Summary: It is the seventh year at Hogwarts for the golden trio, whose friendship is tighter than ever (at least for now). Hermione decides she wants to help her friend Neville get a date for the Valentine's Ball. While doing so, she manages to arouse envy in the heart of a certain black-haired, green-eyed Gryffindor. Pairings include H/Hr, R/L, and N/??? You'll have to read the story to find out who Neville ends up with. *winks*
Disclaimer: Much to my dismay, Harry Potter and the entire magical Hogwarts world are still not mine. Rats. Perhaps in another dimension or parallel universe they could belong to me? In this one, however, JK Rowling still holds that honour.
Author's Note: Thanks for being patient with me. I realise that it's been a while between updates, but now that "Waking Up Harry" is finished, I will be working regularly on this story. You may expect updates every Friday at the latest, barring unforeseen complications, until the story is done. Also, this chapter contains a great deal of narrative, which is not my forte; nevertheless, I hope you enjoy the chapter!
HELPING NEVILLE
Chapter Two
The rest of class passed without further incident, although Harry found concentration difficult. Even when their DADA professor announced that the class was ready for some very advanced magic, including one exciting and complicated curse-repelling spell, Harry could not stop thinking about the note Hermione had passed to Neville. What had the note said exactly? Why didn't she mention it to him and to Ron? Did she have something to hide? What was she up to? What were they up to? The idea of Hermione and Neville being a 'they' was not a happy one and this also occupied Harry's mind for quite a while. Hermione kept hissing at him to 'pay attention, Harry, this is really important'; Harry, however, was too preoccupied to acknowledge her.
Immediately after class was over, Ron and Neville ran off to Herbology class, Ron having received strict instructions from Harry to find out what he could from Neville. For his part, Harry was determined to get Hermione to come clean and explain why on earth she was writing notes to Neville of all people. With this in mind, he cleared his throat rather loudly.
"Ummm, Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?" Hermione was busily packing up her enormous book-bag.
"So, that note you passed to, er, to Neville. What was that all about then?" Harry asked.
"Oh that? Nothing really; I just want him to take a walk with me later, that's all."
"A walk?" Harry frowned. He found that he didn't much like the idea of Hermione asking Neville to go for a walk, but wasn't quite sure why the idea bothered him. After all, he liked Neville and he certainly liked Hermione. Why shouldn't they take a walk together?
"Yes, around the lake. It's a lovely day."
Harry agreed that it was a lovely day. He did not, however, think that just because it was a lovely day this necessarily meant that Hermione needed to take a walk on said lovely day. Around the lake. With Neville. Neville. Hmmmm. He frowned some more. With a start, he realised that Hermione was still talking.
". . . the best place to have a nice chat, don't you think?"
"W-what?" Harry stammered.
"I said," Hermione repeated, rolling her eyes, "that you and I have had some good talks under that knarled old oak tree beside the lake. It's definitely the best place for a nice chat. Now," she continued, tugging on Harry's arm, "we're going to be late for Potions if we don't step on it, Harry. Come on."
But Harry stubbornly held back. "Why do you want to talk to Neville?" he blurted out.
"Honestly, Harry. I think that's between Neville and I, don't you?"
Actually, no, Harry didn't, and he really hated it when she said 'Honestly, Harry,' in that exasperated tone of voice.
"Now will you please hurry up? You know how Snape is when people are late to class. And this time, please try and pay attention in class! This is our N.E.W.T. year after all and you simply cannot afford to waste time fooling around or daydreaming."
Frowning, Harry allowed Hermione to lead the way.
* * * * *
Harry was not having a good day. No, he wasn't. First of all, there was the note-passing. Then, before his conversation with Hermione could be concluded to his satisfaction, she had hustled him to Potions. To everyone's surprise, not the least his own, Harry had achieved an "O" in his Potions O.W.L., which was why he was now struggling along, with Hermione's help, in Snape's N.E.W.T.-level class.
Always a miserable experience, today's Potions class was no exception. Despite an intensive effort on Hermione's part to get him to focus, Harry managed to produce a foul-smelling gloppy mess, rather than the pale yellow, sweet-scented potion to be found in Hermione's cauldron. Snape had taken great pleasure in pointing out Harry's disastrous mess (to the delight of the Slytherins) and in giving him a mark of "0" for the lesson. Snape had then proceeded to take 20 points from Gryffindor for Harry's poor showing in class. This of course made him immensely popular with Gryffindor.
As if the fiasco in Potions was not enough for one day, Harry had been forced to endure ninety minutes of misery in Transfiguration. Usually McGonagall's class was one of his favourites, but Harry's failure to apply himself on this day did not go unnoticed, especially when he took twice as long as everyone else to transfigure his feather into a chicken. Finally, to add insult to injury, the stupid chicken had ended up with purple fur instead of yellow feathers and the entire class had burst out laughing at him. Even McGonagall had laughed, although her amusement didn't stop her from assigning him extra homework, he noted bitterly.
