Neville's been falling his entire life.
When he was seven, he fell into the pool at his Uncle's house during an Easter party and almost drowned. Luckily, his cousin's love interest at the time had been muggle born and had spent her summers lifeguarding. She had jumped in and saved him, though Neville had torn her pretty, flowered dress with his frantic kicking. He felt rather guilty afterwards, but the feeling quickly faded as he sat wrapped in a towel in the kitchen while all his female relatives fussed over him and attempted to feed him all kinds of delicious treats.
When he was nine, he fell down the stairs and broke his arm in three places. As if that wasn't enough, he landed in his grandmother's prize-winning cactus. This led to a painful and rather humiliating night in St. Mungo's having his bones healed and needles pulled from most uncomfortable places.
Neville started at Hogwarts when he was eleven and that just brought more people to witness his frequent tumbles. Just in his first term, he lost track of how many times he tripped over an uneven patch in the floor of the Great Hall and fallen in front of everyone. He eventually learned to just pick himself up and pretend as if it hadn't happened. Anyway, by the thirteenth time people had gotten tired of watching him and didn't even laugh anymore.
He had fallen in the lake second year. This wouldn't have been such a big deal, except it happened to be the dead of winter. Of course, being the dead of winter, the lake had been covered with a layer of ice. Given Neville's luck, however, he somehow managed to hit the ice hard enough to fall through into the freezing water beneath. He probably wouldn't have made it out either, if it hadn't been for Professor Flitwick taking a stroll through the snow, who had happened to notice the rather large crack that resounded when Neville broke the ice. Being the quick thinking man that he was, Flitwick quickly performed a warming charm, causing the ice to melt, and levitated Neville safely out of the lake, lest he be stuck in the clutches of the Giant Squid and other marine creatures forever.
Neville had fallen out of the Quidditch stands third year. Yes, that was rather embarrassing. But the game was just so engrossing and he was leaning over the edge trying to get a good view. Of course, someone had picked just the moment when Neville was most unbalanced to knock into him, sending him tumbling down to most certain death. Or it would have been most certain death if it hadn't been for a row of Hufflepuff fifth years who had most graciously cushioned his fall. Not that they had a choice. They were actually most upset to have a Gryffindor suddenly fall on top of them, but there wasn't much Neville could do.
Fourth year, he managed to fall off a staircase. Yes, off, not down. And to make matters worse, it was a moving staircase. Neville had been calmly climbing the stairs on the way back up to the Gryffindor dormitory after dinner when the staircase decided it would rather lead to the right hand corridor on the sixth floor than the left. Neville had been so surprised, he jumped a little and stumbled right off the end of the staircase, falling two floors before another staircase seemed to take pity on him and swung out to catch him. That particular incident led to a night in the Hospital Wing and a couple of bruises that just wouldn't go away despite Madame Pomfrey's greatest efforts.
Fifth year, Neville did a different kind of falling. He fell for Harry Potter. Metaphorically, that is. Well, literally, too, but that's a different story. Neville supposed he had always had something of a crush on Mister Potter, but his innocent mind had interpreted it as hero worship. After all. Harry was everything Neville wanted to be and everything he had been told he should be his entire life. But fifth year, it slowly dawned on him why his heart beat faster when he glimpsed Harry's thin chest as he dressed in the morning. Why he felt like he was going to be sick every time Harry sat down next to him. It was love, or as close to it as fifteen-year-old boys get.
Neville's not sure (because the fall into the cactus was pretty painful), but he thinks this type of emotional falling hurts more than any of the physical falls he suffers on an almost daily basis. It rips and tears at his insides more than the physical falls ever do to his outsides. There are times Neville can barely look at Harry, and ends up staring at the ground when Harry speaks to him. Luckily, everyone seems to chock this up to Neville's nervous nature and no one notices the way Neville blushes when Harry compliments him. Neville has his heart shredded fifth year in a way his constant stumbles never could.
