Near to You

Challenge Number and Letter: 3A
Word Count: 4264
http:// community. livejournal. com/themomms/

A/N: I suppose I didn't account for year facts past our current year. Hm. I don't expect my life on earth to last to 4264, so I don't really care. The fourth millenium BC marks the beginning of the Bronze Age...

A/N 2: Inspired by the song "Near to You" by A Fine Frenzy. My first Hannah/Neville. I'm proud of it, but please, make me not proud. I need to find bad things in it. Is it OOC? Too sweet? Too cute? Please, give me feedback.

Lyrics at the end for comparison with the story. The song is lovely. I highly recommend it and the album "One Cell in the Sea".

-----

Ernie MacMillan and I were the perfect couple. If you were on the outside. We were both Hufflepuff prefects who had good grades, good personalities, and took care of the people in their House. Our ambition was widely known. That was from the outside.

They didn't hear the way Ernie sighed when he took my hand or kissed me in public. They didn't hear Ernie tell me I needed to have more focus on my future. They didn't hear me tell Ernie I loved him. And they certainly didn't hear his response.

"Thanks."

I thought I had just surprised him. Until we were alone in the Common Room. Sitting close by the fire, our fingers entwined, he kissed me sweetly, his lips against mine with a special force that could only belong to Ernie. As they did when I was near Ernie, my feelings welled up inside of me. My stomach was in knots as I said quietly, "I love you."

He released my hands as if they were suddenly burning hot. "I'm sorry?" he asked.

"I—I love you."

"Oh." His face showed a certain wariness.

"'Oh'?" I asked, leaning away. "After three years. That's it." The words held no contempt, no anger. They were simply my thoughts. Thoughts like those I had shared with him willingly. These made me feel like someone had tried to cut out my lungs with a butter knife.

"Hannah—" Ernie began. "I—I—" He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

I nodded, feeling numbness fill me up. "It's—it's fine, Ernie." I stood and began to walk away. "You're fine."

---

We kept the façade for a while longer, through Valentine's day—on which I received a Valentine similar to those a young child might give all their friends— and Helga's birthday—highly celebrated and conducted by the prefects. But there was a distraction in his tone, his eyes. His heart was not in it. I knew it wasn't gratifying for him. As we said good night after patrols and he turned away, I grasped his wrist and he turned to face me. "Listen," I said. "I know you don't feel about me the way I feel about you." I paused, allowing him plenty of time to object, and then swallowed, continuing. "It's okay. You don't have to keep this up for me. You can do what you want."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're only with me for the outsiders, the public. I told you I love you, but you don't feel that way about me." I shook my head kindly, smiling gently at him. "This relationship was never about us for you. It's about everyone else." Ernie opened his mouth as if to argue, but could not seem to get any words out. I continued, "You don't have to defend it. It was a good match, hypothetically. It just didn't work in practice."

He looked at me closely. "You aren't obligated to do this."

I smiled. "But I do. I just want you to be happy. Don't worry. I'll be fine." If only I could convince myself of that. "We can still be friends."

He nodded, acknowledging that I'd read his intentions correctly. "Colleagues, then." He looked at me again. "I'm deeply sorry."

I laughed a little. "It's fine. Really." I kissed him on the cheek, savoring the sensation. I was sure it would be the last time my lips touched him. "See you around."

"Yes. I shall see you," he said as I went down a tunnel into my room.

I closed the door sedately and put my back to it, looking around at my sleeping roommates. I slid to the floor, my eyes filling with tears. An emptiness built steadily in my chest, aching as the tears fell; each one a drop of my heart being washed away. The pieces of me falling apart.

---

My final year was going to be Hell. Pure unadulterated Hell.

Students cursed by teachers, not even pulled out of sight. The good teachers at the school silenced for fear of being cursed by the others. McGonagall, the strong woman that had always stood for goodness, afraid to do anything. But what was worse was that I had none to call my friends. I had none that were close to me. None that would comfort me from the horrors.

