Title: Attraction To A Hufflepuff

By: Smurf

Pairing: Nedric (The best HP pairing EVER!)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter which should be obvious, because if I did own it, Nedric would have been an important subplot within the book series. What can I say, I love these two! They just work so well.

Summary: Nedric. Neville's POV as he ponders Cedric. Companion piece to Attraction To A Wallflower.

Note: Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this, especially those who have taken the time out to review. A very special thanks goes out to alby-ruly, because they liked the idea of Nedric so much that they started nedriclove (it's at livejournal). Go, join, and spread the Nedric love! So much GLEE! I hope you all enjoy this installment.

This Part has been updated, because I finally decided to fix my mistakes and hopefully by the time I'm ready to post Nedric, I'll have learned that it's always best to wait for your beta to finish!

Attraction To A Hufflepuff
Part IV

The summer before Neville's fourth year at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry was a much more relaxing one than the previous years. There were no escaped prisoners, nor were there Dementors running around unrestrained, it was simply a summer holiday, slow and lazy, with the usual visits to his parents, and occasional trips to run errands with his Gran.

Though, Neville supposed, it was a rather special summer. The Quidditch World Cup was to be held in England that year. The final was to be Ireland vs. Bulgaria; a match he wanted more than anything to see. He was positive that Seamus Finnegan would be there, and more than likely the rest of the Quidditch enthusiasts from Hogwarts as well. He would have been overjoyed to be able to attend the event, but, as it was, his Gran didn't plan on spending her money on the cost of tickets. Neville would have to miss out, and even though he was more than certain that his dorm mates would regale him with a play by play of the event he was left with a feeling of disappointment in the pit of his stomach.

So, while the others were watching Quidditch, Neville was in the hospital, speaking to his Mum, using the same gentle tone he supposed that she would have used on him when he was a small child. It seemed to keep her calm, and calm was definitely a good thing. His Dad, unlike on other visits, seemed to be paying attention to the conversation as well.

Of course, Neville knew that they weren't really paying attention, they were just focusing on the sounds he made, the cadence of his voice. At least that was one thing he had. He knew he wasn't the best looking boy, or the smartest, or even the bravest, but he did have some things that he could be proud of. One was his remarkable aptitude for herbology, and the other was his voice. It was soft, and soothing- even if he did some times stutter (but he only did that when he was flustered, or nervous… unfortunately being a shy lad, that was quite often)-, many times it was enough to get his mother out from her hiding spot in the corner of the room. It also helped a lot when dealing with the animals Hagrid used as teaching aids in his Care of Magical Creatures class.

The following morning however, Neville was rather glad that he had missed the Quidditch Cup. He had no desire to get within a hundred yards of a death eater, let alone a riotous group of them. A strange sinking feeling, like a heavy black stone had decided to settle in the pit of his stomach, came over him. He hadn't been allowed to read the papers- or at least not the stories printed about the Death eater's riot after Ireland's win over Bulgaria- as his Gran had hidden them away from him.

He understood why she had done it. She was trying to protect him in her own way. He was, after all, all that she had left of her son, and because of that she was perhaps a little over zealous in her role as care giver, always wanting to shelter him, and attempting to mould him into a perfect copy of what his father, Frank Longbottom, had been before he had defied He-who-should-not-be-named, and become the broken wizard he was today, living within his own mind at the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo's Hospital.

Still, he couldn't help but to resent it at times. Not that he would ever let his feelings on the matter. No. Because Neville, was kind, and in his own way, he was protecting his grandmother (her feelings at the very least), by letting her protect him.

Instead of sneaking out to buy his own paper, Neville remained by her side, in the house, which was where his grandmother wanted him to be; safe and sound from any death eater or other danger the world could throw in his path. Besides, he would hear the story soon enough once he was at Hogwarts. He only hoped that his friends, the boys he shared a dorm with, the rest of the Weasley brood, Hermione Granger (Ginny, whom he had befriended while helping her with a Herbology assignment during second year, had written him, and told him that the muggle born genius would be going to the Quidditch Cup as a guest of the Weasley family along with Harry Potter), and Cedric Diggory would be safe and sound and waiting at platform 9 ¾ like every other year.

The heavy feeling in his stomach altered slightly at the thought of the older boy, the unease was still there, but it was accompanied by something all together different, and he couldn't quite describe the feeling; all he knew was that at some point between noticing the older boy, and now his crush had only intensified in its strength. There was no use denying it, Neville was in- although it was a bit sudden… at least he thought so- love. Why else would he be more afraid for a boy he barely knew than he was for his friends and dorm mates?

