It was shy at first, almost painfully shy, and so stinted, that to any onlookers it would have appeared as if in slow motion. And it was confusing, even afterwards, Neville wasn't quite sure what had happened, but he was happy, for just a few blissful minutes he was happy everywhere, almost as if he was shining, or breathing sunshine. Of course, happiness like that, happiness that was living in the strands of her blonde hair falling through his fingers, and her silver eyes that flashed like cats with a strength and conviction that no one else seemed to notice, it couldn't last, not here, not like this, and the irrepressible sadness, the fear and loss crashed cold and seemingly endless over his body…but sometimes, happiness can put up a fight, it can be the white blood cell, the antibiotic of emotions, and with her there, and with the joy that her whimsical expression and distant eyes instilled in him, he felt like he could get back up, like he could fight, maybe like he could fight forever.

He didn't know what time it was when he woke up, outside the sky was peeling and bursting into a myriad of different colours, as dawn spread across the sky like wildfire. Or was it evening? It had taken a while for him to register what was going on, and where he was, why he wasn't in his bed.

The sheets of the hospital were cold, and scratchy, next to the ones in his soft red four poster…and as the memories swam, floating to the top of his brain, and the events of the last 24 hours remembered themselves, and danced hauntingly and spitefully over his consciousness, the day seemed to get colder, and he was filled with the piercing ache of loss… the comfort of a blonde head, resting on his mattress, hair crimson in the light floating through the window was so welcome that it brought tears to his eyes.

Biting his lip, every centimetre of his body shook, as he leant over to stroke her hair, pulling it through his fingers….he'd ached to touch it so many times, but what would she have thought? It was so beautiful…so long, and shiny…. He drew back, with a gasp as she stirred "I see you're admiring my hair Neville. My dad thinks I'm part Veela."

Neville's face was hot with embarrassment….

"I was just..." he broke off, words stuck in his throat

"you were very brave last night. I waited up to tell you. But you were still asleep."

Neville was stunned. She waited up to tell him…. And it all came back, he had been lost in her, but now it hit him hard…and he fell back on his pillows.

"Luna, Luna, Dumbledore…."

"Yes Neville he's dead. He was the greatest wizard there ever was, and now he's dead."

And he tried to fight back the tears, god he tried hard…he knew she wouldn't care; she wasn't like other girls, but all the same, he didn't want her to see him cry. But she just looked at him, with her head on the side, and smiled

"It's not over Neville. There are still good people here, in the world… we saw that last night, when we were fighting. There's still hope."

She seemed to him, through the tears, a different person…stronger, although she'd always been her own kind of strong. And driven…but she'd always been that too. But then, when she leant over the bed, very slowly, tucking her hair behind her ears, and kissing him hard on the mouth, so that he gasped for air, and made a very embarrassing noise at the back of his throat…he thought maybe he knew what was different.

And then, against all odds, everything that seemed to Neville to be logical, she laughed.

"You weren't expecting that, were you?"

But he was still speechless, a momentary bliss was spreading over his body, down to his toes.

"I'll meet you outside the great hall at lunch. If you're better by then"

And as she walked out, smiling distantly…. Pure joy was Neville's, just for a moment.