Luna was blushing more than she had ever blushed in her life. "Oh it's quite warm in here," she said while fanning herself, walking towards her father's table with Neville. This was not true – it was perfectly cool and breezy inside the tent. Bill and Fleur's wedding was absolutely perfect. She wanted Neville to come sit with her and her father so that maybe he would approve of the one classmate she couldn't stop talking about. You know, for the future.
Xenophilius Lovegood was wearing robes that matched the color of his daughters, his hair similarly blonde and wavy, with the same dreamy look in his eye. Luna loved her father more than anything in the world – he was all she had left. "Dad!"
He turned to his daughter with a small smile on his face and answered, "Hello Luna, dear, I was just conversing with Mrs. Harrington about our hunt for Crumple-Horned Snorcacks!" He gestured to the woman sitting beside him, adorned in a heavily beaded, blood-red gown and a hat the size of the center piece. "She's given me some tips!"
"Lovely, that is lovely," said Luna, but for the first time in her life, she didn't want to talk about Crumple-Horned Snorcaks. "This is my friend, Neville."
Xenophilius immediately beamed, staring at him as if Neville himself were a Snorcack. "Well it is my pleasure! Luna cannot stop talking about you—"
"—And my other friends, you know, the D.A.—"
"It really is swell to meet you, Neville, I've met your grandmother on quite a few occasions, such a lovely, eccentric woman." Neville gave a soft smile and a nod and added, "Yes, Gran…she's an interesting one…"
"What are you saying about me?" Came a shrill voice from above them. Luna smiled while Neville turned lightly pink – his Gran was standing over him, hands on her hips, looking critical. Luna saw Neville gulp before he answered her, "Oh, Gran this is Luna, and Luna's dad, he says he knows you, I was just saying how –"
"Xenophilius Lovegood, I know, I know. I've run into you how many times now?" She interrupted, grabbing his hand.
"Oh, Augusta, it must have been five times in the past week!"
The two of them started their own conversation, leaving Neville and Luna sitting awkwardly, both half listening, half thinking of something to say to each other. Suddenly, Neville touched Luna lightly on the hand. She jumped more than she should have.
"Luna…do you…d-do you want to dance?" His face was almost as red as his tie. Luna's heart jumped—she had been waiting for something like this to happen, something that would indicate that they weren't just two people who happened to run Dumbledore's Army, two people who sat by the Black Lake together for at least five hours that day…
"Of course I do!" She said, a little over-enthusiastically. She was always skipping around or frolicking, so her enthusiasm didn't seem too out of place. Neville pushed his chair back, standing up straight and reaching out a hand for Luna to take. She took it as butterflies shot all around the inside of her stomach. His hands were large and soft and encompassed hers almost wholly. He led her on to the dance floor where most of the other guests were. Luna spotted Ginny and Harry, dancing closely with their arms around each other, George and Katie Bell twirling around each other, and Ron and Hermione, a bit apprehensive toward each other, but dancing none the less. Those two, Luna thought. When will they just admit it?
The music was a moderately-paced folk tune, fine for dancing or talking or whatever the guests felt like doing. The band was fantastically magical, playing instruments that even Luna had never seen in her life. Neville finally stopped, making sure they were out of view from their respective family members, and put his arm around Luna's waist. She was surprised by their height difference—it was not nearly as much as she thought. Still, he was about a head taller than her.
"Had to get away from Gran, did you?" Luna said, looking up at him. He still looked nervous, but a tad more relieved. He chuckled before he replied, making Luna swoon just a tad.
"She can be…overbearing. But I love her to death. Even if she does wear hats with stuffed vultures on them. She has about five different ones. Your dad seems like a lovely guy."
"He is quite lovely," she answered, trying her hardest to stay with the rhythm of the music, but she was never the best dancer. She simply liked to twirl. But now, she was finally holding Neville's hand and she wasn't about to give that up to frolic around.
