A/N: Not sure of the actual origin of the concept, but I first heard of a "Protected Member" of a House from the awesome Keira Marcos and her Harmony fic Phoenix. Her eponymous website is where she posts and she's super talented.
And my thanks to everyone who is reading and adding this fic to their lists! A special cup of the good stuff to all who review, as well. I do so enjoy interacting with y'all.
Many of you have mentioned how cute (or some other positive adjective) the Neville/Hermione relationship has been to this point. I heartily recommend checking out Calebski's Flourishing Devotion here on FFn. I've added it to my Favorites list on my profile for the link. :)
CHAPTER TWO
DEFINITELY SOMETHING
September, 2002
"And there we go, see? With the added help from the Encouragement charm, the roots dig deep more quickly than they'd do on their own, like so." Neville spoke in a hushed tone to the assembled first year Ravenclaws gathered around the observation terrarium. The roots of the small moly plant burrowed into the soil into which they had been planted, and the children were all agog.
The visible terrarium system had been very well received when Neville had suggested it two years prior. These firsties were simply adding more ticks to the approval rating.
"Professor Longbottom?"
"Yes, Miss Grant?"
The girl with blue eyes and teak-hued skin cocked her head. "What is moly good for? I've never seen it in my mum's garden."
"Excellent question, five points to Ravenclaw. Anyone know the answer?"
A chorus of voices responded as if they'd rehearsed. "It's used in the Wiggenweld Potion!"
Neville had to chuckle, rocking back on his heels and ushering everyone back to their seats. Of course they'd know; they were Ravenclaws. "Quite so. Five more points to Ravenclaw. It's also one of the first treatments for someone under an unknown enchantment, for the moly can be eaten as soon as one knows they have been put under an enchantment. It doesn't always work, but it can be tried. So it behooves everyone to have some. Questions?"
The students all shuffled their parchments and exchanged glances before looking up at their professor and shaking their heads. "No, sir, Professor Longbottom," Anastasia Grant said, clearly speaking for everyone.
Future Prefect Candidate, for sure. "Right, then. For next lesson, remember to bring the saplings I gave you the first day this term." He moved to stand behind his desk in front of the blackboard and set about ordering the essays the class had turned in that hour.
"Yes, Professor Longbottom!"
"As you say, Professor Longbottom!"
"Goodness, Professor Longbottom, you do have them singing in chorus," a very adult voice said quietly from behind him.
"Ah, Professor Granger," he murmured, unable to suppress his smile. "Fancy seeing you here, just when I've got a free hour."
"Mm-hmm," she said quietly, acknowledging the departing students with a nod. "Tea in mine?"
He waited until all the youngsters were away before wandlessly causing the door to close. The happy surprise in Hermione's eyes was all the reward he needed for that bit of showing off. He enfolded her in a light embrace, though he was a bit tense until she unfastened his outer "professor robe" to wind her arms about his middle. As always, the specter of Harry Potter lingered nearby. As it had for years.
Which, now that the man was with them at Hogwarts, was rather more disconcerting than it had been. Still, Neville relaxed and relished the quiet moment with Hermione. At length, when they'd stood still and silent for several minutes, relaxing their bodies into each other's, fingers tracing light patterns over clothing, he hummed lightly into her hair and asked, "Want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" It was a bit of a risk, her leaving the security of the castle, but he thought it would work. Besides, he had help.
Hermione leaned back, eyes alight. "What, did you find a new plant at Dogweed?" She made a show of craning her neck about, as if to find evidence. "Or is Harry's presence making Hogsmeade somehow less dangerous?"
"Funny you should ask." With a smile, Neville moved them until he was sitting on the edge of his desk. "Harry wants to come as well. He said he wanted to scout out the village before the regular school visit to Hogsmeade so . . . we went last night."
With a sound between an admonitory laugh and gasp, Hermione tugged out of his embrace. "So that's where you went! Without telling me!" She huffed. "Leaving me open for the great deluge of third year girls."
"Better you than me, love," Neville retorted, reaching out a hand and urging her back against himself. "I am sorry. I didn't know I'd—we'd—be missed. You usually handle the third years just fine."
