So,this is my first fanfic about the couple that should have place in Neville's sixth year & Luna's fifth.I love this couple so much,and I was really bummed when they didn't happen in the books,but ecstatic when they happened in the movies!This is also a lot about Neville's inner struggle with his parents & Bellatrix & why he was in Gryffindor & all that ,here we go!

Neville dipped his quill into his inkwell and started a new sentence of his Charms essay. It was really hard, and Charms had never been Neville's strong point. He sighed as he finished the sentence he was working on, and decided to take a break. He replaced his quill in his inkwell, and looked around at what was going on around him in the library. Dean Thomas was over in a corner with Ginny Weasley, who was clearly trying to simply get some work done. Hannah Abbot was at the front desk, and it looked like she was arguing with Madam Pince about checking out an excess number of books. Ernie Macmillan was over at the table to Neville's left, arguing with Zacharias Smith. Then Neville's eyes wandered over to the table to the right of him.

Luna Lovegood was sitting next to her new boyfriend, Michael Corner. Somehow Neville's eyes always made it back to her. She had gotten close to Michael last year. When Cho defended her friend, Marietta, for telling the DA about Umbridge, Cho became quite unpopular. Ravenclaws still talked to her, but Gryffindors, who had never really liked her in the first place, completely shunned her. Slytherins hated anyone who wasn't a Slytherin. Hufflepuffs, the House of the Fair, while being understanding of why Cho defended Marietta, still could not excuse Cho's behavior. The whole of the DA refused to talk to her, except for Michael and Luna. Michael had always been a friend of Cho, and Luna, always the caring one, took pity on her. So the three became close last year, and Cho had started to date Michael. But that hadn't worked out. So Luna and Michael had started dating.

Neville watched as Michael got up from the table and walked over to Madam Pince. He handed her a note, and Neville watched as Madam Pince led him to the back of the library. He assumed that she was leading him to the restricted section. Neville looked back over at Luna. She was alone at the table now, her brows furrowed. Now was his chance to walk over to that table and talk to her. But instead, Neville just sighed and turned back to his essay.

Neville wondered if he would ever find a clique. Everyone at Hogwarts had one. There was Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were inseparable. Fred and George had been even more inseparable when they had went to Hogwarts, but they had also hung out with Lee Jordan, and, well, everybody. Oliver Wood, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet had always been together, except when Wood was strategizing or reminding the Gryffindor Quidditch team of new tactics. Ginny was insanely popular; Neville guessed she had some of the same DNA as Fred and George. Even Luna had someone, and she'd always been counted as an oddball, just like Neville. Which is why Neville and Luna had also become close last year in DA and at the Ministry. She'd been a friend. Which is why Neville had thought at the end of last year and on the train ride this year that maybe, just maybe-

But no, Michael had swept Luna up, and Neville was left in the dark again, with no one to turn to. True, people had been treating Neville differently this year. He was getting a lot more respect and appreciation because of what had happened at the Ministry last year. For example, McGonagall had given him the first compliment she'd ever paid him. But he still didn't have a friend, just more respect. He thought back to the first year, all the way back to getting his letter-

Gran had been so happy. She had said she'd been convinced he was a Squib. She had immediately gotten out his dad's old wand and said they needed to go to Diagon Alley straightaway. Neville was exhilarated when he first saw all the sights he'd never seen before, the sights he'd only been told about and had dreamt about for so long. The owls, the broomsticks, the wizards and witches using their wands. So many sounds and smells. Neville hadn't known where to look first! It had all been so exciting. He'd gotten Trevor, his toad, his cauldron, and all his spell books. It had been the happiest day of his life.

Then Gran had run through the barrier between platforms 9 & 10 with him, and he saw all the kids he'd be going to school with. They'd passed one kid with dreadlocks who had been walking around with a large box, and once, Neville had caught a glimpse of a long, hairy leg emerging from it. He'd lost Trevor three times on the platform, and had struggled getting his trunk onto the train. When the train pulled away, Neville had watched Gran wave goodbye until the train had turned a corner and the platform was out of sight. He'd then lost Trevor again, and that's when he had met Hermione. When he was nearly in tears over Trevor, she'd volunteered to help. They hadn't found him, but she had been the first magical person he'd been in contact with that was his age.

