A/N: Friendship fic about the Snake Slayer and the Loony One. Hope you enjoy it and have a pleasant day.
Disclaimer: All you can see here belongs to J.K Rowling. Yes, even the curtains.
It was always the smell that hit him first. That artificial tang in the air. The soft perfume that could never quite cover the disinfectant. Just the memory of it brought visions of off-white walls and peeling posters to his mind.
This time was different though. The sterile odour that usually washed over Neville as he walked the corridors of St Mungo's was being overpowered by the fruity fragrance that always accompanied the girl walking beside him, humming aimlessly to herself. Neville glanced down at Luna and saw she looked as unaffected by her surroundings as she usually was. Her wide eyes were passing over the information displayed around them, a slight crease in her brow as she took it all in. The warning about an outbreak of dragon pox that winter held her interest just as much as an emergency exit sign.
Neville smiled to himself as they began climbing the stairs that were as familiar to him as the ones at his gran's house. It wasn't until they had arrived that he realised that the decision to bring her here was a good one. He hadn't been sure since he first had the idea and became even more uncertain when he had asked her about it a couple of days ago.
She was closer to him than anyone had ever been. When he was little he had thought that this would be what love was like. All the stories about his mum and dad, they had all mentioned how they were always together. How they were best friends. How the other knew what the other was thinking. It was like that with Luna as much as he supposed it could be, but Neville knew it wasn't love. Not that kind, anyway.
She was special enough to him to be here though.
He could have brought Ginny. She had seen them once before. She would have understood and been kind, but Luna would be Luna. There would be no pitying looks or awkward conversation. That girl could take even the most abnormal situation in her stride and make it seem perfectly normal. It was who she was and Neville loved her for it.
"Are you all right?"
Neville snapped out of his musings to see Luna was smiling at him. He tried to return it the best he could. "Fine."
"You look nervous," she commented, casually nodding to a portrait on the wall that waving at the pair. "Don't be. Hospitals are wonderful places."
"How?" asked Neville bewildered. He stared at his battered trainers as they continued to ascend.
Luna shrugged. "They're where people get better."
Neville glanced at her, frowning. She knew the purpose of this visit and why her statement might have been considered insensitive. She didn't show any sign of it though. If anything she looked bored of the conversation already. "Not everyone gets better, Luna," he said quietly.
"No," she agreed, "but at least in hospital they are never alone. They are always surrounded by strangers who care. You don't find that in many places."
Neville stared at her while she faced the front, her expression as serene as ever. Like always, he could not fault her logic, as twisted as it was. Well, not twisted exactly. She just shone a different light on it to everyone else. It was amazing really, he thought as he held the door to the ward open for her.
As they stepped through it, Neville felt her tiny fingers clasp his hand.
"I hope they like me. A lot of people don't," she worried.
"I like you, Luna," Neville smiled, bumping his shoulder into hers. A year ago he knew he wouldn't have been able to have said that sentence for fear of what people would think. Now it felt natural and he didn't care what rumours started about him and Luna.
"You didn't at first." Luna fixed him with a stare that made Neville uncomfortable. It was probably wasn't intentional, but Luna had never really grasped how the truth didn't always have to be spoken. Or maybe it did and everyone else was wrong? It was one of the reasons he felt so at ease with her after all. You always knew where you stood with Luna.
And right now, he was stood in the middle of a busy hospital corridor, stammering and blushing.
"I-I did," he protested.
Luna looked at him thoughtfully. "I got the impression you were scared of me."
"Well..." Neville said slowly. "Maybe a little."
The words that were meant to explain that he used to be a little scared of everyone he never had the chance to form. He stopped at a very familiar door, healers still bustling around behind them. Luna squeezed his hand.
"Is this it?"
"Yes." Neville's throat was a lot drier than when he spoke before. All he was aware of was Luna's small hand in his clammy one and the white sign that read 'Closed Ward'.
"Shall we go in?" Luna asked. "It's rude to keep them waiting."
He couldn't bring himself to remind her that they had no idea they were coming.
"Um. Yeah"
Steeling himself as he always did, Neville pushed open the door. Healer Joyce looked up at the disturbance and smiled. She placed the clipboard she had been holding on a patient's bedside table and made her way over to him.
"Neville!" she cried as welcoming as she always had been. "I wasn't expecting you today." It was then her eyes fell on Luna. "Oh. I see," she added with playful wink.
"I imagine that comes in useful in your profession, though limits you in others," Luna commented politely to the confusion of the healer.
Neville saw Healer Joyce's kind face fall into a look of confusion and decided to step in before Luna explained herself.
"Luna, this is Healer Joyce," he said, awkwardly gesturing between the two women as Healer Joyce smiled. "Healer Joyce, this is Luna Lovegood."
