Title: Quiet Conversation
Author: Kimagure (chikitts@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I just play on the playground, I don't own it. JKR, not me.
Author's Notes: This fic is part of the ´Gardeners Delight´ Neville Fuh-Q-Fest or the website: . Challenge #10: 7th year has finally rolled around. Incredibly grateful not to have left or failed, Neville sets out his final year to ensure that Gryffindor wins the House Cup. That means improving his Potions performance so that Professor Snape can't take points off of him. Who does he turn to for help?(Koanju)
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Quiet Conversation
*****
Flip, flip, flip. "Could this book be any more boring?"
"Doubtful. I'm sorry I'm keeping you up here like this. You must want to go downstairs and hang out with Ron or something. I mean, I'm just grateful for all the help you've given me already."
"I really don't mind, Neville. I do need to do the revision, too." Sigh.
"You know, it is getting late. We can call it a night if you want."
"Sounds like a plan." Rustle of books and parchment. "I thought you said you wanted to call it a night."
"What?" Blink. "Oh, well, that is, I was just going to go over it one more time. I didn't want to keep you cooped up here in the dorm and all, since I'm sure you want to go down and be with everyone else."
"Hey, maybe I just wanted to be up here talking to you."
Laugh. "Oh come on, Harry."
"Look, maybe I don't want to go downstairs. And what's so wrong about me wanting to just stay up here and talk to you?" Frown.
"Are you feeling all right?"
"Yes." Groan. "Yes, I am perfectly fine. No, my scar doesn't hurt. Yes, I've been sleeping just peachy. No, I don't feel like killing myself in order to save Voldemort—sorry, You Know Who—the trouble. No, I didn't blow up Snape's sausages at dinner tonight. Yes, I do like dabbling in the Dark Arts occasionally as long as it's not hurting anyone. And no, I'm not bent on world domination. Anything else you'd like to know about?"
Quietly. "No."
Silence.
Silence.
SILENCE.
Sigh. "Why the sudden drive to pass Potions with flying colors anyway? I thought you were doing fine before. I mean, you really haven't needed Hermione's help for a while, right?"
"She had too many other things to deal with. It wasn't fair of me to make the kind of demands on her time that I was."
"She wouldn't have cared, Neville. She's your friend."
"I know. That's why I suggested I try it on my own, and why I went to you instead this time. She was exhausting herself in order to help me."
"I've been meaning to ask that, too. Why me? I mean, it's not like my grades are all that stellar. And I don't see the point to doing Potions the way Hermione does. I plan on roasting my Potions manual slowly over an open flame the last day of classes. It's not like we're ever going to have to actually use any of it after we leave school."
Laugh. "Sometimes I think Muggles have it easy."
"No, they have subjects that are just as evil. Maths, for instance. All we need to know are the basics. They've got to learn crap like Calculus." Shrug. "But seriously, why ask me, of all people, Neville?"
"Well, it pisses off Professor Snape, for one." Mischievous grin.
"Why you underhanded minx, you! You've been holding out on us." Light punch.
Embarrassed laugh. "Not really. You were just easier to approach than everyone else. I tried Seamus before you, and he laughed it off. Said he wouldn't be caught dead studying for the greasy bastard. I think he's hoping that the grades for the rest of his classes will carry him so he can afford to flunk Potions."
"Well, that's the thing about Seamus, I suppose. The bloke's got balls."
"He's going to make a great Auror." Wistful sigh.
"He wants to be an Auror? He told me that he was going to work for the Twins. Said something about being one of their new inventors since the Twins have had to involve themselves more in the administration of their store."
Blink. "Really? Huh, well, I guess I just thought he was smart enough to have been an Auror."
"Well, I suppose a lot of people are." Shrug. "But unless you've got a death wish, why would you actually want to be one?"
Weak chuckle. "Yeah, I know. Crazy, isn't it."
"Oh." Nervous twitch. "Er, sorry…" Apologetic glance.
"About what?" Quizzical look. "I thought you wanted to be an Auror."
"Er, me? Um, well, actually I'd just like to live to see my twenty fifth birthday." Uncomfortable laugh.
"I'm sure you will."
"What about you?"
"Me? I'd like to pass. I'd like to do at least halfway decent in all my classes, and I'd like to…never mind. I'd just like to not fuck it all up."
Raised eyebrow. "Okay, out with it, why am I really tutoring you?"
"You'll think it's stupid."
"No I won't."
Utter disbelief. "Yes, yes you will."
"Just try me, already. I mean, really, Neville. It's not like I have a lot of room to poke fun at you. The Prophet nipped a picture of my first kiss and has been gossiping about my sex life ever since. Witch Weekly has photographed me in two very embarrassingly compromised situations, both of which they set me up in. Most of England, not to mention the rest of the wizarding world has seen my bared bum. I dare you to beat that."
