Pairings: NL/LL and H/Hr

Compatibility: Could be minus Epilogue (didn't like it much .)

Prompt: The boy who lived in the shadow of "The Boy Who Lived." (From http:/roflrazzi. com/2010/08/12/ celebrity-pictures-harry-potter-boy-who-lived/)

A/N: Long time no see, people. Last story was published in March of 2009 and here we are in August of 2010. College has kept me very busy, but I'm ready to jump back in with something new.

I've been watching/reading/playing lots of Harry Potter lately and realizing just how unsatisfied I was with the Epilogue. Lots of people have done this kind of story, but it is my turn. So enjoy and if you like it (or not), leave me a comment. Thanks!

I don't own anything, at all.

He knew he was no one special. Neville Longbottom figured he would always just be the boy who lived in the shadow of "The Boy Who Lived." He would forever be known as Harry Potter's friend. His friends would go on to do famous things, he was sure.

Harry was, well, Harry Potter and would always be famous as the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice and the savior of the wizarding world. Ron and Ginny would become world famous Quidditch players. The third of the Golden Trio, Heroine Granger, was a bit harder; she was engaged to Harry and was already writing their adventures down, starting the moment they stepped on the train back in 1991. She and Harry were both working around lives as professors at Hogwarts, in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts respectively.

The young man smiled as he thought about the last person. Luna Lovegood, world famous naturalist in progress. He absolutely adored everything about her. Sure she had her quirks, many of them, and he still wasn't quite sure if her creatures were real or not, but he still loved her. His smile faded and his brown eyes closed. They had all thought she would stay with Rolf, but they broke it off after a few years; said it just wasn't working anymore. He saw the redness in her eyes when she hugged him after Rolf left. Neville only wrapped his arms securely around her and whispered that everything would be alright. It was while she was away that he had come to terms with his feelings, but he knew he would never tell her. She deserved someone who would give her everything she ever wanted. He'd gotten his ears boxed twice for that, once from Ginny and once from Hermione.

They had convinced him to write everything down like he was addressing it to Luna, but he didn't actually have to. It would help, the two girls said. Then they gave him a one foot minimum. He was supposed to be the one giving assignment, not them. He had scoffed at the idea originally, but after several hours of staring at the wall in his office, he decided to give it a try.

Ms. Lovegood No, too formal.
My Dearest Luna He crossed out another line; too lovey-dovey.
My Dear Friend Luna That would suffice, he thought.

My Dear Friend Luna,

After much prodding from Hermione and Ginny, I've decided to write some things down. I've had these feelings since we met at the beginning of my fifth year, the Department of Mysteries year as Ginny is now calling it. I think it started at the fourth or fifth DA meeting. I got this weird fluttery feeling in my stomach. It was gone by the time we left, so I didn't think much about it until it was a month or so later and it was still happening.

You would laugh at me for this. I went to Madame Pomfrey to see if I had something wrong with me. She laughed at me! "Mr. Longbottom," she said, "you are in love. There is nothing wrong with you." You probably never noticed, as your mind is always off in some other place, but I started watching you, figuring out what made me feel the way I do. It was petty, outer things at first, your smile (bright and encouraging, like it was just for whoever you were looking at), your hair (I always wondered how you got it so soft), and your eyes (always staring at something far off that no one else could see, but full of intelligence and kindness). You never treated me badly and never ignored me when I needed help. I think your quirks endeared me to you more, your wand behind your left ear, the random knowledge of Nargles and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Listen to me, rambling on; thank goodness you will never see this.

Anyway, I tried to move on when you started with Rolf. That's why I dated Hannah for a while; she was nice and I thought I could make myself love her, but she noticed it before I did. I was trying too hard to be someone I wasn't. She sat me down and told me flat out that she wasn't going to settle for second best, that I had better tell her what was going on before she left. All of this spilled out. I was crying by the time I finished. I'm such a weak fool. Hannah just sat and held me; she was so kind even after all the times I ignored her. She made me look at her and said that I'd better go after you as soon as I could or I would risk losing you for good.

I've tried, goodness knows I've tried. Every time I try to tell you, though, I get queasy and my tongue is tied in knots, and all I can do is mumble some incoherent thing. I wish I could actually tell you how I feel. Tell you that I'm head-over-heels, better than anything, give my life for yours in love with you, Luna Lovegood. And there is nothing I can do about it except keep it to myself. You deserve so much better than a bumbling, stuttering, cowardly herbology professor who has done nothing but live in the shadow of "The Boy Who Lived."

A noise out in the greenhouse startled Neville away from his letter. He put his quill down and stepped out only to see the very person he was writing about. Her pale blonde hair was pulled up into a bun, her wand stuck through it. He started toward her as she stabilized a pot she had knocked into and turned.

"Hi Luna," he called out, his voice smaller and weaker than he intended.

Her head whipped around, silver grey eyes spotting him instantly. She smiled as she ran to hug him. "Neville!" Luna looked up at him, grinning ear to ear, as she stepped back. "Sorry about your plant."

"It didn't get knocked over so it's alright." He was about to say something else when there was a small voice at the door.

