My potion quivers. It's a weird color, a kind of… strawberry-marigold. It's colored strawberry-marigold, and it's quivering. I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to do that. I try to soothe the… the blasted thing with my ladle, but it just bursts into flame, singeing the ceiling. And remarkably enough, not my eyebrows.
…Oops.
They're all laughing, of course. Even Hermione is hiding a grin.
He's laughing too... But somehow, his laughter doesn't hurt as much.
Well… I suppose I should sort of…um… explain things a bit. It's a long story, but some parts are longer than others, and some are quite short.
I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom. I'm rotten at everything. Oh. Yeah… that's it, basically. There's a few things I'm really rotten at, though. Potions. Being likeable. Not walking into things. Or over things. Or tripping over them.
I still remember the time Ron tried to teach me hand-eye coordination… he gave up after I ended up punching myself in the face. Er, just don't ask. I'm not terribly good at charms.
"Great work, Extended Rear!" chortles Malfoy as he passes by. I grace him with a whimper. Fantastic. I sound like a whipped puppy.
Seamus gives me a sympathetic glance as Dean practically pulls him out of the classroom. I feel my insides quiver just like the potion did, and quickly look down before my face bursts into flame.
Where was I? Oh, yes. I was explaining… him, I guess. Not that there's a him. I mean, not that there's a him and a- a me. There's definitely a him.
Him is Seamus Finnigan. Believe me, I know he's my opposite in practically every way… he's funny and outgoing, I'm clumsy and shy, he's unbelievably adorable, I'm … I'm nothing, compared to him. There's also that he's, uhm, he's going out with Lavender Brown. She's in our year. And she's, well, a she. You know. So… there's a lot of differences. I made a list of all of them, so I know. Um, but then I lost the list. I remember all the differences still, though. I think I accidentally memorized them. Sometimes I think they should make the differences between me and Seamus the passwords to Gryffindor Tower… then I'd always remember the password! Neat, huh?
Anyway, we didn't hardly speak at all until this year. Me and Seamus, not me and Lavender. I don't really talk to her. I don't really talk to a lot of people, but, er, anyway. Yeah. He just came up to ask me some questions for Herbology, and then even after I'd answered them all, he kept talking to me. It's a "very Seamus thing to do," as I've overheard my roommates say… but I don't think I minded nearly as much as they usually do when he talks a lot.
We've sort of kept talking for a few months now, every so often. We're not very close, not as close as he and Dean seem to be, but he's friendly to me. Usually I just get ignored, so it's nice. And sometimes I'll wave at him when class is over, and he'll smile and come over and ask me how my day's going. He talks enough for both of us, so our conversations work out.
I feel like I can tell him things… he's my only friend sometimes. Harry's nice, but I think mostly out of pity. He told me he knew about my parents, so that's probably why. Well, all the Gryffindors are nice to me, but just as a cordial thing, y'know? But not Seamus. And that's why I can't tell him I like him. The like kind of like. Things would be weird, and… I dunno, I just can't.
One thing that isn't different between me and Seamus is we're both kind of scatter-brained. Seamus can be absolutely clueless about most things, especially when it comes to people. He's really nice though, and people like him. He'll try to include me in the group when the others have forgotten about me, and that makes me kind of… buzz inside. And that makes me even more envious of Lavender.
I try to avoid having him be nice to me too often.
I still remember the last time he was nice to me, too. It wasn't that long ago. I'd just come back from a visit with my parents, and I'd seen how skinny they were. They were really thin and you could see their bones. I'm rather… plump. It just seemed logical that I should be skinny too, right? Then we'd look more like a family. It made sense.
Seamus caught me throwing up in the bathroom stall, but he just got me some water, without yelling at me. Then he told me the dinner had made him feel sort of queasy too. See what I mean about him being clueless? And he was so sweet the next morning, asking me whether I still felt like throwing up, and making extra sure I ate something. Somehow I just couldn't do it after that, knowing that he'd actually be upset if he ever found out.
Oh, well… I'm rambling on, aren't I? I'll stop now. I should pay attention anyway, because we're sitting around the fire talking. Yes, we. I'm there too, and who knows, someone might say something to me.
