I'm not just kidding when I say that I'm not J.K.
Welcome to my series of Neville/Luna drabbles. I think they were sort of obligated, as characters, to have some sort of romantic interaction even if the almighty J.K. thinks that Luna belongs with Newt Scamander and Neville with Hannah Abbott. Hence this series of little romantic drabbles. To be updated randomly and sporadically as I come up with cute situations. Enjoy! --Alex
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Clap if You Believe in Nargles
He looked at her, caution in his very eyes. She read in quiet, nibbling a hangnail, placid and oblivious. He wanted her, he loved her. She remained aloof, complacent, and unresponsive.
He had to let her know, he could not go on like this. She seemed pensive, perhaps amenable to change.
He was going to try.
"Luna?"
He grappled with the thick stem of the Grudgutt Lily, resident of the pot he cradled in an absentmindedly paternal manner. She was slow in raising her eyes off the page she was reading upside down. He was grateful for this, because it took him a few tedious seconds and an eighth of a teaspoon of sweat to break the stem of the flower. She only looked at him when, finally, she finished reading the page and poised her finger to turn it.
"What is it, Neville?"
He held out the flower, awkward, at arm's length.
She looked at it vaguely.
"Luna?" He gasped again, this time pressuring himself to say the words so much at the forefront of his mind. "I love you."
"I love you too, silly," she said, still examining the flower without extending her hand to embrace it. "Though, I must say, there's a nargle inside that flower. Grudgutt is their favorite to live in, didn't you know?"
"I never knew that," he replied, frustrated, not wanting to discuss nargles. "But what I mean is-"
"Sprout said so only last Monday; look for yourself and you'll see it."
He always liked to oblige her, so he did bring the flower up to his eye to squint at its petals.
Then the nargle bit him on the nose.
"Argh!" he exclaimed in pain, watching the angry nargle shake its tiny foot at him and bounce into another Grudgutt pot.
She shook her head. "Put some chamomile leaf on it, and the bite will disappear," she said, turning the page.
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