Finally the day Neville had been waiting for arrived; it was time to head back to Hogwarts. He would finally get to see his friends, and possibly even catch a glimpse at the Hufflepuff whom had managed to catch his fancy. And a glimpse he indeed managed to catch. As Neville rolled his trolley toward the train to be stowed away, he managed to spot Cedric Diggory out of the corner of his eye. He smiled to himself, all the worry he had been harboring dissipating at finally being able to see for himself that the boy was perfectly all right. Neville boarded the Hogwarts Express, and watched out the window as Cedric helped a small girl with her things. Another smile lit his face at that particular scene. Cedric was indeed a very kind boy, and a gentleman to boot. It wasn't any wonder that Neville had caught himself falling for the dark haired, stormy eyed seeker; he was perfection personified.

Neville didn't see the other boy again until the sorting ceremony that evening in the Great Hall, and still it was from a distance. Throughout the ceremony, Neville kept stealing small glances at the strapping young lad that was Cedric Diggory. Once or twice he even caught the object of his affections casting looks in his direction… though he could have just as easily been watching someone else in his general vicinity. But… it didn't feel that way; it felt like he was the one being watched, and he had to admit that he rather liked it, like all the other times that had come before, he felt safe.

The ceremony ended, and Dumbledore rose from his seat to make his yearly welcome speech, which was usually accompanied by a series of warnings about school rules, for example, the forest was indeed off limits still; there was more to it this time though. The usual announcements were accompanied by news that the Triwizard Tournament would be held at Hogwarts that year, beginning with the arrival of the other competing schools in October, and continuing on until its end at the close of the scholastic year. Somewhere in between all of that, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor was introduced (one Professor Moody, better known as Mad-Eye). Neville could only hope that this Professor would last; it was quite frustrating having to deal with a new instructor every year. Defense Against the Dark Arts, was a subject best taught by one teacher who knew the subject well (like Professor Lupin, even though he had turned out to be a werewolf) than by a string of instructors who weren't quite as good at passing on their knowledge.

Classes began, as always, much too soon for Neville's liking. He would have been quite content given one whole day of freedom to better organize himself, and get readjusted to actually having to be up and ready to start the day before ten am. But then, he supposed that it was a mandatory sort of pain that everyone- with the possible exception of Hermione Granger, and a few Ravenclaw's who actually seemed to like getting up early- had to go through after the brief reprieve of a lovely lazy summer.

By the middle of September Neville had decided, that yes, Professor Snape still held the title of scariest man alive (he who must not be named was not, technically speaking, alive), Draco Malfoy and his band of snaky cohorts were still gits (though he held out hope that they would out grow that one day), and that he missed not seeing Cedric anywhere but in the Great Hall for meals. It wasn't as if there was anything between them, other that is than Neville's longstanding crush on the older boy, but still, he liked to be around him, even if it was just to watch him, as he pushed his peas about his plate with a thoughtful look on his handsome face.

Why the school insisted on serving peas Neville was quite unsure; carrots were much tastier.

It wasn't until the early days of October- the third to be exact- that Neville got to see the object of his affections outside of the setting of the Great Hall. It was a pleasant thing, reassuring almost, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out the reasons behind than particular thought. Still Neville would have liked the opportunity to see Cedric in a more private setting. Who doesn't want to have the opportunity to be alone with their crush, after all? Even so, he was positive that he blushed- even if just lightly- every time he came within a distance no greater than a few meters of the upperclassman, and was grateful that his friends were there, so that he could blame the stain of his cheeks on one of Seamus's jokes, or teasing comments.

Ginny Weasley, though not as book smart as Hermione (who was?), was the first person to recognize the fact that Neville was hiding something. She was also the first to figure out that the something he was hiding was a crush, and she was the only one to determine who that crush was on. Not that Neville was surprised by that fact in the least, for although Ginny wasn't the top student in her year, she was by far the most observant.

He was thankful that Ginny knew about his secret, as well as for the fact she so incredibly understood the whole thing. She even took time out to listen and talk to him on occasion, and she had been the one who had suggested that he attempt to get closer to the seventh year Hufflepuff, or at the very least, say hello to him when they passed in the halls. Ginny, was an perceptive sort, and because of that her advice- at least when she wasn't still half consumed by that famous Weasley temper- was more often than not quite sound. So, Neville decided to take it; saying hello couldn't hurt. He'd done it once before… although that had been more of a good morning than a hello, but still, it amounted to the same thing, and if he ever wanted his dark haired crush to know of his feelings, then he would have to start somewhere, and a hello was just as good a place to begin as anywhere.

