A/N: And here is the final part, which takes place during the Final Battle of Hogwarts. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I just like to play with JK Rowling's creations on occasion.

Part 4: The Dawn

Hogwarts was in chaos, and Neville Longbottom couldn't have been happier.

Well, perhaps happy was not the right word. He was relieved, relieved and ready to act. Harry Potter and his friends had arrived, he was given custody of the Sword of Gryffindor and a task, and the Battle of Hogwarts had finally begun.

One side or the other would win this war, and after all the months he had spent fighting on these grounds, Neville was determined to win.

But first, he needed to find Luna. After spending months at her side, growing more and more protective of the beautiful and talented witch, Neville had finally come to the conclusion that he was in love with her.

Actually, Seamus had pointed it out to him, and Neville had spent many weeks denying it, but with the last battle bearing down on them, Neville had decided the time had come to confess his feelings.

After all, they might be dead by dawn, so why shouldn't he?

Surging through the chaotic whirlpool of Hogwarts students that were all attempting to find a good place to hide or fight or arm themselves properly, Neville bounded up the stairs towards the Great Hall, knowing there was only one place Luna would be while all was descending to madness around them.

Or, as Seamus cheerfully put it as he bolted by in pursuit of a Death Eater, "The world is ending, mate! Have some fun!"

Neville could not help the grin that spread over his face, the adrenaline in his body doubling his pace. This war would end today, that he knew. He just needed to find Luna first.

Surprisingly, the doors to the Great Hall were still on their hinges, and even though most of the stone was crumbling and the windows barely stayed in their frames, Neville found that the elegance of the once proud hall could not be denied. Shutting the door behind him, Neville found that they blocked out the noise quite effectively. Except for the screams and bellows that traveled through the glass-less windows from the courtyard, it seemed as if the battle didn't even exist.

While the enchanted ceiling roiled with storm clouds, reflecting the torrent that raged beyond the doors, the dawn could be seen over the horizon, staining the sky with the pale colors that heralded a brilliant sunrise.

Someone else had retreated to this large space in order to escape the chaos, and Neville found himself smiling fondly at the slim figure framed in the window.

He did not approach her, not yet. Instead, he silently stood and took in the picture she made, imprinting the tableau before him in his memory so he would always have it.

Years later, when asked about the Battle Hogwarts, this was the image that would first come to Neville Longbottom's mind, before he launched into the heroic story that his listener always wanted to hear.

The stones barely held the window frame in place, and all the glass had been destroyed by Death Eaters and miscast spells some time in the early stages of the battle. Oblivious to the debris around her, Luna Lovegood watched the sunrise, seeming not to hear the battle raging below her, not seeming to see the grime and grit that covered her clothing.

Her wand was held loosely at her side, and Luna seemed to be enthralled by the color palate that was blooming across the sky. Her blonde hair was tinted red by the light of the sun's first bloody rays, and her silver eyes seemed to absorb the color before her and return it to the sky.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Luna turned to find Neville standing beside her, looking for all the world like a strong warrior who had stepped from the pages of the strange tales her father used to read her as a child.

Smeared with blood and dirt, Neville was far from handsome. However, his charm did not come from his physique, but instead from the confidence with which he held himself, from the expert way that he wielded the sword currently held at rest at his side, the shining point digging into the loose stones beneath them.

He turned to look at her, and Luna shivered at the heat evident in his dark eyes. She turned her gaze back to the sunrise, lest he see the answering call in her own, the cry that came from her beating heart.

"It is," she conceded.

Although they were alone, neither spoke above a whisper, loath to break the magical silence stretching between them, spun by the spreading sunrise and the feelings between them, yet unspoken.

"Luna…" Neville trailed off, and Luna looked up to find him studying the sunrise as if it was the first one he had ever seen. The orange rays lit his face with bronze, and Luna was reminded of the knight statues she had seen earlier, striding bravely into the fray in order to protect the castle.

"Do you think we'll survive?"

Luna had been expecting this question, and at his desperate gaze, she gave him a comforting smile, hoping to reassure him.

"We have Harry Potter," she said simply. "How can we not?"

This calm statement summoned a weak chuckle from the man beside her, and he turned fully to face her, the beauty of the sunrise painting the sky forgotten.

The noise of the battle seemed to rush back into the Great Hall, filling the silence as Luna gazed up at Neville, suddenly aware of her own vulnerability. There was a fierce light in Neville's eyes, one she had seen many times before. It was the same light that shone when he stood up to the Carrows, it was the same light that shone when another student was saved from their cruelty, and it was the same light that shone when Harry, Ron, and Hermione reappeared, bringing the promise of ending the war.

Luna had always recognized that light as being indicative of Neville's fighting spirit, of his desire to protect all those he cared about, but never had she seen that expression directed at her.

Trembling, Luna stood as a startled deer, posed for flight. Neville took a step forward, offering a gentle smile, attempting not to spook her further. His fingers came up to trace her cheek in a familiar gesture, but this time, his palm rested against her cheek, his thumb stroking her cheekbone.

Luna blushed under his intense gaze, but she did not avert her own. Aware of her own vulnerability, aware of his, suddenly, painfully, desperately aware of her own mortality in a way she never had before, Luna realized that these might be the last moments they would spend together.

"Neville…" Her voice came out in a breathy whisper, and Neville leaned down to hear it better, his gaze on her lips.

"Luna," he whispered, his voice rumbling in his chest, "if we die today, I want you to know that you have given me hope. Your faith has keep me going when I wanted to give up, and I have to tell you, I—"

Luna's lips on his cut off the rest of his statement, but Neville found he didn't truly mind. Dropping the sword with a clang, Neville wrapped his arms around Luna's small frame, lifting her off the floor.

Her lips were warm and accepting under his, and Neville found himself reluctant to pull away. He wanted to stay here, with her fingers buried in his hair, her arms wrapped around his neck, her warm body pressed against his.

Luna looked up to find Neville bearing a crooked smile. "Do you feel the same way, then?"

Her only response was to kiss him again.

Setting her back down on the floor, Neville brushed his fingertips against her lips, a motion that left her tingling. "I have to get back," he murmured. "Harry gave me a job to do. I only came to find you first."

Lifting her wand, Luna picked up the Sword of Gryffindor and handed it to him. "It would be best if you do that," she conceded, unable to keep the smile from her face.

Reaching out his hand, Neville took hers. Squeezing it, he glanced down at her, that fierce light returning, looking every inch a warrior who could take down armies on his own.

Luna's silver eyes reflected the hope that he felt as they strode towards the double doors, back to the battle that was raging on the other side.

"Are you ready?"

Lifting her wand, Luna gave Neville a fierce grin. He returned it, raising the sword in a salute to her bravery, to her hope, to her faith.

"It's time to finish this."