A Beautiful World

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Harry Potter. This is an amateur, non-profit work.
Pairing: Neville/Luna
Prompt: a blackout
A/N: This fic was written as an early Christmas gift for my lovely clone, Callinectes (who really deserves a present for putting up with my yammering on a daily basis and just generally being awesome). :D It is also unapologetically fluffy. Thanks for reading!

The clinical, antiseptic scent of multiple Scouring Charms tingled Neville's nose as he navigated the corridors of St. Mungo's, his trainers squeaking on the waxed linoleum floor. Next to him, Luna seemed to glide rather than walk, giving the appearance of going at a leisurely pace in spite of keeping up with his long strides. She only stopped once, just after they entered the Janus Thickey Ward, to adjust some battered tinsel that had begun to slip from its position over the locked entrance.

Lately, Neville always thought Luna looked lovely, but her quiet, strange beauty seemed amplified when cast against the backdrop of this dismal place. It was like seeing vivid orange paint splattered across a grey canvas: jarring, but all the brighter for it.

"Thanks for coming with me, Luna," he said, smiling at her.

His gran would come with him on Christmas Day, but around this time of year, he reckoned they could use all the visitors they could get, even if they didn't realise there was anything special that prompted the friendly man with a round face to come see them more often than usual.

Before Luna could respond, a familiar blond man with a dazzling, perfect smile appeared in front of them, as suddenly as if he'd apparated there.

Damn. Not again.

"Well, hello, there!" Lockhart said, reaching into his lilac coloured dressing gown and pulling out a peacock feather quill that was ten years past its prime. "Come back to see me again, have you? Couldn't stay away?" Glancing at Luna, he turned his smarmy grin up a notch. "Oh, and you've brought a friend! Hello, my dear."

"Hello, Professor Lockhart," Luna said. "It's nice to see you again."

"Professor?" Lockhart replied, drawing his eyebrows together in confusion. "Am I? I'm sorry, have we met before?"

Luna nodded. "Years ago, when I was just eleven."

"Ah!" Lockhart seemed relieved by this news. "That explains it, then. Well, how many autographs would you like? And don't worry — joined-up writing has been my specialty for quite some time now."

"Autographs?" Luna replied. "One, I suppose." She watched as Lockhart produced a photo of himself and, with great care, scrawled his name across the bottom.

"It is very nice joined-up writing," Luna said with a gracious smile as she accepted the signed photo. "How many of my autographs would you like? I don't have any pictures with me, I'm afraid..."

"Why would I want your autograph?" Lockhart asked, tilting his head to one side like a bewildered puppy.

Neville hadn't seen his former teacher look quite so perplexed since his first year in the closed ward.

Luna blinked. "I don't know," she said. "Why would I want yours?"

"Mr. Longbottom!" Healer Strout said, beaming at him as she approached. "So good to see you again." With a maternal pat on Lockhart's shoulder, she added, "Come on, Gilderoy, let's leave Mr. Longbottom and his friend in peace so they can visit with his parents. You could answer some of your fan mail; you'd like that, wouldn't you? Gladys Gudgeon's weekly letter came in earlier, isn't that nice?"

With Lockhart out of the way, Neville led Luna towards the flowery curtains that concealed his parents' beds. His mother greeted him, as always, with a timid, shaky hand that held a sweet wrapper: Nosebleed Nougat this time. Healer Strout must have been bringing in her daughter's wrappers for Alice again; residents of the Janus Thickey Ward weren't allowed anywhere near Fred and George's inventions.

"Thanks, Mum," Neville said, slipping the scrap of waxy paper into his coat pocket.

Moving slowly in order to avoid startling her and to give her ample time to back away, he pressed a gentle kiss to her sallow, prematurely wrinkled cheek. She hummed to herself and rummaged in the pockets of the fluffy dressing gown he'd given her for her birthday until she found an empty box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. This was given to Neville as well, of course.

"Hi, Dad," Neville said with a wave in his father's direction that was acknowledged by a few rapid blinks on Frank's part. "It's Christmas Eve. I brought a friend of mine to see you. This is Luna Lovegood. Luna, this is my mum and dad."

"It's nice to meet you Mr. Longbottom, Mrs. Longbottom," Luna said. Her protuberant eyes widened as her gaze fell on the stack of Quibblers on Frank's bedside table. Neville had forgotten to tell her that his father was a fan, of sorts. Neville had been bringing him copies of the Quibbler almost as long as he'd been friends with Luna. Frank seemed to enjoy looking at the colourful, outlandish pictures of mythical beasts — inasmuch as he could really enjoy anything.

Over the course of the next half-hour, Luna babbled excitedly to Frank about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and Blibbering Humdingers and other such creatures while Neville told his mother about his latest work in the Auror Department. Alice responded with sweet wrapper after sweet wrapper — six, in total, counting the first two. Frank's silence, glassy eyes, and occasional uncontrollable twitches didn't seem to faze Luna at all; she talked to him as though he was a normal person.

Well, as normal as any fan of the Quibbler could be, anyway.

To Neville's surprise, when he switched chairs with Luna to spend some time visiting with his father, Alice pulled her hairbrush out of her bedside table and held it out to Luna with a trembling hand. In the past, only Healer Strout and Neville himself had been allowed to handle Alice's hair; she didn't even let Neville's gran touch it. He watched as Luna carefully worked through the knots and tangles, her long, nimble fingers twisting the wispy white locks into a neat plait.

If Alice hadn't motioned to him just then and dropped a crumpled Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper in his palm, Neville thought he might have felt a twinge of irrational jealousy at the ease with which his mother accepted Luna.