My only respite was the weekly DA meetings. Harry hadn't come back for his seventh year. Neville Longbottom had taken up the cause, knowing that we would need the training. He lead us through Defense and taught us what we would need to live through the war. He knew to move the room in which we met often, not wanting to attract attention to the group. He was a good teacher; he understood when a member didn't get it immediately. I enjoyed learning from him. And strangely, I knew, had I the chance, that I would enjoy his company.

---

As I left one Friday, my bottom of my bag ripped, spilling its contents onto the floor. I crouched down to pick up my things and I saw Luna Lovegood standing with Neville. I didn't know her well. All I knew about her was that she was dotty, a Ravenclaw, and seemed to spend a lot of her time with the DA instructor. She and Neville were assumed to be together. They were conversing closely now, whispering though there was no one else in the room that they could see. I was crouched behind a desk. Perhaps they heard me getting my things.

"Thanks, Nev!" Luna said cheerfully, kissing him on the cheek. She skipped away, looking down at me as she left. She took out her wand and repaired my bag. "Sorry about that! Hope you get all your things soon. Before the Nargles get them." The seriousness with which she said the words was sobering. I couldn't laugh at her. She gamboled away, leaving me in silence. I turned back to my task and found Neville's face close to mine. I reeled back, falling on my arse against the cold stone floor, letting out a little exclamation of pain.

"Sorry!" Neville exclaimed. "I didn't mean to startle you!"

I got onto my knees without elegance. "Oh, it's alright. I'm very clumsy. I would've done it eventually without your help anyway." I smiled encouragingly and the silence bothered me. "Thanks for the help. With the bag, I mean."

He smiled now, chuckling. "I understand clumsy. I'm exceptionally proficient at clumsy. It's no problem."

The vocabulary he used once again propelled me to silence. He continued to help pick up my belongings. Thinking of seeing them together, I asked, "Do you worry about Luna often?"

He looked at me curiously. "Luna? I suppose I worry about her, as my closest friend. But not excessively."

"Oh! I—I thought—because you're always—I assumed you were dating her."

He laughed and repeated, "Luna? No! She's—she's—" he paused, still laughing. "She's Luna! I've never really thought of her that way."

"Oh. Sorry."

"No, no. It's quite alright. You've made my day."

I smiled shyly at him and he smiled at me. My heart quickened. I looked down, to stare at my feet and remembered that we were still crouching. "Oh! I should go." I rapidly stood, my knees cracking with the speed. I hauled the bag over my shoulder and turned to leave.

"Do you worry about Ernie?" he asked, behind me.

I turned back to him. "Oh." I seemed to be saying that a lot. "No. I mean, it's no longer—" My eyes, against my will, filled with wetness I tried to keep at bay. "I'm no longer an issue for Ernie." My voice cracked on the final word, his name.

"Oh, dear. I'm—I'm mortified. I—"

"No, it's fine, Neville."

I turned back to leave and again I heard his voice: "No it's not. It hurts." With those words, the corralled dampness broke free. "May I ask what happened?"

I turned my head. "I knew he'd never love me back, and he did nothing to dissuade that notion when I said so."

He saw my tears and smiled sympathetically, coming quickly to my side. He accompanied me to my painting hole wordlessly. My brain was empty of reasons as to why. He couldn't like me. I wasn't pretty like some girls, or especially smart like Hermione Granger had been. Maybe he felt guilty for making me cry. That's it, I mused. It has to be.

At my portrait, he asked, "Next week, then?"

"Yes," I replied. "I'll see you then."

And with that, he turned and walked up the stairs. I watched him go.

---

As weeks rolled on, Neville and I spent our Fridays together. After class, we'd sit and talk in the classroom, chatting until the last possible moment. He'd walk me to my room every Friday night. He and Luna began to talk to me as we kept company on the grounds. I found that I enjoyed Luna as a person, Nargles and other mythical creatures disregarded. She and I became closer too.

But it was different with Neville. I knew I liked him much more than I should. He was—just Neville. In an entirely different way than Luna was just Luna. He was brilliant: sweet, gentle, a little clumsy, a lot kind, and not at all like Ernie. It surprised me how much the two differed. Ernie was harder, cooler, pompous. He walked with a confident stride and talked with a loaded tongue.

