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Neville found her after the battle was over. He was exhausted and filthy and wanted little more than to take a shower and go to sleep for the next three days. But then he saw her.
There hadn’t exactly been much time for romance over the past year — though plenty of the D.A. had used sex as a form of stress relief (Neville himself hadn’t wanted it to happen like that). Before that, he’d wondered what someone like her would ever see in him.
He still wasn’t sure he was good enough, but he’d started to think that being good enough didn’t matter; that what mattered was choosing each other — sticking by each other.
And, Merlin, he wanted to choose her. He wanted her to choose him.
He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by someone coming over to tell him how brilliant he was. He wasn’t brilliant; he’d only done the right thing. Still, he thanked them, and, when Luna offered, took her hand and followed her down to the kitchens.
The kitchens were unscathed by the battle, but the House Elves looked just as exhausted as he felt. He decided not to press them for food.
“I love you, you know,” Luna said in that serene way she had.
She said it so normally that Neville had to do a double take. “What?”
“Don’t you love me?”
“Of course I do, but…”
Luna smiled. She looked tired, too. “I think it’d be nice if you wanted to be my boyfriend.”
It would be nice. “I’d like that,” he said.
She leaned up to kiss him. He hoped she couldn’t tell that he’d never done it before. He was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be this wet, but when she pulled away, she was smiling.