JK Rowling owns it all.
You can experience Neville's first kiss in chapter fifteen of "In the Words of Ginevra Molly Potter."
If you like this one-shot, don't be shy and check out some of my other stuff.
Neville's First Kiss
Neville Longbottom stepped into Flourish and Blotts. He scanned the crowd of parents and eager children, newly purchased owls hooting in their shining cages, and employees rushing around to satisfy the needs of the costumers. It was August 30th, perhaps the busiest day Diagon Alley and its respective shops faced during the year, and it showed as most families waiting until the day before Hogwarts began to find their school supplies.
He felt a familiar sensation in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't identify until he located his wife and son near the back of the room, between the mob of potential buyers. He placed a hand upon his torso and smiled. This particular feeling he hadn't felt for many years, not since the day Augusta Longbottom brought him here to gather his school supplies. He was nervous then, and he was equally nervous now for his own child leaving tomorrow.
If Neville wanted to get technical, his son wasn't really leaving. Neville was going to be teaching Herbology and be able to see his son whenever he wanted. It was just new to him and he didn't want his child to be as apprehensive as he had been for his first day.
The feeling also translated that it was finally Neville's time to experience what his closest friends had already done. Harry and Ginny had already sent two of their children to school, Hermione and Ron had sent one, and Luna and Rolf had sent both their twins (although the Scamanders, children included, were spending a year in the Outback looking for the Australian population of Nargles).
Neville smiled to himself at the thought. He shook his head amusedly and placed his head in his hand. Looking down, he noticed a display of Luna and Rolf's latest book: Fantastic Beasts You Never Knew Existed. It was this book that had inspired the newest Care of Magical Creatures class. It was also this book that Ron and him had coined Fantastic Beasts and Everything Hermione Was Wrong About. The grin spread quicker, but as he moved to the name of the authors, written by Rolf Scamander and Luna Scamander, he felt a sudden wave of emotion.
What a strange feeling, Neville mused, frowning. It was amazing to him how something so small and trivial transported his mind back almost twenty years in the past, when Voldemort was in control, and he led a teenage rebellion against the evil that gripped the school…
Seventeen-year-old Neville awoke in the hospital wing and groaned. He was in a tremendous amount of pain. His muscles screamed in agony with every twitch from the prolonged effects of the Cruciatus Curse. His skin had been filleted as if someone chose him to sharpen their knife on. He reached up tenderly and touched his cheek. He winced at the size of the gash and the throbbing that followed.
He couldn't tell what time it was nor how long he had been unconscious. The last thing he remember was being in the dungeons with Ginny and Luna, awaiting their punishment for skiving off their Dark Arts class. Malfoy and his two buddies entered. As Malfoy watched, Crabbe and Goyle offered Neville freedom if only he would pick up a wand and torture Luna. They were really daft if they thought he was going to exchange his safety for the Ravenclaw's pain. Not everyone were in it to save their owns skins.
Of course, he refused. It wasn't just because he vowed never to use an Unforgivable, but because the thought of Luna in pain caused him to feel sick. If they so much hurt a hair on her head, he couldn't have been held responsible for his actions. That's when they included the taunts about his parents, and he lost control, and he threatened their lives. Things were blurry after that.
Neville shook the memory away. They would soon have a break from the hell of Hogwarts since Christmas holiday was arriving soon. He was grateful for the pause in their rebellion, but he honestly couldn't wait to return. As long as Harry was out there wherever he was, he wasn't getting a break, why should Neville allow himself one? The students needed someone to lead them and unite them, and although Neville might not have been up for the challenge several years ago, he couldn't imagine his place in the war being anywhere but here.
A soft moan drifted to his ears. He glanced to his left and saw a redheaded witch sleeping on the cot next to him. Ginny. She must have taken the brunt of the torture as well, but she looked far more collected than he felt. He felt so bad for her. She pushed herself far too much and he knew why. She missed Harry and this was her way of proving, mostly to herself, that she was capable. It was frightening at times.
"Madam Pomfrey, how are they?"
Neville couldn't help but find a smile creeping up on his injured face. It was Luna's voice. He had grown to cherish the dream-like quality she always carried with her. He was pleased to know that she was perfectly all right after their encounter in the dungeons.
"Stable," Pompfrey replied. "I'm about to apply dittany to Neville's cheek."
"I would like to do that," Luna said. "I'll be gentle, I promise. I think he'll like it much coming from me."
"A little female compassion from his own age might help," she said.
Neville listened as Luna's light footsteps came towards him. She settled herself on the bed and looked into his pained eyes. He forced another smile despite the aching. "Hello, Luna," he said weakly. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"
"No," she said, dipping a cloth in the medicinal substance and dapping his cheek tenderly. "Snape walked in and saw all the blood. He didn't appreciate them making such a mess." She dabbed his cheek again. "Thanks for sticking up for me, Neville." She stroked the uninjured part of his cheek and then proceeded to dab again with the cloth. "I find that I would rather have people defend me. It's much more satisfactory than them stealing my socks."
