Disclaimer: Harry Potter is from the creative genius that is J.K. Rowling. We are not her. This is merely a fan fiction to tide us over until Book 6.

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Alaire sat by the fire in the common room alone. Ginny had snuck off with Draco. Ron, who was still quite tramatized, was treating Hermione with the utmost respect and was romancing her to all ends. Harry was in detention with Snape and Neville had locked himself away in his study smiling and almost giddy.

Ginny, Draco, Hermione and Ron's plants all had bloomed and he was busy writing down and figuring out the plant. Alaire's plant was in Neville's lab too. She was too afraid she would kill the thing, so asked Neville to keep it with him. Neville had insisted she be the one to water and tend to it, so she had been going down there once a day to tend to it and look at all of the rest of Neville's botanical treasures.

Alaire smiled to herself as she thought about how Neville's lab was almost like a jungle. Of course that led to some fantasies about Neville in a loincloth swinging from vines and wisking her off. Alaire shook her head with a bittersweet smile on her face she mentally scolded herself. Neville still hadn't made any moves on her. Maybe she was wrong on what she felt from him. Maybe she just wanted to believe he had romantic feelings for her so much that she had imagined he felt the same.

She sighed loudly as the Common Room door opened and Harry drug himself inside.

"Rough night?"

"Snape – evil git," he said wearily befor plopping down on the couch with her.

"Poor baby," she teased as she moved some hair out of his eyes. "It's late you should go to bed."

"No," Harry sighed and sat up, taking a hold of Alaire's hand. She swallowed nervously as he looked at her. "Alaire, there's something I need to talk to you about and it can't wait until morning."

"Oh, all right," she said uncertain. "What is it?"

Harry looked around. "Not here. Who knows who will come in. Wait here for me would you? I need to get something."

Alaire nodded as Harry bound up the stairs, returning a short time later with a roll of parchment and a shiny cloak.

"Come on," he said taking hold of her hand as he threw the cloak over both of them and led them out of the room. Once outside he let go of her hand and opened the parchment to reveal a map of Hogwarts with hundreds of moving dots.

"All right we're clear," he said as he began to walk. Alaire had no choice but to follow him and remain under the cloak.

Alaire could tell that Harry was nervous. Waves of anxiety buffeted her every time their hands brushed. They hurried along the hallways using Harry's enchanted map to avoid Filch and any professors or prefects on duty. They stopped outside an old wooden door. Harry stepped away from Alaire and began to pace.

"Harry?" Alaire began but stopped when Harry shushed her.

Harry opened the door with a sigh of relief. He led Alaire into a dark room lit only by a glowing fireplace. A small leather love seat was pulled up to it and a cozy blanket was lying over one arm. He ushered her in and motioned for her to sit on the couch. But instead of sitting next to her as she expected, Harry began to pace again.

"Harry?"

"Yeah. Um. Well, um, you see . . ."

"Harry? Harry, come sit down."

Gulping Harry sat down beside Alaire who curled her feet up under her and turned to look at him. "Now, what is it that you want to tell me?"

Harry had had the speech clear in his head. He was going to tell her about Voldemort, the prophecy, Neville's part in everything, and about his own destiny. Now, looking into Alaire's eyes, all prepared speeches vanished. His mouth had gone dry.

"Harry, come on, what are you so nervous about? It's just me. Just Alaire." She reached out and grasped his hand. "I don't have to use my empathic gift to know you're upset. Now what's going on?"

Taking a deep breath, Harry began. "Alaire, the other night when we went out to talk to your parents – " Alaire drew her hand back but Harry reached out for her and took it back. "I know I upset you that night but I have to tell you why."

"Why you pulled me into a dark alcove and then just stood there?" she said tensing up.

"I can explain."

"Why you dumped me in the Common Room and just left?" she said taking her hand away from his and crossing her arms in front of her.

"Honest, Alaire, I had other things on my mind."

"A girl takes you on a walk in the dark late at night and you have other things on your mind. Yeah, right," she said codly.

"Honest! I –" Harry began aspirated before he stopped in mid-thought. Alaire thought that he had meant to kiss her when he ducked behind the statue! Now he got it! "Oh. Well. I got distracted."

"Distracted? Harry Potter, you are great for my ego. So, what distracted you?"

Harry felt a weight settle in his chest that he didn't want. He had never wanted this responsibility. And, now, looking at the girl across from him, it seemed that happiness would never be his. Alaire watched the emotions flit across Harry's face finally settling into a deep remorse. Without thinking, Alaire reached out and carefully brushed his hair out of his eyes. Harry reached up and pulled her hand down.

