Chapter 7:

"…but I was talking to Hermione before you came down and she told me that what happened to you wasn't an accident…"

The last part of Harry's sentence kept echoing in Neville's head. His heart began to pick up speed and he could feel his senses begin to heighten with panic. He was on edge and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to hide it.

Harry was already staring at him with that look. The look one gives someone else when they don't quite know what is going on or what to do or say and are a little set-off by the peculiar-ness of their behavior.

With each second that ticked by without a word, Neville's heart began to beat faster and faster, pounding against his chest, threatening to burst.

'Oh god, he knows…'

Neville stood up and began pacing around the common room. He could feel the panic beginning to set in. He could feel the panic coming on and taking hold of him.

'No, not now!'

His body started to feel heavy and he felt a weird tingling sensation in his head that ran all the way down to his toes. His throat began to close up and his breathing began to pick up. It got a little faster, a little deeper.

He began to feel dizzy.

Harry was beginning to catch on that something was not right and he watched the other boy with worried eyes. He stood up and began walking towards Neville.

"Neville…what's wrong?"

Neville didn't answer because he was finding it harder to breath. He tried to find something to focus on to take his mind off of what was happening.

"Neville?" Harry called again.

Although Harry was only a few inches away from Neville now, his voice sounded distant, as if he were shouting at him from across the common room.

A few more minutes passed and the overbearing fear that had draped itself over Neville had finally lifted and passed. Neville looked up to meet Harry's anxious gaze, his green eyes were searching Neville's brown ones for some kind of an answer.

Neville gave Harry the tiniest trace of a smile and shrugged.

"S-sorry…panic attack."

"Yeah, I've had those before…when I lived with the Dursley's mainly…so listen, what Hermione and I were talking about…" Harry paused and continued to observe the other boy, who now had sat down and placed his head in his hands. "I just want to know…if what she told me was true…"

Neville didn't answer so Harry pressed on.

"If something is bothering you, you can always talk to me, Hermione, Ron, Luna…" Harry stopped himself for a moment, "or Ginny…" he tried not to convey on his face what he felt inside at the sound of Ginny's name coming out of his mouth.

Harry sighed. He was getting nowhere.

"Whatever it is that you are going through, you don't have to go through it alone…you have all of us…"

"Harry," Neville finally spoke. "What all did Hermione say to you exactly?"

"Uhhh, just that she was worried about you…and of course that what happened to your arm wasn't an accident. She told me that she walked in on you-"

"She's right as usual."

"But, why Neville?"

"I don't know…" he mumbled, just like he had to Hermione.

The two teenage boys sat in silence. Neville was staring off into space, wearing the same blank expression he wore earlier when Harry first found him in the dungeon before detention. Harry was staring at Neville with a mixture of what looked to be pity, uncertainty and genuine concern.

"Look," began Harry hesitantly, "if you don't want to talk about this…it's fine. I'm not going to pressure you or force you to talk to me but are you going to be okay?"

Neville suddenly snapped out of his vacant stupor and brought his eyes to meet Harry's.

Neville opened his mouth to speak but instead, a small crackle escaped his throat. He was developing a serious case of dry mouth. He licked his lips and turned his gaze down to his hands.

"I'm sorry…" replied Harry.

Neville immediately looked up and narrowed his eyes curiously on the other boy.

"What for…?" he asked softly, suddenly finding his voice. "You haven't done anything Harry. I'm the one who is sorry…you know, for everything that I've ever done wrong around you. Oh, and of course detention with Snape-"

"No," interrupted Harry. "I'm sorry for letting you go on like this…this is my fault. I had no idea things were this bad for you. I should have paid more attention…"

"Harry," Neville started with a small chuckle, "what makes you think things are so bad for me and where in the world would you get the idea that anything involving me is your fault? You need to listen to your own advice and quit blaming yourself for the things that aren't your fault, the things that are far beyond your control. I refuse to become one of those things. You've been a good friend Harry…a great friend…but you can't save everyone…"

"But…Neville, I've known you for over 5 years! We've all been dorm mates for so long...me, you, Ron, Seamus, and Dean. I mean if not them then I should have at least known that you were feeling down. I should have sensed it…we all should have…"

"No." Neville stated quietly. "I didn't want anyone to sense anything. I was just fine with the way things were. I was dealing with things just fine…there was no way any of you should have known what was going on and even if there was, there would have been nothing you could have done to stop it…"

"But why…?"

"Why what?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at his formerly round-faced friend.

"Why wouldn't there have been anything any of us could have done to stop you from hurting yourself?"

