This is for the Hogwarts Games 2012 Women's Football. My pairing was Neville/Ginny.
Also for the Pairing Diversity Boot Camp Challenge. Prompt: retrospectively
Neville stumbled clumsily through the portrait hole and made his way over to the fireplace. He'd just come back from a particularly brutal detention and a few people gasped over his appearance as he passed them. He knew his face must look as bad as it felt. He plopped down next to Ginny on the couch and gingerly held a hand up to his swollen jaw.
As soon as she looked up from her textbook, she practically dropped it on the floor. "Oh, Neville!"
"It's nothing," he said quickly, turning his face away.
She wouldn't have that. She reached down into her bag that was sitting by her feet and pulled out a small jar of suspicious smelling paste. "Put some of this on it," she urged. He eyed the jar skeptically as she took the top off and dipped her hand into it. "It's something Fred and George use when they experiment. They tend to get a lot of bruises," she explained.
Normally, something to do with Fred and George would have been a first sign that he should decline the offer, but Neville decided he could trust Ginny's judgment. He winced slightly as she tenderly applied some of the paste to his throbbing jaw.
"Were the Carrows particularly horrible tonight?" she asked conversationally.
Neville shrugged. "No more than usual, I suppose." He felt the swelling begin to go down almost immediately and he started to relax. He couldn't help but notice that her touch was gentle and soothing.
She drew her hand away and studied him a moment as she closed the jar and put it back in her bag. "What?" he asked, blushing under her gaze.
She shook her head. "Nothing. Just…remember when you asked me to the Yule Ball?"
"Of course," he replied. How could he forget? He'd been so grateful when she'd said yes, especially since it was common knowledge that she had a soft spot for Harry. He'd been pleasantly surprised that she'd accepted so readily.
Ginny continued. "Do you remember telling me after the Ball was over that asking me felt like the bravest thing you'd ever done?"
Neville laughed at the memory. Retrospectively, the idea that it was brave to ask Ginny to a silly ball was foolish. Girls didn't seem so threatening now. They were the least of his worries, really.
"Look at you now," Ginny went on. "Standing up to Death Eaters and leading a rebel army. Typical Gryffindor." She pretended not to notice how red his face had gone and instead leaned her head on his shoulder and went back to reading her book. "I think your parents would be proud," she said quietly.
Neville didn't respond, not entirely sure what to say, and after an awkward pause, she mumbled an apology. "I'm sorry. I know you don't like to talk about…"
"It's okay," he said, cutting her off. He put a reassuring arm around her shoulder. "And, er, thanks."
They sat like that for a while longer until they both realized it was late and they should probably go to sleep. Neville forced himself to climb the stairs and he could already tell he would feel the aftermath of detention in the morning. He would be sure not to show it, though he had a suspicion that at least Ginny would know better. As he tumbled into bed that night, her words played over and over in his mind and he desperately hoped that they were true. And later he dreamed of his parents' faces.
They were proud.