For the Romantically Romantic Daily Writing Challenge on the Ministry of Magic Discord.
H.M.S. Heroes
— Harry and Neville —
Harry isn't very good at playing his part. When people ask how he did it—how he, just a boy, saved all of wizardkind—he shrugs and says he was fortunate to have friends by his side. He commends Ron's bravery and Hermione's intellect. He remembers those who've passed—telling stories of the Black brothers who defied all odds, quoting Dumbledore in his wisdom, and reminiscing about Fred.
And when they ask about what happened in those years—when they ask about what he did—he's honest.
"You used the Cruciatus curse?" Neville is looking at him, slack-jawed, with the latest Daily Prophet in his hands. "Successfully?"
Harry takes a gulp of his beer. His tone is measured when he responds, "Yeah. You knew that."
In the Prophet, he'd said it was necessary. That Amycus Carrow was a Death Eater and would have taken lives. He didn't say that, truthfully, he'd seen him spit at Professor McGonagall and seen red. When he'd cast the curse, he'd been angry. He hadn't been forward-thinking or calculating. He also didn't say that he felt no remorse.
"I didn't." Neville's eyes are searching. "It says you'd tried to cast it twice before."
"It's true." Harry stares determinedly at the table. "Neville, I don't want to talk about it."
Neville frowns. He puts the paper down on the table and gestures at it. "You talked about it to the Prophet. At length, apparently."
The air between them thickens. All at once, Harry can feel something shift between them. There's a break in their bind—the two boys in the Prophecy; the two boys unwanted at home; the two boys who'd lost their parents; the two boys who, at the end of it all, had fallen into each other for comfort. Something between them has snapped.
"Wouldn't you have tried it on Bellatrix?" Harry asks finally. "If you'd had the chance?"
"No." Neville's response is quick and sharp. "I'd have killed her. But not...not that."
"Neville..." Harry's voice is strained. "It wasn't like—"
"I think I should go."
"You haven't even finished your drink."
But Neville's already standing. And as he walks away, he doesn't look back.