The battle was in full swing, if that phrase isn't too careless for a war that had already ended hundreds of young, innocent lives. Neville was sprinting along the corridor of Hogwarts' 7th floor, trying to ignore the pain in his leg that made him want to fall down and give up with every step, because he was on a mission. Destruction surrounded him, fires were burning the priceless antique furniture that lined the corridor, and what wasn't burning or burnt had been cursed to smithereens. The school that Neville had grown up in, learnt and loved in, made friends for life in, was being destroyed before his eyes, yet there was little he could do about it. However, despite the signs that a battle had taken place here, the 7th floor was currently deserted. The only noise was Neville's heavy breathing and footsteps, the flickering of the surrounding flames, and the distant cries of anguish from the centre of the battle, which was mostly taking place in the Great Hall downstairs.

With a silent sigh of sadness, Neville remembered the first time he'd seen the Great Hall, back at the beginning of his first year at Hogwarts. He thought about that moment the Sorting Hat had been placed on his head, and he'd said a silent prayer to be put in Hufflepuff, terrified of ruining Gryffindor's fantastic reputation. Admittedly, Neville had beaten his own expectations of himself over the past year when it came to bravery, and he knew his Gran was proud of him. Deep down he was glad that he'd been put in Gryffindor, just like his parents, as his Gran had always drilled it into him that it was the only house worth being in. Neville disagreed with that, although he'd never voice this opinion, for fear of being 'Jelly-Legs jinxed into the middle of next week'.

Yes, Neville didn't think that Hufflepuff would be a bad house to be in, the students there were loyal, hardworking, and valued friendship and honesty, just like he did. Neville could've coped with being a Hufflepuff.
However, Slytherin was always out of the question. He'd have brought shame upon the family if he'd been Sorted as a snake, and would've hated to be there, even if it hadn't been for the disgrace.
And he'd never have been put in Ravenclaw. Neville knew that the Eagles' intelligence was far above his own, equalling, maybe even rivalling, Hermione's. On top of that, he hated the attitude of the Ravenclaw students to the other pupils. They considered themselves above the others, just because they were smart; they didn't seem to realise that there are more important things in a wizard or witch than intelligence. He hated the way they spent hours, not only revising to ensure they attained O's in every exam, but in front of mirrors, ensuring that they looked stunning as well. A little voice in Neville's head told him he was a tiny bit jealous of them, but he didn't allow this thought to take hold.

However, not all Ravenclaw's were like that, he thought. A few of them didn't care what they looked like, and maybe there was one who was beautiful and intelligent without even trying... 'Snap out of it!' He thought, continuing along the corridor.

Although Neville wouldn't admit it to anyone, for fear of breaking their morale, he knew that tonight could be his last:
- If it wasn't enough that he was in the middle of a warzone, but he was a Gryffindor, from the Death Eater's least favourite house. 'No mercy will be shown to any lion,' he thought miserably, 'although I doubt that Voldy's followers know the meaning of the word. Even if they do, I guess it won't make much difference, unless you're a pure-blooded Slytherin.'
- On top of that, he had developed a habit over the past year of deliberately annoying the Carrows, and now that their chums had turned up, Neville knew that he wouldn't be on their nice list...
- Oh, and he happened to be one of Bellatrix's worst enemies, and that was saying something, since there were Muggleborns fighting her out there, who she liked more than him.
So, all in all, Neville didn't have high hopes for the way the battle might turn out for him. He knew that there was something he wanted to do, and would regret not doing, if the worst should happen to him.

He was going to ask Luna Lovegood out. 'I mean, what's the worst that could happen?' He asked himself nervously. 'She could say no, and you'd look like an idiot.' A voice inside his head pointed out.

Now, most people would say that he should be out there fighting, instead of worrying about girls, and Neville could certainly see their point of view. But it wasn't as if he hadn't been brave and fought proudly this evening, he had the scars to prove it: His face had a gash down the side, from which the blood was finally beginning to dry up, causing a lovely crusted effect. His leg had got caught under some falling bricks, from which he'd struggled to remove himself, and now he had sharp stabbing pains in his right leg every time he took a step. His clothes were ripped and stained with blood and soot, and his face was covered in scars and bruises.

But none of that was on his mind. Luna was.

He'd reached the end of the corridor now – where was she? Neville had checked the whole school already, floor at a time, with no luck, so he'd assumed that she'd be up here fighting valiantly, but no...
So where could she be? There was that little voice again in the back of his head: 'There's one place you haven't checked,' it told him.
No. Neville refused to believe that Luna would be amongst the... the dead. Luna was incredible, invincible, it seemed sometimes; she couldn't just die. But, all the same, he was starting to get worried...

Suddenly, Neville heard a noise behind him, the sound of a shoe squeaking on the wooden floor. He whirled around, pointing his wand at the intruder, only to find a girl of slim build and average height with large, round blue eyes, staring at him. She was dressed in a purple jumper and jeans, her long, wavy blonde hair carelessly thrown into a low ponytail, although pieces had fallen out of the bobble, and were now framing her elegant face. She looked at him in mild surprise through large round blue eyes, one of which had a scar underneath, which was still wet with blood.

