A/N: Random idea I had. I just had to do it, I suppose.
-----------
Forever Hold Your Peace
-----------
He shifted in his dress robes.
Holy shit.
He was getting married. He, Neville Longbottom, was getting married!
He looked out at the sea of people. Everyone was present. His Gran, Harry Potter, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, Hermione Granger, everyone he had ever called a friend. Except...
...with a twinge of regret, he looked towards the woman standing across from him, clasping his hand tightly.
"Neville, pay attention," she muttered.
He nodded.
"If anyone should object to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace," the little man in black read off.
For a moment, there was silence.
The doors of the large hall they were in burst open, and a figure sprinted into the hall.
"I object!" she shouted, her straggly dirty-blond hair falling into her face, she was not dressed formally like everyone else in the room, on the contrary, she looked like she had just been playing in a garden. Her hands fell limply to her side and she gave Neville a vague (but oddly sad) smile.
Neville stared at her, glassy eyed. "Luna..."
Unconsciously, he let go of his girlfriend's hand and started down the narrow isle between rows of seats.
"What are you doing?" he asked the younger girl quietly.
"I object..." she told him.
Without conscious thought, he leaned down and kissed her. Something he hadn't done since he was 17, his hands found hers and he pulled away. "Why didn't you say anything else?"
"I hadn't thought of anything else to say," she admitted.
Neville looked around, various people were beaming, his Gran was frowning, though.
His (former) girlfriend/fiancee/almost wife was crying. He felt guilty.
"If you'd rather..." she started, gesturing to the crying woman.
He shook his head. "Not at all," he replied, kissing her again.