"They're calling me a hero, mum. Mum-" the overgrown boy was interrupted by a small witch holding a clipboard, "Sorry," she said giving an apologetic smile to the weary boy, his tired eyes and scarred face leaving him looking less boyish than she remembered, "I'm afraid visiting hours are over, dear." The boy looked up, and frowned slightly, then gathering his bag and several candy wrappers, he stoop up, kissed the top of his mothers head, and hugged his frazzled father, "I'll be back tomorrow if you like." He said quietly, and his mother pressed another candy into his palm.
Outside St. Mungo's, life seemed to continue as normal as Neville stepped out of the old building, people rushed about with boxes and packages and briefcases, hurrying off to their busy busy lives.
They called me a hero, Neville thought, a hero. But what for? For killing a snake? For being brave when everyone thought he was just the lonely boy with too many jumpers? For helping Harry? For-
A flash of white blonde appeared through the throng of people, like lightning but friendlier, with blurred edges. A pale face followed, consumed with wide, swirling eyes. Magical eyes. And then a body, small and lithe, yet soft. A blush colored jumper. Radishes. A strange charm dangling low on a fine chain.
Luna.
"Hello, Neville," her twinkling sweet voice washed over him like a tidal wave of pop, he could feel the fizzing deep in his belly under the blue shirt he wore. "Fancy seeing you here." She commented, cocking her head slightly as if there was something she knew. Something he didn't. Maybe that was why she fascinated him so. She knew things, saw things, that he couldn't possibly imagine. "Neville?" She asked, "Sorry, lost in thought I suppose." She smiled gently "It's ok, I do that too. Were you visiting your parents?" He nodded slowly, it wasn't something he liked to talk about, he didn't want people to pity him. They called him a hero. A hero whose parents don't even know who he is, or who will never say, "You've been so brave, darling."
"They're calling you a hero," she continued, "You think so?" She nodded and and Neville softly shook his head, "I'm not. I just killed a snake. I'm not brave. I'm not strong." Luna's big, pale eyes locked on his, "Don't fool yourself, Neville, only one who is true of heart is able to draw the sword of Griffendor out of the Hat. You are the bravest person I know, standing up to You-Kn... Voldemort." She choked out his name like it still hurt, Neville looked at Luna, eyes glistening, "You're not just saying that? Because I just got finished visiting my cursed parents? Because I-"
She cut him off, silencing his worried words with the lightest kiss as if she could break him if she pushed too hard. "You are a true hero. You're good and kind and brave, and I like you Neville." So Neville kissed her back, and all of the feelings he had felt for her in the past seven years rushed through his lips. "Tea?" She asked, sounding a little lighter than usual. And with her hand grasped firmly in his own, he felt brave.
She called me a hero.