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Luna felt something odd around Neville.

Perhaps it was the way he smiled, with his crooked teeth poking out.

Or the way how when he was confused, his head tilted and his eyes gleamed.

Or how he thought of others before himself.

Or any of the other things that made him amazing, really.

Whatever it was, it made her head feel full of wrack-spurts and her stomach full of rapidly growing plants. It made her face flush, her voice higher.

Neville already knew he had a crush on Luna.

Luna the brave, the awesome, the one he felt his stomach turn when he was around.

Just...
Luna.

He loved her, really.

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Hermione was the first to know.

It was painfully obvious; the way Neville and Luna seemed to stare at each other longingly, only to nervously flutter away like a butterfly.

She knew.

Even if the two love-sick idiots didn't.

Ron was the second to know.

Partly because he'd figured it out by himself.

And partly because Luna told him.

She'd told him all about the way she felt when 'A person' was near, and asked him what he'd thought.

It sounded an awful lot like a crush.

He'd told her so, and she'd replied she had no desire to crush Neville, than walked out.

He knew

even if these two love-sick silly geese didn't.

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Harry had no idea why Ron and Hermione shared a knowing glance whenever Luna and Neville looked in the other's direction.

He asked Ginny, but she laughed and kissed his cheek before she went back to studying.

Harry didn't know.

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Ginny knew.

Ginny knew because she spent almost every night listening to the rants of all the parties involved. 

She spent Mondays listening to Neville 'vent' about his crush on Luna, Tuesdays hoping her oblivious boyfriend would get it someday, Wednesdays listening to Hermione rant about how the two needed to get together while Ron nodded along, Thursdays plotting with Fred and George, and Fridays listening to Luna talk about Neville.

She knew.

And she was impatient for these dorks.