He'd never been one of those boys. The ones that all the girls talked about. They were people like Harry, or Dean, even Ron on occasion. But not him. He was the bumbling, clumsy, forgetful one whose purpose was nothing more than something to laugh at when things went wrong, which they so often did when he was around. Poor Longbottom, the cowardly Gryffindor. He knew people wondered why he hadn't been put in Hufflepuff, because to be honest he didn't seem to belong in any of the other houses. He wasn't brave, or clever, or cunning. What was he good at? Herbology. That was pretty much it. And the Herbology teacher was head of Hufflepuff house. So why he hadn't been put there was a mystery to him. Whenever things got particularly bad, and he was genuinely considering never returning to the school, he always tried to remember what the Sorting Hat had said to him on his first day at Hogwarts.

'Afraid, I can see that, yes, very afraid, but there's courage there too. Your time will come, that much is certain. There's really only one place for you, and you will prove you are meant to be there, one day. Yes, I think you'll make a very worthy… GRYFFINDOR!'

He had almost fainted with relief at the fact he had been put into a house that wasn't Slytherin, and didn't give a thought to what being a Gryffindor meant until later that night, when they were all in bed. The worry had plagued him for years, ever since that night, that he would never be able to show he deserved to be a true Gryffindor, because he honestly had no confidence that he was a true Gryffindor.

Until his fifth year, when she appeared.

Everyone called her Loony, and from what he had seen of her before they'd officially met, she lived up to her name. She didn't have many friends, but she often hung around with Ginny. He'd liked Ginny quite a lot for the first few years of his Hogwarts life, so paid close attention to her, which therefore meant he saw a lot of the blonde oddball as well. Tangled hair, corks on necklaces, bizarre magazines – he'd never wanted anything to do with her. But on the way to school at the beginning of his fifth year he had been forced to sit in a compartment with her, and his eyes were opened to the true wonder that was Luna Lovegood.

She was intelligent, remarkably so, and she had a way of making him feel like he was needed in situations when he would otherwise have felt alone and useless. She was so kind to him, and wasn't afraid of having conversations with him which would normally have made him feel so uncomfortable. He told her about his parents, and she held his hand while he cried. She listened to his insecurities, and was very matter of fact with him when he confessed his worry about being a Gryffindor.

'You are a Gryffindor, Neville. The Sorting Hat said so.'

He explained that he thought the Hat might have been wrong in his case, but she shook her head.

'No, I don't think so,' she said gently. 'You see, the Sorting Hat isn't ever wrong.'

He couldn't convince her otherwise.

He still told himself it was Ginny he wanted, and when they were breaking into the Ministry he swore to himself he'd protect her. But when the real battle began, it was Luna he was gravitating towards, and he was fending off curses heading in her direction instead of Ginny's. Afterwards, he tried to explain this by reasoning that Ginny was fully capable of looking after herself, and he felt Luna had required his protection more. But the truth was, Luna was just as skilled as Ginny, and it had been for a thoroughly different reason he'd wanted to keep her safe. As much as he tried to deny it, Luna was the special one now, and he had a feeling she always would be.

In sixth year, he had hardly left her side. He called her a best friend, but everyone knew she was more than that to him. As for what he was to her, well, nobody could ever tell what was going on inside her head. If he was important to her, she was keeping that fact to herself.

When Dumbledore had died, she had been the only one who could provide any comfort. A deep depression had fallen over the castle, and it hurt to even think about the headmaster they had all known and loved. But she was always there, and they would sit together when there was no one else around, silently acknowledging each other's pain. The first time he had ever seen Luna cry was when he broke down during one of the sessions when they were sitting on the steps outside the castle door just before the funeral. He had choked out tears, and as he sat there shaking, he felt her arms circle him. Her looked up, and saw that her face, normally so serene and gentle, was screwed up in a grimace of pain. They had both lost parents, in one way or another, and this reminded them of it. He watched as tears fell down her face, and slowly, uncertainly, he put his arms around her, and they just sat there holding each other in a gesture of comfort and friendship.

When seventh year had started, their world had come crashing down. The hell they went through brought them even closer together and pushed them into rebellion. But then they had taken her, stolen her from him, and he knew he had two choices – shrivel away, or fight back harder than ever. It only took one thought of what might be happening to Luna to make his decision.

When the Final Battle had begun, and he'd seen her face again, he knew that he could survive anything. He fought, and he fought, and every time he glimpsed her long ponytail through the angry battling it gave him another burst of energy to keep on going.

They'd been next to each other when Harry's still body had been brought out in front of them. Her hand had tightened on his, but she didn't make a sound. It was him who went out and confronted the enemy, and he had been the one who had the Hat jammed on his head. Just before it caught fire, he heard a weak voice.

'This is it. I told you years ago, your moment would come. This is it.'

Then his head had been burning, burning, but the fire had gone as quickly as it came. He'd looked quickly round, saw her, and gave her a small smile. Enough to let her know he was okay.

Then everything had been thrown into chaos again.

The glittering sword had appeared out of the hat before he'd noticed it coming, and he remembered Harry's words: 'Kill the snake.'

It was there, just – there. The snake. It was too simple, really, but he did it, quickly and without much thought.

He watched as Mrs Weasley ended the woman who had made his life a misery, and he almost collapsed with a feeling he couldn't quite describe.

Then Harry had appeared from nowhere, and that terrifying, final duel had taken place. She had appeared by his side and taken his hand. The silence was all encompassing, and only the voices of the two circling each other in the centre of the hall cut through it. Then came the scream of 'Avada Kedavra!' and the cry of 'Expelliarmus!'

The wand had soared towards Harry, and Voldemort had fallen to the ground. Everyone was screaming, yelling, crying, and a great crowd converged towards the boy who had just saved them all. He, however, had eyes only for her. She smiled at him, the same smile he'd always known, and it felt perfectly natural when he leant down and kissed her, very gently. It was not a big, dramatic, exciting first kiss, but it was perfect for them. As he pulled her into a hug, and he felt her arms tighten around his waist, he looked around the room over her shoulder. There was Harry, embracing Ginny. There was the crowd, full of screaming celebrators. There were Ron and Hermione, wrapped around each other and kissing very, very enthusiastically. He smiled at all of this, and then heard a voice whisper in his ear.

'I always said you were a Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom.'