Another month has passed, and things are starting to put themselves back together. Luna's dad hasn't left Mungo's yet, so she is still living with Neville. He has trouble with the fact that he knows she'll leave soon. Everything about this, to him, felt permanent. Neither of them were quiet whole again yet. Both had night mares, and had become so close that when the other awoke, cold sweat on their face and terror in their eyes, without a sound the other crept over and curled up with who ever had the night mare. And that was all it took. The feel of her soft, warm fingers in his. All it took was one touch, one simple soothing touch, and everything just drifted away.
Neville was contemplating all this shortly after waking when Luna wandered into his room, rubbing sleep from her eyes, and sat down beside him on the bed, lying her head on his shoulder.
"it's going to be strange." She murmured. "I've spent almost all of my time around you, and now in a month or so I'll be back at school and you won't be."
"I'll visit."
"I know." She smiles and ruffles his hair. "But it won't be quite the same. Do you know what I mean?" her hands fiddled with her cork necklace.
"Yeah, I know."
She smiled at him and reached a hand out, rubbing his shoulder. "You need new shirts. They're all threadbare." She stands and pulls him to his feet and he can't help but smile at the feeling of her hands in his. "Come along! We'll go shopping."
That night, after spending all day in Diagon Alley, visiting George and then harry and Hermione, they head back to Neville's house, exhausted. Luna has on his sweater because she got cold, and they sat down in his bed, a giggling mess. He wasn't sure what it was, but for the first time since the war ended he felt free today. And it was wonderful. She ended up falling asleep there in his bed, her hands resting on his chest. It's another first when neither one wakes up from some sort of night terror.
In the morning when he woke up she was gone, but he heard her humming that same song she always hums, from the kitchen. She is kicking her legs, seated on the counter, making tea.
"Morning!" she said brightly, smiling at him. "I'm sorry for passing out in your bed, Nev."
"Oh, it's fine. I don't mind, really." He smiled and slipped up on the counter himself in order to be seated beside her.
She smiled and leaned over to the toaster Hermione charmed to work with magic. "Poptart?" she asked, handing him one, her graceful fingers brushing his as he took the pastry. She broke hers into pieces and ate them one by one, leaning against his cupboards and sliding her feet into his lap. It was so domestic, in a weird way. Her being there every morning, them making breakfast and tea and coffee, eating together, buying groceries together.
"Daddy gets out of Mungo's tomorrow."
"I remember. Do you want to pack up your stuff tonight? I can help you settle back into your place." He offered, not letting his disappointment at her leaving show. She stayed quiet but nodded, frowning slightly.
"It feels odd to be leaving. I've been with you, in your house I mean, for so long it sort of started to feel like home. Plus, who's going to banish my nightmares with you all the way over here?" she joked, smiling, her face tight. He took his hand and laid it on her shoulder.
"I'm always around if you need me, Lune. We're best friends. Even if you can't see me, I'm here." He pointed to her heart and offered her a lopsided grin. She laughed and shook her head.
"Nev, you are so cheesy sometimes." He shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Seriously, you'll have girls crawling all over you soon. Being a war hero, uncommonly kind and devilishly handsome." She nudged him with her shoulder, smirking at him.
"Yeah, once they've been put off by Harry, then Ron, then they'll come crawling." He laughed and rolled his eyes.
"Really, Nev. You will." She said sincerely, a smile on her face.
"What if I don't want girls crawling all over me?" he said, suddenly serious.
"Well, boys then if that's your bag, though I hadn't pegged you as the—."
"Not what I meant, Lune." She tilted her head, confused. "What I meant was what if I don't want girls crawling all over me, because I already know which one's the girl for me."
"Oh! Well in that case you should tell her. You're a wonderful person Nev, she'll be glad to have you."
"So, you're saying I should find her and tell her."
"Yes, of course."
"Right now?"
"Well, I might wait until after breakfast, but if you think that's what's best, I'd say go for it."
It was quiet for a minute, then Neville spoke.
"You were right, you know. That night after the war. Hands are fascinating. The slightest brush of fingers can calm someone instantly. The lightest touch on your hair can be immediately soothing. They can cure muscle aches, stomach aches, loneliness. But you know what I've discovered, Lune? It has a lot less to do with actual hands, and a lot more to do with the person they're attached to."
"What do you mean, Nev?" she knows, and he knows she knows, but around Neville she lets her confidence fall a little, allowing herself to need confirmation.
"Whenever I'm upset, all you have to do it touch my shoulder, or grab my fingers or stroke my hair, and everything is better. And it has nothing to do with hands and everything to do with you, Luna. This past month, this weird domesticity we built, has been the best thing to ever happen to me. Having you around, all the time, is brilliant. And I know you need to go home to your dad, and then to school, but I will miss this…whatever the hell it is… so much. I am going to miss you so much. You said I should find that girl and tell her. Well, here I am. Laying it all on the line, for you, because I love you. I love you, Luna Lovegood. I don't need a fan club, like Harry's got, and I don't want one. All I need, all I want it you."
Luna does not answer but scoots closer to him on the counter, wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him softly.
"I don't want me to leave either." She whispers, resting her head on his shoulder. Neville has never been more shocked, but he has also never been more ecstatic.
"I love you, Luna Lovegood."
"I love you too, Neville Longbottom." She took his hands in hers, lacing their fingers together and, metaphorically speaking, she never let go again.