In Luna's final year at Hogwarts, she finds love in an old friend—Neville Longbottom. To him, it was never any question that they belonged together. He had admired, depended on, and loved her for a long time. But as the years go on and their lives lead them down different paths, it seems as if the flame Neville deemed 'eternal' is dying out. This is the story of Neville and Luna's love, a journey taking them through many years and bumps in the road.

Prologue

He stood staring silently out of his window, watching the squirrels skitter about the front yard and wondering what to do with the time that hung before him. It had been a long time since he had been home at the beginning of September—seven years, in fact—and it felt…wrong to him. He had quickly grown used to being gone for all but four months out of the year. More than that, he liked it. Now he was back to living at home and he felt…lost. What was he to do? Where was there for him to go? The world around him was still in ruins, trying to recover from the destruction which had been brought upon them. He wanted to help, but how was he supposed to when he wasn't even sure what was going on?

Sighing, he sat down at his desk and stared at the blank piece of parchment in front of him. It stared back tauntingly, daring him to write the letter he had been putting off for so long now. All he wanted to do was talk to her, but, as he stared at the sheet, an idea came into his mind. Maybe she would have the answers he was looking for. She always had before, somehow. So, dipping his quill in the ink, he began to write.

September 3, 1997

Dear Luna,

How is it? I'm sure it's different, but how so? Is it bad? Has it gotten better at all? I am sitting at home, not sure what to do with myself now that I am not at Hogwarts. It's all I've really been thinking about since I left. At least there I knew what was going on and how I could help. But here…well, to be honest, it seems so normal and peaceful that it is easy to forget that out whole world was torn apart just a few months ago and the mending is still going on. It's easy to not realize that people's lives have fallen apart and they need help putting the pieces back together.

When I think of the war and loss, I immediately think of the Weasleys. They are a good family—they didn't deserve any of the bad things that have happened to them. But I don't know how to help them. I don't know…how do you fix the spot where a son belonged? And then there is little Teddy Lupin. I think of him and I can't help but be reminded of Harry—both parents dead at once, killed because of Voldemort. There really is no repair to losing your parents. But what else is there to fix? I could be that guy to help fix what was broken if only I knew what to fix. But when you've just lost a loved one, there really isn't much else that matters, is there? Everything else just seems to fall into the background for a while, and by the time you finally pick yourself back up to take care of the problems, there isn't really anyone volunteering to help anymore because no one knows that there is anything left.

He sighed, briefly placing his quill down to rest his hand. He felt a heaviness inside of him. The cause was uncertain, but he suspected it was because of the war. He felt an itching to help—a need to. At Hogwarts, he had been at the center of everything, helping anywhere it was needed. Here, he just sat at home, writing letters and talking about it. If he knew of someone who needed help, he would be there in a flash. But, as it was, he sat at home, forgetting too easily that there were still people in need.

Luna, I feel lost. Last year, I grew so much. But here, I feel like I am shrinking back into my blubbering old self. I suspect soon Trevor will go missing on I will be a complete mess until I find him. I don't want to be reduced down to that. I like who I have become. I like helping people and taking risks.

I need some way to keep my strength. I need a way to stay focused and to help. And, if you don't mind, I think you could be that way. Over the past few years, you've helped me in ways you don't even know. So, if you could please tell me what is going on and help me find a way I could help, it would be much appreciated.

Downstairs he could hear his grandmother calling out to him as she clambered about in the kitchen. He sighed again. Well, he had one person to help, but it wasn't quite what he had in mind. It didn't have to be big—any small task would do, but he wanted it to really be of service to those who had lost so much in the second wizarding war. He wanted to feel like he was serving a purpose again. He hated sitting around the house, running errands as people were struggling to regain what they had lost.

Those squirrels outside were doing more than he was.

That was just sad.

Really.

There was a crash from the kitchen, and he knew what was coming next. It was like a routine with his grandmother. Every day felt the same. And while, once upon a time, this would have been fine with him, suddenly it felt tedious.

"Get down here, boy!"

"C-coming Gran!" He picked up his quill and quickly ended the letter. His grandmother sounded a bit peeved, and it was best not to keep her waiting when she was in a mood like that.

Gran is calling me now, so I should go. I hope to hear from you soon and hope all is going well. Please keep me informed. I will write again soon.

-Neville Longbottom