Lost Button
June 2004
She traversed the gallery, to and fro, tending to this, that and the other, her feet moving so lightly, it was almost as if she were dancing.
Head resting in his hand, he watched her every movement. He twirled his wand in his fingers and smiled when she stumbled on a warped, loose floorboard. She retrieved her wand from where she kept it tucked behind her ear and muttered an incantation. The board straightened, fastening tight, and she went about her work.
He eyed a small decanter at the corner of his desk before reaching for it. Filling two tumblers with the shimmering crimson fluid, he was about to call for her when he heard,
"Starting something without me?"
Smiling, he met her gaze and said, "I was just wondering if you'd like to have a drink with me."
"I would love one."
He pushed his chair back, patting his lap, and she obediently sat astride his thighs. Offering her a glass, she sipped it and smiled. He, too, tasted the drink and set it on the desktop, wrapping his arms around her and resting his forehead on her chest. Placing her tumbler beside his, she ran her hands through his sandy-coloured hair.
He began to unfasten the buttons he was nuzzling and pressed his lips to her sternum. She pulled his head back and kissed him, grazing her teeth over his lower lip. He smiled, lifting her to the desk, and got to his feet, hands in her hair, lips on her own. Swiftly, she unbuckled his belt as he slipped his hands under her skirt and pulled her to the very edge of the desk.
Luna was fixing the buttons on his shirt when the front bell rang. Neville set her on her feet with a quick kiss and tucked his shirt in before following her into the gallery.
"Hermi…"
"Did I just hear shouting?" she interrupted.
"Excuse me?" Neville asked, taken aback.
"Shouting. I thought I heard shouting."
She gripped his sides, nails digging into him and shouted his name. His breathing was ragged and he screwed his eyes shut tight. He quickly braced himself on the desk and she held onto him tightly.
"No, no, must have been somewhere else. What brings you in, my dear?" he asked with a smile at his old friend.
"Dear?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow.
"Nearly dearest," he replied, eyes on his wife as she reached for the counter.
She cleared her throat and motioned vaguely with her hand, "I'll be over there if you need me, Neville," she said quietly. "If you'll excuse me, Hermione."
The other girl watched her with an odd expression as she made her way unsteadily down an aisle of flora. Turning back to the man, she queried, "Is she all right? She was rather flushed."
A slight smile played on his lips and he told her, "She's fine. Just works herself a bit too hard at times."
Hermione still seemed concerned, but sighed heavily with a shrug.
"Do you need me to get something for you?"
"Oh, no," she answered, shaking her head. "I just stopped in. Training ended early today; for me, anyway." She rolled her eyes and went on, "They're really being overcautious with this whole situation. I mean, I'm only pregnant – and just barely so. I'm not dead or anything."
Neville chuckled, "Being pregnant is a big deal. You don't want to overexert yourself."
"Bah."
He laughed at her stubbornness and she smiled.
"How about a sit down?"
"Of course! What kind of a host am I?" he exclaimed, motioning for her to move toward the back office. "Luna? Why don't you take a break and come sit with Hermione and I?"
His wife peered around a corner, a rosy tint still on her cheeks. Her walk was much steadier now, though, as she made her way toward him. Once she'd approached him, he put his arm around her waist and they followed their friend into the office.
"You really shouldn't work so hard, Luna," Hermione admonished, already sitting comfortably in an overstuffed armchair near Neville's desk. Silently, he offered a chair to his wife, but she shook her head and waited for him to sit before resting on his knee.
"I'm sorry?" Luna made a face.
"You work too hard. Your colour is still a bit pink. What were you doing that worked you up so?" the girl wondered, yawning a bit.
"Oh, you know …" she began, looking around as though an answer would jump up and wave at her, "… just some paperwork."
Neville glanced at the crumpled parchments covering his desk. He noticed a broken quill and smirked.
He pushed her back so she was reclining almost completely, though, bent oddly over the inkwell. She took hold of several order forms around her and crushed them in her fingers. Her right hand found the quill he'd been using and, with a gasp, she snapped it in two.
Holding up the broken utensil, he intoned, "Frustrating, really."
Luna bit back a smile and said, suddenly, "Tea, Hermione?"
"Would love some, thank you."
The blonde turned inquiring eyes on her husband.
"Please."
She started toward the venomous tentacula and Hermione frowned when she asked it for the kettle.
Neville, noticing her befuddlement, explained, "She likes to hold it for us when it's not in use."
Hermione shook her head with wide eyes, but seemed to resign herself to the oddness of it all.
As she made her way to the hissing plant, Luna stumbled a little and Neville looked down to see what was in the way.
He pushed her shirt off her shoulders and she fumbled with the clasp on his trousers. She whipped his belt out of the loops, clearing her path and tossed it over her shoulder.
"Accio belt," Neville breathed, flicking his wand lightly from beside the desk, out of Hermione's sight. The black leather slithered toward him without her noticing and Luna smiled at him a little, collecting the kettle from the plant.
Pop!
"Here you are," Ron grinned, peering into the room and finding his wife. "Been looking for you everywhere."
Neville and Luna watched their friends silently.
"I've been here since I left the Ministry. Why aren't you there?" Hermione wanted to know.
"We're on break," he said, as if this explained everything.
"Break is only fifteen minutes."
"And I've spent five looking for you. Come on," he motioned, for her to follow him.
"Where are we going?" she demanded, nevertheless, getting to her feet and taking his outstretched hand.
"Home," Ron said, ushering her out of the room with a wink at the other two. "Bye," he mouthed before turning and leaving.
Pop!
Pop!
Luna blinked at her husband and the tentacula promptly reclaimed the kettle, which rattled lightly. Neville quirked an eyebrow and the plant tipped the vessel.
A single button dropped to the hardwood floor.
While she pulled his shirt from the waist of his pants, he started on the buttons, but his fingers wouldn't work properly. He found himself distracted by her kiss and groaned slightly when he couldn't conquer the fasteners. Giving up, he grabbed his collar and ripped it open, buttons flying.
Luna looked at him and pointed. He felt the open collar and smiled.
"You found my button."