Healer Joyce nodded in a way that suggested that she knew of the Lovegood's reputation. The two women exchanged greetings and then Healer Joyce turned to Neville. "And I have been telling you to call me Patty for years now, young man," she said sternly. Neville grinned sheepishly and wondered vaguely if she would ever stop talking to him like he was ten years old.
Almost immediately the mock-scowl was gone, replaced by a wide smile as Healer Joyce ushered them into the ward and closed the door behind them. "I always knew I'd be seeing you in here with a pretty young girl, Neville. I guess that Order of Merlin made you even more of a heartbreaker?" she said ruefully.
Neville blanched. "Oh no, Luna isn't my- we're not- I mean-"
"Neville and I have platonic relationship," Luna cut in, unfazed. "Though we are often mistaken otherwise. Funny really, because it would never work between us. He was born in July!"
Healer Joyce opened and closed her mouth several times, as though undecided on whether to ask why this made any difference. Neville decided to save her the headache.
"Where's Professor Lockhart?" he inquired, looking towards his former teacher's bed. It was still surrounded by autographed self-portraits and gifts from fans. The large bouquet on his bedside table was new since the last time Neville had been here.
"Oh, that charmer is out for his walk. He likes it when the other patients recognise him," Healer Joyce chuckled as she collected her clipboard.
Neville nodded even though he was disappointed. Talking to Professor Lockhart was surprisingly nice. It was comforting to know that even after he was injured he remained his usual self.
With Healer Joyce now talking to another patient Neville had no choice but to lead Luna to the curtain that shielded the beds at the end of the ward. For some reason he couldn't meet her eyes or explain why he felt so nervous. He had done this hundreds of times after all. Twice a week before he started Hogwarts and frequently during the breaks after, he had found himself in this room. Usually with his Gran, but sometimes alone. Luna hadn't given him any indication that this was anything out of the ordinary and that was all that kept him walking.
When they were stood directly outside of the curtain, Neville hesitated before turning to look at his friend. Through the years he had pulled back that curtain and found the occupants asleep, or sitting in a comfortable silence. Other times had been less pleasant. When he was younger his gran and the healers would make sure everything was okay before he was allowed to see them so it wasn't until he was almost in his teens that he had seen them throwing tantrums, assaulting the healers or pissing themselves.
It had been shocking and frightening and as a child Neville had had nightmares about it, but now he understood. They were ill. They had bad days. Sometimes they were just as angry and as frustrated with their situation as everyone else was.
He tried to think of a way to warn Luna. With Healer Joyce here he doubted anything was going to happen, but he had seen them turn quickly before. There were no words that came to him that didn't make him sound embarrassed of them because he wasn't. It was just that he knew if they had a bad day and he saw any kind of revulsion on Luna's face, no matter how involuntary, he would never quite forgive her.
"Neville?" she said tentatively after he had spent a good thirty second just looking at her. "It will be okay. They're your parents. Of course they want to hear your news."
Neville smiled as a flash of pride went through him. This was Luna. He doubted she had ever judged anyone in her life. With a heavy sigh, he pulled back the curtain and allowed her to step through before him. He followed her through before pulling it closed again.
When he was sure that they had privacy, Neville turned to see his dad was sat on one of the chairs by his mum's bed, wearing the light blue pyjamas he always did. He looked over at the pair of them, his thin face slightly blank and cocked his head to the side. His mother showed no sign of knowing there was anyone else in the room.
Neville moved forward and pulled a chair out for Luna to sit on. As he did so, his dad's face broke into a wide smile and he waved at them enthusiastically.
"Good afternoon, Mr Longbottom," Luna said cheerily, waving back at him as she sat down.
His dad continued waving.
Neville looked at his mum and found she was now looking at him, smiling vacantly. Parts of his life had been spent hating that smile and then hating himself in return. Everyone else got so much more. What Neville wouldn't do for a simple hello, things the other kids didn't think were anything special. Now he was older he had accepted that this was as far as parental affection would ever go for him. It was the best he was ever going to get and he should be grateful. Her smile was all his mother could give him and she did so every time she saw him.
Well, nearly every time.
"Hi, Mum," Neville said softly. He returned her smile and hoped she understood.
"Hello, Mrs Longbottom," Luna said politely. "I'm Neville's friend, Luna."
His mum continued smiling at Neville as though no one else had spoken.
Guilty memories of Luna talking about her mother came to Neville as his watched her greet his parents. Luna had less than he did now. Of course, she still had memories she could seek out when she needed her mother, memories of not just smiles, but hugs and laughter and words. The dull ache of jealousy was back. Neville tried to suppress it. He didn't want his parents dead. Even on the darkest of days he was glad they were still here, that they didn't give in.
