A/N: Ladies & gents, I am really sorry I haven't posted in like forever. And its partially because I hit a minor writer's block, but mostly because I've been busy - you know trying to assemble my life post high school. So I hope this is an adequate token of my apologies. Enjoy!
By the seventh invitation, Harry began to realize that Neville would only accept an official death certificate as an excuse not to come over for dinner at the newly formed Longbottom - Lovegood household.
The oddly perfect couple had decided to combine their respective households into one big happy home after it became obvious that the time spent apart would be better spent together. Between trying to rebuild the Lovegood's beloved country home (after the Death Eater attack) and keeping a close eye on Neville's gran to make sure she wasn't harassing the neighbors (again), on top of trying to finish their 7th year - you know without the Death Eater teachers or general world peril eating away their attention and nerves. Neville and Luna had overflowing mountains of work that left very little time for pleasure or rest, so why not just deal with it all together.
The poor owl, the one Luna rescued from a particularly sadistic Death Eater that always seemed to have one too many ruffled feathers, arrived early Monday morning with an attitude. Needless to say, it didn't take too kindly to being ignored by a depressed Harry Potter.
In Harry's defense, at least Monday was the first day he actually slept in his bed since Hermione left the week before. He spent a good half hour debating on his reply, but it didn't matter that much because Luna and Neville called him to let him know that they were excited to see him on Friday for a "feast he wouldn't forget." And to top that off, Neville's grandma called him later to tell him how excited she was to see "the greatest hero in history".
At this point, he couldn't not go even if he was dying. So he just nodded his head and passively accepted their initiation, totally spacing out when Neville started to ramble about some new discovery related to some new herb that he totally couldn't pronounce. During the ten minutes that elapsed with Harry kinda-sorta holding his cell phone half in his hand, half on the desk full of reports, he missed the list of attendants that Luna got in between Neville rambling and his 12 second pause for breath.
Call it arrogance or maybe selfishness, but by Tuesday afternoon, Harry was quite excited about the chance to reminisce about times when he was a hero, not a destructive friendship-ruining depressed man that had been furloughed because of 8 missed committee meetings and the lack of attempt at work i.e. the reports still sitting on his desk that were kinda-sorta supposed to be checked over, re-filed, and addressed at the meeting that might have been last Friday; Harry couldn't be sure. Not until that Tuesday morning when Kingsley called to tell him that "it's okay, it's a mistake we all make sometimes, though maybe not three times, but granted after all you've done, maybe it's time you had a break".
It wasn't until Wednesday night, that a sophomoric paranoia settled in his heart, because oh no, this is will require human interaction and I don't think I'm at that stage yet. I mean, come on, I barely function alone at home, how can I possibly pull myself together to do this. This will be a disaster, and then Neville and Luna will hate me too. Haven't I ruined enough of my friendships? No Choo, No Ginny, No Ron, No Hermione and now Neville and Luna!
Neville apparated outside Harry's apartment late Thursday morning. Receiving no answer, he used the enchantments Hermione had taught him to enter the disheveled apartment, to find a distraught-looking Harry slouched in a kitchen chair…that had somehow made its way into Harry's laundry room.
Having roomed with Harry for their 6 years of shared education at Hogwarts, Neville knew Harry was a light sleeper unless he was extremely stressed. To overcome i.e. ignore stress, Harry's approach usually ended with him being bone-tired which he seemed to alleviate with excessive and evasive napping.
Neville summoned Harry's glasses, and a blanket before he circled around the pile of clothes dumped onto the floor to face a resting Harry; he couldn't help but notice the way Harry keep shivering even with the summoned blanket wrapped snuggly around his malnourished frame.
"Harry. Harry! Come on, mate its almost four. Get up, and get ready!"
Neville couldn't decipher Harry's incoherent mumbles so he walked out of the laundry room, magically making the kitchen chair follow him into the living room. Lightly shaking Harry from his sleep, Neville leaned back onto the armchair of the couch, when Harry abruptly awoke.
"Hey! Hey, Neville. I wasn't expecting you today, what time is it? I hope you are well, yes? And Luna? I was going to call you last night, to tell you that I unfortunately don't think I can come tonight, no tomorrow night. Sorry, mate. I was looking forward to it and everything but you know, work and what not."
As the words overflow out of Harry's mouth, he tries to find his dignity, and searches for his reports, or anything akin to show sanity. What he ends up doing is turn in circles, resembling a lost puppy with sunken eyes, and a droopy frown.
Eventually giving up, Harry discovers his wand alongside a pile of paperwork and dedicates two minutes to cleaning up the mess of his apartment with a flick of the wrist, and then he decides the spend the next five minutes meticulously rearranging his shelves and counters. But Neville isn't fazed, so he simply sits on the couch and reads his book until there is nothing left to clean up, and no other way to organize each of the nine shelves.
"I'll be right back." Harry blurts out and then he disappears into his bedroom. "Just make yourself at home."
"Yea, okay. Take your time," Neville simply responds.
Neville didn't know what state he expected Harry to be in when he arrived. But he was not expecting it to be this; this poor mirage of a man he knew to be nothing less than incredible, a man who put his heart and soul into everything he cared about, especially, when it came to his loved ones.
Neville is suddenly very appreciative of Luna's disappearance this morning, because it was her vague note stating "gone to check on Hermione, be back later love" that gave him the idea to actually go check on Harry, as opposed to sending another letter. Although it becomes apparent that Harry is trying his best to avoid Neville by hiding in his room, Neville figures that it would be best to just wait him out.
