Neville was sick and tired of it.
Long past sick and tired of it, if anyone really wanted to know. In fact, if he had bothered to ask around he was pretty sure he could find somebody willing to admit to being sick and tired of it, too. He was far past the point of keeping a stiff upper lip about it or keeping calm and carrying on. In fact, keeping calm about it was getting to the point that he wanted to scream. Rather loudly and with language his grandmother would not appreciate at all.
That wasn't too calm, really.
What was he so sick of, one might ask?
He was sick of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger dancing around each other for years. In fact, he was going to do something about it so he could finally get a good night sleep. Those two was getting more and more uptight as the weeks wore on, and it was getting him uptight in turn. Even Hannah and Luna had commented on his state of being. They didn't care about how others were, even if some were in similar shapes. However, an uptight Neville meant that they had work to do. It took them a good bit of time and effort to get him from 'uptight' to 'not so uptight.' He was appreciative of their combined work and promised to reward them, but as they reminded him the original problem still existed. So, he needed to do something especially if he wanted them keep him from being so uptight.
He needed an accomplice, Neville did. A bit of thought and he hit upon the perfect one.
This would take some careful planning, and he sat down in a quiet corner of the library with quill, ink, and parchment to write a letter. It was a masterpiece of logic, so much so that he actually surprised himself. It would soon surprise the recipient greatly, especially since Neville was later asked for tweaks to his plan. Professor McGonagall would be so proud – if she saw this letter, that was.
Too bad she wouldn't see it. Neville didn't want any more 'help' than he already had.
-|X|-
A few days later, after the necessities of dealing with the expected 'is this a joke' conversation, Neville had his accomplice, who was just as fed up about the situation as he was if not more so. The Gryffindor didn't ask what motivations drove his accomplice, deciding that he didn't need to know. They set to work. Plans were made, considered, and either discarded or tweaked. No one else was any the wiser, least of all anyone with a scarred forehead or bushy brown hair.
-|X|-
The day came a couple of weeks later. It dawned a beautiful clear day, not a cloud in the sky. Not much fog, just enough to delicately wrap over some trees as if serving as a demure dress for the arboreal denizens of the forest. Soon however, every tree was revealed in all their glory. Neville could appreciate it of course. He wasn't tops in Herbology for nothing. He had been the first one up that morning, following the routine that had been planned. The others had gotten used to it and even Harry didn't question it any more than the others questioned the seeker's need to be up for early morning Quidditch practice. As soon as Neville cleared the portrait hole entrance to Gryffindor Tower, he set off for his first objective: meeting his accomplice.
That was soon done. After a final check, a house elf was called and the procedure was explained. Neither was prepared for the laughter that came from the house elf, and an explanation was demanded and given. After the house elf left with her task and the items needed for said that, Neville looked at his accomplice, who was displaying the most impressive rolled eyes.
"I didn't know house elves bet among themselves about everyone in the castle."
A shrug was his answer. Neville left, since he had other things to do before breakfast. He was a student, after all, and the plants in Greenhouse Two and Four didn't maintain and fertilize themselves. Well, they did, Neville chuckled to himself, but not the way he did it.
-|X|-
An hour and some minutes and a quick shower later, Neville was seated in the Great Hall, watching and waiting. He had a textbook with him for 'plausible deniability,' but his alert eyes roamed around. This early on a weekend only a few Hufflepuffs were around, looking rather peckish. Neville had always wondered what exactly made the average Hufflepuff so hungry, but Hannah just smiled. Luna seemed to be the same way, except in her case it was mostly pudding. Neville had made the mistake of asking her what her favorite pudding was and had to sit there for the next hour and a quarter listening.
He wouldn't make that mistake again. He'd have Malfoy ask the question, since Pureblood rules required that a serious question's answer be listened to in its entirety.
Finally, one of his targets arrived. Harry stumbled in, hair more askew than normal. He took his seat a bit more gracelessly than he normally would have. Neville grinned at Harry's state.
"All right there, Harry?" Of course he wasn't, and Neville knew exactly why.
"Gah. Nev? Is that you?"
"It's me. You all right?"
"I didn't sleep all that well last night. I kept having to get up to relieve myself, and I'm dying of thirst."
"Here, have some of my pumpkin juice. I haven't had any yet. I'll get another one."
"Thanks, Nev."
"Don't mention it."
