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 again to everyone for reviewing-you rock, each and every one of you! I feel terrible about not responding to all my reviews but still haven't given up on eventually doing so. I feel that if someone takes the time to review, the least I can do is acknowledge their effort. *smiles*
I'm not completely happy with this chapter and it's a bit shorter than I'd like, but given the option of not posting at all this week, or posting what I have, I chose the second option-because I promised. I've taken on a heavier teaching load this semester, and free time is scarce. Thank heavens for insomnia, or I'd never get my writing done, LOL! That being said, the next installment will be up either next Friday or the one after. I'd rather wait and do a better job, so if inspiration does not strike in time for March 4 (although I will do my best), look for an update on the 11th.
Okay, enough of my babbling. Without further ado, I present Chapter Four of,
HELPING NEVILLE
Chapter Four
Neville was starting to have second thoughts about this whole help-Neville-get-a-date-for-the-ball business.
When Hermione first approached him with the idea of "fixing him up" with the girl of his choice for the Valentine's ball, Neville had been both shocked and pleased. It had seemed like such a great idea at the time-Hermione could help him discover what kind of girl he liked (truth be told, one of the girls he really liked, Hermione, was already taken even though she didn't know it yet), find out which (if any) girl was interested in him, and then help him get up the courage to ask said girl out.
The shocking part of this whole thing was not the fact that Hermione wanted to help him; she had always been there for him, ever since that very first day over six years ago when a shy, scared eleven-year-old had lost his toad on the Hogwarts Express. No, what had shocked Neville had been his own reaction to the affair. He had been surprised to realise how much he was looking forward to entering the strange and exciting world of girls. Although Neville had no problem confronting Death Eaters, dark Lords, or evil ferrets when his friends were in danger, the thought of putting himself on the line and asking out a-gulp--girl, was terrifying. Still, he had decided optimistically, with the smartest witch in over a century helping him out, how could he fail?
Unfortunately, after that initial rush of exhilaration Neville had come plunging back down to earth. Why? Simple answer-the Harry Problem.
Everything had started in DADA class, with Hermione's mysterious note:
'Neville,
We need to talk. Meet me after dinner by our tree (mine and Harry's) beside the lake. Do not show this to anyone! I'll explain everything later.
Hermione'
Harry's curiosity and - jealousy? - over Neville getting a "secret" note from Hermione had been obvious; then had come the walk by the lake.
Nothing strikes fear into the heart of any man or boy like the ominous words 'we need to talk,' and Neville was no different. What did Hermione mean by 'we need to talk?' He and Hermione were just school buddies, so Neville was safe there. Hermione had two obsessions: school and Harry Potter-and-the-whole-Voldemort/Death Eater-menace. Maybe she wanted to talk to him about that? Perhaps Hermione had made some magnificent discovery about Voldemort and how Harry could defeat him? But then why talk to him, to Neville? Wouldn't she be better off talking about this to Harry? The entire situation was most perplexing.
When he and Hermione did finally take that walk and he found out that the subject of her interest was him and how she could help him find a date for the Valentine's ball, Neville had been embarrassed by the myriad questions Hermione had fired at him. Hermione being the organised young lady that she was, a list of questions-a very long list-had been produced with a flourish. However, under Hermione's skillful interrogation during their hour-long talk, Neville had shyly admitted that, yes, he preferred girls who were more confident and secure (probably because he himself was not) and no, he didn't really believe he was partial to any particular physical type. This had earned him a nod of approval from his curly-haired matchmaker.
"I'm happy to see you have more depth than another friend of mine whom I shall not name! Just because a girl isn't perfect in every way does not make her a troll," was Hermione's scornful observation, "although some people certainly don't seem to understand that."
Neville had too much sense to get into a discussion of Ron's short-comings with Hermione, especially when she got that militant gleam in her eye. He would just as soon return to the castle before midnight and with all his body parts intact, thank you very much!
No, their talk had gone well. Hermione's brisk and business-like manner had quickly put him at his ease. The problems started when they returned to the Gryffindor common room-and Harry Potter!
After sharing a dormitory with Harry for over six years, Neville thought that he and Harry knew each other pretty well, and the two boys liked and respected each other. Harry was always quick to take Neville's part when the other boys teased him about Trevor, or girls, or his propensity for blowing up cauldrons in Potions. (Neville had been very shocked and pleased to net an "Exceeds Expectations" in his Potions O.W.L. When not forced to perform under Snape's malignant gaze, Neville was quite good at Potions; fortunately however, not good enough to get a mark of "Outstanding." The "E" had satisfied his formidable grandmother while at the same time ensuring that Potions with Snape was a thing of the past-an enormous relief!)
Up until now, Neville had never personally encountered this Harry: suspicious, intimidating, and jealous! Yes, Neville knew without a doubt that Harry was jealous. If the whole situation wasn't so unnerving, Neville might have enjoyed watching Harry's stiff-armed "don't piss on my territory" approach to any chap daring to pay attention to Hermione.
The problem was that Harry obviously did not realise his true feelings yet and had convinced himself that his anger over Neville's "relationship" with Hermione was based on nothing more that the righteous worry of an overprotective brother. Neville wondered how such a powerful wizard as Harry could be so clueless when it came to his own feelings. One day, Neville mused, Harry would stop fooling himself and understand that his possessive feelings for Hermione went far and beyond mere friendship.
Hermione's failure to recognise her own position vis-à-vis Harry was more surprising. Generally speaking, Hermione was an introspective girl who appeared to have no difficulty untangling the web of teenage emotions, whether her own or those of anyone else. When it came to Harry, however, Neville suspected that Hermione was involved in an intricate game of self-deceit. Being the smart witch that she was, chances were that she refused rather than failed to see the truth about Harry and her feelings towards him.
