?" she asked looking up at him, her eyes sparkling.
"Are they even real?"
"Oh, yes," Luna assured him, reaching up and undoing the top two buttons on his shirt.
He was no longer looking at her face, but watching her hands, as they stopped on his chest.
"Where do you find them?"
"Lots of places, you know," she said, not looking at him either, but eyeing his belt buckle.
'Not there,' he thought, following her gaze.
"Wine?" he asked, making a futile attempt at distraction.
"No, I'm good," she said, hooking a finger under his belt and pulling him into the room.
"You sure?"
Luna looked at him again, and said, "If you don't want to … with me …"
"N-no, I do, well. Yes, I do, but no, um …" He made a confused face at her.
"Fine then," she said, removing his belt swiftly and tossing it aside.
"Okay," he conceded, placing his hands on her hips. At this, she smiled and set down the bottle of wine on the nearby nightstand. When she turned back to him, he kissed her.
'Finally,' she thought to herself, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into him. He pulled her in a little closer and placed his forehead against hers.
"So tell me about those parberries."
©2004 – Roxanne L. Martin, Writings From Behind The Red Door
Lovegood-Longbottom
Mon.19.Jan.2004
***
The entryway was dark when he opened the door for her. She looked at him oddly when he stood aside, waiting for her to pass.
He motioned for her to go inside.
She continued to look at him.
He frowned, looking into the apartment and then back to her.
Still, she looked at him, smiling a little.
He thought for a moment, then gasped.
She grinned.
Awkwardly, he went to pick her up and she looped her arms around his neck, still smiling as he carried her into his flat.
'Our flat,' he reminded himself.
"One moment," he mumbled, setting her down. She quirked an eyebrow. With a wave of his hand the front room was illuminated. He picked her up a little more confidently this time and delivered her to the couch.
'Oh, two meters, thank you,' she thought, not expecting to be let down so soon, and definitely not at the sofa.
"I don't know if I could have made it on my own," Luna told him when he sat down beside her, a hint of disappointment in her voice. Neville heard this and shrugged inwardly, praying the apprehension would pass.
"You know, I would … well, understand if you … you know … well …"
She watched him closely, amused, but not letting on.
"If you didn't, see, want to … well."
She smiled again and he stopped talking.
"Are you thirsty? Let me get you a drink," he said, standing up and rushing into the kitchen. Once hidden from view, he leaned on the countertop and took a few deep breaths.
'Damn nerves,' he thought to himself. He shook his head and busied himself with finding drinks. He perused his options; butterbeer, half a bottle of wine that was at one-time Harry's, a jug of pumpkin juice, milk, and, the old-standby: water. Pulling two wine glasses from the cabinet, he started for the front room again, desperately wishing he was still in possession of the firewhiskey they'd had at Harry's bachelor party. Neville remembered the bachelor party – some muggle thing Ron insisted on having – and couldn't honestly say he was upset he didn't get one.
"Wine alright?" he asked, returning to the couch and offering her a glass.
"Lovely," was all she said, and his stomach lurched. His anxiety was apparent and she continued to smile at him in hopes of calming him. He set his glass down without taking even a sip and sat on the edge of his seat, absently spinning the gold band on his newly adorned finger.
"So."
"Do you think I should just be Longbottom, or Lovegood-Longbottom?" she asked suddenly, setting her drink down, and narrowing her eyes at him.
Neville choked and spluttered a little bit and had to regain his composure before speaking.
"Well, that's up to you," he finally managed.
"I want your honest opinion. Would you rather it was just plain old Longbottom, or Lovegood-Longbottom?"
He deflated a little on the inside. 'Plain old Longbottom?'
"I like plain old Longbottom, but if you want to keep the Lovegood…"
"I like Longbottom by itself, too," she interrupted. "I'm no longer a Lovegood. I'm your wife."
He smiled a little at this.
"Speaking of that," he began, clearing his throat and leaning forward, elbows on his knees, trying to get up the courage to finish his sentence this time. "I know it's expected for the … well, you and I … erm, us … to … uh, well … you see …" He sighed. Apparently, his sentence was never to have an end.
Luna observed him and nodded occasionally. She put a hand on the small of his back. He blushed a little, not able to hide a grin.
"Well, oh, yes, see … I would … oh, nevermind," he said, gulping down the rest of his wine.
"More wine?" she asked loudly, not removing her hand but reaching for the bottle and pouring him another glass.
"Uh, sure, thanks."
"What were you saying?"
She moved closer to him and the scent of strawberries enveloped him. He breathed deep and relaxed a little.
"I don't remember."
"You don't?" she prodded, placing her free hand on his knee and beginning to rub his back.
He tensed up again.
"I do, yes. You see …"
She rolled her eyes and squeezed his knee, leaning in a little closer, so he could feel her warm breath on his neck.
Placing a hand over hers, he said, "No, let me finish."
She sighed and moved her hand from his knee to his thigh.
He paused.
"If you don't want to … with me … I'll understand."
Luna moved away from him and stood up, her hand lingering on his back and trailing up the length of his spine before she walked away.
He took a deep breath and finished his second glass of wine, reaching for the bottle that was no longer there. Neville frowned and looked around briefly.
"Neville?" her airy voice echoed from the hallway. He spun in his seat and looked down the corridor. Luna was leaning on the doorpost to his bedroom, holding the bottle of wine.
'Oh, my,' he thought, swallowing.
"Yes?" he asked, not moving.
"Have I ever told you about pinching parberries?"
He furrowed his brow, loosening up a bit.
'It's just another one of her stories.' While all of it was most likely nonsense, Neville loved Luna's improbable creatures and plants; always willing to listen to the far-fetched tales she'd been taught many years ago.
"No," he answered.
"Would you like to know about pinching parberries?"
"I don't know. What are they?"
He stood up and faced her, his hands in his pockets.
"They look like blackberries but they pinch," she said simply, swirling the wine in the bottle.
"That's it?" He found this hard to believe. Even harder to believe was the fact that he was wandering down the hallway to meet her.
"Have you ever picked pinching parberries?" she asked looking up at him, her eyes sparkling.
"Are they even real?"
"Oh, yes," Luna assured him, reaching up and undoing the top two buttons on his shirt.
He was no longer looking at her face, but watching her hands, as they stopped on his chest.
"Where do you find them?"
"Lots of places, you know," she said, not looking at him either, but eyeing his belt buckle.
'Not there,' he thought, following her gaze.
"Wine?" he asked, making a futile attempt at distraction.
"No, I'm good," she said, hooking a finger under his belt and pulling him into the room.
"You sure?"
Luna looked at him again, and said, "If you don't want to … with me …"
"N-no, I do, well. Yes, I do, but no, um …" He made a confused face at her.
"Fine then," she said, removing his belt swiftly and tossing it aside.
"Okay," he conceded, placing his hands on her hips. At this, she smiled and set down the bottle of wine on the nearby nightstand. When she turned back to him, he kissed her.
'Finally,' she thought to herself, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into him. He pulled her in a little closer and placed his forehead against hers.
"So tell me about those parberries."
©2004 – Roxanne L. Martin, Writings From Behind The Red Door