This time... NEVILLE/LUNA!

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Neville Longbottom walked down a street of Hogsmeade. At the ripe old age of 22, he had done quite well for himself. When he left Hogwarts, he hadn't qualified for anything that he'd really liked to do, e.g. Herbologist, but Fred and George had had the kindness to hire him at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes until he got the grades. He was mainly the guinea pig, but he was a salesman in the times when the Dastardly Duo didn't have a new experiment to test on him.

Lost in his thoughts, Neville blundered into someone carrying a bag of small cages. The bag fell to the ground and the cages spilled out, all over the cobblestones.

"So sorry... wasn't watching where I was going... let me help." He said, picking up some of the cages. "What are these for?"

The girl who dropped the bag looked up at him, dirty blonde hair swaying in the slight breeze. "I think I've got Perescimites in the fireplace. My father says to lure them out with Flobberworms then put them in cages." Neville was taken aback. Most girls who looked like her wouldn't give him the time of day, let alone speak to him in that friendly manner, as if he was her oldest friend. He barely even noticed the fact that Perescimites were a make-believe race of small furry mammals with long fangs and claws, designed to keep children away from fireplaces where they could easily floo away to destinations unknown.

"Um, do you... ah..." Neville stammered. The girl had a look on her face as if she'd never seen such an interesting creature as him before.

"Do I what?" She said.

"Do you... er... would you care for a drink in the Three Broomsticks later on?" Neville blurted out. Oh no, now look what I did, he thought, I'm wide open to rejection, here it comes...

"Sure."

"Yes, well, just thought I'd ask, doesn't – what?"

"I said ok. That would be good."

"Serious?"

"Yep."

"Not kidding me?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" Neville asked, wondering if the girl was suffering some kind of sight-altering disease.

"I said yes, didn't I?"

"Well... I suppose. Seven, then?"

"Seven what's?"

"Seven o'clock."

"What about it?"

"Well, I just thought that would be a good time to meet –"

"Why didn't you say so? Seven o'clock it is, then."

The girl picked up the last cage and put it in her bag, then wandered off, the same way she had come from. Then, remembering her direction, changed route to go past Neville, staring into space.

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Neville looked at his watch. Five past seven. I knew it, he thought. She's not coming. Fool, Neville, fool...

He was just about to open the door to leave when the door opened from the outside, and a girl with long, dirty-blonde hair walked in, staring at the door.

"Um... hi?" He said.

"Hello." The girl said. "So... I think the bar is that way."

"Right." Neville said, trying to maintain a cool and composed walk. It was difficult, though, and somehow he tripped over his own feet and landed flat on his face. Real cool, he thought. Very, very cool. The girl simply helped him up and asked the bartender for a butterbeer. Neville asked for a firewhisky to calm him down. He secretly thought it was a good thing the girl was drinking butterbeer, she didn't need to get any dottier. Downing the firewhisky in one gulp, it was a couple of seconds before he realised why they called it firewhisky. His throat felt like it was on fire, like thousands of tiny needles were stabbing his insides as he felt the vile drink slip down through his system into his stomach.

"Butterbeer, thanks." He rasped to the bartender, clutching at his chest. The bartender giggled.

"First firewhisky?" She asked. He nodded. "I see that all the time. Don't worry, you'll get used to it soon enough."

Just as Neville was thinking that he would rather swim in Kappa-infested waters than get used to this vile concoction, the girl started to engage him in conversation.

"I've never drunk firewhisky." She said. "I heard it contains the ash from dragon's breath."

"Who'd you hear that from?" Neville asked, saying the first thing that came into his head.

"My father." Said the girl.

Suddenly, before Neville could get his bearings, the girl was kissing him. He was so surprised that he almost wet himself, but then remembered where he was, and how awkward that situation would be. He was in a daze, barely noticing as he threw floo powder into the bar's fireplace and shouted his address. Collapsing onto his bed, the girl stared into space for a second, before resuming her previous activities. Dozy... was Neville's last coherent thought.

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Neville awoke to find the girl snoring next to him.

"Just what I've always wanted." He said sarcastically. "A snorer." Belatedly, he realised that he had never even got this girl's name. "What's your name?" He asked, shaking her awake.

"Luna... Luna Lovegood."

"No!" He shouted, unbelieving. "You're not!"

"Yes I am." She said calmly. "Who were you, by the way?"

"My name is Neville Longbottom and I really shouldn't be here."

"That boy from Hogwarts?"

"Yes! Now, I must leave!"

"Oh. Ok." She said, and started snoring again. From then on, Neville made sure he knew who a girl was before he asked her out.

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Stay tuned for the next instalment: SIRIUS/BLAISE!