When Draco Malfoy is lying on the flooded floor of a bathroom, drenched in water and his own blood, Harry doesn't remember that he knows a healing spell. When he thinks back on it later, he remembers Draco screaming with no memory of the sound. If that means Draco didn't scream or did and Harry forgot, he'll never know.

/

Before the first detention, Harry located Neville in the library. "Hey," he greeted Neville quietly. "Can we talk some place?"

/

"You ever think about why Snape is. . ."

Neville finished the sentence with words Harry had never heard him use. "Not really, no. Some people just like being cruel. It's power to them." He was sitting on a stone bench, but Harry was so agitated he had remained standing in the emptied hall.

"My dad went to school with Snape," Harry started.

"Really? Bet they didn't like each other."

"Yeah. Seeing as my dad was an arrogant toerag."

Harry snorted when Neville's eyebrows shot up and explained about James's school behavior. "He went after Snape the most. That's why Snape has it out for me."

Neville cursed, looking stricken. "But that's not your fault, it was before you were born."

"I know but, when I was a kid, I used to think-anyone who'd gotten bullied like that, had whole crowds of people turning on them, been alone, they'd never do it to someone else," he effused, "not if they knew how it felt."

"Well, most of us don't," Neville replied firmly, "it's just Snape that wants to hex anyone he associates with your dad."

Harry couldn't agree, and it nagged at something that made him feel dirty. "I hardly blame him. First magic I wanted to learn was how to hex my cousin," he reminisced. "He's a muggle though, so I didn't."

"Your cousin?" Neville asked blankly. "Was he mean?"

Harry wrinkled his nose and shifted his weight back and forth, embarrassed the Dursleys' behavior could still leave him angry and hopeless. "My mom's whole family is muggles, and her sister-my aunt-raised me. If you can call it that. They never wanted me around. They hated magic, and they hated me," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring at the ground.

"That's awful," Neville told him fiercely. The show of support deflated Harry's guard and years of petty slights bubbled up.

"I always wanted to get one up on him when I could, I just got punished for everything he didn't," he tried to explain, "They let him punch me, eat all my food, anything. Then I'd mouth off or something just because I knew he was going to hit me anyway. The school we went to didn't stop him or anyone he ran with."

When he checked, he found Neville offering a sympathetic grimace. "But my aunt's family was worse, see, they never liked anything about me. A lot of times they just watched and enjoyed it- like if the way they cut my hair turned out stupid, or I burned myself on some bleach my aunt made me clean with-"

He felt pathetic. He wasn't sure he could look anyone in the eye right now if his life depended on it.

"-or when my cousin made me stand in a toilet-"

"A toilet?!" Neville exclaimed like this was the most disgustingly shocking piece of information he could have received. Harry's head shot up, distracted from his rant by the humiliation sweeping over him.

"Don't look at me like that, you have definitely had someone put you in a toilet!"

"I-I know I have!" he shared in confused horror, "I didn't know YOU had!"

Harry choked out a laugh. Then laugh was all he could do. He bent over struggling to breathe from laughing at the top of his lungs. The fact that for all their differences, this and the prophecy to kill a being of ultimate evil were things they shared was just fantastic. And Neville was laughing too, and looking at him without a hint of admiration.

"Not to interrupt, Longbottom, but Potter has an appointment."

They went quiet and turned with their faces still frozen in open grins. Snape had interrupted them to make sure Harry made it miserably into detention. Harry collected himself, and as he walked by, Neville grabbed his sleeve.

"If this is 'cause of Malfoy-"

"Potter!" Snape snapped over him.

Neville jerked his head at Snape. "You don't have to be him."

With a surge of affection, Harry smiled down. Neville grinned at him, and then again when he was following Snape and looked back.

"Having fun, Potter?" Snape drawled.

"No sir. Never."

/

Somehow Neville had been lurking in the dungeons instead of attending the quidditch final. "You didn't go see Ginny?"

