Title: Thank You (unique, no?)

Rating: G

Pairing: Light Harry/Neville

Feedback: Is definitely encouraged! Come on now, don't be shy.

Summary: Neville is grateful for having Harry Potter in his life, to give him a grin when nobody else does, to stick up for him when Snape is too cruel to bear, and to help him look for Trevor when he goes on his adventures. If only he could pluck up the courage to tell Harry just how thankful he is.

Flobberworms? No, no it wasn't that - that was last Tueday's.

'Eggs Benedict.' Neville said hopefully to the portrait of the fat lady. He sighed with relief when she smiled sweetly at him and the frame swung sideways allowing him through. All the way back from Moody's office he'd been biting his lip and racking his brain for the password, and he was feeling remarkably proud of himself to have remembered it, being notorious for getting locked out of the Commons. He'd even remembered to skip over the disappearing step in the staircase on the way up, and Professor Moody had given him a fascinating (well, to Neville at least) book on Cornish cliff algae. Needless to say, Neville was feeling very happy to be Neville.

He was a little surprised to find that the Gryffindor common room was empty, he obviously hadn't realised how late it had gotten while he was in Moody's office.

He found the page he'd been reading and walked over to the fireplace, ready to throw himself down into the squashy armchair and carry on reading until he felt more tired. A pair of socked feet already resting upon the foot-rest made Neville stop, his gaze following upwards to the book laid flat across his lap - and he didn't miss the stacks surrounding the chair either - to the lightning-shaped scar and the familiar face of Harry Potter. Only, not as familiar, as his glasses had slipped off and were snagged on his crooked collar, and he had his eyes closed and his mouth open ever so slightly. The Harry that Neville was used to never looked so unguarded.

Neville didn't move for a moment, watching his fellow Gryffindor peacefully. He wanted to be quiet, he had heard Harry tossing and turning sleeplessly in his bed at night, and Neville didn't blame him - they'd thrown dragons, real, fire-breathing dragons at the champions in the first task. He didn't want to wake Harry, not when he looked so serene.

Neville cared about Harry. Sometimes he didn't understand what kind of caring it was, but he knew it was there and it was constant and steady and it had been ever since Harry had shown him kindness instead of scorn. People had led by his example, and having Harry as a friend had certainly improved Neville's social status, even if he was still tormented by Malfoy's cronies.

He wanted to tell Harry how grateful he was; for his friendship and his faith in him and for all the times he bothered to save Trevor from being exploded for a laugh, but every time he found the words it wasn't appropriate, and every time it was appropriate, the words made themselves scarce and left him blushing and stuttering like a schoolgirl with a crush. Neville didn't want to be that - anything but that. Harry had enough of those to trouble him. And now this, too, on top of having to put up with the whole school thinking he was a rotten cheater for getting his name pulled out of the Goblet of Fire he had stupid journalists writing nonsense about him.

Neville sighed and pulled the afghan from the chair opposite, deciding that if the fire went out Harry would be freezing. He set the book that Harry had his fingers curled around on the floor and tucked the blanket around him carefully, wary of disturbing the light slumber.

He leaned down to pick up Harry's glasses and set them aside, letting his knuckles graze Harry's cheek for a second longer than necessary and feeling an odd calmness settle upon him at this closeness. He had the words now, to say to Harry. And maybe he did say them, so quietly under his breath to make sure Harry wouldn't wake.

He was certain he hadn't said anything aloud. Positive. He was afraid when the boy's eyelashes fluttered, and sleep-clouded green eyes peered at him. Neville moved backwards too quickly and narrowly avoided stumbling over the rug, unceremoniously maneuvering himself to fall into the chair opposite instead. Harry chuckled as he rubbed his forehead and Neville looked away as colour painted his cheeks with embarrassment.

'Uhnn I must have nodded off earlier.' Harry said through a yawn, stretching felinely. He noticed the blanket and pinched it, tugging a stray piece of fluff from the textured surface and brushing it to the floor.

'Did you put that there?' Harry asked Neville, squinting slightly in his direction while his hands smoothed over the arm of the chair in search of his glasses. He found them and put them on, regarding Neville as he pushed them up.

'Nev-?' Harry stifled a second yawn.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up.' Neville mumbled sincerely, gathering his books together and making to head for the dorms.

'Oh you didn't, don't worry about it. And thanks! It was a decent thing of you to do.' Harry replied, smiling slightly. His brow furrowed as he saw Neville retreating.

'Don't go, stay for a bit. If, er, if you want that is.' Harry added, not wanting Neville to remain out of guilt. He was craving company, and Neville was enough to take his mind off of his troubles, at least for a little while. Neville tried not to look as shocked as he felt when he turned around again.

'Uh, sure... Sure I'll stay.' He replied unsurely. Harry beamed at him and Neville's chest felt tight for a few seconds. He thought it would be a good time to tell Harry how much it meant to him, everything he'd done, but before he could open his mouth Harry had started to speak;

'I'm really struggling with this bloody egg. It just screams. That's all it does, it doesn't matter what the weather's like or whether you hold it upside-down or not, or if you boot it! That just hurts.' Harry tutted, standing over the golden egg and scowling at it.