Hermione nodded and settled slowly into him again, her back to his chest, her hands moving lightly over his enveloping arms. He so appreciated how tactile she was; he'd never had much physical affection in his life unless he was with her. Gran loved him, but she was not of an affectionate nature. Hermione had hugged him—and Ron and Harry—early and often, when they were young.
She still did. He'd seen her hugging Harry when they met at the head table before breakfast. And of course, she still surrounded Neville himself with her attention and affection in a variety of physical ways. Ways that made him smile to remember even now.
Even when he was, well, introducing the other object of her affection to the mix for a date.
After a fashion.
She made a little humming sound. "And I gather, from your invitation, that you two experts have declared Hogsmeade safe enough for me?"
Recalled to his invitation, Neville pressed her more tightly against himself for a moment and chuckled. "I think that, between the two of us, Harry and I might make about one Hogsmeade Safety Expert." When she laughed lightly and slid her hands up to his shoulders, he took advantage of the opportunity to bend over her shoulder and brush his lips over her ear. It always made her gasp and shiver and he adored that far more than was appropriate, all things being equal.
She arched her chest out a bit and he felt the undersides of her breasts on his arms. Without allowing himself to think about it, he slid his hands around and up to cup the firm curves of her, brushing over their peaks with his thumbs. Her response was immediate and it sent heat bolting through him like summer lightning.
"Neville . . ." she whispered as she pushed her bum back into his growing erection. "You always know . . ."
He did, because he knew every bit of her torso, really. Though he had first explored it strictly in a medical manner, slathering burn paste and then a scar-healing salve over her back when they'd been students themselves. But those memories were not in the forefront of his mind just at the moment. Rather, he was remembering the last time she'd said his name in just that way, over the summer at the manor after his Gran had gone to her suite of rooms for the night and he and Hermione had come so very close . . .
"Tea. In mine," she whispered, pressing her breasts into his hands with definite intent.
"Hermione, love, what about Harry?"
Hermione sighed and shifted and looked up at him from her lower angle, pursing her lips for a moment. "Is there something you want to tell me, Nev?" Nonplussed, he could only stare at her as she turned—still between his thighs—and captured his hands in hers before asking again, "Is there?"
"Something?"
Her eyes narrowed a bit before she flicked the tip of her tongue over her lips. "Something between, well, maybe, erm . . ." A blush suffused her skin and Neville wanted to nuzzle her cheeks and keep it there. "I don't know if you know it, Nev, but you've brought up his name every single time we've kissed since September first." She quirked her lips in a small smile as she met his gaze squarely. "So, is there something you need to tell me about you and Harry? Hm? I know we were both looking forward to seeing him, and I know you've kept in touch with him as I have—"
"I didn't spend that birthday with him, though," Neville countered swiftly, laughing a little to himself. This was not where he had ever imagined such a talk would go. "That would have been you. And I have it on good authority, Professor Granger, that he is quite interested in you."
She let out a huff. "Of course he is; that's why he made sure to tell me where you went last night, the pair of you." She frowned, a small furrow appearing betwixt her brows. "No, of course he didn't. Neither of you did. You have spent rather a lot of time together, though, haven't you?"
"Wait, no, Hermione." Was he blushing as well? Neville didn't check, he just kept talking. "We went there to see if it would be safe for you. Harry is, honestly, worried about that. A lot. Ranted a bit about how it was all his fault and—"
She held up one hand until he stopped talking. Then, she cupped his cheek with it. "So why do you keep bringing him up?"
"Because you always have," he murmured, pressing her hand into his skin, watching her very carefully. "For years, love. I never, I guess, knew what would happen if we were all in one place again."
The furrow reappeared. "What? Did you think that I was—that we were—what?" Her cinnamon brown eyes went wet with obvious tears.
With a sigh, he gathered her into himself. "We have never been a formal thing, Hermione. And I've always known you had, well—" Merlin, this is awkward. "You've always had a thing for him, yeah?" She stiffened in his arms, but he didn't let her go. She'd just get mad, then, and he didn't want that to happen.
"I have always had a thing for you as well, Neville Longbottom. You're a wonderful man and I've even said so."
He chuckled and nuzzled her hair, waiting for her to relax a bit against him once more. "I've heard you, love. And if I had the faintest hope that it was only me, you'd have been my wife a year ago." Strangely enough, that didn't even hurt to acknowledge; it was a part of them, him and Hermione. Always had been.
