A/n: Written for round 7 of the Fanfiction Quidditch League Competition. Thanks to my beta lozipozivanillabean!
Optional Prompt 1: 1."But not all dark places need light, I have to remember that." ―Jeanette Winterson, Oranges are Not the Only Fruit
Optional Prompt 2: nails
Optional Prompt 3: Silent
I've always had a bit of a crush on Luna. To say that I was surprised when she agreed to be my girlfriend would be an understatement, especially considering how many suitors she has. I mean, after Ron and Hermione didn't work out, she was with Ron for a bit, but they were too different to ever go very far. He had to let her go.
Now I've done the same thing.
I didn't want to, but my life got in the way. Things happened, and I stopped being a decent boyfriend. I neglected her, shunned her, and gave her no attention whatsoever during the final months of our relationship. She was lonesome, confiding in Hermione, Lavender and Ginny every chance she got. All she wanted was to have my attention, to tell me about all those wacky, adorable creatures she saw, knew and spoke with. And I couldn't give her the time of day.
It all started when I got the letter and my world was ripped from under me. For a long time now the Healers at St. Mungo's have been desperately trying to find ways of reversing the effects of the Crucio curse, but to no avail. Numerous patients suffered after the war, having been inflicted with the curse at some point. They are still unwell and the search for a cure is a long one. There's been a lot of headway with discovering how to fix things, to make people feel better and to let them live again, but nothing concrete has come through yet. I was beginning to get my hopes up when the world came crashing down around me.
"We never speak anymore," Luna says, eyeing me. "You're mysteriously silent lately Neville."
"I'm nothing of the sort," I say, rolling away from her. We'd been lying in bed for quite some time cuddling until she brought this up. Now I couldn't even face her. "I've had a lot on my mind."
"It's not work," she said, stating a fact. "You took a week off, and they gave you all of it paid. Hogwarts doesn't usually let people off without a reason."
"Oh there's a reason," I grumble, shrugging her off when she tries to lean on me, comforting me. I won't share my pains with her, when I can barely admit them to myself.
Over the years Luna really grew into herself, just as I did. Her blonde tresses lay against her shoulders and back in soft waves, the spindly hair twirling easily around her fingers whenever she got antsy. She filled out a bit after the war, developing some profound hips and shapely legs. It's quite the contrast compared to her lean, skinny frame from before. If I were to be honest, I would say that I like her both ways.
When I started shutting her out, avoiding answering her questions, we really started having problems. Every time she tried asking a question I would push her away, telling her that I didn't want to talk about it. Thankfully at the time no reports had yet been made on the incident at St. Mungo's, the one that changed my life so drastically. I keep that letter in my bedside table drawer now, as a reminder of how close we came to setting them free. About three more weeks and there would've been a cure, a way to pull her back into her former self. But it never came.
Our first big fight happened a month after I got the letter. I recall it vividly. We were all dressed up for a date, though we never actually ended up going out. She had her nails painted a gorgeous shade of red, a colour that popped on her skin and contrasted with her midnight blue dress. By the end of the night they were chipped from our fight, her hand having contacted with my cheek before she left. I had been a jerk.
"Stop pouting," she sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "That's all you ever do anymore."
"Forgive me for feeling sorry for myself," I mutter, and she throws her hands up.
"Good gracious Neville, stop pitying yourself! I don't know what's going on or why you've been so disheartened lately, but it really must stop. You've stopped eating almost entirely, you never sleep and the Blibbering Humdinger is going to haunt your dreams the next time you do! I don't-"
"Stop," I say, losing my patience. "Enough with the bloody creatures. Blibbering Humdinger's aren't even real!"
She looks hurt, and instantly I regret what I've just said. "Luna, I'm-"
I've got a burning pain in my cheek before I can say anything else, and reluctantly I realise she just slapped me. Gingerly touching the reddening skin, I hesitantly glance back towards her.
I was right, she looks hurt. "There you go then Neville. Now you're making fun of me."
