A/N: Thought the world needs more Neville/Ginny romances.:D

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine and this story was written with no financial profit in mind.:)

~~Carla

RELATIVELY SPEAKING

Chapter 1 - A Look, Up Close

Success is relative. You can be a far cry from the shy, awkward boy you were when you were a teenager. You could be a famous, well-versed author of bestselling books. You could be well-traveled; the visitor of every nation ever known to man. Every child could know your name and so with every man and woman. But would this mean you have succeeded?

No.

Not if the one thing you've set your sights on since you were that shy, unimportant boy is still beyond your grasp. Because being the best did not mean that you had what you wanted. Being the best in the eyes of the world was different from being the best for you. And this was a fact that Neville could attest to.

He had always been the "misplaced" Gryffindor. He had always been so different from everyone else in his house. For the longest time, when it seemed that his housemates had their sheer bravery, he had had his shaking fear. That had set him apart, but not in a good way.

Sure, he had his shining moments. He had been instrumental in several battles, in which he had fought with his best. But he was still labeled. Neville Longbottom was a name associated with "misfit" and so this was until the day he graduated Hogwarts.

Fresh from Hogwarts at seventeen, he had weighed his options. His entire family had urged him to go for a Ministry position. Yet, he had no desire to be a part of a world that was sure to judge him.

Therefore he had left England. He began to go on the quest to find himself and what he was meant to do in is life. For he knew it was not easy to find something you were good at and liked at the same time.

Since day one in Hogwarts he had been remarkably good at Herbology. Yet he had never considered a career in it because everyone had told him that it was too mild a path for a man to follow. But passion is something that can not be stifled. In his journeys this zeal was re-ignited for he saw with his own eyes the plants that once he had only read about and even more that were not in books.

He then began to study them. Adding information he had learned not yet known to the common wizard. For years he wandered along across the continents, stopping only to examine a specimen or to write in his journal.

Years later, done with traveling across the globe and filled with newfound knowledge, he went back to England. His family was surprised and cross at his return. Surprised that he was home at last and cross that he had wasted time and effort engaged in nonsense.

Not to be discouraged, Neville went to several wizarding publishing houses to see if anyone was interested in a book about rare and unknown plants. Relentless searching was rewarded when his manuscript was accepted and he became a published author.

Such an achievement could have been acceptable but only weeks after becoming published, Neville shot to stardom- his book was a phenomenal success.

This signaled the beginning of a new life for him. A new life that should have been happy and content. But it wasn't. For since the moment he had asked her to the Yule Ball, she had filled his thoughts and his heart. Years of searching had yielded a career he loved, the respect of millions, the approval of his family, more money than he wanted but he knew that it can never win her heart.

He knew that she was probably happy anyway, married to Harry Potter, probably the mother of one or two kids. Since his return, he had not asked about her because even if he knew that she was happily wedded, hearing about it was apt to break his heart even more.

That's why success is relative. He was no longer the "misfit" and no longer was he "misplaced." But he still did not have the one thing that he had hoped for since his fourth year in Hogwart's Schools of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And because he did not have her, this made it seem that he still was that shy, awkward boy of fourteen. And the emptiness, he suspected, would forever be there as she was well out of his grasp.

8-8-8

Happiness is variable. You can be the prettiest and most admired woman in a room. You can have the attentions of the most celebrated wizard, thus become the object of every witch's envy. You can be the best Defence Against the Dark Arts professor Hogwarts had ever had. Every single one of your students and their parents could know your name and associate it with brilliance. But would this mean your happiness?

No.

Not if this things were mere trophies. Trophies that only added to an already long list of achievements under your name. They were things that beautified your name and nothing else. She hated the feeling of emptiness that she felt at the back of her head. She hated the feeling that though it seemed she had everything she could possibly want, she had absolutely nothing.

She knew for a fact that a lot of people would simply love to be her. She was grounded enough to know and admit that she was a beautiful and brilliant witch. Furthermore, she was THE brilliant witch to have captured the attention of the one and only Harry Potter, the-boy-who-had-saved.

She hated herself for not knowing what it was that was missing. She had a picturesque life. She had, finally, after years of yearning looks and hidden glances, she had finally gotten the attention of Harry Potter. Their relationship was wonderful.

He had finally told her the three words that any witch would want to hear from her boyfriend. And, yet, how had she responded to those words? She had thanked him, good Lord. And then, one would think that would signal and end to their relationship.

But Harry, amazing man that he was understood that she needed time to sort out her feelings and was simply content enough to love her even if he didn't get the same from her. Erase the fact that he was one of the most famous names and faces in the entire Wizarding World, he was a prize catch. Sensitive, sweet and romantic, handsome and wealthy.

Yet she couldn't love him. Not fully enough to tell him those three words without it being a lie. She hated herself. She knew that it would not be too long and he would be proposing to her. She hated herself because instead of being ecstatic, she was terrified. Terrified down to her very core.