She froze before tilting her head far back to meet his eyes. "Really, Neville?"
"Oh, yeah." The heat rose under his skin again, but he winked at her to let her know he was not being all heavy or anything at the moment. "You're everything I could ever want in a woman, Hermione Granger. But. I'm not asking for that right now, so . . ."
"Because of Harry?" She bit her lip and pushed away from him when he wasn't expecting her to do so, effectively escaping before tugging at a long lock of her own hair and pacing before him. "He and I have never, you know . . ." She halted after a moment, catching and holding his gaze with her own. "But apparently, you've already been to Hogsmeade with him, so maybe I should be asking him about his intentions toward you?"
"No! Blimey, Hermione," he muttered, hiding his eyes by the efficient means of scrubbing at his face with the heels of his hands. "No. I was more concerned about the pair of you, to be honest. You've been so at ease with him and all, even though it's been ages." He forced a small smile and looked past her head toward the rear of his classroom, where the terrarium was stationed. "His letters make you glow, love," he murmured. "Since you were thirteen. How can I compete with that?"
"Neville Longbottom." Her tone was entirely admonitory that time as she crossed the small space that separated them and took his hands once more. "It's never been a competition." Pressing her lips together, she clearly began putting her words in order.
The expression reminded him fondly of when they'd been fifth years revising for their O.W.L. exams. She worked so hard to prove she had a place in the magical world. She faced down that Merlin-damned dragon, rescued Neville himself from the bottom of Black Lake, even though the effects of the gillyweed she'd used to facilitate breathing under water ripped open some of her burn scars, and she'd managed to survive the final Task, though Viktor Krum had taken home the Champion's Cup. Hermione Granger was the most amazing woman and no matter how her next words fell from her lips, Neville knew they'd be logical and reasonable and he'd likely find himself agreeing with whatever she said.
"You've been here. Every day. Through everything. You're my best friend, Neville. You're an amazing wizard—you even killed that damned basilisk!—and you are, even more, a wonderful man. You didn't let your grandmother take you from Hogwarts. From me," she added, her voice cracking and her fingers tightening around his. He felt his heart clench and his chest tighten at the emotion she was allowing herself to show. After a quick sniff, she continued and he was held speechless. "You have been with me, protecting me, helping me, showing me how to go on. You've . . . shown me so much, Neville. So very much. How could anyone, anywhere, be better than you?"
He tried to speak, but his words got caught in his throat so he drew her near again and kissed her. Long, sweet, and with all the pent-up feelings he had held for her for years. She tasted of salt and tea and her breath came in soggy gasps when she pulled her lips from his.
"So why Harry?" she whispered. "You didn't say . . . well, you didn't say there was nothing there, either. I know it's not the normal thing in the Muggle world, but I can't go there anymore. I live here, with you. With Magic. And Neville, if you, if you care for Harry, I, I can—"
"Me? What about you?" Neville found his voice and a cracked laugh as well.
"That is not an answer, Neville." With an abrupt turn, she was out of his embrace once again and wiping her eyes and face with the tips of her fingers. "You asked me to Hogsmeade. With you and Harry. I accept. Maybe," she added with bit of a smile in her eyes, "I'll be able to figure you out."
"I told you Harry's interested in you," Neville stated, clearly, just in case she'd forgotten.
"Are you?"
"You know I am."
"Interested in him?"
"Hermione . . ."
"When did this get so weird?" she asked, running her hand over the back of one of the student chairs and not looking at him at all. "I mean, this past summer?"
He smiled and huffed out a breath, remembering. "Yeah. So close, right?"
"And then you remembered the Protocols and lo, I remain a virgin." She snorted a bit and so did he.
"So do I," he reminded her, smiling. "But it was a near thing, yeah?"
"Yeah," she said softly. "It really was." She smirked at him. "Were you going to call out his name or mine?"
"Hermione!"
Laughing, Neville Summoned his leather book bag before opening the classroom door. The two of them left the room and made their casual way toward the professors' quarters. Hermione had, after all, invited him for tea.
It wasn't until later that he realized they hadn't really resolved anything. They'd merely aired out a few old feelings and relished newer ones. Harry Potter had always been there in their relationship, even if only as a topic of conversation.