"I'm not-"
"Look, Neville, it's not a big deal when someone else does it. I mean, I see Malfoy at the Ministry sometimes and he can't help slipping in a comment or two, and even Hermione is skeptical at best, but to hear you be so rude about it is something different entirely."
"Luna-"
"Save it," she hisses, cradling one hand. It's not hurt, that much is obvious, but the paint has chipped off two of her nails and I know she spent a lot of time tonight preparing for our date. She's even wearing those radish earrings she so loves. "I don't know what's going on in your life anymore Neville, but it's taking you over. Whatever it is, you either need to let go and move on or figure out a way to let your feelings out about the matter."
She left me then, hurt and infuriated, storming out of my apartment without bothering to floo. For a long time after that I sat around trying to decide what to do with myself now that she was gone. I took it upon myself after all to keep everything inside, and of course it came with a price.
In the end, it was my girlfriend.
It was our first and last big fight. She avoided me for a week, giving me space as well as mulling over her feelings about everything. In the end I was the one who contacted her through a letter, too overwhelmed with life to get up the courage to floo over to her flat and pay her a visit. I couldn't stand the heartache of what I was doing.
I sat in my apartment alone for a long time after I owled Luna, a different letter clutched in my hands, worn thin from being folded and unfolded so many times. Now it's a piece of thin paper in my hands, about to wear through along some of the creases. I still can't muster the courage to throw it away, even to this day. The news initially broke my heart, and I'm still stumbling around blindly to find the missing pieces.
It was a letter from St. Mungo's, something I've been dreading for a long time. I know of only two people who are stationed there, two people who are very close to my heart. I recall when I first received the letter, convulsed into tears, and curled up on the floor in the fetal position for many hours. I was all alone that night.
And I'm alone now. I detached myself from Luna so I wouldn't drag her down with me through my silent misery. And now I have no one around to comfort me now that my mother has died. My father can begin receiving the treatments, but I can't visit him yet. Which is fine. I can't bear the thought of going anywhere near the place now.
She's dead. She died, and she probably didn't even know who I was in the end.
I've started the funeral arrangements. She will be buried in a wonderful place, and I'm not entirely sure if I'll be the only one in attendance. When news gets out I'll see about whether or not I'll be inviting my friends.
Luna probably won't come. I did dump her through a letter like a coward after all, saying that I couldn't handle a relationship on top of everything else. When the story is printed she might come to understand what I've been dealing with, but I won't be the one enlightening her on what happened. I don't even know why I can't tell her.
Some say that not all dark places need light, but I beg to differ. In this dark abyss I've fallen into, I need some sort of reassurance that there's a way out. I don't want to continuously tumble into my own demise. Luna once stood as my ray of sunlight, but I shoved her away, wanting to keep from hurting her.
I probably hurt her more with that letter, making such a big declaration on paper in nothing more than black and white. There was nothing poetic about our breakup, just some promptly scribbled words scrawled across the parchment during my moments of continued sorrow.
I'm possibly the biggest reason that my sorrow is so severe. I pushed my lifeboat away, trying to save her. And then I forgot to save myself.
Here I sit, wondering why I ever let that amazing woman go. Luna was a shining star in my life, a lifeline I couldn't afford to lose. Now I'm floating around in a sea of depression, unsure of how to pull myself out. It was a silly, rash choice on my part. Now I'm not so sure she'll take me back, now that she's caught the attention of Seamus and Dean.
Sometimes, I wonder why I let a gem like her go. I realise now she would've been willing to help me get past this, when before I was blinded by pain and remorse. I suppose one should never make such life-altering decisions when depressed.
I'm going to have to woo her back sometime but not now, not when I'm so sad. I clutch the paper tighter, curling into a fetal position again. I wish she would curl against my body, telling me everything is alright.
But she's not here now, because of me. I've been left here all alone.
A/n: Thoughts or comments? This is my first Neville/Luna, and the theme of the challenge was to sink a certain pairing! Let me know what you thought overall.
