For anyone who's familiar with my other account, this may look familiar. It was part of a series of one-shots about failed love-lives at Hogwarts. However, I decided to post them here instead.

There are two more parts to this; please look at them.

Read and review, thanks. xx

The first time had to be the worst – had to be. Well, that's what he told himself. That's what he thought when he looked into Hermione Granger's hazel eyes, all his underappreciated courage rolled up into a small ball, only to have them crushed in seven simple words. Sorry Neville, I'm already going with someone.

And so the Yule Ball had approached looking as bleak as ever. Bleak, until a head of flaming red-hair sparked hope in the back of his throat. Ginny was in third year. Ginny wouldn't have a date yet.

And she didn't! Oh joyous day, she didn't! And so, Christmas finally arrived, along with his fancy new dress-robes, courtesy of his Grandmother. He got himself looking all smart and neat and…handsome.

But she snuck off, didn't she?

Well, that's not exactly true. Ginny Weasley doesn't sneak off; Ginny Weasley isn't that type of girl. In a way, it was him who snuck off. After that excruciatingly humiliating dance he needed to get away. Can I get you a drink?

And so he slunk off to the punch bowl, finding Viktor Krum pouring bittersweet punch into two glasses, looking extremely pleased with himself, and receiving a scowl from poor Neville Longbottom. The news of Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger had spread through the dance-floor like wild-fire.

And so, he had slunk back to where Ginny was waiting, to find her immersed in a conversation with that Michael Corner boy. And that had been the end of that. Ginny and Michael had apparently stayed out all night together…their lips together, too.

And then the next year. He had spent it ogling at Ginny, stealing glances as she laughed, getting lost in her big, brown eyes.

And finally there had been redemption. Redemption in the insane stories and theories of the outcast Ravenclaw and her large, grey eyes that were never short of a thought – an insane thought, at that.

Luna had been the one. He had been sure of it. Ever since that night in the Department of Mysteries, he had been smitten. And so had she.

Until two years out of Hogwarts, when she had met that boy who had agreed to help her find a Crumple Horned-Snorkack. And so off to Sweden they went. And then they returned. They brought back no evidence of the creature, of course, but instead a diamond incrusted ring.

And then there were the two little boys, with mystifying grey. I could have given you kids, Luna; I could have given you everything.

Now, that hurt.

But still that wasn't the worst.

Hannah Abbot.

She had loved him. She had never given up. She had never moved on. She had never fallen out of love.

The monster that took Hannah away from him wasn't a handsome Quidditch player, or Michael or Dean or Harry or any other childhood friend, or even some crackpot who undoubtedly believed that Sirius Black had really been Stubby Boardman. This monster was inescapable:

Hannah Longbottom
1980 – 2021
Beloved wife and friend
"You were the one"

Poor Neville, he has no action throughout the whole series, apart from taking Ginny to the Yule Ball and Luna helping him into a seat at Dumbie's funeral.