Sixth year, Neville (still yearning for Harry) gets into something of an uncomfortable situation with the boy of his dreams. This situation, of course, includes falling. Neville's just walking along one Friday, reveling in the fact that he has a couple of days to relax over the weekend. Well, relax as much as he can with all the work he has to get done. (He's sure he has more work this weekend than he's had the rest of his weekends this year combined. How is he expected to get all it done? Especially when he can't concentrate within twenty feet of Harry, who seems to be everywhere.) Anyway, he's just walking along, thinking of the way Harry's eyes look when he laughs and admonishing himself for behaving like a girl, when he trips. Now, Neville is used to tripping, but usually there's something for him to trip over. This time, the floor is devoid of any bumps, rises, or objects of any sort that might have caused him to stumble. (Neville knows because he later goes back to thank the offending object.) The moment Neville feels his feet slip out from under him, he resigns himself to hitting the ground fairly hard and hopefully not bruising himself too badly, 'cause he suspects Madame Pomfrey is getting rather sick of him.
Neville does not land on the hard ground, however. Rather, he collides with something soft and warm that quickly grips his arms to stop him from any more falling. Neville stammers out a thank you, looking at the feet of his rescuer. Their shoes are rather worn and there's something written in shimmering ink around the bottom of the left one.
"No problem, Neville." A voice says, startling Neville out of trying to make out the words on the shoes.
"H-Harry!" Neville exclaims, pushing himself off of Harry's chest and standing upright. He can't even imagine how red his face is right now. "Thanks for catching me! You know I've got a bit of a falling problem and…" He says this all in a hurry and he doubts Harry can make out anything he's saying.
"Yeah." Harry says casually and Neville just about melts. "I reckon the floor has it out for you."
"Oh, not just the floor!" Neville says, trying not to look at Harry's face and consequently staring at a picture of two nuns whose habits have both been painted with flowers and are whispering together, pointing at Harry and Neville. "I've fallen down on all different kinds of things. I fell off one of the staircases once!" Neville realizes as he says this that falling off a moving staircase is not necessarily something to be proud.
"I think I remember that!" Harry says, chuckling.
"I fell in the lake once, too." Neville continues, just because he's making Harry laugh. "Well, I've fallen in a couple of times, but this was in the winter and I fell through the ice. I would've died if Professor Flitwick hadn't saved me."
"We couldn't've had that, could we?" Harry asks, smiling at Neville.
"That's not the worst of it. I fell out of the Quidditch stands one year. I don't think you noticed, 'cause you were playing, but it caused quite an outrage with a group of Hufflepuffs when I fell on them."
"Was that the match against Ravenclaw? I remember seeing something fall through the air, but I couldn't tell what it was. It was you!"
"Yeah." Neville sighs. "There was another time I had to spend all night in St. Mungo's 'cause I fell into one of my grandmother's cactuses. I've still got the scars: little spots all over my…well, you don't really want to know."
Harry watches Neville carefully, a smile very different from the amused one he had been wearing crossing his face. "But what if I do?" Harry asks suddenly in a way that's almost…seductive. Neville's so surprised he tries to take a step backwards and, yes, falls. He attempts to grab onto Harry for support, but ends up grabbing a handful of Harry's robes and pulling him down with him.
Harry lands right on top of Neville when he falls, so close Neville can feel Harry's breath against his face. "I can see why you like falling so much." Harry says, wiggling just a little so his body is completely on top of Neville's. "It's quite nice down here."
"I don't like falling." Neville says. "But having you here definitely improves it." Neville can't believe he just said that. Did he really just say something flirtatious to Harry Potter?
"I'm glad you feel that way." Harry remarks and the next thing Neville knows, Harry's lips are pressed hard against his and he can't breath. This is probably not what most people think when the love of their life kisses them, but all Neville can think is 'I can't breath. And I can't breath because Harry Potter's tongue is in my mouth!"
When Harry finally pulls back, Neville is gasping for air, but in a complete state of rapture.
"I wouldn't mind falling so much," He observes, "if every fall ended like that one."
"Well," Harry replies, "We'll see what we can do."