Written for the Letters Challenge.

3 September 2017

Dear Luna,

I'm sorry that I couldn't make it to your wedding.

There, it's out there in the open, plain and blunt as can be. I hope that one day you might be able to forgive me for missing quite possibly the absolute happiest day of your life, but for now I will tolerate the cold shoulder. I do deserve it, after all.

So much for Godric Gryffindor's bravery.

I'm such a coward, aren't I, Luna?

It's been ages since we were at school together and I hardly remember the years very clearly, but that last day of school for us, when we fought in the battle, I think that will stay with me always. I can pull a sword out of the Hat, but I can't make it to your wedding.

I don't know, Luna. Maybe I'm a coward for trivial things.

Maybe I'm afraid of the Nargles and the Wrackspurts.

That could be it. I can hear you suggesting it in my mind.

Somewhere in my mind I know that you won't hold a grudge for my missing your wedding, though I wish you would. I wish you would get angry at me, Luna. Could you shout at me? Tell me that I've been a terrible friend, that I've let you down, that you never want to see me again? It might make me feel better.

Luna, after all these years, why couldn't I have learned something from you? From you, Luna, with your all brilliance. You'd think it'd be contagious. It was, at least, when I was with you.

It had been so long since we'd written when I got the invitation. I'd been expecting it, really. Your father couldn't quit gushing about Rolf in the Quibbler… The magazine still comes once a week, and I still read it every new edition.

I'd opened your invitation, and though it'd said it quite plainly on the front, I'd had half the mind to hope that it was something else. Maybe just a little something from you, doting on your life up there in England, maybe asking about my classes or if I'd seen any Moon Frogs around the Grounds. (I haven't, if you ever wondered. I haven't seen them since the day you showed me them.) And then I read the invitation. It was in your handwriting, that little quick, loopy scrawl, telling me, me directly, that you wanted me to come to your wedding.

I put the letter down, pushed it under a pile of papers, and let myself forget about it.

But I never really forgot. I tried to keep the thoughts there under that pile of papers, but I was plagued with the thought of you every morning when I woke up and every night before I went to sleep.

In my mind, I can still see your bright, glowing face, peaceful and content with a white veil shimmering its way over your blonde hair, falling all the way to your back. But then I tell myself that perhaps your wedding gown wasn't plain or normal like that. I can't even fathom how fascinatingly odd it must have been. You'll have to write me sometime and tell me all about it.

Luna... I remember telling you that after all we'd been through, life would be easy. But is it? After the war, after the grief, after us, what do I have left?

Sometimes I could go for days without finding you somewhere in my mind, but not ever longer than a week. Your presence flits through my thoughts every so often, and there's nothing more I wish to do than...

I'm afraid of saying what I want to, Luna, because I know that the time for that has passed by now. It's too late. Much too late. I know that, obviously, that's why I've said it. But I wish I didn't know... I wish I could pretend like you and I were perfectly fine and everything was perfectly fine and that we could just be happy, like we were when things were perfectly fine.

I remember lying with you in that field, where was it? It seems like just a random field in my memory now. There were flowers everywhere, bright, yellow flowers, and you picked one from the ground and admired all of the petals, running your fingers over its vibrance.

And then I leaned over and kissed you.

I remember you smiling, how your lips tasted sweet like candy, how your eyelashes were so long and blonde, how your hair was like feathers beneath my fingertips. And that look in your eyes, so dreamy and peaceful. I saw myself in those grey irises, drifting off somewhere along the water, floating away without a question in the world.

Luna, the thing is, when I was with you, I never questioned myself. I spent years living as if my life was a plague, and I was ashamed of myself, ashamed to be Neville Longbottom. I was nobody, and I never have been and I never will be, but Luna, you came and taught me that it's okay to not be loved and glorified by the entire world. It's okay to be me, myself, with all of my weakness and all of my mistakes, because that's what makes me myself, and that's what made you love me. Once, a long time ago now.

You kissed me back, that time in the field. I'd have done anything to know what was going through your head then. Did you ever wonder what would happen to us? If we'd stay together, if we'd end up married with bundles of little kids darting around our feet?

But I let you go.

You're a bird, Luna. A beautiful, graceful bird that's lived every day in a cage, longing to soar through the sky and be free. You wanted to travel the world, and I wanted to stay here, where I felt safe. You deserved so much more than me, and I couldn't keep you in your cage forever. I let you go.

We said that after all of this, life would be easy.

I told you that you'd find someone just like yourself, equally loony and wonderful, though probably not as beautiful. You smiled, but it was a sad smile, and you told me the same, that I'd find someone great and that one day we would invite each other to our weddings and have dinner parties and our kids could be the best of friends.

As of yet, I haven't really lived up to par.

I still love you, Luna Lovegood Scamander, and a part of me will always love you because you've allowed me to be who I am.

And that's what scared me. That's why I didn't go to your wedding, because I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to support you or congratulate you the way I wanted to. I wanted to be there, of course, but I didn't want to sit and watch. I wanted to be there with you, holding your hands, promising you forever with the world as our witness.

It's taken me months to write this, to confess to you, to apologize.

I hope you are happy, Luna. I hope you're happier than you've ever been in your life and I hope that that happiness lasts for the rest of it, too.

I am okay. I have no doubt that I'll feel this exact same way for the rest of my existence, but it's not as if it's intolerable. I'm not suffocating, I'm not breaking, I'm not even really unhappy. I'm just a coward. I have been since you left.

I'm getting stronger again, though, and I can feel my courage coming back to me. I can feel it as I stretch my arms in the morning, the way I'm building myself back up again, that tension in my muscles that is relaxing every day.

I only smile when I think of you, Luna, and I hope that I am a similar pleasant thought in your own memories.

Classes started two days ago here, and I as Professor Longbottom have quite a lot of work to do already. I think this will be the end here, but I'd like you to have something back that I've held onto for years. The first letter you ever sent me. Do you remember?

Yours,

Neville Longbottom

P.S. I still go out every night in search of your Moon Frogs.

Tuesday, 9 January 1996

Dear Neville,

I can't thank you more for returning my shoes to me. It seems I've grown accustomed to going about without them, but I'm quite grateful to have them back nonetheless. It's incredibly nice to not have to watch my every step in the dungeons, as I cannot even begin to describe the things that I have stepped in down there.

I hope the Nargles might not bother you now, though. The Nargles tend to be very mischievous little devils and enjoy taking my things, and probably will enjoy pulling at your ears every once in a while now that you've been so kind as to help me out.

I have found, though, that the Nargles can be quite friendly. After a bit, the disappearance of my shoes has become almost something of an intriguing game. I'd never have thought to look for my shoes in the greenhouses, after all. The Nargles truly do like a challenge.

Thank you again. Maybe I should invite you to see the Moon Frogs some night to repay you for your kindness. They happen to be fantastic, my favorites. Perhaps you'll meet me sometime out on the Grounds, after dinner, when it's dark and the moon is bright. They're such shy creatures—very unlike the Nargles—and are easily frightened, so make sure to wear your quietest shoes.

I'm out almost every night if you'd like to join me.

Sincerely,

Luna Lovegood

A/N: Thanks so much for reading!
I've never worked with either of these two - been experimenting with lots of different pairings lately - and I have to say, Neville was definitely very interesting to have a go at. Probably one of my favorite pairs. I was disappointed when him and Luna didn't end up canon, but I do agree with JK Rowling's view on it. Not everyone from school ends up together.
And sometimes, you just need to let your love go FREEEE like a bird :)
Yeah yeah, I like fluff. Sorry if I made any of you gag, hehe.