Neville shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to focus on the book in front of him. It was no use; he knew that. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, the fact would remain that Ron was staring at him. Again. It was uncanny, and rather unsettling, how he seemed to show up wherever Neville was. Before two weeks ago, the boy had never seemed so interested in him. It was enough to make Neville feel well and truly stalked. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

If he were completely honest, it added to the sense of displacement he'd felt since the term started. So many people were paying attention to him now. Instead of floating on the periphery, he'd finally found his place in the school's social makeup thanks to the DA. He did much better in his classes, making particular strides in transfiguration and potions. Though he would never be a potions master, he had at least stopped blowing up cauldrons and often managed to make adequate potions without Hermione's help. People were generally nicer to him. While it was nice to be noticed and included, Neville didn't quite know what to do with all the newfound popularity.

Now Ron was stalking him and he didn't know what to do about it? Why was Ron even interested in him? Had he done something and Ron was studying him so he could come up with the most devastating revenge? It seemed unlikely but then so did being stalked by his dormmate.

He was still trying to think of a plausible reason for his current predicament when he noticed Ron get and cross the common room. He slid into the seat opposite Neville and folded his hands on top of the table. Neville sat back and put his hands in his lap. "H-hello, Ron."

"Hey, Neville," Ron returned pleasantly. "I have a question for you?"

"A-a-a qu-question?"

"Yes." Ron leaned forward and Neville automatically leaned back, keeping as much distance between them as possible. "Why don't you have a girlfriend?"

Neville blinked. Surely he heard wrong. "I-I … pardon?"

"Why don't you have a girlfriend?" Ron propped his chin and stared at Neville with friendly curiosity. "There's a number of girls who'd date you if you showed the slightest interest."

"Th-there is?" This couldn't possibly be true, could it? Neville knew that girls were voluntarily talking to him now. A few had even touched him casually, but those weren't indications of interest, were they?

"Yes, they are," Ron pronounced firmly. "Lavender and Parvati are locked in an intense fight to get your attention. Hannah Abbott keeps casting appreciative glances your way. Ernie MacMillan's this close to beating you up. Pansy Parkinson's drooling over you in Potions…"

Neville's mouth dropped open at this. "You're kidding."

Grinning, Ron shook his head. "Nope, not kidding. Malfoy's probably at his wit's end, not that it'd take much, as to how to get her to stop. That doesn't take into account all the fifth year girls who make special trips past the greenhouses to get a glimpse of you with your robes off."

"It's hot in there," Neville exclaimed in his defense, his face flushing scarlet.

"No doubt," Ron agreed. "But the sight of you in your school shirt and trousers is apparently quite appealing. Of course, the fifth years aren't the only ones."

Neville stared flabbergasted at Ron's amused but sincere face. All of this had been going on around him, because of him, and he hadn't noticed? It didn't seem possible. He knew that he'd changed a lot over the summer hols but not so much as to cause this outbreak of admiration. Fat lot of good it did him, he thought as he worried his bottom lip to keep from pouting. He'd noticed that the object of his affection was quite absent from that list.

"So, back my question," Ron said when Neville didn't say anything for several moments, "why don't you have a girlfriend?"

Neville shrugged. "It's never come up." He blanched as he realized what he'd said. Please don't let Ron notice. Please don't let Ron notice. Please… "You like boys, don't you, Neville?" Ron asked quietly.

Even though his dormmate didn't look disgusted or worried, Neville was terrified. He didn't want people to know. He didn't want things to change. Since term had started, life at Hogwarts had became much more amenable; he was no longer ridiculed or humiliated on a near daily basis. If it got out that he was a pouf, all of that would go away. Neville didn't think he could handle going back to the way things were.

He opened his mouth, tried to force out an answer, but his voice had deserted him. Miserably, knowing that he didn't have any other option, Neville nodded. Damn his inability to lie convincingly. He raised watery eyes to Ron's clear, blue ones. "Please don't tell anyone?" he whispered.

Concerned sobriety bled into Ron's face. He, too, opened his mouth to speak but couldn't seem to find words. Eventually, he settled on nodding.

"Thank you."