"You didn't have to," Luna said. "Because you saved me, your cheeks…" Her hand brushed over the gash in his face and he flinched.
"Scars will fade," Neville muttered, his eyes glassing over. "But losing you would not."
"You like me a lot," Luna said.
Neville didn't reply to her acute observation. He didn't need to confirm to her that his feelings were just as she predicted they were. He had a particular soft spot for her that had built steadily last year. After all, they did spend a lot of time together in the months before Dumbledore's death. Most of all, he didn't reply because it wasn't really a question. The only real inquiry that mattered now to him was whether or not she felt the same way.
He didn't blush nor did he express any embarrassment. This was a mark of the changes he had been going through since Bellatrix had escaped Azkaban, since he fought at the Ministry, and since he defended Hogwarts on a daily basis now. This was the new Neville that Ginny had claimed she admired.
Luna smiled at his silence, but her gaze went skyward towards one of the Christmas decorations above Neville's bed. Neville followed her eyes towards it and noticed the mistletoe. Neville wasn't sure how it ended up there, but he suspected Peeves' habit of placing it in random places at Christmastime had extended into the hospital wing.
"Mistletoe," she said.
"You should take it down, Luna," Neville said quietly. "We don't want Nargles to affect us while we're sleeping."
"You're silly." She touched Neville's arm. "Nargles can't do anything to you while you sleep." She peered again at the mistletoe. "Did you know that there's a Christmas tradition about kissing beneath mistletoe? Harry and Cho did it back in the Room of Requirement."
Neville knew about this tradition at the moment he noticed the decoration seconds ago. Wild thoughts were running through his mind; anticipation teasing him.
"I hear kissing is really nice," Luna continued in her notoriously innocent way. "Ginny really likes it, at least." Her eyes repositioned themselves on Neville's face. "I don't suppose we should break traditions. It might bring us years of bad luck."
Neville dared not move or breathe as if the words that were being spoken and the actions that might take place had a direct connection. He swallowed heavily, hoping she would stop talking and relieve him of this torture she performed without the aid of a wand.
"It would be your first kiss," Luna said thoughtfully. Without much warning, she bent closer to Neville's face. "That's okay. It's my first time, too."
At the second she closed the gap, Neville caught Ginny quickly looking away from them. He ignored her obvious eavesdropping and enjoyed the kiss he had desired for months. As Luna pulled away, she smiled lopsidedly and placed the dittany on the bedside. She waved in a way that made Neville's heart flutter and she left the room.
Neville looked over at Ginny. "You can stop pretending you're asleep now," Neville said.
She sat up and winced. She turned with a smirk on her face. Neville suspected she had noticed the attraction he felt towards the Ravenclaw. This was confirmed when she asked, "Have you liked her for a long time?"
Neville nodded. "You know how observant she is," he replied. "We spent most of our time together last year, but with Dumbledore's death and You-Know-Who taking over and our rebellion, there just seemed to be more important things to worry about than whether or not she shared my feelings."
"You Gryffindors and your nobility."
"So was that…?" She pointed to the mistletoe and back to Neville, perhaps hoping that her two closest friends had found love in the midst of such heartache.
"I don't know."
"She kissed you."
"There was mistletoe."
"Are you telling me you let her walk away without finding out how she felt?"
This time, Neville did look sheepish and ashamed. "I guess I did," he said, straightening up. He furrowed his brow and looked lost in thought. "I… I'll ask her on the train ride home tomorrow."
The truth is that Neville never did get a chance to ask her. She never reached Platform 9 ¾. Not long into their ride, Luna had turned up missing and Neville was furious. The pain that he felt for her absence was unlike anything he had ever felt before.
"Dad, are you okay?"
Neville took a second to realize that he was no longer on the train ride home for Christmas break. He looked around and found that he was surrounded by plenty of books and eager students. He glanced down and saw his eleven-year-old son, his features resembling a miniature version of himself.
"What, Frank?" Neville asked.
"You look lost, Dad," Frank said. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I was just reminiscing," Neville replied.
Frank looked satisfied with the answer. "Look, Dad, look what's on the list!" he exclaimed, holding up the same book that inspired his flashback. "Do you think I really need to buy this new edition?"
"Luna and Rolf haven't sent the new edition yet," Neville replied. "You know how your godparents are, busy with the Nargles."
"Okay, Dad!" Frank replied, turning from his father and rushing towards his other parent.
It was amazing how one small thing could transport him back to something so long ago. He and Luna were still friends, of course, and they always would be. They exchanged letters on a regular basis and even were godparents to each others' children. They would always be close, but Neville no longer felt that same love for that he had so long ago. It was sometimes interesting to think what could have been.
He would never trade Hannah and Frank for anything. As he took the first step towards his pregnant wife, Neville's first kiss faded into a forgotten void.