Lestrange and the others were dead and gone. His mum was still smiling.
Back in the hospital ward, Luna, apparently unoffended by his mother's ignorance, turned to his dad. "How are you today, Mr Longbottom?"
For a moment Neville's father gazed at Luna before holding out an apple core to her.
"Is this a gift?" she asked, her large eyes shining with gratitude.
His dad nodded as she took the fruit from him. Luna wrapped it carefully in a tissue from her bag before placing it inside. Once she was convinced she had found a secure place for it she rummaged around until she pulled out an empty peppermint toad box.
"Thank you very much, Mr Longbottom," she enthused. "There is a shelf in my bedroom that really needs an ornament like this." After she had popped a dent out of the cardboard box and closed the lid, Luna handed it to Neville's dad. "I hope this token shows how happy I am to be meeting you."
His dad put the box on his bedside table, next to a picture of Neville from his Order of Merlin ceremony, with a vague nod. This was enough for Luna who smiled broadly.
As the two teens placed their jackets and bag on the backs of the worn chairs, Neville wondered if there was anyone else who laughed and smiled with the same abandon as Luna. Most people held back, as though others would judge their joy. Luna showed the world what she thought, her heart on her sleeve as always.
"Well," Neville began hesitantly. Normally he would talk openly to his parents even if they weren't really listening. He would tell them about his job and his friends and he thought sometimes they took some of it in. With Luna here, he felt self-conscious. He glanced at her and saw she was patiently waiting for him to continue.
"So I-I am fully qualified at work now. It took a while for me to get my potions up to scratch but I'm a full Auror now. No more trainee." He finished his story of over a year's hard work with a weak chuckle. Everyone else has passed weeks ago, but Neville had been determined to catch up. Even now reciting the story filled him with unfamiliar pride.
When he had told Harry and Ron they had cheered and dragged him to the pub to celebrate. His Gran had even cried – something Neville couldn't remember ever seeing before.
His father nodded when he had finished speaking, while his mother had started placing pieces of bubblegum in neat rows halfway through.
His smile faltered and Neville cursed himself for foolishly thinking anything else would happen. When he was younger he always hoped that this trip to St Mungo's would be the one where the healers would have found a cure. When he accepted this wouldn't happen, he expected to see a gradual improvement each visit. He would never tell his gran, but he would walk to the ward thinking this time they will recognise me, this time will be different.
But, of course, it never was. Over the years he watched the other patients in the ward recover and leave, only to be replaced others who would soon follow them. As a regular visitor, they would get to know him and talk to him as much as the healers did. He would smile and make polite conversation while inside he almost resented them. How did they get better? Why did they go from not knowing who he was to asking after his gran when his own parents didn't know his name?
He knew he shouldn't, that he should be happy for these people, but Neville couldn't help it sometimes. He just couldn't be strong enough every time.
"So… yeah. That's the big news," he finished weakly. His dad was still nodding. Neville wished he would stop.
"Isn't it wonderful?" Luna chirped up. "He came highest in his survival skills class as well. The others would all end up eating poisonous berries and taking shade under carnivorous vines, but Neville knows his plants. I leant him my book about dangerous species in the Amazon. It isn't Ministry approved of course," she added with a hint of disapproval. "They want to keep those species a secret seeing as they were one of their experiments gone wrong. I, however, felt it was important that Neville knew about them."
When she had finished, Luna beamed at Neville and he felt himself blush, almost able to feel her pride. The book she had lent him had been practically useless (admittedly they had been entertaining) but Luna really had supported him through the difficult process. By rights he should never have even been allowed into the training programme. His part in the battle and the DA were the only things that had got him a place and he had nearly turned it down. Luna and Ginny had convinced him he could really do it.
"Your son will be a brilliant Auror, Mr and Mrs Longbottom," Luna told them, her soft voice brimming with pride.
As Neville stammered something about how average he was and how everyone was better than him – because they really were – Luna glanced from his mum to his dad and back again. Neither of them was paying any attention.
"Excuse me? Mr and Mrs Longbottom?" Luna scowled at the two adults and they looked at her as though interested in her change of tone. "Neville has done something incredible. He is really proud and you should be too."
"Luna-" Neville began before Luna interrupted. He was almost glad. He really didn't know what he was going to say.
"I know this is hard for you," she continued softly, "but Neville really looks up to you and he would appreciate it if you showed him how happy you are for him."