"Well, when you put it that way." Sheepish grin. "I, er, wanted to help Gryffindor win the house cup. For real this time. I lose us at least twenty points a week in Potions. With your help, I've managed to bring it down to fifteen, and we're only a couple of weeks in. I've cost us the cup for the last couple of years running, and I don't want to be the one responsible for us losing it this year."
"I think the Quidditch team would argue that. Most of the points are based on them anyway."
"We lost last year by ten points. Ten points that were a part of the eight hundred and twenty that I lost us in Potions class alone."
Whistle. "I didn't realize it was that much. Or that you'd taken it that seriously."
"I told you it was stupid."
"No, I can think of plenty stupider things. Ron and Hermione's month of attempted dating, for instance."
Laugh. "Oh god, I thought they were going to maim everyone in the tower before it was all said and done. Bit volatile those two." Grin.
"Aren't they just." Smile. "Gotta love 'em for it. And gotta love 'em even more when they aren't in love with each other." Chuckle. "What about you? I haven't heard your name linked to anyone but Ginny. And that was years ago. You're awfully quiet too when Dean waxes poetical on all the virtues that are supposedly a part of Padma's illustrious body."
"I always feel as if I should apologize to her after he does that." Shudder.
"I know. But you're avoiding the question." Grilling stare.
"Er, well, you see..." Shift uncomfortably. "Someone like me just isn't going to find a lot of people to date in a place like Hogwarts."
"So you and Ginny?"
"Oh no, we're just friends. She's not my type."
Suspicious look. "You're friends with an awful lot of girls."
"I am not!" Scowl. "Just Ginny and Hermione."
"But neither of them are your type?"
"No."
Silence.
Silence.
SILENCE.
"Okay, so what is your type then?"
Mumble.
"What?" Pause. "Oh come on, I promise not to tell anyone. Do I look like a gossiping, old biddy to you?"
Appraising glance.
"I am not a gossiping, old biddy!" Indignant.
Laugh. "Harry, I'm gay."
"Oh."
Mimic. "Yes, 'oh'."
Awkward silence.
"So, ah, what are you going to do after you win us the house cup?"
Irritable. "I don't know, what are you going to do after you kill You Know Who?"
"Touche."
Sigh. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. Especially since you've been nice enough to tutor me. It's just that my gran has been on my case about the whole bloody thing for the last, I don't know, seventeen years of my life. She keeps insisting that I'd be perfect as an Auror. For my part, I just want to stay here after school ends and maintain the greenhouses. Professor Sprout's getting too old to be managing all ten of them on top of teaching like she is. Gran insists though that 'playing in the dirt all day' is too demeaning a job for a Longbottom. I, however, think her vulture hat might be a bit too tight. Not that I'd ever say so to her face, mind you."
Strangled snicker. "Crazy what people expect, isn't it? I mean, if you never even knew your parents, how the hell are you supposed to be them? It's stupid. They're just names. Or half-forgotten memories. But people still look at you and see them. They never see you. And when they do see you, it's only to look at you askance and wonder why you aren't fulfilling your predestined role as mini-them."
"Mini-them?"
"You know what I mean. People always look at you, but always see them. It's never you that they want to see. They just want to see their martyrs. Not the ones who survived the martyring."
Quietly. "Yeah, they look at you and see the cardboard cut out that they want you to be. That's easiest for them to see. Whether it's a hero or the clown."
Silence.
"So, what about you, Harry?"
"Huh?"
"What's your type? Who do you fancy?" Mischievous grin.
Blush.
"You said it yourself. Your naked bum's been seen 'round the world-"
"Been noticing my bum, have you?" Grin.
BLUSH. "-so, who are you really holding the torch for? Cho Chang? That big breasted blonde Witch Weekly snuck up into the dorm showers for you? Although, I have to be honest, I think she was a bit old for you. Or was that the brunette they stashed in your Quidditch locker? I hear that Colin's younger sister, Madeline is pining after you, too. She's awfully cute. For a second year. I think she's even got a strong following for her fan club started amongst the first years."
Glare. "You. Are. Evil."
Giggle.
Glare.
Laugh.
GLARE.
Tears of laughter.
Smile. "None of the above, if you must know, Mr. Longbottom."
"Oh, so Mr. Potter, is there a future Mrs. Potter you're trying to keep a secret?" Grin. "I promise I won't say a word. Besides, Harry, even if I did, it's not like anyone would actually believe me." Lopsided grin.
"Hermione would. Ginny too, I bet."
"Well, neither of them are very likely to ask me about your love life, now are they?" Confused smile. "Besides, I think you've got enough on me to blackmail me."
"Oh, well, in that case…"
Kiss.