Hello, finally came on the twelfth of October. Neville had seen Cedric coming out of Charm's with Professor Flitwick- a tiny cheerful sort of man, who wore glasses, and always seemed to have energy to burn- and so he had nodded, and murmured a quiet, "Hi, Cedric," as he passed the older boy.

Cedric had responded with a vaguely confused, "Uh… H-hi Neville," and had headed off to his next class. Both boys wore semi-dazed expressions and faint blushes.

Neville was relieved that he had finally gotten the nerve to speak to the older boy, even if it was just a brief exchange of a greeting in the hallways between classes. But that greeting begot another one, and another one, and soon they were carrying on brief conversations, consisting of a greeting, a question or statement followed by a response, and a farewell. Things were definitely looking up for the timid lion.

The flyers announcing the arrival of the other schools competing in the Triwizard Tournament could be found on nearly every wall, column, and message board in the castle. The competition would be arriving on the thirtieth of that very month, after which the tournament would get underway. The week leading up to their arrival was filled with snappish comments from Snape- even more so than usual, the near mental breakdown of Professor McGonagall, who had always seemed to be the very epitome of poise, and a general increase of stress for both staff and students alike.

Neville would be glad when the visitors finally arrived, maybe then things would settle back down to some semblance of normalcy, even though he was fairly certain that Hogwarts and normal didn't even belong in the same sentence since the arrival of Harry Potter some four years ago. A small wry smile graced the sandy haired youth's face at that thought.

The day of October thirtieth found the Great Hall decorated in a very elegant way, not overdone at all, it was extravagant enough to suit the significance of the occasion, but simple enough to make it seem all the more wonderful. Still there was that air of unease about the school; teachers constantly reminding their charges to be on their best behavior, as they were all ushered outside to wait for the two guest schools to arrive.

Neville found himself in front of a group of slightly older Slytherin's. But he didn't mind much; it wasn't the older Slytherin's who picked on him. They were either too mature to bully underclassmen, or they simply didn't care enough either way about him to bother, not that he minded though. It was nice knowing that not the entire Slytherin house had it out for him.

The first to arrive was Beauxbaton, in a flying carriage pulled by a team of enormous winged horses. Neville hadn't been expecting that; he didn't rightly know what he had been expecting, but what ever it was it hadn't been that, and in his surprise he stumbled back a pace only to tread on the toes of a Slytherin who was easily twice his size. Thankfully the bigger boy didn't retaliate, and instead only steadied him, and nudged him forward back into his place, with a short whisper of, "Don't worry about it, I'm not so stupid as to do anything in front of him."

Now that had thoroughly confused the young Gryffindor. He was so confused, in fact, that he hadn't even noticed that Durmstrang was just getting there in what appeared to be a gigantic black ship. Do what in front of whom exactly? It was all most curious.

Once the representatives from both schools landed, for lack of a better way to describe their rather fantastical entrances, the Hogwarts students returned inside, and made their way to the Great Hall, and the feast that was to be held in honor of the new arrivals.

Neville took his usual seat at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by his usual group of friends, including the Creevy brothers, the Weasley brood, his dorm mates, and Hermione Granger, whom he thought would have gotten along just as well in Ravenclaw as she did in Gryffindor. The feast was brilliant; the food was amazing, even if some of their guests obviously didn't share that sentiment. They were informed then of the rules for entering into the Triwizard Tournament, as well as when the deadline for entry was. Neville wondered somewhat idly if Cedric would enter. He would make a good Hogwarts Champion, he was a good student, and he was handsome, and brave- you almost had to be if you played Quidditch, it wasn't exactly a sport for the faint of heart-; he was all of the things that a champion should be, and who cared if Neville was biased, it wasn't as if it weren't the truth.

The evening of the drawing of the three school champions found Neville Longbottom, once more at the Gryffindor table in a state of anticipation. He had heard that Cedric had entered; he knew others had as well; such as that boy he had stepped on… what was his name? Oh! Warrington. Yes, the lad from the Slytherin Quidditch team, who had made that confounding statement the other day. Even Angelina Johnson had entered her name into the Goblet of Fire. Now, all there was left to do was wait and see who the enchanted goblet chose for the tasks that lay ahead.

The Goblet glowed slightly, and the room dimmed, becoming completely dark with the exception of the soft glow of candlelight peeking out from the carved pumpkins that decorated the Hall, and the strange light emanating from the enchanted cup. The light grew in intensity, until a piece of parchment- slightly charred- was spat out from it, and caught by Dumbledore. The name was read, and the champion was told to wait in the small chamber behind the staff table for the other two champions before receiving any further instructions. The process was repeated, until there was only one Champion left to be named… the Hogwarts Champion.