"Detention," he answered flatly. "I used a shield charm on some first years a bunch of Slytherins tried to hex, one of them got hit by his friend's spell. Problem was, I did it nonverbally, so Filch wouldn't believe I didn't cast the hex myself. . ."

Harry warmed at the thought."You could've gone straight up to the tower," he pointed out casually.

Neville just gave him a withering look. "I wanted to make sure Snape let you out alive. You are alright, aren't you?"

Harry shrugged. "Snape's been worse. He's just guilting me now."

"Good, he's barely worth your time. Quid agis?" Neville asked the portrait of the fat lady.

"You'll see."

They stepped through the portrait hole into a room full of cheers.

"We won!"

Ginny barreled towards them and seized both in a great hug, an arm wrapped around each of their necks. The entire room felt electric.

"Ginny, that's amazing!" cried Neville, and she released him with a forceful kiss on the cheek. She ran back into the crowd with a whoop of victory.

Neville leapt into a hug with Harry, shouting a barely audible "congratulations" and for several delirious seconds Harry didn't know if he wanted to flee or be held like this for the rest of his life. Then Neville pulled away and he realized the room had gone quiet.

Ginny was kissing Katie Bell.

/

Most people were outside that afternoon, but Neville and some fifth years were using the common room to study.

Ginny scooted towards Neville on the couch and looked at him affectionately. "Keep a secret?"

"Sure."

"I asked Katie Bell on a date!" She whispered in excitement.

"That's a secret?"

Ginny flushed. "The date is! She's graduating soon so it's not like we're getting serious, but I've really liked her since she came back and we've actually played at the same time. It's nice to have a chance at spending time together." With one hand she gripped her own loose fingers, wringing them.

"I mean I liked Dean, and-the other ones were okay," she smiled ruefully. "But with Katie, I liked her even when I wanted to avoid it. I almost stopped talking to her."

Neville was surprised. "But you're happy you're going on a date with her now?"

Ginny's face lifted and her eyes shone. "Yes! Yes, I can't believe I didn't just say it. Would've saved me worrying about it."

Neville smiled at her in a quiet, genuine way. "I'm really happy for you, Ginny."

She fidgeted, looking very pleased with herself.

"Have you talked to Harry lately?" he asked politely.

"Not really. He's been pretty serious since the. . .you know."

Neville's shoulders drooped. By the day after the quidditch final, Harry had developed a discouraging habit of staring at walls or outright leaving the room whenever he saw Neville. Several times now he'd found the garden snake waiting for him and even introduced it to Professor Sprout, but Harry would be nowhere in sight. "Maybe that's why he doesn't feel like talking. But he talked to me about it, I don't know why he'd avoid me now. I hope he's not mad at me."

"He talked to to you about Malfoy? Voluntarily?"

"Not specifically but it was, uh. Related," Neville shrugged, sliding down his seat, "Probably."

Ginny bumped his arm. "He told us what happened, but Hermione could barely get him to admit he shouldn' t've been following Malfoy into bathrooms alone before he tried to end the conversation. Maybe you could just try again?"

Neville just looked at her balefully. She regarded him, half pity and half amusement. "Do you like Harry?"

Neville hesitated. "I'm not in love with him, if that's what you're asking. But yeah, I like him. A lot."

"Have you ever been in love, then? With someone not Harry?" Ginny was beyond curious. Neville looked into the distance. He replied flatly.

"Ernie Macmillan. First year."

Ginny stared at him like they'd never met.

"I know, I know, he's-"

"A fathead."

"I didn't really notice for a couple years." Neville wrinkled his nose to keep talking through the embarrassment. "He used to talk to me in Herbology. He'd start conversations with me, and I wouldn't really have to say anything because he'd just. . .keep talking."

"About himself!" Ginny laughed uproariously while Neville muttered "well, yeah." Several students looked at them with great insult, but Neville felt good being this open with someone.

/

Hi Harry,

Don't spread it around, but I've been relieved of spying and stationed here in Hogsmeade. I'd like to write more, how have you been? The butterbeer and chocolate here are doing me a lot of good.

