CHAPTER 2: Deeper Than A Wound
(3RD PERSON POV)Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood sat in a quiet corner, still in the great hall amongst their peers and their families. Neville, having no relatives to go to, and Luna, her father nowhere to be seen, rested in the corner of the hall. The atmosphere of the place was, indeed, very happy, yet sad at the same time. People everywhere, still sorrowful for their losses, but relieved to be alive.
"I presume my father's dead..." Luna said, as-a-matter-of-factly, without any trace of emotion, thought Neville highly doubted that she wasn't feeling anything. "I've looked for him everywhere, but no one has seen him. No one. Not even the nargles. Yes, I asked them." Luna tucked her slim legs and rested her chin on her hands. She rocked on the spot, staring blankly at the crowd. Despite the misery in her words, Neville smiled faintly at her comment about the nargles. No one seemed to ever understand what they were - not even him. And she never had a reasonable explanation either. She was a peculiar - but special - soul, that Lovegood. Though, aren't all Lovegoods?, thought Neville.
Suddenly, Luna's head snapped around, towards Neville. She was still resting her head on her knees and hands, her golden locks rolling down her leg, but she was now facing Neville.
"Would you like me to clean that up, Neville?" She asked, ever so sweetly. Neville couldn't help but smile. Pleased at his reaction, Luna began dabbing at the deep gash on the side of Neville's face with a rag in her pocket.
"What are you doing Luna?" Neville asked, astounded. Never had he seen such an odd way of healing a wound. Luna simply grinned.
"It's how the Muggles clean their wounds. My mother taught it to me. I find it astonishing and very useful. Sometimes magic gets a bit boring. But maybe that's just me..." Luna continued to carefully clean the cut, though Neville began to wince.
"Oh, I'm sorry if I hurt you, Neville! That truly wasn't my intention!" Luna said, startled. Neville looked up and gave her a weak smile, though still grimacing. "I can use the healing charm if you like," she offered, clearly worried for Neville. He gave her subtle nod, his hand beginning to feel the deep wound. Luna drew her wand from her thick, bushy hair, and got ready to perform the healing charm.
Taking a deep breath, Luna whispered the spell Vulnera Sanentur, and with a swish of a wand, Neville's gash began closing in, the flesh knotting together once more. Though he was finally healing, the experience wasn't that pleasant. After a lot of painful grunts, Neville's face looked a lot better. Now all that was left was a long, thin, pink scar, running down the side of his face.
"Thanks, Luna!" Neville replied, amazed that his face no longer had a gaping hole. He reached up to touch the lumpy scar, and then remembered the battle. The blood. And what he had said, which now Luna knew. Though he knew Luna didn't mind, and wasn't a sort of person who would make fun of you, he was still quite embarrassed at the thought. Still stroking the scar, Neville looked down once again, examing the floor tiles, when he felt something touch his hand. Neville looked up, to see Luna's enchanting face, carefully examining her work. A breath away, their faces, and Neville felt his face become fiery and red.
"The scar makes you look like a true warrior, Neville," she said, continuing to trace the scar. Under her slim finger, she felt Neville's face tense up. Luna drew her hand back, and then looked straight into his brown eyes. "You tensed, Neville. Isn't it obvious? You fancy me." She smiled, and bit her lip.
"It's okay." Luna took her hand, placed it on Neville's which was now in his lap, and let it rest there for a second. She then stood up, and walked away into the crowd, taking out her peculiar glasses, before exiting the hallway. Neville watched it awe, one hand still lingering on his scar.
Neville sat there deep in thought. All he could think of was Luna, her face, her eyes, her hair. All he could think of was how much his love for her grew, ad grew by the minute. For he knew, that his love for her was way, way deeper than any wound. Deeper than his own, running down the side of his face. Deeper than Harry Potter's. Deeper than Peter Pettigrew's, even though he chopped his entire hand off. Bottom line was, Neville knew he loved Luna, and his love will always be deeper than a wound.