Of course, Neville knew Harry was having problems last night. It seemed the Weasley Twins had been developing yet another prank candy that caused an irritable bladder, and Harry was Neville's unfortunate mark. Harry would have refused anything from any Weasley prankster, but Neville was safe – supposedly. All that subsequent late-night activity would make for a slightly dehydrated Harry and trigger an early-morning thirst. Neville had been waiting for Harry to appear, knowing that he wouldn't quite wake up enough before stepping into the Great Hall to get something to drink. There was something special in the waiting pumpkin juice, which of course was unconsumed by one Neville Longbottom.
Harry drained the goblet, as Neville watched with quite carefully hidden glee.
"That seems better than usual. I hope I can find more," he said to Neville. The goblet refilled itself at his words.
"Have at it," Neville motioned to it. "I'll look for my own," he mused, hiding his smirk.
Hermione was next as the Great Hall filled up, looking more awake than Harry. This wasn't unusual since she was more of a morning person once she actually got out of bed. Neville couldn't prank her in the same way that he had Harry, since he was quite aware that Hermione missed nothing unless she had her attention on something other than something she wouldn't be missing. Such as Neville playing pranks. That would have gotten all her attention and she would be wondering. Neville would be acting out of character and Hermione Granger wouldn't be herself unless she could figure out why.
So, he'd offered Harry the prank candy while she was in the shower.
She sat down next to Harry. This was something that everyone agreed was her place, right there, next to him. Accordingly, the seat beside him was always clear and woe betide anyone that tried to usurp her place. Several such incidents had happened, and there had been quite a few passed coins about those same incidents.
The results of some of those incidents were spoken of in hushed voices around the school, but never – ever – spoken of within the hearing of either Harry Potter or Hermione Granger.
As Hermione missed nothing, as has been established, Neville knew that he would have problems tagging her in his plans. However, he had an accomplice.
Said accomplice had entered the Hall without drawing attention. Neville's eye was caught, and a subtle conversation was exchanged without words or extraneous movement. Neville gave a nod, which was duly returned. As Neville loaded his plate with his preferred fuel for the coming day, a casual glance caught the wand work that alerted the previously amused house elf to a suddenly appearing vial of something unknown. Neville wondered why it had to be a Weasley Wizarding Wheezes standard stock vial, but he didn't ask any questions. He did notice that it looked like it wasn't filled with anything that had ever appeared on a WWW shelf. The sound of snapped fingers toward Hermione's goblet was the only thing that revealed the presence of the invisible elf, and that was only because Neville was listening hard for it. He'd never really appreciated until now just how sneaky a house elf was.
Hermione was busy trying to get Harry to wake up a bit more before he fell asleep in his breakfast. Harry was being rather obstinate about waking up to her specifications, so Hermione stopped and took a sip before suddenly looking down at it. She didn't waste much time and thought, drinking down the rest before waiting for her goblet to refill and drinking that too. After that, she had decided rib jabs wasn't working so pinches were in order. Neville tried to calm down, thinking that the jig was up when she looked down then noticed that some of the pinches were straying into uncomfortable territory. He put his attention firmly on his plate after that, not wanting to have to say he knew what Hermione was doing. Inside, he was exulting. Everything was working exactly to plan!
"Hermione, if you keep that up, we'll have to have a very private conversation," Harry mumbled.
"Well, wake up, and we'll have that very private conversation somewhere else. If you don't wake up, I'll keep grabbing."
"I thought you was pinching instead of grabbing."
"Same difference. I have a list of places to grab. Are you complaining?"
"No. Keep going. I have a list too."
"Do you, now? I will, then. And you better not be lying."
They didn't realize that their conversation, quiet as it was, was just audible enough to trigger a bigger surge in betting and trips to other House tables to get more information disseminated and coincidentally hiding Neville's efforts in monitoring his handiwork. He had more and more trouble hiding his blushes at the turns in the conversation going on next to him. Hermione made Harry eat a larger breakfast than usual as she did the same. His fork had hardly hit an empty plate for a Ron Weasley-worthy meal before she was up and dragging him out to who knew where. He didn't resist at all.
Everyone watched them go. The breakfast conversation was probably on the imaginable topic. It jumped from seat to seat and table to table. There existed much speculation, theories, and outright guesses.
Neville hoped this new inhibition-softening potion brewed specifically to Harry and Hermione worked. He'd had enough.
-|X|-
"This better be worth losing my bet, Longbottom," his accomplice murmured.
Neville glanced at the newly minted couple, who stumbled in about dinnertime with careful steps and large grins.
"I'm quite sure it is. There are plenty of other bets you could have where those two are concerned, Professor Snape."
The End