“Do you love this girl?” Augusta Longbottom asked from the bed.
Neville blushed and nodded.
“Blushing is not fitting of a strong Gryffindor boy,” she reminded him.
“Yes’m,” Neville mumbled.
“Speak up, boy,” Augusta commanded.
“Yes, ma’am, I love Luna Lovegood. I wish to marry her,” he said with as much confidence as he could gather.
“Have you asked her yet?” Augusta asked.
Neville shook his head, then remembered his manners. “No, ma’am, I haven’t.”
It seemed to Augusta that this had happened before. She wondered just how long it had been since her son had been in the same position her grandson was currently in. The years seemed to blend together in her old age, and Neville looked so much like his father.
He lacked Frank’s confidence, however. Somehow, the boy had grown up to be soft and quiet. He was practically a squib, not at all the grandson Augusta would have hoped for. Still, she had to admit that he had a charm that was all his own, and he was rather talented with the plants.
The old woman gestured toward her dresser. “Bring my jewelry box here,” she commanded, and he did as he was told.
She opened the bottom drawer and took out a ring. “It was mine, and your mothers, and now it will belong to the Lovegood girl,” she said. “You tell her it has been in the family for years, and she is to take care of it, and pass it to her son’s wife when the time comes.”
“Oh, I don’t know about-“ Neville began, but he was cut off by Augusta’s sharp tongue.
“You tell her that,” she said a bit too harshly. She placed the engagement ring in Neville’s hand, and sent him off.
Not knowing what else to do, Neville closed his fingers around it and left.
“So you see?” Luna said to her son. “This is important. Family is important. You will give the ring to this girl you want to marry, then she will give it to her son.”
She placed the ring in his hand, and he thanked his parents. He rushed off, presumably to ask the girl for her hand in mirage.
Neville ran a hand through his wife’s long hair affectionately.
“He’s so much like you,” she commented. “Nervous all the time, but he’s got his own sort of confidence.”
Neville blushed. He had been married to Luna for thirty years, but she could still make him blush. She giggled, took his hand in hers, and brought it to her lips.
“He’ll be fine,” Neville said, more for his own reassurance than hers.
“Yes,” she agreed.
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