Neville paused and thought about this for a moment.

"Because…in order for someone to stop doing something they have to want to stop…"

Harry let out a low sigh.

"So you really cut yourself then…?"

Neville cringed at how easily the word cut slid off of Harry's tongue, unlike Hermione who was extremely uncomfortable with the word in this context.

Neville said nothing at first but instead just stared hard at Harry. As if sizing him up to see whether or not he should confide in him about this or whether he should just try and play this off as nothing and get on with his life.

He knew he could trust Harry but something about Harry knowing this about him terrified him and made him feel naked. It was bad enough that Hermione already knew his secret and not only that but that she had actually caught him red handed. Just thinking back to that night was enough to make Neville want to vomit.

"Don't tell anyone…" Neville mumbled, staring down at the floor. "Please, just…don't tell anyone…" he repeated softly in a nearly inaudible whisper. Neville looked up at Harry with dark, pleading eyes.

Harry's eyebrows rose and for a split second his face went from being confused and concerned to slightly surprised. He already knew that Neville's injury wasn't an accident as Hermione had confirmed just a little bit ago but actually hearing Neville admit to this, having heard straight from his own mouth that this was true really set the whole reality of this situation into Harry's perception.

Neville Longbottom took all of his failures and frustrations and turned them inward towards himself where he would hold everything inside, only to release it all by cutting himself open; and the fact that he found comfort in this, rather than in those around him who cared about him made it all the more heartbreaking.

"I won't…" promised Harry.

Silence washed over the common room and the two Gryffindor boys didn't know what to do or say next.

"So…" Harry began slowly, "that one time…last year when Dean and I walked into the dorm and you- the blood…that wasn't from a bloody nose…was it?"

Neville felt his face grow hot.

"No…" he mumbled.

"Wow, I just can't believe you managed to hide this for so long…how long have you been cutting yourself?"

Neville cringed.

"Uhhh, for awhile…"

"How long is awhile?"

"Since I was 12."

The answer had easily rolled off of Neville's tongue this time unlike with Hermione. For some reason he felt more comfortable talking to Harry. With Hermione he had just felt like he was being interrogated which only caused him to become more of a wreck.

"Jeeze…" replied Harry, completely stunned. "Does your Gran know?"

"Well, not exactly. You see…there was a close call once, last summer actually. She walked into my room without knocking and began gathering up my laundry and questioned me about some bloodstains on a couple of my shirts…so I told her I had a bloody nose and she made a comment about how that was too much blood to be from a bloody nose…and she thought that I had accidentally hurt myself but was too afraid to tell her so she demanded that I take off my shirt so she could check me over. So, she…she saw some of the marks on me and I told her that fell into a Prickleshub plant out in the garden. I don't know if she believed me or not but she never made mention of it again…"

"Have you ever thought about telling her?"

"No. I never want her to know…which is why no one else can know…because if any of the Professors ever found out the first thing they would do is owl my Gran…and this would kill her…"

"Have you ever tried to stop?"

"No."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Neville suddenly found himself growing slightly annoyed with Harry's consistent questioning, which it was a rare occurrence for Neville to get annoyed with anyone, especially Harry.

"It's hard to explain…"

"Oh," replied Harry.

"I mean…it's not something I'm proud of or anything…"

"How did you start?"

Harry watched as another deep blush set in on the other boy's face and he quickly uttered an apology.

"I'm sorry how intrusive of me…you don't have to answer that…"

Neville stared into the fire for a few minutes, soaking in the silence. He then turned and looked Harry dead in the eye.

"The summer after our first year at Hogwarts was miserable…my Gran was on me every single day about gaining proper wizard techniques and strengthening my knowledge because she was so happy when we all discovered I wasn't a squib. So when I came home with less than satisfactory grades she was upset…saying that I might as well have been a squib since I wasn't much better at being a wizard. I tried so hard to make her happy but nothing I ever did was good enough. Then one night that summer we were visiting my parents at St. Mungo's and Gran was upset because the nurses were hounding her about looking into other possible living arrangements for them because the hospital needed to make room for other patients coming in…"

Neville paused and let out a sigh. He returned his gaze back to the fire and slightly hesitated before continuing.

"…and so after we got home Gran started drinking and sometimes when she would get a few drinks in her…she would tend to say things she didn't mean but she looked me right in the eye and said, 'Neville, do you not realize what your parents have sacrificed for you? Why have you failed to be more like them and live up to the Longbottom name rather than bring shame upon it? You need to be more aggressive and get your head out of that damn garden and into some books. Your grades this year were not high enough. You will not get anywhere in life with grades like those and that is a promise. It is times like these when I am glad your parents are unable to see their only son struggling with the most simple of things. They would be gravely disappointed in your lack of progress.'"