All of this was, without a doubt, Hermione's fault. Well, maybe not entirely Hermione's fault, he thought fairly. Obviously Neville had a part to play in this as well. What had Neville done to make Hermione want to walk around the lake with him, or to have a "nice chat" under their (meaning Harry and Hermione's) tree?
Truth to tell, Harry was also a bit perturbed over his own reaction to the whole situation. Harry liked Neville a lot; why then, was the thought of Neville and Hermione taking a walk such an upsetting one? Deep down, Harry knew he was overreacting, but he couldn't seem to help himself. The entire matter was most unsettling. He thought back over the past couple of hours . . .
Unable to restrain his curiosity, Harry had gone up to the Astronomy tower after dinner. From there he had just happened to catch a glimpse of Neville and Hermione walking, as planned, around the lake. After one time around, they had sat down under a tree (his and Hermione's tree!) and settled in for over an hour.
As far as Harry could tell, they appeared to spend the entire time talking-about what, he had no idea. Actually, Hermione did most of the talking. Typical, he thought fondly. Focusing one of the telescopes in order to get a clearer view, he watched as Neville's expression went from puzzled to uncomfortable to happy-all within the space of about ten minutes.
While Hermione continued to chatter on animatedly, Harry enjoyed watching the little characteristics that were so Hermione-like: the biting of the lower lip, the waving of the hands and pointing of the finger ('Ha! That meant she was in lecture mode-and for a change Neville was on the receiving end instead of Harry or Ron), and lastly, the patting of the arm (Harry frowned; why was Hermione patting Neville's arm? And why exactly did this bother him, Harry? Was Neville blushing? Why was Neville blushing?). The entire matter was disturbing and baffling. When he saw them get up, presumably to return to the castle, Harry had raced down to the common room, not wanting to be caught spying.
Snapping back into the present, Harry sank down lower into the squishy couch by the fire, glowering at the flames dancing in the grate. He had been sitting here for almost thirty minutes and Hermione and Neville were still not back yet. Harry's book-bag lay neglected by his side, stuffed full of books, quills, parchment, and homework assignments. It sat there, mocking him. He glared at it for a moment and then a small smile formed on his lips as he heard Hermione's voice in his mind, haranguing him for neglecting his studies. He really should get to work; there was that extra homework on feather transfiguration for McGonagall, the foot of parchment for Charms, the potion research for Snape . . . the problem was that he just could not get the idea of Hermione and Neville out of his mind. Where on earth were they? Had they gone back for another walk by the lake, or maybe they were having another little chat under Harry and Hermione's tree?
"Oy there, Harry," Ron's cheerful voice interrupted his ruminations. "Hard at work, I see?"
A grunt from Harry greeted this comment.
Oblivious to Harry's mood, Ron threw himself down onto a nearby chair and let out a gusty sigh.
"Can you believe that slimy git?" he asked, referring to Snape. "Giving you a research project two days before the match?" Gryffindor was playing Ravenclaw this coming Saturday in the first Quidditch match of the season, and Ron, as captain, was riding them hard. He had been quite put-out when the rest of team had begged for one night off to catch up on homework. Only after Ginny pointed out that there would be no team if they all flunked out did Ron finally capitulate. "Of course, what does he care, right? It's not as if Slytherin were playing."
Another grunt.
"Something eating you, mate?" Ron inquired with lifted brow. "Seem a bit grumpy."
"Hummmf."
Ron looked at him quizzically. "So, looks like you've made a lot of progress tonight on the homework. Glad to see you're taking advantage of the night off from Quidditch practice, eh?"
Grunt.
"Didn't you tell me McGonagall wanted that extra work handed in by tomorrow."
Grunt.
Ron grinned. If Harry was going to be a prat, then he, Ron, might as well have a bit of fun.
"Did you hear the news about Snape and Professor Sprout going at it in the library? Caused quite a scene, that did."
Grunt.
"How about that McGonagall, eh? Shagging with Hagrid and Dumbledore on the head table in the Great Hall during dinner?" Ron's grin widened.
Grunt.
"Did Ginny tell you she saw Neville snogging our Hermione down by the lake?"
"WHAT?" shouted Harry, jumping to his feet. "Neville and Hermione?!"
"Hey, settle down there, mate," Ron laughed. "I'm just yanking your chain. Got your attention though, didn't I?"
Harry collapsed back onto the couch cushions and glared at Ron, who was doubled over with laughter.
"Sorry, Harry," he gasped out between howls. "It's just-it's just . . . you should have seen your face! Priceless!" He continued to chuckle, holding his sides.
"Yeah, real bloody hilarious, Ron," Harry noted, his eyes shooting daggers at his friend. "What if it were true, though? How funny would you find the whole thing then?"
"Oh, come on, Harry," Ron protested. "You can't be serious--Hermione and Neville? Snogging? Give me a break."
"Oh yeah," Harry responded somewhat bitterly. "You think I'm mad, do you? What did Neville tell you about the note Hermione passed him in class?"
"He wouldn't say," Ron said. "He got all red and sweaty and then told me it was private." He frowned. "Harry, you don't really think that Hermione and Neville . . ."