Later, Alaire would note that time does occasionally stand still. They seemed to look at each other for an eternity. Each tried to read the emotions of the other. Then, Harry moved forward and they were kissing. It wasn't the wet, crying kiss of Cho. For Harry, it was a revelation. Alaire had lips that were moist and soft. She tasted like cotton candy. She actually kissed him back. It was amazing. He was afraid his heart would stop.

For Alaire, it was different.

It wasn't exactly wrong but it wasn't exactly right either. Harry tasted vaguely of butterbeer. His lips while soft seemed a bit too thin. She was very aware of him and his emotions but he seemed oblivious to her slight reluctance. When he lifted his head, they stared at each other for a moment.

"No Passion Pill this time," Alaire finally whispered. Harry had to smile.

"Not this time."

Alaire was unsure what to do. Kiss Harry? Stop Harry? Her body told her one thing but her heart told her the opposite. She was still trying to decide when Harry leaned over and kissed her again. This time Alaire couldn't think. She could only feel Harry and his happiness. Besides, he was getting better with practice.

"Umm," Alaire started to say something, anything but Harry stopped her by placing a finger over her lips. He slowly traced the outline of her mouth all the while watching her. In advertently, she started to lick her lips as a reflex action. Her tongue caught his finger and she heard him gasp. "You are so beautiful."

Alaire was stunned. Here was a side to Harry she had never seen or suspected.

"I-I've wanted to kiss you for so long. I didn't know whether to kill Fred and George or to thank them when they gave you that Passion Pill."

Alaire had the grace to smile. It was nice to receive a compliment. No one could argue with that. She wanted to respond to Harry but something in her heart stopped her. Here was one of the cutest and nicest boys in school kissing her and all she could think of was how to stop him.

"H-Harry," Alaire whispered as she drew back a little. "Why did you bring me here tonight? You had something to tell me."

Alaire felt Harry's emotions become icy. The sparkle fell from his eyes and his mouth went straight. "Oh. Yeah."

He drew back and leaned against the couch. Alaire thought for a moment that he was going to cry but instead he whispered something under his breath.

"Harry, its OK. You can tell me. I'm not going to run away. It can't be that bad." When she got no reaction, she added, "Don't forget, I read your biography in my history book. I know all about you."

"Oh, no, you don't," Harry said as shook his head and quickly wiped a tear. "I wish the book was the end of it all, Alaire, but it isn't. There's more."

Alaire reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. Harry's hair always seemed to need tidying. She then took his hand and put her head on his shoulder. "Just tell me. I won't go anywhere or say anything until you're done."

Taking comfort from her presence, Harry took a deep breath and began his story. He told her about finding out he was a wizard then finding out that Voldemort hadn't given up his quest to return. He mentioned Tom Riddle and his plans. He told how his parents had been betrayed by one of their best friends and how that person had helped Voldemort regain a corporeal body. Then he told her about the prophecy.

"So you see, it could have been Neville just the same as me. But Voldemort saw me as the bigger threat. And, now, I am locked into a life with only one goal – kill Voldemort. Finish him off for good. That's what I need to concentrate on, killing him."

Alaire sat quietly taking it all in. After a few moments, she asked, "Do you know when all this is supposed to happen?"

"No," Harry sighed. "But it can't be long now. His top two people, Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix LeStrange are out of prison. They'll be after us soon."

"But you don't know when."

"Alaire, there's not exactly a timetable when it comes to war."

"Harry, I'm trying to make a point, not an appointment," she said sarcastically. "You don't know when anything is going to happen. It could be tomorrow. It could be next month or next year. So, what are you going to do in the meantime?"

"Train. Myself and the others so we'll be ready."

"Who are the others?"

"We call ourselves Dumbledore's Army. It's sort of a Defense Against the Dark Arts club. But it's more than that really. We've taken on Deatheaters before and won. It's certainly come in handy against a few Slytherins."

Alaire pulled back from Harry and sat quietly for a few moments. Finally Harry asked, "So what do you think about all of this?"

Alaire simply shook her head. "I don't know."

Harry reached over and took back her hand. "So what do you think about us?"

"Us?" she said, her voice shaking with uncertainty. Don't get her wrong, Harry's kissing were nice. He was great, but it was all off.

"Us. I-I thought that maybe you'd . . ." Harry's voice trailed off as his courage failed as well.

"Harry, I-I just don't know." Now Alaire stood up and began pacing. What was off? Maybe it was because Harry still had so much anger. It was harmful. Neville had dealt with nearly as much as Harry and his anger was not nearly as great. It was all wrong. "The other night when you heard Snape and McGonagall talking, the hate that poured out of you was almost unbearable. It caused me physical pain. How often is that kind of thing going to happen?"

