38. The Lion's Den

Callie stayed away from the dungeons as long as she could. Surely, they would know about what happened, and she was not only in no mood to answer any questions, she was also scared.

What if they... ya know... did something to you?

They're not that stupid.

Yes they were. What the hell had she been thinking?

"Bela," she muttered to herself. She was fairly certain Pansy would enjoy snapping the animal's neck, and she ran down to the Slytherin Dungeon to retrieve her pet. "Bloodstone!" she shouted at the spot where the entrance should have appeared. But the password of the week did nothing. Callie tried a few that had been used in the past, but none of them were correct. Biting her lip, she gave it some thought, and said, "Pureblood."

Still nothing. Only a bare stone wall.

"Mudblood," she tried, but to no avail. Damn it, I really thought that would work.

Sighing, she made her way down to Snape's office and knocked, but he wasn't there. Then she tried his living quarters, but that was for naught too. "Of all the nights," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. Sauntering off back upstairs, she realized the place that she needed to be. I need somewhere to sleep for the night.

The Room of Requirement. Hopefully the bitch hadn't cordoned it off.

Halfway along the darkened seventh floor, Callie was surprised to see Neville coming towards her with his head bowed. Smiling to herself, she said, "Hey."

He looked up and was just as surprised - and delighted - to see her. "Hey!" he replied, holding out his wand. "Come to get this?"

Callie furrowed her brow. As they closed in on each other, she got a better look at the wand and realized that it was hers, not his.

"You threw it on the ground and forgot to pick it up," he explained.

Taking it and stowing it away, she asked, "You went back for it?"

"No, I grabbed it when everyone got stuck in the door."

She gave him a small smile and teased, "My hero."

They stood in silence for a moment, before he asked, "Anyway, what are you doing here, if not for that?"

"My dear housemates changed the password on me and locked me out. I've got nowhere to go."

Neville pondered that, studying her, and then looked around as if to make sure no one was coming. "Come on," he said, holding out his hand for her to take. He led her through the corridor and stopped before a portrait of a rather large woman in a pink dress. "Gillyweed," he said, and the portrait swung forward, revealing the Gryffindor common room.

"Is this even allowed?" Callie asked.

Turning to her as he pulled her in, Neville replied with a smile, "I guess I don't care."

"Golly, I am a bad influence," she joked.

"Keep it up," he said. "Kinda feels good breaking the rules."

The room really did look a lot like Augusta Longbottom's sitting room. Red sofas and chairs, gold carpeting and wallpaper, red drapery over the fireplace that burned low in the corner. Neville led her to a sofa that faced the flames, and grabbed them a couple of butterbeers before joining her.

"What are we toasting?" he asked, handing her one.

She thought about it, and said, "To Dumbledore's Army."

"To Dumbledore's Army," he echoed, and they clunk their bottles together. "Oh, what a run we had."

They drank in silence for a while, both of them lost in thought. Then Callie said, "I'm worried about Bela. He's in there with Pansy and Millicent. I don't think Daphne would do anything, she wouldn't care enough. And Tracey wouldn't."

Neville looked almost as worried as she felt. "I'll buy you a new bat," he said. "If anything happens. I'll keep it in here."

Smiling at the offer, Callie said, "Bela's irreplaceable."

"I know. But if anything happens..." he repeated.

Her smile widened despite the genuine look of concern on his face, as well as her own worry. "You're always taking care of me," she said. "Even from day one. You got me my first O in Herbology."

"You're a good student," he said.

"You're a good teacher."

The corner of his mouth turned up just for a moment, but he got quiet again.

Biting her lip, Callie said, "Neville, I have to ask you something." He looked up at her expectantly, and after a long pause, she whispered, "Do you like me?"

How long it had been since she'd last seen him blush. He turned his reddening face away from her and said, "Everyone likes you. Didn't we all make that clear in the owlery?"

She rolled her eyes. You're not weaseling your way out of this. "That's not what I mean," she said. "Are you attracted to me?"

He became even redder, and refused to look at her, but he said, "Half the school's attracted to you. You know that."