Neville felt his worry leave him: 'She's ok!' He thought 'She's alive!'
He ran towards her, pulling her into a hug, before his injured leg buckled, and he fell to the floor. 'Smooth,' he thought. Luna's laugh echoed through the corridor, the sound of hope in a time of darkness, it seemed to Neville. She offered him her hand, to help him up.
"Thanks," he smiled for one of the first times since she'd gone missing. Those months after Luna had disappeared from the Hogwarts Express at Christmas had been the hardest in Neville's life. The mixture of worry and despair that had lived in his gut had made him what to give up and cry, but, in Harry's absence, Neville had become the new symbol of resilience amongst the students.
"You're welcome," Luna replied, smiling slightly.
Neville suddenly became aware that he was not the only injured one:
"Your cheek..." he began awkwardly, gesturing to the gash that ran under her eye.
"Oh, yes, don't worry about that, Neville," she told him "It was just a little misunderstanding that I got in to." Luna touched the injury, as if to assess the damage, wincing slightly as she did so.
"Here, let me" Neville said, moving Luna's hand away from her face, slipping her palm into his. With his free hand he tilted Luna's face slightly, so he could see the gash in the light, summoned a tissue, and tried to wipe the blood away. She winced again, and tightened the grip on his hand.
"Sorry," he mumbled "I'm not much of a healer; I think you might need it dressing professionally."
Luna shook her head "Dad told me that the healers aren't on our side anymore. They actually improve your illness temporarily, and then make it worse than ever after a few weeks, in an attempt to kill the innocent. They're working for Voldemort, you see"
Neville smiled. Luna's crazy beliefs were one of the things that he loved about her. He noticed that they were still holding hands.
"Well, maybe Madame Pomfrey will clean it up after the battle," Neville told her optimistically "In the meantime, there's something I need to show you."
"But, why aren't you downstairs fighting?" Luna asked him, but there was no hint of accusation in her voice, just pure curiosity.
"I was, until a few minutes ago, because I was looking for you." Neville explained.
"That's nice," Luna smiled "So what did you want to show me?"
"What? Oh, right, yeah. It's this way," Still holding Luna's hand, Neville led her to the top of the Astronomy Tower. On any other night, the view would've been stunning, but tonight looking out over Hogsmeade, you could practically feel the waves of panic radiating off the previously peaceful village.

The pair stood by the open window frame, feeling the cool night air on their faces. Neville lit a couple of candles hastily; something he probably should've done before he'd brought Luna up here. He looked at Luna to see her smiling happily:
"What is it?" He asked her
"Just the view of Hogsmeade. I see it a lot on the way up Ravenclaw Tower, but tonight it looks... different." She told him.
"What d'you mean?"
"Well, often when you see a place from a height, you don't notice anything about it, other than a pretty view. It's just an area filled with ordinary people living ordinary lives. But when something shifts in their lifestyle, when they know that something's changing, you can feel it, even if you're only looking on from a distance. It's a one of the forms of magic us wizards and witches don't fully understand, as it belongs to Squibs and Muggles too. The villagers of Hogsmeade know what's going on up here, and they're supporting us. They might not be up here fighting, but they're wishing us all the luck in the world, hoping beyond hope that we win, praying that we all stay safe, and I can just feel it! Can't you?" Luna turned to him, taking hold of both his hands, her face radiating hope. He didn't have a clue what she was on about, but she was often wise in ways that he didn't understand.
"I'll take your word for it," he grinned sheepishly "but I can't say I understand completely."
"You don't need to." Luna explained quietly, "But if you ever want to find out, just ask."

Stood there, alone with Luna, in the dimly lit tower overlooking Hogsmeade, Neville could sort of see what she meant about a form of magic that belonged to everyone. But he wasn't thinking of the magic she spoke of, he was thinking of love. And it was love that was giving him the courage to do what every other part of his mind was telling him not to.

Before he could stop himself, Neville leant in and kissed her. The moment their lips touched, Neville could see fireworks going off in front of his closed eyes, and his first thought was that he was extremely glad that he'd conquered his fears.
For a second had Luna just stood there, too surprised to react. But then she felt something in her gut, a feeling that she hadn't felt before, but she understood it immediately. It was an emotion that was difficult to put into words, when being experienced for the first time, but Luna's stomach dipped in nervous excitement, before she was filled with a sense of being truly loved. Not loved in the way her father loves her and vice-versa, but in a way that she had thought she'd never experience, being 'Loony Lovegood'.

So Luna returned the kiss, placing her arms around his neck and running her hands through his hair, and the couple stood there in the moonlight; lips pressed together in a prolonged embrace, whilst their arms pulled the other closer and closer, until both were out of oxygen.
It was Neville who gently broke off first, but only moved far enough away to make sure that they could stand with their noses touching – a gesture some may find too sickly-sweet, but Luna appreciated. She giggled quietly.
"You know, Neville" she said softly "I wasn't expecting that..."
"Really?" he was genuinely surprised. "I thought I'd failed at hiding my feelings from you,"
"But, why would you want to hide how you felt, Neville?"
"In case...Well, I was worried you didn't feel the same!" Neville explained.
"But, love isn't anything to be embarrassed about! It's a beautiful thing!"
"Yeah, I see that now..." he reached out and tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear, as she smiled up at him. "I love you, Luna," Neville told her "I hope you know that."
"I do," she told him.

Although he'd have liked an 'I love you too' in return, the kiss that she gave him conveyed her feelings, without needing words.
"You know, the reason I brought you up here was to ask if you'd like to go out with me sometime," Neville told Luna when they broke apart. "Maybe Hogsmeade, if those blasted Dementors ever leave."
"I think I'd like that, Neville, I'd like that a lot."
He grinned "Then it's a date!"
"It is. But in the meantime, we've got a war to win! Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be," he told her.
"Then lets' go, in hope that the Nargles will fight with us!"
Holding hands, the couple hurtled down the stairs of the Astronomy Tower, onto the 7th floor, then down into the Great Hall, their previous worries forgotten.
'Strong as we are united, weak as we are divided', Neville suddenly thought, for no apparent reason, as he hurtled into battle, fighting with a new found energy.