"So, Seamus? Have you actually asked Lavender to the Yule Ball yet, or are you just assuming she'll go with you?" teases Ron.
Seamus chokes on his Chocolate Frog.
"I take it that's a no," chuckles Dean. "Get on it, man!"
Seamus manages to swallow the squirming lump of chocolate, and glares at Dean. "Oh yeah, Mister 'I-haven't-gotten-up-the-nerve-to-ask-Parvati'?"
Dean hits him over the head with a pillow from the sofa. "Shut up!"
"I barely said anything!" Seamus protests. I'd stick up for him, but the mention of Lavender has me feeling odd again.
"Oh, hey, Neville? Are you taking someone?" asks Harry. I wish I had a Chocolate Frog to choke on.
"Um, er, no, I mean… I don't think so." I stammer.
"Oh… well, you should ask Ginny, I think she fancies you," Harry says.
Ron taps him on the shoulder. "Actually, she's going with Colin," he says.
"Oh," says Harry. He grins at me. "Well, Neville, who do you like?"
Seamus interrupts before I have to say anything. "Hey, guys, look! I can balance the pillow on my…um… my forehead! It's an amazing feat! It's…totally neat!"
"Astounding," says Dean. Harry and Ron clap, and mimic blowing kisses to him. Seamus stands up and takes a bow before swinging the pillow very hard at the back of Dean's head.
"Ouch! Hey!" Dean says, rubbing his neck. "Seriously man, that hurt!"
"Deadly pillows of dooooom," says Seamus, grinning.
"We should find a girl for Neville, equipped with two deadly pillows," Ron deadpans.
They laugh, but I don't. I'm feeling sort of sick to my stomach, and my head keeps buzzing. This wasn't a good idea, not at all.
"Are you okay, Nev?" says Seamus. He looks concerned. I'm surprised he noticed anything. It's a very… un-Seamus thing to do.
"Yeah," I murmur. I should just leave, go upstairs to the dorm, just away. I don't fit here. I don't fit with him. What else is there? But I should wait a minute, they're still talking. About me.
"How about that Hannah girl?" Dean suggests. "I mean, as long as Neville doesn't set fire to her…pillows…" he snickers.
Harry chuckles. "Yeah Neville, that was awesome in Potions earlier," he says.
"Thanks," I find myself saying. Can they tell I'm being sarcastic? I feel myself starting to cry. Dammit. And why am I thinking this? Why aren't I bumbling around now? I'm so angry… I don't even know what at. I'm scaring myself.
Ron snorts. "I'm really sure the flaming boobs'll impress the ladies."
It's not what they say, but how they say it, I think. Like I'm worthless. And I don't want anyone to think that, even if I think it's true. So I run. Up to the dorm. I don't look at Seamus, I don't want to see what he thinks of them, of me… and I don't want him to be nice. I don't deserve niceness.
He comes in a few minutes later. I didn't expect him to follow me. I try desperately to hide the knife, but it's too late, and he sees.
"…Nev? Are you okay?" Seamus asks, walking over to me. I'm huddled up on my bed, clasping my scratched arms to my stomach. I know he sees.
"I gave them what-for," he adds. "They shouldn't have said those things." Seamus is sitting on the bed next to me now. Doesn't he see?
He takes the knife from me, eyes fixed on mine. "Nev?" I can see he's waiting for me to… to explain. What do I have to explain? Why can't he just see?
"I…I was trying… I borrowed Dean's knife, to, to um, fix those," I say, uncurling one arm enough to point at my extra pair of shoes, lying on the floor. The laces are horribly tangled, and they'd been heavily doused with a potion that now has the consistency of hardened glue. It makes sense.
Seamus looks at them and whistles. "Whoa. I can see why you'd need a knife to cut through that… what is that?"
I shrug. I want to shout at him… can't you see, Seamus? I'm… I'm bloody well fucked up. Why don't you notice?
But he's grabbed the shoes and set them down on the bed. I can see he's trying to untie the laces, but I've already tried. I was going to try a charm, too, but…
"So," he says, not looking up from his task. "Want to go to the Yule Ball with me?"
"I…what?"