Neville liked the way his hair was flat on one side with that ever-present unruly cow-lick at the back, worse so because of his nap in the chair. He put his book back down and stood looking down at the egg too. Well, he looked at Harry looking at the egg and that was close enough. It dawned on him that Harry had said something and he grasped for a reply that wasn't too gormless.

'You kicked it?'

That was okay, Neville though, pleased.

'Well, no.' Harry said, standing up straight and scratching the back of his neck. 'Ron did. And from the swearing that he followed it up with it hurt.'

Harry gave Neville a rueful grin that Neville reciprocated thoughtlessly, that constriction in his chest returning but twice as tight this time.

'Have you tried, uh, rubbing it? Like a magic lamp?' Neville suggested shyly. Harry looked at the egg skeptically before giving a shrug.

'Wouldn't hurt to try.'

Neville watched Harry pick it up and willed it to work, let it do something. He tried not to be too disappointed when, after almost thirty seconds with his tongue caught between his teeth as he concentrated, Harry's ministrations hadn't amounted to any change in the object.

'It's bloody stupid!' Harry growled hopelessly.

'Yeah.' Neville agreed sadly. Harry threw himself down on the floor with his back against the chair, his toes wiggling in front of the fire.

'Hey look, you'll figure it out.' Neville said optimistically. Harry just looked sullen, acknowledging the sentence with a jerk of his head. Neville dropped down next to him and was taken aback when Harry shuffled across the floor so that he had enough room to sit next to him.

'It's just I know Krum's got this one figured out already, and I'm really out of my depth... Nobody wants me to win this anyway, what's the point?' Harry sighed, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. Neville ignored the irrational impulse to press a thumb to the corner of his mouth to stop him, unthinking as he announced;

'I do.'

Harry looked startled, expecting no answer to his statement. 'Eh?'

'I want you to win it.' Neville repeated simply, his gaze determined. Harry's mouth curled upwards in a smile, the firelight reflecting from his glasses and preventing Neville from seeing his expression.

'Thanks Neville. For everything. I mean it, you're a true friend.' Harry said warmly. Neville felt a rush of happiness at his words and ducked his head as he waited for his blush to fade, fascinated all of a sudden by the pattern in the rug.

'Actually Harry,' Neville said, taking a deep breath. He was going to say it!

'Yeah?'

'I wanted to thank you. For being my friend and all, I know I'm dozy and I'm a bit of an embarrassment sometimes - especially in potions, and you don't have to be nice to me and you are, you really are, and I know you're not nice in a saying-things-behind-my-back way, you're just a really nice person, and you're always defending me and sticking up for me even when you shouldn't- I'm.. I..' Neville stopped, out of breath. It dawned on him how his inability to end a sentence and start a new one made him sound just like the swooning, giggling second years.

'Neville!' Harry said, outraged. 'You're not an embarrassment! You're my friend, I'm nice to you because I like you! Of course I stick up for you, I care about you, all right? You don't have to thank me for my friendship, returning it is thanks enough, ok?' Harry said, his tone softer as he reached the end of his speech. Neville nodded, too shamed by the tears that had formed in his eyes at Harry's sentiment. He felt like a fool.

'Hey, come here!' Harry said, half laughter, half desperation. Neville pushed surprise away when Harry's hugged him, choosing instead to remember Harry's scent and the sinewy strength of his arms encircling his waist. Surprise could go to Hell, Neville wanted to keep this in his mind for the next time he felt useless. He wanted to remember everything Harry had just said, most of all, he wanted to really believe it, the way Harry did.

After a few minutes sat like that, with Harry's arms around him and his arms around Harry, Neville expected the Gryffindor to break away from him and carry on trying to fathom the clue, or talking, or to excuse himself to go to bed. But Harry didn't do any of those things, he just stayed there, his chest flush against Neville's and his heartbeat radiating through his thin t-shirt, echoing Neville's own. All the while Neville wished the moment would never end and waited for Harry to inevitably get dead arms or get bored.

'Hey,' He murmured, yet more moments later. Neville went to draw back but Harry pulled him close again, 'No no, I was just gonna say, shall we get more comfy? My arse is numb.'

Neville laughed, nodding, 'Okay.'

Harry took hold of Neville's hand in his own and grabbed the afghan from the chair, crawling up the sofa further from the fire and patting the space next to him. Neville smiled shyly and settled down where Harry gestured, feeling that overwhelming sense of peace once more as Harry rested his head under his chin, arms tucked between them with one hand splayed over Neville's chest, feeling the steady thunk-thunk of his heartbeat. He felt his eyelids begin to droop.

'What about when someone comes down in the morning?' Neville whispered, not sure why he was whispering.

'We'll be awake by then.' Harry promised. Neville didn't believe him, but he was finding it hard to care when Harry looked like that.

'Okay.' He breathed. Harry didn't hear him. He was already dozing, and Neville felt a burst of happiness swell inside of him.

If he'd have know that this would be how Harry reacted, well then, he would have told him months ago.