Then all the first years had gone in the boats, and Neville had gotten Trevor back from Hagrid, who'd found him, and they were soon at Hogwarts. Neville had gotten out of the boat he'd been sharing with Harry, Ron, and Hermione and they'd all gone up to the castle's large, front, oak doors. They'd met McGonagall, who, at first sight, Neville had thought that it was not a good thing to be on her bad side. They'd been sorted, and Neville had watched as Hermione became a Gryffindor, as well as Seamus Finnigan. Then, it was Neville's turn. He'd gone up, shaking and trembling, more scared than he had been in his whole life. When he'd sat on the stool and McGonagall had put the hat on his head, he could barely think. He wanted to be in Hufflepuff, where he would be safe. The safe house, the safe thing, that was what Neville had always done. Never taken a risk, and he was never going to. That's how he knew he at least would never in Gryffindor. That was the most terrifying thing in Neville's mind at that moment. Gryffindor, where dwell the brave of heart. He wasn't good enough. He never would be, so the Hat would never put him there. So at least he hadn't had to worry about that (or, at least, he'd thought he hadn't had to worry about that...). He'd been so scared, so very scared. Then he'd heard the Sorting Hat speak in his head-

" Oh, too easy. So much courage inside. Deep down, yes, but so much. He'll do great. Amazing. A true hero. Only a few see it. Not even he does. But he has it. He's brave. At the heart, where it counts. So easy. Well, then, this has been fun, but I'm gonna' let you go now. 'Guess you're a..."

Neville hadn't believed what he was hearing. The Hat was saying he had courage, that he was brave! It must be malfunctioning. He couldn't let the Hat make this mistake. It would ruin his time at Hogwarts! Forever in the wrong House. The outcast, the oddball, the weird one. He couldn't let that happen. He'd always dreamed of Hogwarts. He couldn't let it be ruined by this. Not by some stupid Hat. He couldn't let it happen, he wouldn't let it happen!

NO! He'd shouted in his head.

A pause. Then the Sorting hat had said in a deathly voice, "What? What's this?"

You're wrong, Neville had responded. I know what you're thinking of doing, and you're completely wrong. I don't belong in Gryffindor. I'm not brave at all. I'm not a Gryffindor! Neville had been scared of what would happen to him for arguing with the Hat. In the back of his mind, he'd known this was silly. Only the Hat could hear his thoughts, and the Hat couldn't do anything to him. But he'd still been scared. This was all so new, so strange, so unknown. He'd felt like he was taking the biggest chance of his life.

The Hat had said," You dare tell me I'm wrong? I've been doing this for centuries, boy, I've never been wrong. So, as I was saying-"

It was gonna' say it. That last word, Gryffindor. But no, that wasn't gonna' happen to him. Not on his watch. No, he'd thought again, but more firmly this time. You're wrong. I belong in Hufflepuff. I don't have any courage. I'm scared. I'm a Hufflepuff. I'm...I'm...

"A loser," The Hat had finally said. Another pause. "Boy, I hope you realize it doesn't matter what you consciously think. I can still hear your subconscious."Neville had gulped. He had begun to plead.

Please. I can't deal with that pressure. I can't live up to that reputation.

Yet another pause. Then the Hat had begun to speak in a gentler tone, or at least as gentle as the Hat could be."Longbottom's your name, isn't it?"Neville hadn't responded. "Kid, if I'm correct-and I'm never wrong-You have a lot more to live up to than a House." Neville had swallowed hard then. He couldn't let people see him cry. Not here. Not in front of all the people at Hogwarts. His future classmates. He was not going to cry here. "And you're braver than you know. Not crying, even though I've touched the most sensitive subject in your world. And, you didn't even realize that you were standing up to me, the ancient Hogwarts Sorting Hat, who no one has ever said no to. Who no one has ever argued with. You think that doesn't take courage?"Silence. Neville hadn't known what to say. He was thinking, mulling this over, confused. Then, before he could form another thought...

