Cho's feet lightly grazed the ground, before touching down more firmly. A textbook landing. Neville was being somewhat less orthodox, clinging, as he was, to Cho's torso, with his eyes screwed tightly closed.

"You can let go now," wheezed Cho, her breathing somewhat constricted by Neville. "You know it won't do to be hugging someone else if you're going to tell someone you like them."

Neville released her immediately. Then he toppled off the broom.

"Lucky girl," muttered Cho.

Neville picked himself up as Cho began to hover away.

"Hey, wait a minute, don't go…" but it was too late. She was whizzing back to her dorm room already. "Oh god."

The complex of greenhouses stood behind him, a glowing labyrinth filled with artificial sunlight with roots and branches slithering across the glass like veins. Hypothetically, anyone short of a trained herbologist could trip over and knot or vine and fall onto an acid bud or into a carnivorous plant's maw. And somewhere in that tangle of thorns and devious brambles was a fourth year playing a recorder trying to get them to sing.

And so Neville began to carefully make his way through the menagerie of animals disguised as plants, plants disguised as animals and animals that were actually animals but were too scared to admit it, following the dischordious melody of squeaks and whistles from Luna's recorder.

And sure enough, there she was between the Self-Watering Escher Plant and the Limping Rue Tree of Nigeria, sitting cross legged before a row of shrivelling mandrakes.

"Um, hi Luna," Neville asked, not quite knowing what to do.

"Oh, hello, Neville," Luna smiled. Neville felt he was rarely ever greeted with a smile these days, and yet somehow Luna was always there, ready with one.

Neville sat down beside her; "Hello. Again. Sorry." Damn. Say something else, Neville! Something conversational! "What are you doing there?"

"I'm trying to get these mandrakes to sing to me." She sighed; she'd obviously had to explain this a few times. "They say that if you speak to them in their language, they welcome you with a song."

"Oh" said Neville.

"I know I've been trying a lot, and I've been down here most nights, even slept here once, but they just don't seem to want to sing back." She seemed on the verge of tears. "Why won't they like me?"

"It's because they don't understand you." offered Neville.

"Because I'm a human, and they're plants, I know." She looked down, defeated.

"Well, no. You're just not using the right language." He spoke calmly and inched a little closer to Luna. How many times had he been in her position? Trying so hard to do something that sounded easy but seemed impossible? Being reduced endlessly by it? He put an arm around her shoulders. She looked up; her eyes were sparkling, magnified by tears.

"They don't communicate with sounds, you see."

"But all that shrieking they do?" sobbed Luna, but he could see something more than tears in her eyes now.

"That's just to ward off predators." Neville smiled. "Not many people know this, but they actually communicate through light."

"Really?" a tear stopped midway down her cheek.

"Yeah- they're one of the few nocturnal plants. But…" Neville drew out his wand and tried to remember an incantation he'd read about in An Igor Gardener's Tale (rated four green thumbs up). He'd only tried it the once and it hadn't succeeded then -much like most of his spells- but he gave it a go.

"Spectra Symposia!"

A translucent bowl appeared at the tip of his wand. So far so good. Now he just needed it to manoeuvre the fragile shape into the moonlight; something he'd never been able to do before, because his hand was always shaking and causing the bowl to shatter. But this time his hand was still and confident. Just as it aligned itself near the greenhouse roof, the moonlight struck…

…and emerged in a soft rainbow of lights, meandering down from the bowl as ribbons and strings, ghosting in and out of the ground like worms. They circled briefly around the heads of Neville and Luna before gaining an intense interest in various leaves and branches. Then the rainbows split up into colours and chased each other in helical patterns, a choreographed light ballet.

The moon passed behind a cloud. The colours vanished as quickly as they appeared and Neville's spell faded into the night. Yet still the two sat; mouths agape at what they had just witnessed.

But the show wasn't over yet. The soil rumbled and from it emerged the heads of a small army of mandrakes. Then came the arms and bodies, then their complex root-legs. Soon, they had entirely emerged and had surrounded the two teenagers. Luna's hand hovered over the wand tucked into her skirt, whereas Neville's was still raised, unmoved. He lowered it to the ground and gestured for Luna to do the same.

Their wands had barely touched the ground when one mandrake advanced a little. It was only half the height of a sitting Neville, but it looked unperturbed. Its eyes stared keenly into Neville's for a moment, and then it opened its mouth. A tiny green light emerged and spiralled around Luna. The other mandrakes followed suit, releasing luminescent balls of azure, silver, gold, and too many other colours to name.

"Mandrakes are actually very shy creatures, and you can see why," Neville smiled as he watched the wonder on Luna's face, "you have to really trust someone before they bare their soul to you."

"These are their souls?" Luna asked, incredulous. In the light, her hair no longer looked white-blonde, but was awash with the rainbow lights of the mandrakes illuminating her. She looked surprised, but at the same time, very deeply honoured, and to Neville, utterly beautiful.

He continued; if he didn't he'd lose the conversation entirely. "I think so. You can't physically harm them or anything." He waved a hand through one to demonstrate; it went through his hand, making it glow while inside, before flying back to its owner.

"Wow." mouthed Luna. Neville agreed it was a breathtaking sight, but he couldn't understand why she was looking at him when she said it. Her cheeks went a deep shade of red, but whether that was her or the mandrakes Neville had no idea.

"And this is what their song looks like." he finished, dumbly.

"You know… it's considered good luck to kiss someone when mandrakes sing." Luna leaned her face towards Neville's.

Neville panicked "Was that from the quibbler?" he blurted. Idiot.

"No," smiled Luna. "I made it up just now so I could kiss you."

A pause. "Should I kiss you now, then?"

"Yes please." said Luna, sincerely.

"Okay."

She closed her eyes and pouted her lips a little; she looked serene. Neville looked a lot more worried about it, but he leaned forward to meet her. He wasn't quite sure what to do, seeing as he'd never done this before. He closed his eyes, only remembering to tilt his head after brushing the tip of his nose against hers, and pressed his lips forward. They kissed.

Her lips tasted like blueberries.

They stayed as they were for a while, still holding the initial kiss position, partially because neither of them knew what to do next, but mostly because they were both enjoying the experience.

After about a minute Neville opened one eye to see if Luna was enjoying it, or, as he suspected, was just staying there to be polite. What he saw was Luna's eyes open, asking the same question of him. Their pouted lips parted into smiles and then Neville's hand placed itself tentatively on top of his. She leant into him and put her head on his shoulder.

And together they watched the dance of the souls emblazon the sky, letting hours slip by in wonder, before falling asleep in each others' arms.