"Hummmf," was the intelligent response. "Why else would he refuse to tell you?"
"I dunno," Ron looked puzzled for a moment; then his face cleared. "You know, Hermione is always helping him with school-with homework and stuff. It's probably something to do with homework and he's embarrassed. Not easy for a bloke to admit he needs help now, is it?"
"Ron," Harry said impatiently. "This is Neville we're talking about here! Since when has he, or anyone really, been embarrassed to accept help from Hermione with homework? Never, that's when! It's something else."
At that moment the two objects of their discussion came through the portrait-hole. Hermione was smiling in what looked like satisfaction, while Neville appeared bemused, dazed, and happy all at the same time.
"Hi Harry, hi Ron," Hermione greeted them cheerfully.
"Hey guys," said Ron.
"So," Harry said somewhat loudly. "Have a nice walk?"
"Umm, yes, thank you" Neville stammered.
"Yes. It's a lovely night," Hermione said composedly.
"What about all your homework?" Harry demanded. "Have all that done already, do you?"
"Homework?" Neville asked, bemused. "N-no. How could we have done our homework? We were taking a walk."
"Ha!" Harry said triumphantly. "Exactly. Exactly!"
"Right then," Neville hesitated, giving Harry a strange look. "Right . . . Well, I guess I'd better go upstairs and get started on it then." He smiled uncertainly. "G'night Ron, Harry. Goodnight, Hermione. And thanks a lot-for everything." With that, he headed somewhat hurriedly for the stairs and the sanctity of his dormitory.
"Thanks? Thanks for what?" demanded Harry.
Hermione's eyes bored into him.
"Harry Potter! What was that all about?" Hermione asked, annoyed.
"What was all what about?" was the rather ungrammatical response.
"You were interrogating Neville."
"What do you mean, 'interrogating' Neville," asked Harry indignantly. "I wasn't 'interrogating' him. I was merely curious as to how he could waste time on a walk when he has a pile of homework to do, that's all," he nodded self-righteously.
"And how is that your business?" inquired Hermione.
"Maybe we should get started on it, then," suggested Ron, diplomatically. Someone had to step in. Hermione was getting that look. Although Ron may have enjoyed seeing Harry at the receiving end of her wrath for a change, he didn't want his Seeker upset two days before a big match, now did he?
"It's my business because he's in our House, and if he doesn't do his work then Gryffindor will lose points!" Harry said with eyes narrowed. "Maybe I don't want him running around and wasting time on walks when he needs to study."
"Losing points for Gryffindor, Harry? Would that be like the way you lost points for us today in Potions? And when you refer to Neville wasting time on walks," Hermione continued in a dangerously sweet tone, "I assume you mean wasting time on walks with me?"
"Uh, guys?" Ron asked, eyes darting back and forth in confusion. "Hello?"
"Yes! No!" Harry shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "Don't try to confuse me. You know what I mean, Hermione."
"No, I don't think I do; pray, enlighten me. That is, as long as you are not too confused."
If there was anything Harry hated more than hearing Hermione say, 'Honestly,' it was when she said, 'pray, enlighten me,' in that infuriating tone.
"Oh come on, Hermione. Don't play dumb with me," Harry said angrily. "You know exactly what I mean."
"So, how about that homework? Shall we head over to the library?" Ron asked hopefully.
"Honestly, Ronald!" Hermione turned to glare at him. "What's come over you lately? You've become absolutely anal about studies and homework."
"What," asked Ron, flummoxed. "ME?" Nobody had ever accused him of that before.
But neither Harry nor Hermione were paying him any attention. They were both on their feet, fists clenched, faces red.
"You think I'm 'dumb' then, do you Harry?"
"I never said that," Harry sputtered. "Don't you twist my words around, Hermione Granger. I said you were playing dumb. That's not the same as being dumb, and you know it."
While Hermione fumed, temporarily speechless with anger, Harry continued doggedly on. "I asked you a simple question. What were you doing walking around the lake with Neville?"
"And I," Hermione responded, finding her voice again, "don't see how that is any of your affair, Harry Potter!"
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah!"
"Guys," Ron made one last attempt to stop the gathering storm. He could tell that something was wrong with the two of them, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what.
They both ignored him. The air in the common room had turned electric, every eye in the Gryffindor common room focused on the uncommon sight of a (heated) quarrel between the Boy-Who-Lived and the Girl-Who-Up-Until-Now-Had-Always-Supported-Him.
"You don't, eh?" Harry said furiously, turning very red and shaking with frustration. "You don't? HA!" he shouted, whirling around and beginning to stomp upstairs.
"Don't you raise your voice to me, Harry Potter!" Hermione yelled after his departing figure. She swiped angrily at the tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. "Don't blame me for your moods! Just who do you think you are anyway? Huh! Honestly, you are such a . . . such a . . . GUY!" And with that final and highly intelligent comment, she turned and stormed up the stairs to her dormitory.
"Don't mind me," Ron stated in defeat. "I'm not really here, actually."