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Hat had finally shouted it. And the Hat's decision was final, Neville knew that. So that was done. His years at Hogwarts were going to be horrible. He realized, as he walked to a seat at the Gryffindor table while surrounding Gryffindors had screamed like mad, that he had never expected to win the argument with the Hat. The Hat's first impulse was always the one it went with, and it was always right. Except for Neville. Neville was the only exception, he knew that. But there was no going back now, no changing it. At least he'd gone down with a fight.

Then he'd realized the whole hall was laughing at him. He'd forgotten to take off the Sorting Hat! He ran back up to the stool and gave it to the next kid, then returned to Gryffindor table. He'd sat down next to Hermione, the only person he'd known, and listened to the surrounding Gryffindors cheer. He'd looked up at the staff table, and saw Professor Dumbledore giving him a strange look. He was smiling, but it also seemed he was lost in thought, caught in a flashback, looking at Neville like he was different...almost like he was someone...important. Gran had told Neville that Dumbledore was an amazing wizard, the best. So then why was he looking at Neville like that? Had he done something wrong already? Was he doomed?

But then Dumbledore turned his gaze back to the next first year being Sorted, and Neville shook it off. He watched as Harry, Dean Thomas, and Ron all became Gryffindors. He saw Draco Malfoy become a Slytherin. He watched as Ernie Macmillan became a Hufflepuff. Then, soon enough, it was time for the feast. Neville listened as Seamus told about how his mom didn't tell his dad that she was a witch until after they were married, and laughed along with everyone else. He stared as Nearly Headless Neck almost detached his head from his neck, but not quite. Then Dumbledore made his speech, and Fred and George finished the Hogwarts school song in a slow funeral march tune. Then it was time to go to bed, and everyone hurried to the doors, shepherded by the prefects. Neville had turned back when he'd reached the door. Dumbledore was giving him that look again, and Neville couldn't figure it out. He wasn't in trouble. He could tell that now. He hadn't done anything wrong. But then what did the look mean?

He'd wondered about many things that year. Why had he been put in Gryffindor? What did the Sorting Hat know about him that no one else did, not even himself? What did that look mean? Why was he so bad at magic? The first year was a complete blur, except for the beginning and end. Standing up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Then the End-Of-Year Feast.

At the feast, when Gryffindor and Slytherin had been tied for first, Neville was on the edge of his seat, just like everyone else in the Great Hall. If only Harry, Ron, or Hermione had gotten just one more point-

"And finally, there are all kinds of courage," Dumbledore was saying."It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Neville had sat in shock, not quite comprehending the words. Then it had hit him. He'd won them the House Cup. He, Neville Longbottom, had won Gryffindor the House Cup! He couldn't believe it. The cheers were insane. Neville couldn't take it in. He just stared up at Dumbledore, who was smiling benevolently down at him. People were piling onto him; he couldn't tell who was who. He didn't care what Gran would say, he was happy that he'd done it, by himself, for himself, Neville Longbottom. It was the happiest moment of his life, better than getting his letter, better than going to Diagon Alley -

And then he'd realized two things. One, he'd had a pretty good year. Two, Dumbledore had just told him why he'd been put into Gryffindor. Neville looked back at Dumbledore, who was still smiling at him and applauding. But then there was a flicker of that smile from the Sorting; that look that Neville had never quite figured out. But he let it go and simply enjoyed the moment, the best one in his life.

In the second year, he was deathly terrified that he was going to be targeted by the monster from the chamber. Even though he was a pure-blood, everyone knew he was practically a Squib. But he hadn't been attacked, and he got through the second year unharmed, unless you counted Draco Malfoy constantly tormenting him.

