Fic: Tarnished (Neville/Luna, PG)
Okay, so ages ago I took a bunch of drabble prompts, wrote a couple, then sort of forgot all about it in the excitement of DH and whatnot. However, I rediscovered them, and this weekend had an absolute blast writing them up, and, in no particular order, shall be posting them for the next several days.
Title: Tarnished
Summary: The war was over, but it had muddled everything up.
Characters: Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood
Rating: PG
Word count:705
AN: for eustacia_vye28.
The next Christmas, everyone seemed lost. The war was over, but it had muddled everything up.
Neville spent Christmas at Hogwarts, even though his gran invited him home. It seemed like the thing to do, because Hogwarts - even with all the bad memories - felt more like home than his gran’s house ever had, and in all the fuss Neville mostly just wanted to be somewhere that felt comfortable.
On Christmas Eve, Neville found himself roaming the corridors restlessly. He didn’t quite regret his decision to stay, but the castle felt emptier than ever before. Most everyone had gone home. He’d seen Dennis Creevey scuttling through the halls, aimless and shadow-like, and a few times he’d seem glimpses of silvery ghosts who seemed fleetingly familiar, but it wasn’t - would never be - the same.
He came to a stop outside the Room of Requirement, wondering why his feet had lead him here when Dumbledore’s Army no longer existed, except in the increasingly sparse stories about the war. Everyone was tired of hearing the tales, and glory tarnished much faster than the medals they’d been given.
When he’d first arrived at Hogwarts, all those years ago, he’d expected everyone to know the story of Frank and Alice Longbottom, the story his gran had told him more often than he cared to remember. Instead, no one had known, and he’d wondered how such a thing had faded into history.
Now, he understood.
People didn’t want to exalt the war they were so weary of. They didn’t care to lament the dead. They just wanted things to go back to normal, save the glossy, idealized story of triumph that proved that things were okay, would be fine, had always been hopeful.
He rather agreed with them, but sometimes he thought he had become like his parents. Forgotten and lonely and just... waiting for someone to show up and remind him that he had once been a hero.
He paced in front of the Room of Requirement, and when the door swung open, he let out a tiny, startled gasp.
Someone else was there and had defined what the room required, and it was all very... festive.
Neville stepped inside, ducking under a low-hanging waterfall of tinsel that festooned the doorway. Everywhere he looked, mistletoe zoomed through the air, holly twined around every object and tiny faeries danced around lit candles.
Standing in the center of it all, smiling dreamily, was Luna Lovegood. What appeared to be glass Christmas tree ornaments dangled from her ears and were latched onto her sleeves and belt, and she was swaying, humming to music that Neville couldn’t hear.
He started to back out of the room, uncertain that he would be wanted, when Luna turned, and smiled even wider in his direction. “Hello, Neville.”
“H-hi, Luna,” he replied, and wished that he could channel some of his proven Gryffindor bravery into his voice.
“Happy Christmas!” she said brightly, waving her arms around to, he supposed, draw more emphasis on the room’s decorations.
He moved closer, and wished her good tidings as well. This close, he realized that the ornaments that she was wearing each bore a likeness of one of the DA - Ginny was there, and Ron and Harry and Hermione, and...
Dangling from her right ear was his face, beaming up from the shiny red orb it was painted on.
“That’s me,” he said dumbly, pointing to her ear.
“I like to keep my friends close to me,” she said. “So you can watch over me even when you aren’t thinking about me. Though I wish you would. Think of me, that is. It gets lonely.”
“It... It does,” Neville agreed. Luna smiled back at him.
One of the clumps of mistletoe zoomed over, and hung belligerently over their head.
Luna glanced up, laughed like breaking glass, and pecked him on the lips. She left an aftertaste, something sweet and a little bitter and strange, like he’d never experienced before.
“Don’t forget I’m here,” Neville said, while her eyes were still trained on him with single-minded intensity.
