Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world or all anything.
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CHAPTER 25
"What--"
"It's not--"
Harry and Hermione spoke at the same time, but before Harry had the chance to finish his sentence the bushy-haired girl was off and running. "It's not your fault Neville. That potion is notoriously unstable. Quite frankly I was shocked that Professor Snape assigned it at all---"
She kept speaking and Harry barely stopped himself from shooting Neville a commiserating glance because the boy looked so upset. When Hermione stopped for a breath, Harry jumped in.
"What's going on, Neville? Why do you think it's your fault?"
The brunet boy shuddered and Harry couldn't stop himself. He stood up and took off his robe, wrapping it around Neville's shoulders as he nudged the boy into one of the empty chairs. Harry gave Hermione and Ron a look, and like true best friends they knew what he was saying and left, mumbling quiet farewells.
Once the common room was empty of everyone but Harry and Neville all Harry could hear were the other boy's heavy breaths.
"What is it Neville?"
Neville took one last shuddering sigh before beginning to speak, his gaze focused on his hands, folded in his lap.
"When I was six years old I was incorrigible and my grandmother brought me in to Hogwarts to see if there was something the matter. She brought me into the Infirmary and I fell asleep on one of the cots, waiting for Madame Pomphrey."
"Yeah, your Gran told us," Harry said softly.
Neville shook his head. "No, you don't understand. While I was asleep I had a dream. It felt so real. There were two boys who took care of me and we watched telly and went flying and it was amazing."
This time it was Harry's turn to shake his head. "I'm sorry, Nevs. I just don't follow."
Neville turned and Harry felt the full power in the other boy's damp brown eyes. "The little boy you took care of wasn't me, not the grown up me shrunken to six years old. It was me then. I don't know how it happened, but it did."
"But Neville, you didn't say anything—"
Neville laughed a harsh, tear dampened laugh. "How was I supposed to tell you? Oh, by the way Harry, I know you don't know anything about the Wizarding World, but in five years you're going to be my dad?"
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but before he had the chance Neville spoke again.
"No. I thought it was a dream, at first. But when I got a little older I saw a picture of Draco in the Daily Prophet and it struck a chord. I knew him. The next time I went to Diagon Alley he was there and I was so excited to see him I ran up to him and gave him a massive hug."
Neville smiled, but the smile was soft and sad and twisted. Harry felt his stomach sink. He remembered what Draco had been like when they first met and couldn't imagine the Slytherin any nicer as a child. "What did he do? Did he hurt you?"
Neville started, leaning away sharply. "No," Neville said quickly, almost shouting in the heavy silence of the empty Common Room. "No, he smiled. He looked confused but he smiled. But before I had the chance to say anything to him, to tell him I was glad he felt better, his— His father stepped in. He pushed me aside with that snake-head cane of his and told Draco not to bother with useless squibs like me."
Tears were falling down Neville's cheeks and Harry pulled the other boy close, pressing his damp face into his own flannel-clad shoulder. After a few moments Neville pulled away. After taking a few deep breaths the boy went on. "He just went along with it, Draco didn't say anything. I suppose I understand now, Lucius is a bastard, but then… It broke my heart Harry."
Harry nodded in agreement with the other boy's sorrowful tone.
"After that I saw him a few times but I didn't say anything. I told myself my dream was just that, just a dream. And when we got to Hogwarts and I saw you, both of you again, I kept my mouth shut, pretending I didn't know who either of you were, pretending nothing had happened. I could have left it like that, a nice dream, my imaginary family, if it hadn't been for one thing."
"What's that Nev ?"
The brunet smiled. "Draco told me something, when I took the potion, before I went back to the past. Did you hear him?"
Harry shook his head. Neville had gone back to staring at his hands and Harry wasn't sure if the other boy had seen, but Neville went on anyway.
"He told me… He told me he was sorry, for the flying lesson and my Remember-All. he said he was a child and a fool and he was sorry."
Harry gasped and Neville's soft smile widened into a grin.
"I didn't know what he meant, but then Madame Hooch took us out for our first lesson and he stole my Remember-All, and everything came back to me. You left right after the lesson, so you don't know this, but that day I went back to our room and shut myself up in my bed for the rest of the day. I'm sure everyone thought I was pouting over what Draco did, but I was thinking. I dredged up every memory of our time together when I was a kid, and compared them to everything now and I knew it was real, it had to be real. It just wasn't time yet."
Harry sat back, sinking into the heavy plush of the couch. His head was spinning. If it was all true, and Neville was a child, then…
"You knew he was dying?"
Neville froze. "I knew he would get sick."
"And that we would never be able to rescue Narcissa? Why didn't you--? We could have saved her, saved him…"
"I-- I couldn't, Harry. The repercussions—"
"Repercussions hell, Neville. He could have died, could still die, and you should have said something." Too tense to remain sitting, Harry stood up quickly and started pacing the room. It was too much, the idea that this had happened, that Neville had known him for years before they met, and known him well. He heard Neville crying, but he couldn't stop pacing, it was as if he were a clock work boy, forced to march until he wound down.
Again and again he circled the room, the couches and the fireplace and the thick tapestries that lined the walls becoming nothing more than a blurry background as his head rang with Neville's soft sobs and memories of their few months as a little family.
Finally Harry couldn't walk anymore and he collapsed to the ground, his legs trembling
underneath him.
Exhausted, Harry muttered. "Why Neville? Why did you let it happen? Why did you let me love him?"
Neville's voice was rough with tears as he answered. "I didn't 'let' you, Harry. I didn't force you either. You already cared about him or none of this could have happened in the first place, and he already loved you. I couldn't save Narcissa this time, couldn't prevent her death now because I didn't then.
If I told you at the end of the year that you would fall in love with Draco Malfoy, and by the way make sure his mum doesn't die or you'll have to get married, what would you have said?"
Harry opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. There was nothing he could say.
"Exactly. You would never have believed me. I know you always considered yourself my friend Harry, but we never had that kind of relationship, the kind where you would automatically trust whatever I said no matter how ludicrous it was. Hell, even if Ron or Hermione told you what would happen you would never believe them.
Things unfold the way they are meant to. As far as I was concerned all of this was history, memory. It had already happened and so it was meant to occur."
Harry leaned back against a chair nearby and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Neville. I can't discuss this with you right now."
When he opened his eyes again the brunet was gone.
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Note: Okay, this chapter did not go where I thought it would go. I was going to have another long scene, but my beta, DerSaboteur, thought this was a good place to stop. So if you don't like it I can provide a detailed map for the ravening mob. No, seriously. I know what the next chapter will be and I should have it up in a much shorter time than it took to get this one posted.
Read, review, tell me what you think. If you do not review I shall meet you on the field of honor at dawn. Well, maybe more around 10. I'm sluggish in the morning.