The final name was finally dislodged from the Goblet, and read out loud. Cedric Diggory had been named the Hogwarts Champion. Neville felt a spark of pride swell in his chest, as he clapped for the boy who had captured his fancy. He smiled when Cedric disappeared into the same door that Fleur Delacour, and Viktor Krum had gone through a few moments before hand.

The sorting was over, or so everybody believed. But it seemed that the Goblet had other ideas. Which was rather strange wasn't it. It had done its job, and now it was supposed to go back to being dormant. So what was it playing at?

A fourth piece of parchment was expelled from the Goblet, much to everyone's surprise, and the name Harry Potter was called. Harry looked just as stunned as the rest of the occupants of the Great Hall, if not more so. Neville felt a pang of something resembling sympathy for Harry. This sort of thing happened to the green-eyed boy a lot. Too often than was good for him, Neville was certain.

So when Harry left the table, and exited the Great Hall, entering into the chamber that held the other champions, Neville's eyes followed, though not with the accusation that most of the others seemed to be displaying on their faces, nor did he watch in disbelief, he watched with caring. Harry was his friend, and he knew for a fact that the boy-who-lived, had not wanted to enter into the competition, even if it had been possible for him to do so. He had said it himself. Harry had been glad of the age restriction put on the tournament.

What transpired behind that door once Dumbledore and a select few others disappeared behind it as well, Neville didn't know, but he was positive it wouldn't be good. He'd simply have to wait, along with everyone else.

Time rolled by, things were certainly less than a bowl of cherries… well unless you meant the pits. His friends were bickering, and in the case of Harry and Ron, straight out ignoring one another. And with everything the way it was, he hadn't been able to get near enough Cedric to even say hello to him! The older boy seemed to be surrounded by a constant swarm of cheerleaders, most of whom were girls who glomped on to the admittedly fit Hufflepuff at every given opportunity. If Neville were a more demonstrative sort, he might have been sorely tempted to let his jealousy be known, however, he wasn't that type, and so he settled for sighing discontentedly as he lay in his bed at night.

Soon enough, the first task was upon them all. The Champions were gathered, the judges prepared, and the spectators settled into watch. Neville was among them, sitting in the stands, awaiting the start of the first task, and supporting both his crush and his friend. When Cedric took the field Neville clapped, and cheered for him, even if it got him some strange looks from his fellow Gryffindor's; he simply didn't care. Cedric was a Hogwarts Champion too, and as such deserved the support.

Neville watched in fascination, as Cedric set about completing his task, and then in horror as Cedric managed to complete his objective, but get caught by a blast of flame at the same time. He wanted to leave the stands, and follow Cedric to the medic tent, but he couldn't. He was frozen to the spot, mouth ever so slightly agape, and his face pale with worry. The young Gryffindor kicked himself for that later, as he didn't see Cedric again until his face was completely healed some several weeks later.

The Yule Ball was a source of excitement for everyone at Hogwarts visitor or otherwise. It seemed that everyone was clamoring to find him or herself a date, not just any date, but the perfect date. Neville knew who that would be for him, unfortunately, the person he would have wanted to attend the dance with, was already going with Cho Chang, a very pretty Ravenclaw, who just so happened to be the seeker for her house team, and Harry's crush. He asked Hermione, though he was more than positive that he would be turned down, and then he had asked Ginny.

Ginny, being only a third year wouldn't be allowed to attend with out an escort from at least the fourth year class, so she had agreed, besides, Neville was her friend, and she knew that he didn't want to be anything more than that. At least Ginny was a good shoulder to lean on when Neville needed to. She always knew what to say, though he had a sneaking suspicion that all the time she was telling him to ignore the rumors about Cho and Cedric being together, that she was at the same time wishing for the rumors to be true, just so that Harry would get over the pretty Ravenclaw girl, and maybe see her as more than just Ron's little sister. And with Cho being chosen as the thing Cedric would miss most for the second chance, it seemed clear that the two seekers really were involved in a relationship that was slightly more than just friendly.

So it was that sweet, kind, Neville seemed destined forever to love from afar. It really did seem quite unfair to him, though he understood of course. Cho was a nice girl, and he rather liked her, or what he knew of her from the few times they had happened to meet when their grandmothers were visiting with one another. So, he began to avoid Cedric, not wanting to do or say anything stupid that might embarrass himself, or Cedric, or both of them. It wasn't all that difficult to do, Neville was only a fourth year, so they didn't share any classes, and he wasn't a Hogwarts Champion, thank Merlin, so he didn't have to do any of the interviews or other such things that the four Triwizard contestants were made to go through together.