Eventually Harry re-emerges, freshly showered and "properly" clothed, to meet Neville who is reading the morning newspaper in on the couch….in the exact same spot that Hermione sat in the night before Harry's world was swept beneath his feet.
Honestly, it is a miracle the tear takes as long as it does to slide down Harry's pale cheek. And just like that, Harrys' pacing and rubbing uselessly at his flushed cheeks; as if he could force the tears to just absorb back into his emerald eyes. It took somewhere close to a minute for Neville to get Harry to come to a full stop and allow him to wrap his arms around him.
My god, Harry has lost weight. Bringing a whole new meaning to skin & bones. Neville thinks shamelessly before his attention refocuses on a squirming Harry, trying his best to escape back into the bedroom.
"It's okay to not be okay sometimes. It doesn't make you a bad person to put yourself first sometimes, just like it doesn't make you a bad person to let yourself be happy," Neville pauses as he lets go of Harry in favor of a seat on the arm of the couch.
"Everybody deserves happiness, Harry," out of the corner of his eye he sees Harry shaking his head so he adds, "especially you."
The pair relapse into deafening silence. Settling unto the couch, Harry seems to find his voice, "When your grandmother called, she spoke of a great hero; one that saved many and brought about a new world full of hope and freedoms - someone who-who preserved in the presence of fear and tragedy. But you have to wonder, why was there was tragedy in the first place?"
"Harry. You cannot keep blaming yourself for…," Harry holds up his hand.
"You don't understand," Harry shakily breathes, "I am not the person that everybody believes me to be, I am just a collection of discarded hopes and a magnet for mayhem. After everything…everything I've been through, after all I lived through…I am not so unlike…him as you would believe. Through all these years that Ron and Hermione have stood by me…that you, and Luna, and Ginny have stood by me…and after all of that…nothing has changed. There is no brighter future, or better days. There is far more darkness than ever before, and yet I am called a Savior. I lost count of all the deaths and tragedies, I lost count of all the families that were ripped apart at the mention of my name. To all of you that had faith and hope and light, I am the reason that it was taken away."
Astonished into silence, Neville could not belief the things that he was hearing his friend, Harry Potter say.
"And even after the war has been fought, and the fallen have been buried, and the orphans…have been forced to live a life of inner turmoil and self-searching. After the all the damage has been calculated and the scars - scars that will forever remain…etched onto your skin. No, you can't tell me that I deserve to be happy, that I deserve anything more than my life; because even now, when he…cannot threaten my friends…I still find ways to hurt those closest to me, I mean…Hermione and Ron…it's disgusting…how I've repaid them…how is it possible for a man to be so…blindingly unaware, and incapable of...of…"
Neville didn't know what he expected Harry to say when he finally broke - though he had ideas - Neville is most definitely not prepared for any of whatever just happened. Subconsciously glazing his fingers over his ribs, where one of the nasty reminders of the Carrow's reign was in fact stamped onto his now toned torso,
"Harry! I-I don't understand how you can -even remotely - like is it possible to think like that. I just…"
And there it was again, the silence before Neville finds his bearings again,
"After all you've done, after all you've been through; you survived. No one could have done what you did - and I'm not just referring to the battle of Hogwarts which, was by far the greatest proof of your un-matched level of skill and devotion to doing what's right and just, especially in the face of adversity, and not just the seven long years of you and Ron and Hermione putting yourselves last and everybody else first so that our reality was but a blurred truth, and you alone were burdened with a battle that even the strongest of wizards could not fathom, or the ten years before that when you lived without love, because even I know how great a toll that takes, I am referring to all those years spent in an eternal darkness, and yet you remained the light, you remained the tether that me and my gran and sooo many other clinged too.
How can a man - of such wonderful character and depth, who is loved by so many - be so blind to his true nature, to his importance, to his role in making a better future. And let me tell you that…it is far easier to be a supporter, cheering you on from the second row than to be the target of the most powerful people to ever exist who is constantly thrown into the fire and always makes it out. I've got to say Harry, that I am quite proud that to have the scars that I do."
To be frank, Neville had never really spoken his mind before, so he can't really be that surprised to find that sometime during his rant he and Harry had switched roles. Halting his pacing to stop in front of Harry, perched on the arm of the couch who exhibited a mix of astonishment and confusion.
"Listen, you don't get to take the blame for what they did…for what he did. You don't get to say that it was all for nothing, that you are somehow anything close to him. Just because you don't see it, doesn't mean the rest of us don't know what we're talking about."
Harry is speechless. And hungry.
"Are you hungry? I think it's about lunchtime."
"I'm pretty sure lunchtime past about three hours ago. But yea, I could go for some fish and chips. Herm…I heard about a new place that just opened up, it's supposed to be pretty decent."
"Oh. I don't think…I was just going to make a sandwich. I don't really want - don't think I could go outside. Not yet. But if you wanted -"
Although Neville briefly contemplates how Harry probably hasn't seen sunlight in a good week or two, he concedes because at least he's willing to eat something so it's a step in the right direction.
"No, sandwiches are good."
While Harry is making sandwiches, Neville packs him a small bag and sends it to his house. He scribbles a note to Luna, using the parchment that links to the partner notepad in their bedroom, so it's not long before he receives her joyful response.
All that's left is getting Harry to come back to the Longbottom-Lovegood abode. Neville hasn't quite figured out that part just yet.