"Forget 'half the school,'" she said, growing irritated. "I'm asking if you are."

He was silent for a good fifteen, twenty seconds, his eyes on the ground and his face turned slightly away from her. But she stared at him and waited patiently until he replied in a low voice, "You know I am."

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to repress a triumphant grin. "How would I know that?" she asked. "You've never said anything."

He scoffed. "Why would I say anything?" he asked. Then after a pause, "I asked you to the Yule Ball, you said no."

"I didn't say no, I said I couldn't," she reminded. "You knew why. You ever seen me talk to Theo Nott before or since?"

He sighed, looking frustrated. "Figured you were trying to let me down easy."

"I spent almost the whole night with you," she argued.

"And I tried to kiss you in that broom closet," he replied, finally facing her. "And then you never mentioned it again."

She studied him, thinking back on the one time he'd tried to make a move. But they'd been interrupted. "Well, neither did you," she said.

After a moment, he looked away and replied, "No." Then, in that quiet voice again, "But I haven't gone a day without thinking about it."

He thought about kissing her. Bloody hell, if the idea hadn't crossed her mind every day since third year. Moving closer to him, she began, "Neville-" But before she could do or say anything else, he was up on his feet, pacing the room.

"Ugh, you really wonder why I didn't say anything?" he asked. "This is why, because I knew you didn't want me that way. Christ, it was killing me, Cal, lying in bed with you and touching you and not being able to do anything else! Watching you kiss other blokes on the cheek and wondering if this was going to be the one you fell for! Trying to hold back every time we were alone because I didn't want you thinking I was just another guy who wanted to-" He paused, taking a breath. "Bloody hell, you ask me if I like you? I'm crazy about you, I always have been!"

Callie gaped at him. Aside from that day with the bat, this was the most riled up she'd ever seen him. "Why are you shouting?" she asked, checking to see if anybody had come down from the dormitories.

Sighing, he said, "Because I can't hold it back anymore, it's been building for three years. Yes, I like you. Yes, I'm attracted to you. Yes, I think you're pretty - you're beautiful. And you're the only girl I've ever wanted. I don't even notice all the others. I only notice you."

She simply stared at him, a small smile forming at the corner of her mouth.

Looking away from her, as if regretting everything he'd just let out, he said, "Why did you make me say all that?"

She stood up from the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest. "Because I wanted to hear it," she replied.

Still with his eyes averted, he asked, "Why?"

Stepping towards him, she said, "Because I only notice you."

The realization slowly came to him, and he dared to meet her eye as she approached.

"You think I don't 'want you that way?'" she asked. "You think I didn't want you touching me in that bed? You think I give a damn about any other bloke in this castle, 'cause I give them a peck on the cheek?"

She came to stand no more than six inches in front of him. He struggled to keep his eyes on hers, as she said, "You really are witless sometimes, Comrade." And then she got even closer, watching him suck in a breath as she reached into his pocket and pulled out the tiger's eye she'd given him three years ago. "This was supposed to inspire confidence, of which you have none."

Practically whispering now, he replied, "I said all that, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," she said. And then, after a beat. "Have you ever kissed anyone, Neville?"

She could see him swallow hard, as red in the face as he'd ever been, as he said, "No."

"Neither have I. Let me know how I do."

Dropping the stone, she threaded her fingers through his hair and took his trembling bottom lip between her own. It was soft and sweet and experimental, but it sent a shiver down her spine. She was happy to find that he was moving with her, kissing her back. There you go, she thought, don't hold back. And then he was cupping her face in one hand, and setting the other on her waist. His reward for such boldness was to have her slide her tongue between his lips to meet his own. In response, he pulled her close against him, and if anybody walked in on this moment, she would Cruciate them.

This was worth it, she thought. Fuck friendship.

However long it had been, she didn't know. But eventually she pulled back, and asked, "How was that?"

The boy was still trembling as he breathed, "Amazing."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she ordered, "Don't ever keep any secrets from me again."

Once more, almost instinctively, he pulled her close, running a hand through her hair. "I've always been looking," he told her. "I was just more careful about it."

She smiled up at him. "Don't be so careful next time."