Neville paused and then continued.

"I remember she sat there…waiting for me to respond, waiting for me to nod in agreement but I didn't. I remember just walking up to my room and wanting to die. I just felt so stupid and like I was doomed to be a failure for the rest of my life. I don't think I could have ever gotten any lower than I was at that point. I mean any lower and I'd have been dead. I was so ashamed, so humiliated…and I felt so worthless. I remember not being angry at my Gran…but at my parents. I was angry at them for being the way they were, if they weren't insane I wouldn't be living with Gran. I remember just feeling so angry that I picked up the only picture I have of my parents and just threw it across my room. It broke of course, so I went over and began picking up the pieces of glass and I remember holding one…and for a split second I began to think about how stunning that shard of glass looked and I began to wonder how it would look and feel sliding across my skin…so I did it…and I felt better after doing it and that was that…"

Harry sat there and stared at his dorm mate in disbelief.

"Wow…" he finally spoke, "I don't know what to say…"

"That's alright," replied Neville, who was now closely examining his fingernails and chomping nervously away at them.

Harry could do nothing more than just stare at Neville in awe. Only about ten minutes ago he had looked like he was ten seconds from a nervous breakdown and now, strangely enough he looked…at ease.

Harry had never really noticed before but Neville was actually a pretty decent looking bloke. Neville's looks had always been undermined and underestimated in their previous years because of his awkward, geeky, clumsy and forgetful demeanor. Oh and unfortunately the fact that he had always been a bit chubby had most likely played a part in that as well.

Harry thought back to when he first met Neville over five years ago on the Hogwarts express. Neville had been the shy, scared and forgetful round-faced boy who had lost his toad. The boy who sat in front of Harry now was a far cry from that boy he first met on the train.

Neville was now very thin, in fact too thin. All traces of any extra pudge his frame held the year before had melted away and he was now left with gangly limbs and a long torso. He had also grown at least four or five inches and was now the same height as Ron and Dean.

His hair was a mess. It looked as if it hadn't been cut in ages. It was a long, curly heap that just lay unbrushed on his head. It was hanging in his eyes, which were barely visible. What Harry could see of his eyes though were dark and dead.

Harry thought that Neville was still attractive but that he just looked worn down. He could still see a glint of the round-faced boy he first met on the train, with his lonely dark eyes that looked as if they belonged to an abandoned puppy.

Harry had also never noticed that Neville had freckles all over his nose and cheeks along with a dimple in his chin. His eyes moved down from Neville's freckles to his lips. They were nice. Nice and plump and soft. Harry bet they were really soft.

Harry's eyes traveled down a bit further to Neville's exposed neck and saw that there was a small mole near his collarbone. Harry suddenly felt the urge to go over there and kiss all the way down Neville's neck.

Harry's heart skipped a beat and then began beating again with vengeance.

'Oh god…'

He shook his head and tried to think about something else, anything else.

Neville saw Harry watching him out of the corner of his eye and turned his eyes towards him.

"Harry?"

Harry's heart began to beat faster and his palms were sweating.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you looking at me like that…?"

"Sorry," mumbled Harry, "I was just daydreaming…"

"Oh…well, I say we'd better get to bed eh? 'Least for a couple hours…we have a long day ahead of us."

Harry nodded slowly as Neville stood up. He wanted to follow but he couldn't move.

"Are you coming, Harry?

"Yeah, you go on ahead…I'll be up in a minute…"

Neville nodded in return and then disappeared up the stairs.

Now it was Harry's turn to panic. He couldn't believe this was happening.

That night, Harry Potter discovered that he had feelings not for Ginny Weasley but instead, for Neville Longbottom.

---------------------------------

Author's Note: Eh? Eh? --nudges readers-- How'd I do? Bet you weren't expecting that to happen were you? Meh, who knows…maybe you were and maybe you weren't. I was trying hard to make it like this huge shocking, twist…meh, don't know if I fooled any of you but anyways...This fic has been on hiatus for awhile now and I literally just started to pick it up again so chapter 8 doesn't even exist yet, lol. Since it's summer and I have nothing better to do I will try to write chapter 8 and get it up for you a.s.a.p.! Anyways, thank you to everyone who has stuck with this fic! Keep reading and don't forget to read & review :)