Remus Lupin

May had sent the best gift Harry could have hoped for.

/

It took a lot of wheedling, but through a combination of aggressive concern and threats to sneak out to Hogsmeade, Harry convinced Lupin to show himself at the castle. Plenty of students would have been elated to see their favorite old DADA teacher, but Lupin had insisted they meet in private.

"I'd rather not run into people. Not all of them would be happy to see me, Harry," Lupin told him as they left the entrance hall.

Harry could think of at least one person who'd be nasty about it. "That reminds me. Neville said you showed him a spell at the ministry." Harry recounted Snape's scathing analysis of Finite as they walked.

Lupin looked rather uncomfortable. "Ah, yes, Severus would remember it. I used spell canceling enough in our school years that I stumbled upon the shortcut version by accident."

Harry's imagination filled in several blanks rapidly as they ducked into the nearest classroom. "He's just mad you didn't use it to help him!"

Lupin stared at a wall. "I was a loyal friend, I think. Or I gave up arguing in the face of a significant lack of concern," he answered to Harry's stunned conclusion.

Harry took long enough to grasp this and spared him further guilt by pressing on when they sat down. "When did you show Neville that, anyway? After I left? He reckons I saw it, too."

"Perhaps. . . " Lupin considered, "You had just experienced a great loss. I'd be more surprised if you had absorbed every detail of your surroundings. I do recall Neville being curious when he and Ginny were giving me a rundown."

This answer still didn't satisfy Harry, given how clearly he remembered Dolohov using a unique flame spell on Hermione. But he couldn't remember what Dolohov had said, come to think of it, and he still hadn't figured out what Lupin would've needed to cancel anyway, so he moved on. Lupin had brought butterbeer and Harry foisted a pile of pastries from the kitchens on him. "Well, anyway. . .You're done spying on the werewolves, right?"

"Yes, and good riddance. Can't say I'll miss any of Greyback's followers," Lupin spat, clearly in the mood to vent. "All the suffering we endure, all the baggage of that initial attack, and all they want to do is harm people themselves the minute they've got the power to do so."

Harry nodded emphatically.

"A number of the werewolves didn't seem interested in working with Voldemort, but Greyback and his group either killed or drove them out of the country," Lupin heaved with a sigh, "I expect they'll be regrouping some place beyond Voldemort's reach."

Harry had a drink. "Is it good, being back with the order?"

"Everyone's feeling rather serious when they don't have drink in them, I think. But it's been peaceful in the village for months. I'd rather catch up with Alastor and Bill than," Lupin waved his bottle around with a dismissive gesture Harry took to mean his past company. "It's good to have company when you're- taking a stand, I suppose." He was starting to deflate. "Speaking up alone is rather demoralizing. How are things on your end?"

"Uh," Harry grunted, "Ginny and Ron won the quidditch cup."

"You mean your team won?"

Harry swallowed a sip of butterbeer, feeling the shame in his throat. "Not my team, no. I was in detention."

"I heard about that, actually," Lupin informed him severely. His disappointment felt several times worse than Snape's continuous jibes.

"It was a bad move and I deserve the detention, every one of them," Harry said quickly.

"You're fortunate Severus was there."

This was blatantly salt in the wound, but since Harry wasn't the literal wounded party he took it in stride. "I know."

The mood ruined, they went quiet until Harry couldn't take it anymore. He soundlessly tapped the palm of his hand on a desk. "Lupin, have you ever been scared of being with someone?"

Lupin's expression soured. "Most people get a bit scared of asking someone on a date, Harry," he replied with forced amusement.

Harry shook his head quickly. "It's not that, it's different this time. I dated a girl last year, I was really into her and it did feel a lot like this but I wasn't scared out of my mind. Now I'm, I think I'm in love with someone I've been friends with, and there's loads of reasons it could be but none of them feel like they explain it." If his body wasn't actually jittering, something under his skin was.

"What exactly do you think you're afraid of, then?" Lupin asked sternly.