"I can't say. You don't understand. Voldemort killed my parents. I'm allowed to hate him and anyone who works with him."

"Allowed to hate? How awful."

"You don't think that I'm allowed to love, do you?" Harry said suddenly snapping at her. Alaire was slightly taken aback. That thought had never crossed her mind, but by his tone of voice it was certain that Harry had thought about it.

"Apparently, you don't think so."

That did it. Alaire could feel anger and frustration coming off of Harry. She took a deep breath and tried to calm and separate the emotions. They looked at each other for a long moment before Alaire started walking towards the door.

"Alaire, don't go. I can love! It's just that life simply has a way of getting in the way every single time I try. Don't I deserve one last chance before . . . before?" Harry said sounding a lot like a lost soul.

"Before you face Him?" A tear fell down her face. "I'm-I'm s-sorry but I don't want to be with someone who-"

"Someone who could die any moment?" Harry interrupted harshly as his emotions raged again.

"NO! I don't want to be with someone just because I make THEM happy. I have to be happy, too, Harry. And I can't be happy with someone who lets life live them when they should be out living life."

"What?! Is that some sort of American saying?"

"No. Boy, you just don't get it, do you?" she said softly.

"No, apparently not!" Harry snapped as he got up and stood in front of Alaire.

Alaire stood and looked at the person in front of her. He was cute, well, gorgeous. He was smart. He was funny. He was athletic. What was holding her back? Why was she making excuses? She put her hand over her eyes in weariness. She could still smell the scent of the magnolia that she had picked that day from the tree Neville had given her. Suddenly, she knew. She knew why she had to turn Harry down.

Thinking quickly, she decided to let Harry down as easily as possible. After all, she did truly care for him just not as much as someone else. Taking Harry's hand, she led him back to the sofa.

"What now? Going to examine my aura?" Harry asked sarcastically.

Alaire ignored him. Again, she brushed the hair out of his eyes, this time letting her hand linger against the side of his face. God, this was hard.

"H-Harry, you have something to do. I've watched you and f-felt you since that night in the corridor. You live in hate and fear of Him. I've tried to get your attention quite a few times but your mind is always somewhere planning, plotting something. There's no room for me in there," she said as tapped him lightly on his head.

"But there's room in here," he said placing her hand on his heart.

Alaire took a deep breath and pulled her hand away. "But I need both, Harry. I'm sorry."

Harry sat staring at her for a moment then asked, "What if I defeated him tomorrow?"

"What if it takes a year? Do you want me to wait until you have more time for me?" Alaire asked as gently as possible hoping against hope that Harry would see reason.

With a sigh, Harry pushed himself off the sofa and moved to stared into the fire. A few moments later Alaire heard a soft "No."

Alaire almost collapsed with relief but she felt so sad. A different time and place and she would have accepted Harry with no qualms but this situation was impossible.

"Is there someone else?" Harry asked his voice rough with raw emotions.

"Harry," Alaire said almostly pleading.

"Nevermind," he said looking into the fire.

Alaire sunk into the couch. All she could think of was to find Neville and have a good cry on his shoulder. The only problem was that he would want to know why she was upset and this conversation was very, very private. She stood and walked towards the door for a second time.

As she turned the handle, she said, "If you need me, I'll always be there for you, Harry Potter. Part of me would die if I couldn't see you or talk to you."

"Yeah. Yeah. I understand." Harry continued to stare at the fire.

"I mean it, Harry."

"I said I understand."

Alaire could only nod to herself as she walked out the door, away from Harry, and towards a certain Herbology study.

As if in slow motion, Neville's quill fell from his hand. The end landing hard on the floor and breaking as its owner nearly did the same. Stumbling in a state of near denial, Neville made his way over to where he kept his and Alaire's roses.

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, part of him desperately hoped that what was in front of him was a figment of his imagination brought on by working so late. It was almost midnight.

Opening his eyes, his heart fell to his feet. Sure enough, Alaire's rose had bloomed. The elegant burgundy petals unraveled themselves to reveal the pale orange stamen and an exotic fragrance that was sweet.

It was the first rose he had seen bloom himself. The moment should have been as sweet as the flower itself, but for Neville it was more bitter. Alaire's flower had bloomed, which meant that Harry's probably did to. The two of them were probably in the common room now snuggling by the fire and totally lost in one another.

"Damn," he cursed quietly before his emotions took more ahold on him and his volume increased. "Damn, damn, damn. Damn it to bloody hell."