When Frank started to nod off, Neville decided it was time to end the visit. After saying their goodbyes (and, thankfully, managing to avoid Lockhart), he and Luna walked the short distance to his flat. The night was frosty and the street teeming with Muggles rushing to complete their last-minute Christmas shopping, leaving the pair of them shivering for want of a Warming Charm.

As soon as they entered the warmth of his living room, Neville hurried to the kitchen to put the kettle on. By the time he returned with two steaming mugs of milky tea, Luna had ensconced herself on his sofa. Spread out on the coffee table in front of her were the sweet wrappers he'd left in his coat pocket.

Humming, she tapped the end of her nose in thought and shifted the wrappers around. No arrangement seemed to satisfy her; she kept shaking her head, making her blonde hair swish back and forth in frustration. Unsure whether or not he should disturb her, Neville moved in silence, resting her tea on a coaster and settling himself into his favourite armchair.

"I've got it!" Luna exclaimed, beaming at him and giggling when her sudden outburst almost made him spill his tea. "Neville!"

"Yes?"

"Neville!"

"...Yes?"

Luna pointed wildly at the wrinkled bits of paper, coming dangerously close to knocking over her own mug. "That's what it says: Neville." Leaning forward, she grabbed his arm and tugged until he moved next to her on the sofa.

"How does that—" he gestured at his mother's gifts, "—spell my name?"

"It took me some time to work out," Luna replied. "It's quite simple though, really. See, she gave you the Nosebleed Nougat first, then the Bertie Bott's, Fever Fudge, Puking Pastilles — your mum really likes Weasley's products, doesn't she? — then Ghoul Pops, Chocolate Wands, and Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. Think about the number assigned to each one. Do you see the pattern yet?"

Neville tried — he really did — but he had no idea what Luna was on about. "No," he said sadly.

Luna rummaged around in her handbag, shifting aside all manner of strange talismans and a few squeaky, fuzzy things that actually seemed to be alive. Eventually, she found the scrap of parchment and stubby barn owl quill she'd been searching for. She scribbled out a list of the sweet wrappers in the order Neville had received them, tracing back over certain letters to emphasise them.

Nosebleed Nougat
Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans
Fever Fudge
Puking Pastilles
Ghoul Pops
Chocolate Wands
Drooble's Best Blowing Gum

"See?" she said with an encouraging smile. "The first letter on the first wrapper is the first letter of the answer, followed by the second letter on the second wrapper, the third letter on the third, and so on. It wasn't until I...err...Neville? Are you all right? You look like you have a case of the Floogles."

Neville was more than all right. Nodding, he brought a hand up to tuck a lock of Luna's hair behind her ear. His fingers trailed down her cheek and along her neck, pausing as he felt her rapid pulse.

He didn't know if his mother had actually intended to send a message of any sort, but that hardly seemed to matter. Luna always did see things no one else seemed to notice. It was as though she lived in a different world — one full of beauty and wonder and impossible things. And Neville, in turn, saw her — saw the kindness and loyalty and endearing, wild imagination that everyone but her closest friends missed due to her eccentricities.

During her explanation, he'd decided, right then and there, to kiss her. He'd wanted to do so for ages — possibly years, if he was completely honest with himself. Enough was enough. He was a Gryffindor, wasn't he?

Before he could act on his feelings, the flat was plunged into darkness. Cursing, he fumbled around on the table for his wand. Living in an ancient Muggle flat just a few blocks from St. Mungo's, although convenient for visiting his parents, did have its drawbacks. The wiring in the place was probably even older than his gran. He had been meaning to make it more wizard-friendly since he moved in, but never seemed to get around to it.

"Wait!" Luna squeaked, clamping a hand over Neville's mouth the same instant his fingers closed around his wand. "Don't you know you should never, ever cast Lumos on Christmas Eve?"

Neville bit back a chuckle. It wouldn't do to laugh at her. "Why is that, then?" he asked.

"It could summon a herd of, err, Umgubular Slashkilters. I don't think they could get up the stairs, but better safe than sorry."

Her voice dropped lower and lower with every word, and though he couldn't see her, he could feel her getting closer. His stomach gave a surprised, joyful flip when her lips brushed against his. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her as close as possible and eagerly deepened the kiss. She threaded her fingers through his hair, making a quiet, contented hum that made him think perhaps he should never stop kissing her, but then she backed away, ever so slightly.

"Neville?" she whispered. "I have a confession."

"Mm?" he murmured, trailing his lips down the soft skin of her neck.

"I lied. Umgubular Slashkilters aren't summoned by casting Lumos on Christmas Eve. Even if they were, they're quite harmless creatures, in spite of having the word 'slash' in their names. The worst they would do would be to give you an enthusiastic nuzzle. I just...well, it looked like you were about to kiss me, and oh, I thought that would be so very lovely, but then the lights went off and you got distracted. I thought I might lose my nerve to kiss you myself and get you back on track if it wasn't dark. I'm sorry I tricked you."

Neville couldn't hold back the affectionate laugh that bubbled up his throat. "You don't need to apologise, Luna," he said, punctuating each word with a peck to her lips. "I'm glad you did it. It's good to know we won't be stampeded by rampaging Umgubular Whatevers if I do this, though." Holding his wand up, he added, "Lumos."

Luna gave him a shy smile, her eyes glimmering in the muted blue wandlight. Grinning, Neville watched her lashes flutter shut as he lowered his mouth to hers once more.

"Hey, Luna," he said, some time later. "How did you even know my mum was trying to say something with the sweet wrappers, by the way?"

Luna laughed and shook her head, as though he'd said something absurd. "Neville," she said, patting his shoulder. "Why else would she give them to you?"

The End