Seamus looks up at me, grinning brightly. "Lavender dumped me. I figure, hey, I can go with you… um, you know, and we can hang out. And it wouldn't be like a date thing, so if Lavender changed her mind…"
I know it'll hurt. I know he doesn't have a clue of what I think of him. I say yes anyway.
"Cool!" he says. Seamus's grin is about to split his face in half, it seems. And now he dumps my cruddy shoes in my lap, laces finally flapping free.
-
I knew this was a bad idea. I knew it, I knew it… because here I am, standing in the corner, while everyone else enjoys themselves. I don't know where Seamus is. Probably with Lavender. But I knew this would happen, didn't I? Seamus told me, for goodness sakes.
And why is it now that I realize it was more than just like?
I see Harry approaching me, and I try to sink more into the shadows. Fantastic. He means well, I just have to remember…
"Hey Nev, how are you doing? Listen, I'm sorry about the other night," he says. I say don't call me 'Nev', that's what Seamus calls me, I don't want to hear it from anyone other than him, and oh god I think I love him.
What I actually say is "I-I'm fine, Harry. And thanks. No problem." I force a smile.
It has the desired effect of making him go away. Oh yes. He means well. I start to wonder when exactly I decided I loved Seamus, and I'm deep in my own thoughts when Seamus comes back.
"Neville Longbottom! Don't you dare brood, not when I'm around!"
I start, glancing around quickly. There he is, right next to me, smiling. I know where he's been.
"It was hell to get to the punch table, and then I… ahem, accidentally spilled our drinks on Draco Malfoy. So here," he explains quickly, handing me a cup. "Punch! Fresh from the punchbowl! Who knows where it was before that, I've never quite trusted house elves…"
"Oh," I say. Okay, so maybe I didn't know where he was. I think my hands are shaking.
Seamus grabs the cup from me before I can drop it, sending me a reassuring look. He sets it down with his own drink, and grabs me, tugging me out of the corner. "Let us dance!" he proclaims. I hear Parvati giggling… at Seamus? No, probably at me. I don't think I've danced more than two times in my life. Why is Seamus doing this?
"Follow my lead," he says, and I try. The music is paced oddly, and I'm having trouble, so he takes hold of my shoulders and shows me how. We both end up just swaying back and forth, and he's chuckling at me. So am I, though, so it's okay.
"You're hopeless," Seamus gasps. I've just stepped on his feet, again, and it sent him into hysterical giggles.
"I know," I say, but I smile so he won't worry.
"Hey," he says. "I wasn't serious. I think you're great."
I blush. "…'Great'?"
Seamus nods. "Yeah. And don't worry about the dancing thing, you're doing fine."
I really want to believe him.
"So, um," I start. "Um… how'd it go with Lavender?"
"Haven't spoken to her," Seamus answers promptly. "Don't want to. I think that'd sort of muck things up even more."
"Oh," I say.
He's looking concerned again. "Nev?"
"Yes?" I answer. I swear that whatever Seamus asks me, I'll answer him truthfully. I'm tired of him just not knowing.
"Do you want to go back to the tower?" he asks.
Sort of a waste of a truthful answer, I think idly, and nod without hesitation. It's a good idea, actually. I won't be around to bother him, and he won't be around for me to mourn. It feels like mourning.
Seamus brightens. "Alrighty! Let me go tell Dean we're heading out." I don't think that quite registers until he's darted away, and a moment later he's back. He proceeds to steer me out of the Great Hall, laughing. His arm has fallen from around my shoulders to my waist, and I tell myself it's not intentional.
"Y'know, um, Nev?"
I nod, but I don't want him to disturb this feeling in me. I feel like I'm bubbling, quivering. About to burst into flame. I'm a potion, just waiting to be messed up. I'm strawberry-marigold.
"How about when we get back, we talk a bit more? And I'll help you finish cleaning off those horrid shoes. After all, I think it's about time Dean got his knife back, don't you?"
I feel his grip on me tighten slightly, and I suddenly wonder if he does know. I wonder if he knows a lot more than he'll ever let on.
And as he bends over to kiss me, I know he does.
. . . . . . . . . .
end.
"strawberry-marigold" is from the joydrop song by the same name. i thought it was pretty.
review, please?
- tpd
(harry potter did not belong to me. this story contained slash. if that squicks you, you should not have read the above.)