Neville didn't know what to say. Before they had left his house he had explained how they wouldn't know him, how they didn't understand who he was or who she was, so that this wouldn't happen. He had explained how they couldn't really talk or understand what was going on. And yet, here she was, telling them off for not listening. Their unenthusiastic response had been the best Neville had been hoping for. Some visits his dad would babble whenever he tried to speak and he had just been happy about being able to tell them at all.
"Luna," he almost whispered when his parents were still staring at her intently, "it's okay. They – they don't understand. I'm used to-" He trailed off when he saw his dad pick up the photo of him on his bedside table.
Frank Longbottom, a crease between his eyebrows, gazed at the picture of Neville nervously shaking hands with Kingsley for a long time before looking at the real life version in front of him. The two men held each other's eyes for what felt like a year to Neville as the rest of the room fell away. Even though he knew that he was making it up, part of Neville still thought he could see a glimpse of recognition lost somewhere in his dad's otherwise vacant expression. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to think such things.
Slowly his dad rose to his feet and padded over to the other side of the bed where Neville and Luna were sitting, jabbing his finger against the glass of the photo frame. He pointed at Neville and held the picture up to show them.
"Yeah," Neville croaked, unaware that he had stopped breathing a while ago. "Yeah, Dad, that's me."
The words seemed to take a while to reach his dad and he didn't understand them when they did, but something about the picture or Neville made his haggard face split into a wide grin. Stunned, Neville watched as his dad excitedly pointed at him, occasionally trying to get his mum's attention to share his discovery.
Telling himself that he simply recognised he was the person from the photo he saw every day and not his son who had been visiting him for seventeen years, Neville stood and began guiding his dad back to his bed. The healers usually had to ask him to leave when his dad became too exuberant and disturbed the other patients. As Neville put his arm around his dad's waist, noting that he was now taller than him, his dad reached out to stroke his hair.
His hands were bony and he wasn't exactly being gentle but this gesture had always been a sign of affection from his dad. There had only been a handful of times Neville could remember it happening before. Even after he had pulled back the covers of his dad's bed and helped him into it, his dad was still patting his head.
"There you go, Dad," he whispered. Hearing the catch in his voice, Neville roughly scrubbed his face before tucking his dad in and putting the photo back on the table. Straight away his dad reached for it again and placed it gently on his pillow.
Speechless, Neville wrapped his arms gently around his dad as to not scare him. When he didn't back away from him, Neville gave him a slight squeeze.
"Thanks, Dad," he whispered, his throat burning. Very aware that Luna was could see him, Neville buried his head into his dad's shoulder and closed his eyes tightly. It was then that his dad awkwardly hugged him back and Neville couldn't have stopped a tear falling if he had tried.
Shortly afterwards his dad grew tired of the moment and Neville was forced to let go and watch him pull his covers over his head. Sniffing, he made his way back to his seat where Luna immediately held his hand again. He nodded his thanks to her, unable to do much more, and stared at the floor.
It meant nothing, he told himself. He doesn't know. He doesn't understand. Don't get your hopes up. You know what happens when you do.
Lost in his battle for self-control, it took a couple of tugs on his shirt for him to notice his mum was trying to get his attention. He looked up and saw the face that so resembled his smiling as she held out her hand for him. With shaking hands, Neville reached out and took the proffered piece of bubblegum from her and stared at it.
Every visit she would give him a wrapper from her favourite treat and he had kept them all. His gran had never understood why and had tried to throw them away multiple times, but Neville had always managed to hold onto them. She only ever gave them to him. They were just bits of rubbish to everyone else. To Neville they were the only sign that his mum recognised that he was different to other people.
This time, for the first time in his life, she had given him the gum as well.
The tears were there before he could hope to stop them.
Biting his bottom lip so he could keep it together, Neville gradually lifted his gaze to his mum. Through the veil of tears he could just about make out her smile and he let out a watery laugh as he returned it.
"See?" Luna said kindly, rubbing his arm. "I told you they were proud of you."
The damn burst and Neville buried his face in his hands, shaking with the effort of trying to regain composure. It was a lost cause and he knew it. Luna did too as she silently put an arm around him, letting him know she was there but not intruding. He wanted nothing more than to thank her for coming with him, for being his best friend and the truly amazing person she was and that he was as sure as he could be that his parents liked her, but his throat has closed up and his words could never do the sentiment justice. It didn't matter – it was Luna. She knew. She always knew.
Through the gaps in his fingers Neville could see the tiny pink and yellow package resting in his lap. He'd been given medals and plaques, been hounded by the press and girls, since the events of last May, but none of it, not one second, could hope to compare to a pat on the head and a piece of gum. Neville knew he would treasure this moment forever, lock it away in his memories so even the onslaught of time and age couldn't take it from him. He just hoped his parents understood on some level that it meant everything to him, just as they did and always would.