Author's notes: This is a rehash of a story I started years ago, and feel that I should somehow continue. To anyone who was reading that story, I apologise for the excessive wait in anything happening with it. Please review with any feedback.

Disclaimer: Obviously this is not my world, but that of J.K. Rowling's that I have taken liberty with.

Prologue

Neville pushed the gate of the white picket fence open, and stepped onto the Potters' property, basking in the warmth of the mid-summer sun. Decorations hung from the door, bright colours that clashed with the natural greens of the Potters' gardens, and Neville smiled at the banner declaring it to be James Potter's 1st Birthday Party. It was going to be a small affair, he was informed, close family and friends only, and he doubted James would particularly remember it in years to come, but he was happy to be along anyway. And besides, he had managed to stammer through an invitation to Luna Lovegood to be his plus one (despite the fact that she was invited already). She had blushed - highly unusual behaviour for Luna - and patted his arm gently.

"That'd be very nice Neville," she had said, positively glowing.

He watched her practically glide around in the garden next to him, the warm air lifting her summer dress to reveal her pale legs. She was wearing her usual dreaming expression, the one which Neville had come to associate with her innate Luna-ness, the general oddity that was her life. It had taken about three years, and the slaying of a giant snake, to finally get used to the way she acted. He grinned at her, and she glided back over to his side, leaning against his side and smiled up at him. Luna and he were in that awkward stage where they liked each other, knew they should be seeing each other, had been told that they should be seeing each other by everyone they knew, and yet still were distinctly 'just friends'. Perhaps that would change on this fine summer afternoon, he thought to himself.

He looked up at the house and remembered the day, over a year ago, when he had visited the newly built Potter home. Harry had insisted that it be built without using magic, to everyone's total disgust, something about how he always felt uneasy living in houses that looked like they could topple over with a small sneeze. The house lay in the large clearing of a forest in the Cotswolds, looking as though it had simply sprung up out of the meadow with that years batch of flowers. Neville had come across Harry whitewashing the picket fence, looking red in the face from the sun.

"Why not just magic the wood white?" he had asked, sipping at the cool lemonade that Ginny had brought out to them both.

"Home is where the heart is, Neville. I plan to put a lot of heart into this place," Harry had informed him, looking very much like he was imparting some sage piece of advice. Neville had done his best to nod along - Harry's post-Voldemort life had baffled some, those who perhaps had not known him that well. Repeating his final year at Hogwarts (without the constant peril), getting a job at the Ministry (in the Auror department - some things were hard to outgrow), and getting engaged to Ginny Weasley (although rumour was that Molly Weasley was slightly upset that they were getting married so young).

"I…see," Neville had said.

"My house has to be a home, Neville. It's important to me," Harry had said, sounding an awful lot like the previous headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Well…okay then," Neville had said, giving up. He received a wink for his troubles.

He opened the backdoor into the Potters' kitchen, smiling as he felt Luna's tiny hands around his waist. Today, he decided, today he would tell her how he felt. Of course, he always said that, every day that he saw her and even some he didn't, but he never had so far. Still, today felt good. There were two figures sat around the kitchen table, sipping at cool looking drinks whilst a third was attempting to cook.

"Here they are!" Ginny Potter exclaimed, engulfing Luna in a hug.

"You're late mate. Hermione was all for sending out a search party…" Ron said, smirking as Hermione cuffed him round the back of the head with the hand that wasn't being used to cut vegetables.

"The party's outside Neville," Hermione said, half-glaring at Ron, half-smiling with him "We're just trying to get the food sorted before Molly has a fit,"

"I wonder if she's been affected by wrack spurts," Luna wondered aloud in her usual dreamy voice. Neville's stomach made a swooping sensation at the mention of the creature that he'd come to hear so much about, the same sensation that he'd come to associate with Luna in general.

"Nah, she's always like that," Ron muttered under his breath. Neville stifled a laugh and stepped outside, still hearing Hermione's loud exclamation at her husband. He spotted Harry having what looked like a very in depth conversation with Kingsley Shacklebolt, the seriousness of which was spoiled slightly by the fact that he had James sat atop his shoulders like some kind of miniature jockey. Harry nodded gravely, and Neville could tell he was merely feigning interest out of politeness to the Minister of Magic. A second later, the eldest Potter moved away, looking very glad to see his friend. Neville grinned at the child on his back.

"Here he is, the birthday boy," Neville said as Harry swung his son down from his back and into his arms. James giggled.

"And what do we say James?" Harry asked, positively beaming.

"Da!" the baby exclaimed, waving a podgy fist. Neville chuckled.

"Smart lad, isn't he?" he said as Luna tickled the child's belly with a slender finger. James made a gurgling sound in delight.

"He has your eyes," Luna noted dreamily.

"I know," Harry said, and Neville thought he detected a note of pride in his friend's voice.

Neville spent the rest of the evening making conversation with the various guests to the Potter abode. He had an interesting chat with Hagrid about how some of the wildlife in the Forbidden Forrest had broken into one of Professor Sprout's newly renovated greenhouses and had decimated the latest batch of Crying Chrysanthemums. Molly Weasley was convinced that he'd lost too much weight since she'd last seen him, to the hilarity of many of the men around her. As the sun set over the sleepy garden, Ginny brought out a large chocolate cake with a single candle in the middle. The group was roused into a rousing chorus of 'Happy Birthday' led by Hagrid, who was simultaneously sniffing into a large purple handkerchief.

"It's all quite beautiful, isn't it?" Luna said, as the pair of them sat on the grass in the fading light, looking up at the sky.

"I think so," Neville said sincerely, looking directly at her orb-like eyes. She blushed, the second time he had ever seen her do so, and dropped her gaze.

"I've got something to tell you," she mumbled, still looking at the green grass that lay underneath them.

"What is it?" he asked. Adrenaline started flushing through his system. This was it, this was the start of the wonderful affair that they had all been waiting for, this would be the kick start his life needed following the war. This would be him and Luna, together.

"I'm leaving," she whispered.

It hung there for a second, the words between them, separating them. There was a chill in the air, and he felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. No, no, it wasn't meant to happen like this. Not like this at all.

"W-w-where?" he spluttered. He was panicking, he hardly ever stumbled over his words anymore. He felt an awful mix of flushed cheeks and cold dread. She moved away from him, stood up.

"I have to go," she breathed "I have to see things, you understand don't you Neville?"

He felt his heart beating like a jackhammer, and he moved slowly towards her, like one would a frightened animal.

"Luna," he whispered "Please,"

"I have to go," she said, more to herself than to him this time. This seemed to resolve it for her, and she turned, walking brusquely towards the white picket gate. Neville followed her, still not in complete control of his speech. The rest of the party faded, he was aware of it all going ahead around him, but he only had eyes for the young woman with the dirty blonde hair walking away from him.

"Luna, wait!" he shouted, running towards her. She was outside the gate now, and she half-turned on the spot, was half-gone.

"Luna, I love you!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. She froze on the spot, her big blue eyes focusing on his.

"I'm sorry,"

It was so quiet that he was sure no one else heard it but him. And then, with an audible pop, she was gone.