This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Word Count: 743

Title: All Great Stories (start with love)

Note: Muggle!AU, Soldier!AU

Warnings: fat shaming, and bullying

Beta: Ash Juliet

Quidditch League:

[Team]: Pride Of Portree

[Position] Captain

[Theme]: Quidditch Supplies

[Prompts]:

[Theme]: Book Club

[Prompts]: [title] All Great Stories (start with love)

[Theme]: Pokemon

[Prompts]: (genre) angst, [#312.] Minum: Write about someone encouraging someone else.

The House Cup:

[House]: Hufflepuff

[Class] Head Of House

[Prompts]: [First Line] "Every sweet has its sour; every evil its good"

[Category]: Drabble

XX Neville XX

Every sweet has its sour; every evil its good, and for Neville, his little bit of sweetness came in the form of the letters from his girlfriend, Luna.

Neville was sitting at the breakfast table, reading her last letter. She was telling him all about her life, how she was working as a waitress to save money for when he returned, so they could get married and find a place to live together. He sighed. He looked at the smiling face of the blonde in the photograph, and wished with everything inside him that he could be with her, instead of in this horrible place. He wondered if Luna would even recognize him when he came back. He had been quite overweight when he enlisted, but a strict diet, and more exercise than he believed any man needed, was sure to make changes to his body.

For the first time, he was starting to feel comfortable in his own skin, and despite still not wanting to volunteer to be shirtless when they played football in the clearing, he knew he looked better than he ever had in his life.

Of course, he had sent Luna photos of him and Harry, and Luna had commented on how different he looked from when they went to school together. There were so many things he loved about Luna, and her attitude towards looks was one of them. She always said that looks fade, and a great personality was so much more important than what you looked like.

He remembered one day, he was sitting having lunch in the cafeteria, when some boys had come over to tease him about his weight.

"Oi, Piggy," one teased. "Hand over that chocolate pudding, I think you have had enough." He sniggered. Neville felt himself shy away, reaching his hand towards his pudding cup, willing to hand it over, despite knowing it probably wasn't going to stop them from teasing him even more.

"Stop that, Perkins," Luna said, appearing by his side like an avenging angel.

"Oh, you need a girl to fight for you now, Bigbottom?" he continued, ignoring Luna completely. Neville cringed, to be fair, with a surname like Longbottom, some teasing was to be expected from other children, despite his obvious problem with his weight.

"I said, leave him alone," Luna repeated, her face looking serene despite her words. When Neville gave no response, and stopped his motion of handing over his pudding to his bully, Perkin's decided to let it go, for the time being, when a teacher walked down the hallway where they were sitting.

"Neville, you shouldn't let him speak to you like that," she said softly, sitting down beside him.

"I know, it's just... easier, you know?"

She nodded. Of course Luna would understand him when nobody else would. The two of them had always been odd, unusual. He wondered if that was why she was never around the other girls in their clicks, talking about makeup and what dress to wear to the latest party.

She took his one hand, squeezing it beneath the table, and grinned at him. "Well, I'm off to class."

"Thanks, Luna."

"Anytime, Neville," she said, glancing over her shoulder at him, and he watched her walk away, hair bouncing behind her as she went.

In the beginning, the army had not been much kinder to Neville, and without Luna, he had suffered some serious bullying before he had grown into himself. It seemed like time had stopped, but it kept going. Every day, Neville thought 'Today, we are all going to die,' and every day, despite how many men died in battle, despite every shot fired, he survived, and he thanked his lucky stars each day. He dreamt each night of returning to his beloved, marrying her, and having a bunch of little blond babies. Neville rolled up the letter, and folded the photograph, placing it into his jacket pocket before standing up.

"Time for drills," he heard Colonel Dumbledore saying, and he jumped a little, before realising that he wasn't the only one being addressed, and he had no reason to worry about it so much. His fitness had improved by leaps and bounds. He was no longer last through the obstacle course, despite tripping over a couple of tires. The Colonel had his blue whistle hanging around his neck, and urged the men to leave the dining hall and head out into the training course.