Neville Longbottom had always considered Luna Lovegood to be a beacon of light—eccentric, whimsical, and filled with a strange, almost magical, kind of confidence. But lately, he’d started to notice the changes.
It wasn’t anything overt at first. At first, it was just the faintest signs: Luna eating smaller portions during meals, skipping snacks between classes, her eyes dimming slightly during their usual study sessions. When he asked her if she was feeling alright, she always smiled and shrugged, her airy voice brushing off his concerns. "Oh, just a stomach bug, Neville. Nothing to worry about."
But as the days passed, it was impossible to ignore the way Luna’s clothes hung loosely from her frame. Her cheeks, once full with the softness of youth, had hollowed out. Her smile was still there, but it was tinged with an unusual fragility. He tried not to worry. After all, Luna was known for her strange idiosyncrasies, and surely, this was just another one of them, right?
It was one of those late evenings in the Gryffindor common room when Neville noticed it most. Luna had been sitting beside him, as she often did, discussing the latest theory she had about Nargles or Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. But her voice, usually full of enthusiasm, was quieter now, lacking the usual sparkle. Her hands, usually busy flipping through pages of strange, colorful books, were lying still in her lap.
"You haven’t been eating much lately, have you?" Neville asked, trying to keep his tone light.
Luna’s pale blue eyes turned toward him, her head tilting slightly to one side. "I'm fine, Neville. Really. Just not hungry."
"Not hungry? Luna, you've barely touched your dinner." He hadn’t meant to sound so concerned, but the words had slipped out before he could stop them.
Luna blinked, her expression unreadable. "Oh, it's just... I've got a lot on my mind," she said, her voice too soft for Neville’s liking. "I’m sure I’ll eat when I’m ready."
Neville frowned. "Luna, I’m worried about you. You’ve lost weight, and you’ve been looking... not yourself lately." His voice trailed off as Luna suddenly stood up, her pale face flushed.
"I'm fine, Neville," she said again, her tone sharp now. "I just need some time to think. I'll see you tomorrow." With that, she walked briskly out of the common room, leaving Neville with a heavy feeling in his chest.
--
It had been weeks since Luna had spoken to him, and Neville had grown increasingly anxious. It wasn’t just her weight loss anymore; it was her overall demeanor. She had stopped attending study sessions, stopped joining their group for meals in the Great Hall. When she did come to class, she was distant and withdrawn, her once-radiant presence now barely a shadow of what it had been. Neville knew that something was deeply wrong, but Luna remained silent about it.
Then, one evening after Herbology, Neville decided to follow her. He waited in the hall, watching as Luna made her way down the corridor, her steps light and quick as if she was trying to avoid being seen. Her face looked pale, and her eyes had dark circles beneath them.
"Luna!" Neville called out, jogging to catch up with her.
She stopped but didn’t turn to face him immediately. "Neville, please... I just need some space right now," she said, her voice cracking slightly.
"Luna, you can’t keep doing this," Neville said, frustration creeping into his voice. "You can’t keep pretending that you’re okay. I’m your friend, and I’m worried about you."
Luna stiffened. "I don’t need your help, Neville. I’m fine." Her voice was quiet, but there was an underlying sharpness to it.
Neville reached out, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "Luna, I don’t think you are," he said softly. "Please, just talk to me."
She turned to face him then, her eyes wide and distant, her lips trembling. For a moment, Neville thought she might collapse into him, but she didn’t. Instead, she took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself.
"I can’t... I can’t talk about it, Neville," Luna whispered, her voice shaking. "I don’t even know how to explain it to you. I’m sorry, I just... I’m scared."
Neville felt his heart clench in his chest. He knew, with a horrible clarity, that whatever Luna was going through wasn’t just a simple illness. This was something far deeper, something that was consuming her from the inside out.
--
It wasn’t until the following day, when Ginny Weasley pulled Neville aside, that the full weight of Luna’s struggle came to light.
"She’s been hiding it for a while," Ginny said, her voice heavy with concern. "Luna... Luna has relapsed. Into her eating disorder." She paused, looking away for a moment before continuing. "She’s been battling it for years. After everything she went through with her mother, it became something she couldn't control anymore."
Neville felt as if the world had tilted on its axis. "But... why didn’t she tell me?"
"She didn’t want anyone to know," Ginny explained. "She doesn’t want to be a burden. She doesn’t think anyone will understand. She’s terrified of what might happen if anyone finds out."
Neville’s mind raced, the pieces of Luna’s behavior finally coming together. The weight loss, the avoidance of meals, the growing distance between them—he had missed it all. He had been so caught up in his own worry about her being sick that he hadn’t realized she was fighting a battle that she hadn’t been able to win.
"I need to help her, Ginny. I don’t know how, but I need to do something," Neville said, his voice determined.
Ginny nodded solemnly. "You’re not alone in this, Neville. We’re all here for her. But you need to approach her carefully. She’s not going to want help, not right away. You can’t force her to open up, but you can show her that you’re there when she’s ready."
--
That night, Neville sat by the edge of Luna’s bed in the Gryffindor tower, his heart pounding in his chest. He had spent hours wondering how to approach her, but no matter how he thought about it, there seemed to be no perfect way to start the conversation. But Luna had always been different, and maybe, just maybe, she would respond to him the way only she could.
When she finally came back to the common room, her steps slow and hesitant, Neville stood up from where he had been waiting.
"Luna," he said quietly, his voice soft, as though he was speaking to a frightened animal. "I know you’re going through something. And I don’t know all of it, but I want you to know I’m here. You don’t have to go through this alone."
Luna’s eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, and for a long moment, she didn’t respond. Then, slowly, her gaze lifted to meet his, and Neville could see the fragility in her expression. She didn’t speak, but her lips trembled, and she took a cautious step forward.
Neville stepped forward and gently pulled her into an embrace. He didn’t have all the answers, and he didn’t know how long it would take for Luna to heal. But in that moment, he promised to be there for her, no matter how hard it might get, no matter how long it took.
And for the first time in weeks, Luna allowed herself to lean into him, allowing herself to believe that she didn’t have to fight this battle alone.
End.