Still he didn't feel right, avoiding Cedric as he had done since the end of the second task many weeks earlier. He made up his mind to put an end to it, and at least wish his crush good luck with the final task. It was the least that he could do, especially since he had extended that courtesy to Harry that morning in their dorm.

And so, Neville made his way down to where he knew the third and final task would be preformed, hoping to come across Cedric. It appeared though that Cedric wasn't there yet, because he could clearly make out the figures of Harry, smaller than the others and standing in a nervous posture, Fleur, willowy and elegant, and Viktor, buried under the layers of his school uniform.

What was with all of that fur anyway? Surely it wasn't necessary at the moment; the poor Durmstrang students must have been sweltering in those heavy things.

He was so lost in his musings about the comfort level of the Durmstrang students that he didn't hear the footsteps that were coming up behind him, nor did he notice them stop directly behind him.

"Hello, Neville," Cedric's voice brought him out of his thoughts, "Off to wish Harry luck?"

Surprised, Neville turned to face Cedric, and noticed that the older boy was smiling down at him. Smiling. Smiling at him. Cedric was smiling at him. Neville was positive that he was blushing, and he didn't quite trust his voice yet so he settled for shaking his head indicating that no, he wasn't there for Harry.

At Cedric's befuddled look the younger boy tried to explain himself, "N-no. I- I already wished Harry good luck before he left the dorm this morning…" Neville cast his eyes downward. Why did he have to turn into a stuttering mess now of all times! He knew what he wanted to say, he knew why he had gone and sought the older boy out; he may as well get it out. "I…" he stopped, wanting to avoid stuttering again if he could, and cleared his throat with a quiet little grunting noise. "I was coming to wish you good luck as well… I mean… you're a Hogwarts champion too, and-" Oh great, now he was babbling. Wonderful.

When Neville finally looked up, he saw Cedric positively beaming at him; the look on the Hufflepuff's face could be described in no other way, and Neville suddenly found it very difficult to remember what he had meant to say next.

"Neville," Cedric's voice rescued him from feeling like an idiot for not continuing his thought right away. Then the older boy did something Neville hadn't expected. He thanked him! Certainly, Cedric was a gentleman, but Neville hadn't actually thought he would thank him for his wishes of luck in the upcoming event. He could feel his face grow hotter as Cedric continued to look at him, and suddenly he could do nothing but nod before heading off, and leaving the dark haired boy to his Champion duties.

Suddenly there was a tug at his wrist, and Cedric's voice pleading with him to wait. Neville looked at his trapped hand only to find Cedric's strong fingers wrapped securely, but not bruisingly around his wrist. Now it was more than fair to say that Neville was confused. He had absolutely no idea what was going on, or why Cedric had stopped him, had he found out about his crush on him? Oh he hoped not… he didn't think he could handle an, 'I like you, but I just don't like you, like you' speech.

For a long moment, the two of them stood there, frozen, looking at one another, and then it happened. Neville felt himself being pulled- without too much difficulty, and no resistance- against the taller, darker, and older male. That was a shock in itself, but when he felt Cedric's mouth cover his own shyly, all coherent thought flew out the proverbial window, and he did the only thing he could do; he melted against the other boy, and kissed him back.

When the kiss was over both boys were slightly dazed, Cedric seemed to have a relieved, happy expression on his face, and Neville though more than a little shocked, had his fingertips resting against his lips as if he weren't quite certain that it was all real, which he wasn't. For all he knew he was still asleep, and this was all a dream.

Cedric's light chuckle brought the younger boy to his senses, "Wha-? I… What about Ch-Cho… I thought…" He was stuttering again, but this time he couldn't bring himself to care. He had been more than certain that the two seekers were together, but Cedric had just kissed him, so that couldn't be the case. Could it?

The dark haired boy smiled, and shook his head in the negative, assuring Neville that he and Cho were just friends, and nothing more. Then the hand that had been holding Neville's wrist, slid and shifted so that it was now holding his hand, while the other cupped the young boys face, and Cedric smiled again, a soft smile that Neville could only think to call loving, as he asked the young Gryffindor to wait for him. Neville agreed never suspecting what was to come next or how long he would be left waiting… He never expected Cedric to die.

FIN

So, ATAH finally ends with the lack of grammar mistakes I always envisioned it would have. I still like ATAW better, but I think Neville deserved his side of the story to be heard as well.

Please review and let me know what you think.

I still have to post Nedric, which explains how Neville deals with the death of his handsome Hufflepuff. So be on the look out for that as well as some other POV's. I'm thinking of doing some sidepieces from Cho, Ginny, and Warrington's pov's.

Thank-you for reading, or, in some cases, re-reading; remember reviews are always appreciated.

Hugs and Oreos!
Smurf.