Sep 12 2008
A Meddlesome Sort
Title: A Meddlesome Sort
Author: dorrie6
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Neville
Rating: PG
Summary: Harry daydreams. Neville is meddlesome. This leads to fluff. For marginalia.
*****
A Meddlesome Sort
Harry Potter was oblivious. So much so, in fact, that even possessing the knowledge of this himself did not help to make it less true. He wondered occasionally how Voldemort had managed to miss it for all these years, as surely all he’d have had to do is ask anyone at Hogwarts about it and Harry would have been dead six years ago. The truth was, of course, that Harry was astonishingly easy to sneak up on. He’d always been a bit of a daydreamer, perhaps to make up for the severe unpleasantness of his nighttime dreams, but the daydreaming had become quite a habit. With the onset of puberty the habit had become embarrassingly frequent. As for what he was daydreaming about these days… well, that was simply unspeakable. He was certain his parents would have been scandalized had they lived… and his friends… just thinking about their potential reactions made him cringe. As it was, he hoped everyone just assumed he was thinking about Cho Chang, or new ways to kill Voldemort. These were respectable daydreams for a doomed 16-year-old wizard. He tried to convince himself that the daydreams meant nothing, but he knew that was rubbish. Sometimes, in his darker moments, he thought maybe Sirius was better off never having known the truth about him. Harry was sure he’d have been disappointed. He wondered if Sirius could see him from the afterlife and was disappointed anyway. It was thoughts like these that Harry brooded over while pretending to read his Potions text in a dim corner of the Common Room. It was thoughts like these that, as so often happened of late, he was startled from by a sudden voice to his right.
“Harry, you coming with?”
“What? No!” Harry jumped in his chair. It was Neville Longbottom this time. “I mean… what?” Now that Harry thought about it, it was always Neville Longbottom these days. In fact, he couldn’t think of the last time he’d been startled by anyone other than Neville. He supposed that everyone else had stopped bothering with him when he was obviously deep in thought. He liked that about them. Neville Longbottom was a meddlesome sort.
“Are you coming with us?” He gestured to a group of Gryffindors on their way out of the portrait hole.
“What’s…” Harry blinked. “I mean, why?”
Neville smiled. “It’s Jaci’s birthday- they’re having a party.”
“Jaci?” Harry blinked again, ending in a squint.
“Jaci Doppleganger?” Nevilled waited. “Ravenclaw, sixth year?” He waited again, then leaned in a little, lifting his eyebrow. “Cute redhead?” He drew back, crossing his arms over his chest. “None of this ringing a bell?”
Harry bit his lip. “Sorry, no.”
“You really need to get out more, you know.” Neville smiled again.
“Yes. Well. With everything… ” Harry stammered, blushing a bit. “I’m afraid I don’t pay much attention to… er…” He let out his breath. “Redheads.” He glanced nervously toward the portrait hole, and noticed that everyone else had gone.
Neville’s smile disappeared abruptly, his eyes searching. “Really.”
“Yes… well.” Harry lowered his eyes back to the book in his hands, hoping that Neville would leave as well.
Neville did not leave. “So…” He said, quietly. “What do you pay attention to?”
Harry looked up again. “Sorry?” He knew he sounded annoyed.
Nevilled was standing very still. “What is it that gets your attention, Harry? If not… redheads?”
“I’m…” Harry felt himself blush again. “Look, Neville, I’m really not sure what you’re getting at, but I…” All at once, Neville’s hands were on his shoulders, pulling him up from his chair, his Potions book was on the floor, and satin-smooth lips were moving over his chapped ones, tentative and moist. Soon, Harry’s own mouth was responding, his arms reaching around to pull Neville’s body closer, fingers working their way up to bury themselves in fine, silky hair. Everything about Neville was soft and rounded, childlike really, except his hands, grown callused and strong from planting and weeding. Harry found the contrast intoxicating. As their kisses grew more urgent, he moved one hand to burrow up under the back of Neville’s shirt, almost shuddering at the shock of cool, smooth skin. It was-
“Harry, you coming with?”
The voice sent him jumping in his chair with a gasp. His heart was pounding wildly as he lifted his eyes to the sight of Neville Longbottom, standing in front of him, just to his right.
“Sorry, did I startle you, Harry?” Neville smiled sheepishly.
Harry just stared.
Neville gestured to a group of students on their way out of the portrait hole. “Are you coming with us?”
Harry swallowed. “Jaci Doppleganger? Redhead?”
Neville looked surprised. “Yes, that’s right. I thought you’d maybe forgotten.” He paused. “Um. So… do you want to come along?” He really was quite endearing, Harry thought, a good sort of fellow, Neville Longbottom.
“No,” Harry answered, carefully closing his Potions text and setting it on the table next to him.
“Oh.” Neville’s face fell a little. “Well, okay. See you, then.” He turned to follow after the others, who were already gone.
Harry stood. “Wait, Neville. I have…” He paused nervously. “Um… I was wondering if you might be interested in doing something else?”
Neville brightened. “Oh? Well. Sure. I mean…” He looked to his shoes. “Like… like what?” He lifted his face back up to Harry’s, one eyebrow raised. Harry wondered if he could learn to do that.
Moving closer, Harry lifted one hand and placed it on Neville’s cheek. It was pink and soft as a child’s. He ran his thumb over Neville’s cheekbone and felt his own heart lurch.
Neville let out a long breath. “Oh.”
Harry brought their foreheads together. He could feel Neville’s warm breath on his face. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Neville whispered.
Harry’s chapped lips grazed Neville’s satin-smooth ones, parting them gently as his fingers moved around to weave themselves into fine, silky hair. Then everything else in the room fell away as strong hands found cool skin, and kisses grew deeper. It was Harry who finally pulled away, shaking and flushed. Neville’s eyes were wide and he was breathing heavily.
“Did you want to go…” Harry managed. “…Er, the party?”
Neville blinked. “Um. Maybe later. I’m sure Jaci won’t miss us. Y’know… for a while.”
“Right.”
As he sank back into the cushion of Neville’s body, it occurred to Harry that perhaps not all of his friends would object to his daydreams.