“Neville? You’ve got something on your nose. Right there.” Luna leaned in close enough that Neville wouldn’t be able to see that her own blush matched his tone for tone. Jam. It looked like jam. They weren’t supposed to sit with different houses but Gryffindor had always made an exception where she was concerned, because of how wide-eyed and sad Neville looked if they didn’t. Luna smiled, pushed a strand of her blond hair behind ears adorned with little ceramic radishes, and wiped her thumb across the tip of Neville’s nose. She licked it clean, and smiled again. “Raspberry.”