The third year came and went. Neville went to Hogsmeade with everyone else, well except Harry (However, there were rumors that even Harry had made the trip...). He steered clear of the dementors, who frightened him even more than the basilisk. He actually did well in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It had been a good year for Neville. Uneventful, unless you counted that one dementor on the train.

In the fourth year, he'd watched as Harry won the Triwizard Tournament. He saw him come out of the maze with the body of Cedric Diggory. He'd attended the funeral with everyone else. He'd heard people make fun of him in the halls saying that Harry would only be top in the class if he were to set up a school with Neville. That had hurt, but he was used to it by that point. The worst part of the year for Neville had been that one Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Imposter Moody making him watch as he performed the Cruciatus Curse on a spider. All he'd been able to think about was Mom and Dad, tortured, then put in that ward at St. Mungo's. When he'd found out that it was really Bartemius Crouch, not Mad-Eye Moody, he'd shut down for the rest of the year. He didn't know how to take the news that one of his parents' torturers had been his teacher, had done the very curse that had driven his parents to insanity right in front of him, had made him watch. That year had been...okay, unless you count being emotionally scarred for life.

Then the fifth year had come 'round, and Neville had joined the DA, and he felt like he was a part of something. He was happy. But that happiness turned to embarrassment when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had found out about his parents. Now they understood why he had lashed out when Malfoy had made that comment about insane people at St. Mungo's. It was the worst moment of Neville's life. Then he'd found out that Bellatrix Lestrange had broken out of Azkaban. The woman whose fault it was that he visited his parents with his grandmother at St. Mungo's every Christmas and Easter, instead of going home to see Mom and Dad. She was out in the world. She was free. That was the worst moment. That year, Neville didn't shut down. He took news about his parents differently this year than last; he responded with anger. He didn't shut down; he shut others out. He became incredibly focused in DA lessons. He'd even mastered the Shield Charm faster than anyone except Hermione. Then the Ministry happened. He fought, but it was also when he met Bellatrix Lestrange. The anger he felt when he saw her was so extreme, he thought he'd never be able to feel happy again. He could still hear her words, loud and clear in his head:"Longbottom, is it? Why, I had the pleasure of meeting your mom and dad!""I KNOW YOU HAVE!" he had shouted. She'd done the Cruciatus Curse on him, to see how long it would take for him crack like his parents. It was horrible. He couldn't describe it, but he could remember the exact pain. That was also the day he'd broken his old wand; Dad's wand. Dad. He was so sorry. Mom, dad!

"Hey, Neville?"

Neville jumped ten feet into the air. He turned to his right. Luna was standing there, a parchment and quill in hand.

"Oh. Hi Luna. How are you?"

"Fine. But I'm a bit confused about this essay for Herbology. Can you help?"

"Yeah, sure. What do you need?"

"Well, we have to tell the who discovered the Snarguluff, but I can't find it in any book. Do you know?"

"Oh, yeah, that was Eleanor Crockins."

"Well, do you happen to know what book that would be in? We have to cite everything. Book, page, paragraph, and sentence."

"Wow. So Sprout hasn't just gone crazy for the N.E.W.T. level."

"Well, I don't think she's crazy. I just think she cares a lot about her class and wants people to really learn in it."

"Right."That was the one thing about talking to Luna. She always took everything you said 100% seriously. She clearly hadn't understood that Neville simply meant that she'd really gone extreme with the amount of work she was giving them. However, Neville didn't mind. He liked Herbology; it was his best subject. It used to be the high point of all his letters to Gran when he was constantly writing her back in the first, second, and third years. But he'd stopped that, and he only wrote to her occasionally when something major happened."There's one book that has everything about Herbology. Be right back."He turned around and dove into the stacks. He went to the Plants section, and found the huge book. When he emerged, he placed the brown, peeling book on the table.

"Now that's a big book," Luna said in her airy voice.

"Yeah," Neville responded."Like I said, it has everything. Now let's see," he turned to the book's index."Where is it? Ah, here it is. Snarguluff, discovery of. Page 394."He turned in the big book to the page, skimmed it, and said, "There."

