I think this might be my favourite oneshot I've written. I like "News" for humor and everything, but I enjoy musical love.
I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's characters. J.K. does. Also...I really wanted this to be longer. Maybe I'll write a sequel, maybe not.
"Know where you're going, Longbottom?" Malfoy sneered at Neville in the hallway. "Or do you need directions from a better, smarter pureblood?"
Neville ignored it and walked on. The weekly harassments from Malfoy he could take, because at the end of the day, he could slip away into the Room of Requirement and escape everything. School, bullies, professors. The Room was whatever he needed.
He made sure to lose Malfoy at the fifth floor by using a passageway Harry had shown him a couple of days ago. When he was on the seventh floor, the only sound he could hear was his own footfalls, echoing in the corridor. As he neared the Room, however, a new noise reached his ears. It was...beautiful, and that was an understatement. The sound tinkled lightly in his ears, making his heart want to leap out of his chest. He recognised notes...piano notes, that floated in the air and made him stop in his tracks. Neville peered around the corner to spot a door in the same spot as the Room. It was just a door, as if it was just an ordinary broom closet. But the music was emanating from it, and it drew Neville closer. His steps became silent as he strained to hear the tune. Slowly, but surely, he lightly pushed on the door, hoping that it wouldn't creak. Luckily, no sound came from the wooden door, so that nothing disrupted the music.
The Room had become the size of a classroom, with a grand piano in the middle, atop a red and golden rug. The pianist was facing away from him, towards the balcony on the far wall. The curtains swayed to the breeze, seemingly in time with the music. Nothing adorned the walls except for a few lanterns. However, the day was bright, and there was no need for the extra light. Neville stared at the pianist, who seemed oblivious to his presence. Her hair cascaded in light blonde waves down her back, and an odd smell arrived at Neville's nose. The pianist was pressing on the pedals with bare feet, each note being played for a reason, each key hit with a fervor one could only describe as determination. But there was also a beauty to her music making, something that couldn't be taught or learned. It was unbridled passion, such hope and desire to create sounds to enchant the soul and clear the mind. Although Neville desperately wanted to hear more, he had to make sure his guess was true.
"Luna...?" Neville ventured softly, hoping not to scare the player. Unfortunately, she bolted straight up, knocking over her bench and ending the song with a rather foul sounding chord. There was no mistaking her, though; it was indeed Luna Lovegood.
"Neville..." she said, although her voice somewhat lacked it's usual dreamy tone. "I wasn't expecting anyone...was I that loud? I'm sorry."
"No-no, you weren't," Neville stammered. Luna had a way of making him feel uncomfortable. "Luna...it was the most wonderful thing I've ever heard." Luna's gaze turned to him, her silvery blue eyes beginning to wet.
"You don't mean that. But...was it really as wonderful as you say?" Luna asked, almost scared to hear rejection.
"Better," Neville assured. Luna smiled, causing Neville to rub the back of his head sheepishly.
"Would you like to learn?" asked Luna. Neville's eyes returned to her. Her normally unreadable eyes showed honesty, hope, and excitement. Neville knew he was horrible at everything except for Herbology, and he didn't really want to make a fool of himself in front of Luna. After a thought or two, he sighed, picking up the fallen bench.
"I'd like that," he answered. The corners of Luna's mouth twitched upward, and she clapped her hands together.
"Wonderful," she said happily. They sat on the piano bench, side by side, Luna on the left, Neville on the right. She took his right hand and pressed a key in the middle of the piano. "That's a C," she told him. And so they went up the scale, Neville learning the notes and Luna teaching him chords. He had to admit, she was quite a good teacher, and an even better pianist.
"Luna, really, you don't have to do this," Neville said after he had mistakenly played 'Mary Had a Little Lamb.' Luna looked at him fondly.
"I want to," she whispered. Neville immediately became aware of how quiet the room was, with no music in the air and the wind itself also seemed to have been silenced.
"Luna-"
"Here's an F major chord," Luna interrupted, grabbing his hand and pressing the keys. He felt a surge of warmth flood his body and knew he had to continue his sentence.
"Luna, we've been friends for a while right?" he mumbled, slowly building up the confidence to speak. Luna didn't directly look at him, but she nodded, easing his fingers onto the keys.
"Well, I l-l-like you Luna. I-I like you a lot," Neville stammered. "And, er...I was wondering if you wanted to do something-"
"Friday would be nice." Neville stared at her.
"So, you, um, want to go out with me?"
"Friday will be the next lesson. Then maybe we can walk in the Herbology greenhouses afterwards."
Neville smiled. Somehow, if his life was a piano, he felt the song was a melody.