Disclaimer: Not one tiny shred of the basic plot/characters/etc. is mine. OK? Are you happy now?

(Note: Bits in italics are dreams, *asterisks are thoughts* and #hashes are song lyrics, singing, etc.#)

Sorry I was so long updating! I promise the chapters will come thick and fast after this…

Chapter 11: Heartbreak Hotel At Hogwarts

"Neville? Neville? In love with – with me?" Harry sat down weakly and narrowed his eyes in thought. "Can – can – can you explain – please?"

"Yes," she said softly. "But first you need to calm down…" she patted his shoulder and then sat down herself. "Ok. Harry, Neville's always been in love with you. He told me in third year. He just realized it one day… but anyway. It's clear you're not gay. And Neville knew that. So he made a potion – a love potion. You know how crap he is at potions," she paused as Harry struggled to comprehend this information. "And he made it wrong and you fell in love with McGonagall. And… well, that's about it."

Harry thought for a moment. *McGonagall… gone… my doings… Neville – gay?…* His mind suddenly clicked and he knew what he had to do. But not yet. Not tonight – not n McGonagall's memorial night. "You haven't explained about the dreams though." "Ah! A side effect of love potions. The object you desire will be featured in your dreams, and each of them will have a meaning. I'm not too sure about your pink tutus though…" she said with a wicked grin. Harry smiled too, then his face went white as he realized what could happen to him…

"Hermione – I could get expelled!"

"Yes, I know. And I have a plan…"

"What?"

"It may not work."

"So? I don't care."

"Well… they can't expel you if you're mad."

"But I'm not!"

"Ah! But therein lies the game…"

Back in Potions. Hurrah for Harry. However, Snape was still mad, so that livened things up a bit. But his favourite pastime was "For She's A Mentally Dead Girl" sung to "For She's A Jolly Good Fellow", which did not please Harry. He kept his head down and… well, pretended to be mad. He used Snape's actions as a basis for his own behavior. He even offered to help Snape tidy the Potions cupboard just to study him. That truly was mad.

He still hadn't confronted Neville though. He wanted to, so much. He wanted to send a Howler, he wanted to scream and shout, he wanted to KILL him. But he hadn't seen Neville all week. And whenever Neville saw him, he fled. But Harry had a plan.

Late that night, the unused girls' bathroom was filled with an interesting fragrance. It was the fragrance of a potion, being brewed not by Neville but Harry. He was crouching over it, rubbing his hands. *Maybe I am potty,* he thought, *but Neville… he MUST be mad. I can't believe – ah! It's ready…* The potion had turned a pale silver colour. Harry took one of the vials Neville had foolishly left and put some of the potion into it. He stared at it. This potion, this little 10 millilitre bottle, could be his salvation. All he had to do was get Neville to drink it.

Breakfast the next morning was the ideal opportunity. Harry was first down to the Great Hall, and he filled a glass with pumpkin juice and the silver liquid. He waited half an hour, and finally a nervous looking Neville crept in. Harry pounced on him like a cheetah.

"Gee, Neville, you look washed out," he said. "Have some of this!"

Neville took it, smiling, and drank it. His face changed and he looked a bit shocked. It had worked. Covering Neville's mouth, Harry dragged him out of the hall. Down to the unused girls' loos.

"OK, Neville – talk. Why did you do it?"

"I did it because I love you," he said. Truthfully. For what Harry had fed him was a Truth Potion. "I have wanted you since first year." Neville was trying to stop talking, but the truth potion had taken effect. It as too late… "I told Hermione and she said she wouldn't tell. And when you started going out with Cho again this year, I was so jealous you wouldn't believe. So I made the potion but it went wrong."

"So what happens now, Neville?"

"I don't know. I never realized you'd go mad, or kill her soul. Heck, I didn't even know I'd brewed it wrong. Is there any way to get her back?"

"I don't think so. Dumbledore hasn't come up with a solution, so I guess… I guess I've completely screwed up this time. Hah. The Boy Who Lived manages to commit the worst crime possible – the charm equivalent of a Dementor's Kiss. Oh well done Harry! Pat on the back!" he exclaimed sarcastically. "I have no idea what to do," he moaned. He sat down on a loo seat.

"Nobody said it was easy," Neville sang a little Coldplay. He sat down on the floor beside Harry and thought about just how lovely he was, how kind, how gentle… he was so beautiful too. *I wonder* Neville thought, *is it possible for men to be beautiful?* He contemplated this, and stroked Harry's knee slightly.

     Harry swatted Neville away and continued thinking. Harry was thinking what a prat Neville was, and what a mess he'd made of his life. Him and Neville. Harry had killed a person's soul, and Neville was… well, just Neville. The whole school was talking about Harry, which he hated. He briefly wondered if he could blame Ron (who was convenient in situations like this), but he knew he couldn't. And also, Dumbledore was so tempted to expel him – if he hadn't defeated the Dark Lord he'd be out of the school so fast his feet would burn.  

      He was still in this pickle. And there was no way that he could see of getting out of it.

~#~#~#~ Mistress Of The Manuscript ~#~#~#~

R&R this lovely new chapter. Suggestions for plot development welcome!!