"Professor Longbottom?"

Neville looked up to see one of his second year Hufflepuffs. "What is it, Ms. Ashford?"

"I wanted to ask about this morning's assignment, but if you're busy, I can come back."

"No, it's fine. Come in." He waved her over as he turned to his friend, "Would you wait in the office while I take care of this?" She only nodded and slowly wandered off. Turning back to the student, he asked, "Now, what is it you wanted to know?"

They had been working for a good ten minutes on the properties of mandrakes when there was a very loud gasp from the office. Neville noted it, guessing what had happened, but continued working. The student felt better prepared shortly after and left to go back to their house before dinner. The herbology professor took a deep stabilizing breath before walking to the back of the greenhouse and into his office. He was not at all surprised when he walked in to find Luna curled up in one of his chairs, letter in hand. There were tears in her eyes and the hand that did not hold the parchment was covering her mouth. He turned and wandered around the office, checking the pots he had stationed around. Arms around him stopped him in his tracks.

Her forehead rested between his shoulders and her hands rested flat on his stomach. He didn't move, afraid of what she was thinking. "Why…why did you never tell me? I've waited so long for you to say something, anything."

Gently he loosened her grip and turned in her arms, wrapping his around her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I'm a coward and a nobody. I'm a fool, I thought…" He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in the scent that was uniquely Luna.

A fist slammed into his shoulder. His arms dropped and he stepped away in shock from the uncharacteristic violence of the young woman. The dazed look that she normally held was gone and she was furious. He backed away until his knees hit the edge of one of the wide seats that occupied the office space and he collapsed into it. Angry Luna was not one to be messed with. She put one hand on either side of the chair and leaned close. Neville could see very easily that her eyes were red and she was about ready to cry, but she was going to yell at him first.

"You listen here, Neville Longbottom. You may be sorry, very sorry, and a bit of a fool, but you are not a coward or a nobody. And you have never lived in Harry's shadow. You stood by his side as his equal during the Second Wizard War. You are far from a coward in my eyes. You stood up to the Carrows and gave us hope that everything would be alright even after Ginny left and I was kidnapped. I knew you wouldn't give up because you believed in your friends. For goodness sake, you stood up to Voldemort and laughed in his face, calling for the DA to rise against him when we thought all was lost. You proved you truly belonged in your house when you pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat, something only Harry had been able to do, and used it to slay Nagini." Luna used gentle fingers to trace some of the scars on his face. "You are somebody. You are Neville Longbottom, son of Frank and Alice, grandson of Augusta. You were an auror and now you are the Hogwarts herbology professor. I'm not always dazed and can easily spy because people don't think I pay attention. I do and I've always noticed you. You are someone very special to your friends and you should never, ever forget that." She leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes. "Please," she cried softly, "don't ever belittle yourself because you think you're not worthy of something or someone. There is no one more worthy of me than you."

Neville sat for a moment in pure shock. "Luna," he breathed.

A tear slipped from her closed eyes and down her cheek as she spoke again. "Please, just… just tell me the truth."

Callused fingertips brushed the tears away and then pulled her into his lap. One arm he kept wrapped behind her back while he used the other hand to cradle her face. He kissed her forehead. "Look at me, Luna." She opened her eyes, the grey silver with unshed tears. "More than anything in this world, I love you. I would give up everything just to see you happy, so please, stop crying. I can't bear to see you hurting." The young woman leaned her head against his shoulder and smiled softly. "Just don't tell me I've lost my chance."

"Never. It could have been the morning of my wedding and I still might have gone with you." She fingered a scar on his cheek before pulling him down to kiss him briefly on the lips. "I love you, Neville Longbottom, and don't you ever forget it."

They sat in that chair, wrapped in each other's warmth for a while, not even noticing when the bells chimed for dinner. Two of his fellow professors popped in just before sunset and found them, sleeping peacefully together. A length of parchment on the floor caught the attention of one. She picked it up, only to smile as she read it. She frowned at the end, pointing out the last sentence to the man behind her. He shook his head and quietly strode over to the desk to pick up the quill and ink. He crossed out the last line and wrote.

You deserve so much better than a bumbling, stuttering, cowardly herbology professor who has done nothing but live in the shadow of "The Boy Who Lived."

You are a courageous, strong, confident herbology professor that supported "The Boy Who Lived" through some of his toughest times. I am glad to have a friend like you. The boy who lived is nothing without his friends.

~Harry

The woman took the quill from him, re-inked it, and wrote her own message.

Neville Longbottom – Didn't I tell you this would be a wonderful idea? I'm never wrong and you better thank me later. When I saw Luna on the grounds, I sent her to visit, hoping you would say something. Looks like you did. Enjoy being in love, I know I do.

~Hermione

When he woke up later after the moon had begun to rise, Neville would only smile at the notes, thankful he had such friends. He would carry Luna as carefully as possible back up to the castle and into his room, where she would wake briefly before curling back against him and sleeping, a smile on her face. He would follow not long after, his arms around the woman he loved most of all, knowing he was someone special to at least three people.