Did he, Neville, have any feelings other than friendship for Harry? Was that even a thing, for him?
By the time he met the other man at the head table that evening, he still didn't know, but he refused to meet Hermione's questioning looks.
Hermione greeted Harry with a hug, which Harry returned as had become customary. "Hermione! Nev! Good day? Hermione," he went on, pulling out her chair and studying her face at the same time. "You look as if you'd had an upset?"
Neville held his breath as Hermione took the offered seat. "Just a bit, yes," she proclaimed, taking her napkin and flaring it dramatically before placing it on her lap. "My two best mates, see, hared off to Hogsmeade without inviting me."
Relaxing, Neville caught Harry's laughing glance. "She caught us," Neville muttered.
Harry's brows rose, crinkling the (in)famous scar. "Did you ask her?"
"To come to Hogsmeade with us? Yes, yes I did, but you should probably ask her as well. See if she'll bend your ear as she did mine!"
Harry's smile was a bit wary, which Neville felt was only fair, as the men sat on either side of Hermione. She pretended to ignore them, but her heightened color was a sure indicator of her awareness, if Neville was any judge.
And he was!
Harry cleared his throat after directing a questioning look to Neville. "Er, Hermione. I understand from you and Nev that you've not been able to visit the village very often, of late. I, I'm sorry. Nev and I went down last night so I could, well, get a feel for it."
"Oh? And you couldn't ask me to join you?"
Neville coughed on a laugh at the distressed angle to Harry's expression. Then, he poured a cup of tea for Hermione, with a quick drop of milk as she preferred it of late. He didn't say anything, though. He was having far too much fun watching Harry's obvious efforts to navigate himself back to Hermione's good opinion.
"Er, well? I thought it would be best to go ourselves, first, you know. And then," he went on, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks reddened, "I wasn't sure if Sirius and Remus were up to company. You know?"
"Your godfather is here already?" Hermione's voice rose in clear surprise. "And you didn't tell me?"
"They only just got settled yesterday," Harry said, darting a look toward the students as if to forestall any curiosity. "You may recall what, er, pranksters the pair of them are?"
Hermione shook her head, a smile in her eyes. "I do remember your having said so. All right, fair point."
Harry leaned back in his chair in what Neville imagined was overplayed relief. Neville watched him, then, wondering about what Hermione had said in partial jest earlier that day. Did he truly bring Harry up every time he and Hermione were together? How did he actually feel about the other man? Yes, he liked Harry. Sure. Harry was a bit self-effacing, but was kind and respectful of authority, which Neville appreciated. His eyes were striking, yes, and Neville trusted the emotions indexed within them. This was important as well.
But was he attracted to him? He was . . . interested in perhaps investigating the possibility. He'd never been attracted to a man before; it had always been Hermione. Just Hermione.
But Hermione had always had Harry as a, well, a part of her. From their earliest days in Hogwarts, it seemed to Neville. Yet she was undeniably involved with Neville in an emotional and physical way.
Look at her, though, Neville reflected, drinking his tea and watching the couple out of the corner of one eye. She's turned to face him, her body is leaning in his direction and, yes, she's touching his hand right there whilst they're talking. And look, he's taking her hand, now, there, and lowering it so that none of the kids can see.
Oh yeah. Definitely something there.
But do I want to find out if there is room for all of us?
Neville felt his own skin heat as Harry's focus shifted to him. "Right, Nev? Won't be a problem, will it? Me taking Hermione down to see Sirius and Remus, now that she's been warned?"
"Not at all," he said without a pause. "Just make sure their Floo is secure. I'm sure Minerva will let you use her connection in her office."
"Right, then. It's a date."
"All three of us, right?" Hermione asked, her moving a bit so she could encompass both of them, Neville guessed, with her question. "We're all three going together?"
"Yes!"
Neville had to laugh when he and Harry made that affirmation with simultaneous—and loud—enthusiasm.
"Good." Hermione nodded.
A/N: Now, this is not necessarily going to be free from relationship awkwardness. So please bear with me, yeah? Remember, if you want a sneak peek into the next chapter (posting on Friday, yep) cast the revealing charm: Aparecium! It only works if you're signed in and accepting PMs!