She felt that if he asked her to marry him she would have no choice but to say yes. And, in her heart she felt if she said yes she wouldn't ever be complete.

She wondered everyday as to why her life was so bloody complicated. Why couldn't she just be content and happy with what she had? Lord knew that she had enough and more than a lot of people could ever have.

Whenever she looked in the mirror she cringed. She was living an empty life and a lie. She felt sorry for her family and Harry and herself.

She hoped to God that before she could end up making the biggest mistake in her life, she could find out what on earth it was that she was missing.

That's why, beautiful as her life seemed, she was not happy. Never happy until she could find that one thing that could fill the void that consumed her heart.

8—8—8

It was that time of the year again. It was the time when the Wizarding World celebrated the end of the threat of Voldemort and his followers. All those that had fought in the war, their guests and Ministry workers were invited to a ball that the Ministry funded.

The important figures in the Final Battle were honoured and those who had died then were remembered. Being the girlfriend of the most important figure in that battle and being quite an important figure herself, she was practically honourbound to attend the Annual Commemoration Ball. Even if she didn't want to.

"Hey Gin." Harry entered the living room of the Burrow to see his girlfriend standing there while reading a letter.

"Harry." Ginny gave her boyfriend a small smile and moved to give him a hug, which he gladly returned.

"Whatcha reading?" Harry strained his neck to look at the piece of parchment in Ginny's right hand.

"The invitation to the Annual Ball." Ginny showed the piece of parchment to Harry. "I'm sure you've gotten one already."

Harry scratched his head a sort of frustrated look on his face. "Oh. Yeah. Uhm. About that, actually. Uh, Gin. Would you like to go with me?"

Ginny felt a sort of tightening around her heart at what Harry said. "Of course. You didn't really have to ask. You know that" She reached out and gave Harry's left shoulder a soft comforting squeeze.

Harry reached up to grab the hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze back. "I just had to make sure, Gin. And, besides, it would be wrong to just assume. I mean, we aren't married yet."

The last word that Harry said had Ginny's heart beat faster as she inwardly wondered if he was actually going to ask him to marry her there. Trying to act nonchalant, she gave a soft laugh. "You are so sweet, Harry. Who wouldn't want you?"

Harry reached up to touch one of Ginny's cheeks tenderly as he tried to formulate. "Well, uh, I'm pretty sure that Cho Chang is still annoyed at me and, uh Hermione is like a sister and Ron would kill me anyway, and, um…"

Ginny gave Harry a little push and laughed harder this time. "It was a rhetorical question, silly." And even if her heart was telling her not to, she leaned in to give him a playful little kiss on the lips.

Harry responded eagerly and wrapped his arms around her waist. Of their own accord, Ginny's arms went around his neck and their kiss went from mild to deep.

A while later, needing a breath of air, the couple broke apart from their kiss and Harry had a big contented grin on his face. Ginny, who was also smiling lacked the contentment that shone brightly from Harry's eyes.

She grabbed his left hand with her right and pulled him towards the kitchen. "I'm sure lunch is ready now. Let's go, Harry."

Harry squeezed her hand and followed her lead. Ginny, turning her face from Harry couldn't help but close her eyes at the feeling of helplessness that engulfed her.

8—8—8

He read the invitation again. In the past, he had received the same invitation around that same time of year. But now was the first time that he had received it while in England. As such, all the other times he had been unable to attend, consumed as he was in his travels and research.

He didn't know if he wanted to attend. He knew that Ginny would be there and his suspicion that she was a Potter would only be confirmed. And he didn't really want the reality of Ginny Potter thrown in his face.

He didn't think that he would be able to bear the pain. But the overwhelming need to just see her was slowly overriding the sense of self-preservation that was telling him that he would only hurt himself.

He didn't know what was wrong with him. Sure, maybe he wasn't as good-looking as Harry but he was no troll. Having two best-selling books, he was also rich. He had more confidence than he had ever had the previous twenty-one years of his twenty-two years on earth.

He should just go to the ball and, maybe, bring a date. After all, his entire world shouldn't revolve around Ginny. He could easily get a date nowadays, anyway.

He slumped down on a chair, the piece of parchment still grasped tightly in his right hand. But he didn't want to date any odd woman. Not when he knew that he would just be comparing her to Ginny. It wouldn't be fair to the woman he brought.

He run a hand through his hair, the feelings and thoughts inside him causing such turmoil that it actually hurt.

He sighed in defeat. He was going to the ball. Had there been any doubt? He would never miss the chance of seeing the girl of his dreams. Even if she was in the arms of another man. Ugh. Him and his stupid torturous, sadistic heart.

A/N: So? What do you think? It'll prolly only last 2 or 3 more chapters.. This is a short story at best. Or, what I call a one-shot gone mad.:P Please review.:)