Stomping over to the supply closet, Neville flung the door open and threw and shoved items aside. There was no way he would subject himself to the sight of the two of them together doing god knows what when he walked into the common room. He'd sleep in the lab tonight. It wouldn't be the first time he slept here, and if Harry and Alaire were together it wouldn't be the last. Neville seriously doubted he would be able to hold his sanity together if he had to hear about what all Alaire and Harry did from his roommate.

Finally finding the blanket and the pillow in the closet, Neville did a quick cleaning spell and made his way over to the couch. He extinguished the lights in a huff, before setting his wand on the side table. Beating the poor pillow, he finally calmed down enough and tried to settled into the couch as best he could. After a few moments of tossing, turning and fighting with the blanket he finally settled in to hear the door to the lab open.

"Neville?" came the shaking voice of Alaire followed by a sob.

Neville shot straight up from the couch, "Alaire?"

"Neville," her voice said again as he heard her start toward him.

"Lumos," Neville said grabbing his wand. Then he saw her. Her face was streaked with tears. She was looking down, her hands playing with the hem of her pajama top. "Alaire, what's the matter?"

"Oh, Neville," she cried, falling in to him and letting our a big sob.

Neville gathered her in his arms and held onto her, while she cried. Meanwhile his mind was racing. What could make her so upset? Her flower had just bloomed. Did something happen? Then a thought crossed his mind that made his blood boil. Did Harry try something with Alaire?

"Alaire, you need to tell me what happened so I can fix it or break someone's bloody neck," he said in a tender yet harsh tone.

"Neville, do you know what it feels like to break someone's heart?" she said after a few more moments of tears.

"No," he said as he looked over at her blooming rose. "I'm usually on the other end."

Silence.

"Look, Alaire, I know that it seems like the world's going to end right now but things will get better. I'm sure that Harry has his reasons for saying whatever what he did. But, you've got lots of friends around to help pick up the pieces."

Alaire pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes. "You think Harry broke MY heart?"

Neville nodded. "Yes, didn't he?"

Alaire lightly smiled and shook her head. "No, Neville. The exact opposite. I broke his." Neville just stared at her for a moment. "He asked me to go out, to be more than a friend. But I couldn't Neville."

"But your rose bloomed."

"Yes, but not for Harry."

Neville felt his heart begin to race. "Oh."

"Oh? Neville?" Alaire said pulling away from him. "Is that all you're going to say is oh? Aren't you going to ask who I DO love? No of course not," she said standing up. "I mean I was just letting my imagination get the best of me. Just wishing that maybe you felt the same, but oh no. And because you're my best friend I had to come here spilling my guts out while the whole time I'm wondering what's wrong with me other than being some sort of a freak empath –"

"I don't think you're a freak," Neville said, but he doubted Alaire heard him as she continued with her tangent.

"Oh no. Meanwhile I've been trying to rack my brains for weeks wondering what exactly Ginny Weasley had or has that I don't to even warrant a kiss from you. Harry kisses me a few times and while they were exciting kisses they weren't mind blowing considering I was wondering how they would feel coming from somebody else."

Neville's mind was a blur. He was angry that Harry had kissed Alaire more than once, but was also trying desperately to keep up with her rant. Then it occurred to him that Alaire's rant was because of him. Her flower bloomed because of him and suddenly he was overwhelmed with a feeling of joy, happiness and something else entirely.

"And just what are you so smug about!" snapped Alaire, hands on her hips in front of him.

Smiling, Neville stood up and answered her simply, "This."

Neville took a deep breath and leaned in and kissed her. It was a soft kiss, a tenative one. He leaned back and looked at Alaire waiting for all hell to break loose possibly. Instead, something wonderful happened. She smiled. Then something even better happened. She leaned forward and kissed him. By the third kiss, they leaned in at the same time, smiling. This was a real kiss. A kiss between two people in love. Neither realized that both roses behind them were blooming at an alarming rate.

"Now can you guess who I love?" Alaire asked with a smile as she placed a small kiss at the corner of Neville's mouth.

"I was so sure you liked Harry," he whispered to her.

"I do like Harry. But just as a friend."

"What about me?"

Alaire kissed him so passionately it would leave those Passion Pills to shame. "Does that answer your question?"

Neville nodded, resting his forehead against Alaire's.

"What about me?" she asked suddenly shy. "Do you like me as just a friend?"

"Alaire, you're one of the best friends I've ever had. You make me smile. I can talk to you." He paused and caressed her cheek. "You're beautiful and smart. If you like me as more than a friend, I'd be the luckiest guy in the world."

Alaire grinned. "Well, Neville Longbottom, you're about to get lucky."

Neville raised an eyebrow.

"Not like that, at least not yet," Alaire teased before kissing him again.