“You’re the one that’s forgotten,” Luna replied, earring bumping against her cheek as she tilted her head thoughtfully. “But it’s okay, I don’t hold that against you.”
Title: Tarnished
Summary: The war was over, but it had muddled everything up.
Characters: Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood
Rating: PG
Word count:705
AN: for eustacia_vye28.
The next Christmas, everyone seemed lost. The war was over, but it had muddled everything up.
Neville spent Christmas at Hogwarts, even though his gran invited him home. It seemed like the thing to do, because Hogwarts - even with all the bad memories - felt more like home than his gran’s house ever had, and in all the fuss Neville mostly just wanted to be somewhere that felt comfortable.
On Christmas Eve, Neville found himself roaming the corridors restlessly. He didn’t quite regret his decision to stay, but the castle felt emptier than ever before. Most everyone had gone home. He’d seen Dennis Creevey scuttling through the halls, aimless and shadow-like, and a few times he’d seem glimpses of silvery ghosts who seemed fleetingly familiar, but it wasn’t - would never be - the same.
He came to a stop outside the Room of Requirement, wondering why his feet had lead him here when Dumbledore’s Army no longer existed, except in the increasingly sparse stories about the war. Everyone was tired of hearing the tales, and glory tarnished much faster than the medals they’d been given.
When he’d first arrived at Hogwarts, all those years ago, he’d expected everyone to know the story of Frank and Alice Longbottom, the story his gran had told him more often than he cared to remember. Instead, no one had known, and he’d wondered how such a thing had faded into history.
Now, he understood.
People didn’t want to exalt the war they were so weary of. They didn’t care to lament the dead. They just wanted things to go back to normal, save the glossy, idealized story of triumph that proved that things were okay, would be fine, had always been hopeful.
He rather agreed with them, but sometimes he thought he had become like his parents. Forgotten and lonely and just... waiting for someone to show up and remind him that he had once been a hero.
He paced in front of the Room of Requirement, and when the door swung open, he let out a tiny, startled gasp.
Someone else was there and had defined what the room required, and it was all very... festive.
Neville stepped inside, ducking under a low-hanging waterfall of tinsel that festooned the doorway. Everywhere he looked, mistletoe zoomed through the air, holly twined around every object and tiny faeries danced around lit candles.
Standing in the center of it all, smiling dreamily, was Luna Lovegood. What appeared to be glass Christmas tree ornaments dangled from her ears and were latched onto her sleeves and belt, and she was swaying, humming to music that Neville couldn’t hear.
He started to back out of the room, uncertain that he would be wanted, when Luna turned, and smiled even wider in his direction. “Hello, Neville.”
“H-hi, Luna,” he replied, and wished that he could channel some of his proven Gryffindor bravery into his voice.
“Happy Christmas!” she said brightly, waving her arms around to, he supposed, draw more emphasis on the room’s decorations.
He moved closer, and wished her good tidings as well. This close, he realized that the ornaments that she was wearing each bore a likeness of one of the DA - Ginny was there, and Ron and Harry and Hermione, and...
Dangling from her right ear was his face, beaming up from the shiny red orb it was painted on.
“That’s me,” he said dumbly, pointing to her ear.
“I like to keep my friends close to me,” she said. “So you can watch over me even when you aren’t thinking about me. Though I wish you would. Think of me, that is. It gets lonely.”
“It... It does,” Neville agreed. Luna smiled back at him.
One of the clumps of mistletoe zoomed over, and hung belligerently over their head.
Luna glanced up, laughed like breaking glass, and pecked him on the lips. She left an aftertaste, something sweet and a little bitter and strange, like he’d never experienced before.
“Don’t forget I’m here,” Neville said, while her eyes were still trained on him with single-minded intensity.
“You’re the one that’s forgotten,” Luna replied, earring bumping against her cheek as she tilted her head thoughtfully. “But it’s okay, I don’t hold that against you.”