Be that as it may, after that first talk and walk around the lake with Hermione, Neville was quite taken aback to find himself in the Gryffindor common room being grilled by The Grand Inquisitor, aka Harry James Potter. Luckily he managed to make his escape when Harry switched his wrath over to Hermione. Neville didn't hear much of the bickering between the two best friends, though. Once he reached the sanctity of the seventh-year dormitory, he had leapt into bed, thrust the bed-curtains shut, and placed an Imperturbable Charm around the entire bed so he could do his homework in peace without fear of further harassment by an irritable Harry.
Nevertheless, the next day Hermione had regaled him with the entire story.
"I don't know what has gotten into him," she had said indignantly. Then she proceeded to rave on about Harry's "idiotic" behaviour and sudden obsession with homework.
"He's never acted like this before," she concluded crossly. "Honestly! You'd think I was a five-year-old and a total nitwit! First he gives me the third degree about my conversation with you and then he has the unspeakable gall to accuse me of playing dumb! Playing dumb! Really! I ask you: he has some nerve, doesn't he?" she demanded fiercely.
Having a keen desire for self-preservation, Neville didn't say a word.
* * * * *
The next few days had been interesting, to say the least. Hermione and Harry had bickered and sniped at each other at every free moment. When she wasn't quarreling with Harry, complaining about Harry, or asking Neville (rhetorically) what was wrong with Harry, Hermione was preoccupied with the Valentine's ball and her determination to find Neville a date. In fact, in her obsession with Neville's "situation," Hermione seemed possessed of an almost missionary-like zeal formerly only seen by her fixations with Harry and S.P.E.W. Although Neville was touched and gratified by Hermione's interest in him, at times she was almost scary in her single-mindedness.
As he made his way to lunch, Neville wondered uneasily what new horrors were in store for him during another meal with jealous Harry and angry Hermione. Entering the Great Hall, he was pleasantly surprised to see Harry and Hermione sitting together and laughing as if nothing were wrong.
"Hi, Neville," Harry said politely, while Hermione beamed proudly at him. "Have a good class?"
"H-hi, Harry," Neville answered cautiously. "Yes, thank you."
"Here, I saved a seat for you." Hermione patted the chair on her other side and began filling a plate with beef stew. "There you go," she said, placing the loaded plate in front of him. "Eat quickly; we have things to do," she commanded.
"Things?" asked Harry brightly.
"Um," responded Neville.
Hermione shot Harry a warning look, and he subsided with a gleam in his eye that Neville didn't much like.
"Well, I see that you two have stopped arguing," Ginny interjected with a nod towards Harry and Hermione. "If you're not going to be a jealous prat any more, Harry, maybe we can finally have a peaceful meal."
Total silence as the Gryffindors stared at Ginny, appalled.
Then,
"Jealous? I'm not jealous," Harry said indignantly.
Ginny shot him a pointed look. "No? Then what's all the fuss been about then?"
Hermione was frantically trying to catch Ginny's eye; Neville slouched down into his chair, as if hoping it would swallow him up.
"You should just go ahead and ask . . ." finally noticing Hermione, who was subtly shaking her head back and forth, Ginny subsided.
"So," Ron said rather desperately, "what do you think about those Cannons, eh Harry? With that new chaser of theirs, bet they have a chance to duplicate that stunning win they had in 1892!"
"Huh?" Harry was still glaring at Ginny.
"You know, the Quidditch team? The Chudley Cannons? My favourite team?" Ron prompted him.
"What about them?" Harry continued to look intently at Ginny, who was frowning slightly.
"What is it, Harry?" she asked, noticing Harry's look.
His eyes narrowed and he leapt to his feet. "Can I have a word?" he asked her, indicating the door. "Outside."
"I'm not done with lunch."
"Please, Ginny?" he responded, more politely. "Can we talk in private? There's something I really want to ask you."
Hermione stiffened.
"Ask me something? All right then," Ginny said. Maybe if she went, the rest of the table could finish their lunch without the threat of another Harry-tantrum.
"Well," Hermione interrupted with a forced smile. "Time we were off then. Things to do. Come on Neville."
"But Hermione . . ."
"Come on," she commanded. With a sad look at his barely-touched stew, Neville complied.
"Why don't you let the poor guy finish his lunch, Hermione?" asked Ginny. "What's the big hurry about, anyway?"
"Oh, just things," Hermione said vaguely. "See you all later." And with that she grabbed a reluctant Neville by the arm and hauled him away from the table.
"She's going to starve him, she is," Ron noted with sympathy.
With puckered brow, Ginny got up and joined an impatient Harry who was waiting at the door.
"All right, Harry," Ginny said. "What's so important that you couldn't wait until we finished eating?"
"Them," Harry responded intelligently, beginning to pace fretfully back and forth, finally heading in the direction of the Common Room. "Hermione. Neville. What you said."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "What? Are you channeling Ron? Be a little clearer, Harry."
"Back there at the table . . . you called me a jealous prat. What were you on about, Gin? Jealous of what?"
"Oh come on, Harry," she said. "You're so jealous of Hermione and Neville that you can't see straight. Why don't you just ask Hermione to the Valentine's Ball and be done with it? Ouch!" Harry stopped so abruptly that Ginny banged into him.
"Me! Ask Hermione?" Harry squeaked. "To the ball?"
Another eye roll from Ginny. "Who were you planning on asking then?"
"Uh . . ."
"If you don't have anyone in mind, why not ask Hermione. After all, she is one of your best friends, right?" said Ginny, slyly.
Harry stared as her for a moment. "Welllll," he mused, "I guess I could ask her. Only as a friend, of course," he added hastily.
"Of course."
* * * * *
A/N: Don't get too complacent everyone-all is not as it seems. *evil cackle*