"Where? Here?"Luna pointed her finger to one sentence on the page.

"No, here," Neville replied, gently taking her hand and guiding it to the proper spot.

They locked eyes, and the moment was perfect. Still keeping a gentle grasp on her hand, Neville started to lean, and he could've sworn she did too-

"Luna! Luna, I've got it!" The two jumped apart. Luna spun around; Neville looked over the top of her head.

It was Michael Corner, waving a book over his head, looking very pleased with himself."I got it. I got the final ingredient to the Draught of Living Death potion! I know it! Extra credit!"

Luna was half looking at Michael, half looking behind her at Neville. "That's great, Michael," she said softly. She was looking down and away from Michael, but not quite looking at Neville. She was in no-mans-land between them.

"So, Michael, what N.E.W.T.s are you planning on taking next year?"Neville asked, trying to fill the awkward gap and be polite, even though at that moment he wanted to do the Leg-Locker Curse on Michael so badly it almost hurt.

"Well, I'm hoping to get into Charms, Potions, and Herbology."Michael answered, politely, but seeming like he too just wanted to fill the gap.

"Herbology, eh?"Neville responded, pouncing on that idea."You wanna' be an Herbologist when you grow up?"

"Well, I'm not sure. All I know is those are the subjects I like and I think will be useful."

"Useful? What do you mean that they'll be 'useful'?"

"Well, I mean, charms always come in handy for the little things in a house. Potions are needed for illnesses and if you need something specific, like a lucky day. And you can use plants for some medicines and stuff."

"Some medicines and stuff, eh? So if you intend to use plants for medicines, can you tell me which plant heals minor cases of Dragon Pox?"He had said the words before he'd thought about them, before he could stop them. Neville was challenging Michael in front of his girlfriend, on Neville's own turf.

"Uh, well," Michael stammered."Um, that would be..."

"Don't know, do ya'? It's Drimbulus. Not well-known among people who aren't experts in the field, but basic for those who are. I mean, elementary. I learned that in my third year."

"Oh, well..."

"Come on, Michael. It's getting late. We should probably get back to the common room," Luna piped up. She clearly wanted to stop things before they got any uglier.

"Right," Michael responded, giving Neville a look that had a cold edge. The two went back to their table and began to pack up their books and left. Neville watched her go until the last wisp of her blond hair disappeared behind the other side of the library's door.

Great, Neville thought. The only reason I came to the library instead of working in the common room is now gone. It was true; Neville usually did his homework in a corner of the common room. Even though no one usually said two words to him, the atmosphere was like cozier. Being in Gryffindor was like feeling like you were part of a family; that was just the feel in the air of the common room. Fred and George used to be at the center of it all, always, every night. In their earlier years, they'd set off Filibuster Fireworks. Then they'd developed Canary Creams, Skiving Snackboxes, and fireworks that could beat Dr. Filibuster himself. But then they'd made their famous escape last year, leaving behind a swamp and two holes in the castle wall above the great oak front doors. They'd moved on to create Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley, and their shop was now famous. Now, Coote and Peakes were the joksters in Gryffindor; pulling pranks and setting off Filibuster Fireworks in the common room whenever Gryffindor won a Quidditch match. Neville loved his house. It was easily the best in Hogwarts, and he had always known that, but sometimes he wondered what would've happened had the Sorting Hat listened to him back on September 1,1991. If he had been put in Hufflepuff like he'd wanted. What would've been different? Would he have friends, a clique? Or would he be even more of an outcast? Well, there was no point thinking about it. It wasn't going to change anything. Neville still thought the Hat had been wrong on that day, but its decision was finally, and though it was often questioned, it hadn't been wrong yet.

Neville packed up his homework, sighing as he put his Charms essay away. He was gonna' fail it anyway. What was the point? He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out the door, thinking as he left, The hat was never wrong. Never wrong before me.

So,how was that?Please review!