"Every time we see each other now, it feels like. . .like there's nothing under my feet, or like the world is gonna end, or I'm in danger," Harry's eyes stung, "and it didn't feel like this before. I don't know anything that would make me feel like this just because I like someone."

When Lupin didn't respond, Harry got desperate. "My parents-how did they handle being together in the Order? They must have been scared."

"Your parents were very brave to be together on the front line, yes," he finally responded, wistfully. "We lost good people, without much peace in between. But. . .sometimes that made it even more important," he whispered, "to appreciate what we had."

"Even if. . . any of you could die?" Harry rasped, forming words slowly until he could ensure his voice wouldn't crack, "Even if, maybe you weren't lucky enough for the people you cared about to make it?"

Lupin was finding it very painful to look at him now. "We've lost a lot of people, Harry."

Harry had to get whatever this was out of his system. "Lupin, I told you about Neville, I saw him-like I saw Cedric, and Sirius, and my parents."

"Yes, you've seen too many people get hurt for someone your age." To his embarrassment Lupin put a hand on his arm. A powerful need kept him going but also made the whole thing worse, somehow. Experiencing this much emotion in front of someone just felt like raw agony, as if his body held some void that could swallow him whole and leave nothing behind.

"Because of me, all my friends have gotten hurt by being with me, I hurt people."

"You are not at fault for the actions of everyone who has acted against you. These are circumstances out of your control. So long as you don't curse someone who doesn't need it again," Lupin finished firmly. He emptied his bottle. "I know what you mean better than I'd like to, Harry. That doesn't mean you stop living."

/

The next time he ran into Neville, he made himself return a greeting. The fear was still there, but that didn't excuse him from making an effort.

"Are you mad at me?" Neville asked almost immediately

"No-"

"Okay. Then can we sit and talk? Privately?"

Neville led him to the greenhouse. Harry apologized on the way.

"I was avoiding you, it wasn't, well," he tried, "I didn't have a good reason."

"Were you feeling okay?"

Harry cringed. "No. But I still wanted to talk to you." He didn't have to tell Neville, but they could still be friends. . .

They found a shaded spot against the wall and sat opposite each other. "It's about the stuff I told you my family did," Neville started uncertainly, "I know it was bad. That was why I told you about it, I wanted you to understand.

"You asked me how I hadn't talked to my family about-what they did to me. I'm sorry I didn't really listen. But to be honest, I don't remember a lot of the big stuff. I remember almost drowning and the fear, but the details are all. . .I only know exactly what happened because my Great Aunt laughed about it at parties," Neville admitted.

Harry grimaced in sympathy, but Neville flinched from his gaze and stared between his knees. "That doesn't make it right, but I don't know if I need to talk about it or if I could. Most of what I remember about that whole time is how I felt, not what actually happened.

"And Gran's not like that now, really, I wrote to them-Professor Sprout wants to do research starting next year and she wants me to help, they were all happy for me. Gran said she wanted me to be happy even if maybe I-" Neville took a deep breath and pushed forward, "maybe I don't want to do magic much."

Harry thought hard, and didn't say anything until he was sure Neville had finished. He stayed as neutral as he could. "If you don't need to talk to them, why did you tell me?"

Neville spared considerable effort to look him in the eye. "I wanted you to understand.

"And there was one more thing I wanted to tell you."

Harry waited. He was uncertain how he was going to feel about what came next, given how their last conversations this honest had gone.

"I like you. As more than a friend."

Harry lost control of his face.

"I like being your friend"(here, whatever he saw on Harry's face seemed to disappoint him) "and I know you don't feel the same way-"

Harry had spent the past year hanging out with Neville over petty grudges and a crush he was never going to disclose. Seeing Neville get down on himself again because Harry had been a coward was the last straw. He steadied Neville's face with one hand and pressed their lips together.

It was a small kiss, but once there Harry found he didn't want to leave. He didn't want to pull back and find out what Neville thought of him for hiding his feelings then pushing them, or think about his responsibilities, or go back to being one body instead of two.

Then a hand was on his neck, inviting him, and all he had to think about was what they were trying to do.