Neville didn't use his flowery linguistics after that first night. I never questioned it aloud, but it did strike me as peculiar.

But despite the fact that Neville was nothing like him—and I spent most of my free time with Neville—I couldn't forget Ernie. I couldn't—get over him, for lack of a better phrase. He had been my first love, the first person I might've been willing to give my life to. And he had scarred me, irrevocably changed me. Now, I had to struggle to be someone without him.

---

By Christmas, Neville had consumed my thoughts, slowly eating away at the rest, even Ernie. Even the old flame was in the back of my mind. And yet, he wouldn't abandon his position.

As I contemplated this the last Friday before the holidays, Neville—as always, walking me back from the meeting—stopped dead and whispered, "Hide Hannah. Hide!" The last was a hiss.

I ducked into a nook in the wall, hidden from the outside.

"Longbottom."

The voice pronounced it as if "long" were three syllables. The voice I hated. Alecto Carrow.

"Longbottom, what are you doing out of your Common Room?"

He stood straighter. "I was taking a stroll, professor."

She looked at him sharply. "Don't give me tongue, boy. It is past curfew."

Neville looked at his watch. "I have 8:55, professor."

Carrow gave him another sharp look. "It doesn't matter what time you have, Longbottom. What your watch says is irrelevant. You are out past curfew."

"I am sorry, professor. I was unaware of the time."

She mocked him. "I was unaware of the time. Well, now, you'll have to be punished."

Hannah saw him reach for his wand carefully. Carrow did not see this.

"Expelliarmus!" Neville shouted, disarming the witch and throwing her backwards and knocking the air out of her.

"You'll pay for that."

This voice came from behind Neville.

"You'll pay for that the old fashioned way." Amycus took Neville's wand easily and kicked his legs out from under him. I wished to scream and fight them both. Anything to stop his pain. But I was frozen in fear. Amycus kicked Neville in the gut, the arms, the chest, while Alecto kicked him in the back and legs, anywhere that wouldn't knock him out. Then Amycus pulled out his wand. "Crucio!"

Neville shouted and I had to shove my fists into my mouth to stop from crying out. Neville.

Alecto shrieked with laughter and kicked Neville in the face. He whimpered. She repeated the action until he made no sound and no movement when they kicked him, believing him unconscious. The Carrows shared a look and walked away chuckling, smug about their win. As soon as their voices died out, I emerged from the nook, and fell to my knees beside his unconscious body. "Neville," I whimpered, weak. He barely opened his eyes and breathed, "Hannah." The sound brought tears to my eyes. His voice was full of relief. "You're alright."

"I'm alright?" I asked, shrilly. "I think you're the one we should be worried about." I looked up. We were closer to my Common Room, the second floor, but I feared moving him. "I'll take you to Hufflepuff. I'll take care of you there. I can put you on a couch and clean your cuts and mend your bruises and heal you and—" I broke off suddenly. He had squeezed my hand.

It was then that I realized I was holding his hand. I did a quick body check. My other hand was on his chest and my face was very close to his. Close enough that I felt his rattling breath on my face.

"Come on," I said, pulling away and helping him gingerly to his feet. He put his weight on me as I wrapped my arms around his waist to help him hobble down the stairs. He gasped for breath. One of his ribs was definitely broken. I thought briefly about his symptoms until I knew we were close. We finally reached the portrait and I said, "Python Blossoms." The hole opened and I helped him to a couch near the fire. No one said anything. In fact, most looked away. They had all seen the scene before. They didn't want to see the victims.

Silently, I mended his cuts and bruises and two broken ribs. "You planning to be a Healer?" he rasped.

"I considered it. I don't know." I covered him with a blanket and was again close to his face. "How do you feel?"

"Like Hell."

I laughed quietly. "That's better than I expected."

He laughed too. I was glad for that. "Get some rest, Neville. You need it."

"Yes, ma'am." He closed his eyes. "Goodnight, Hannah."

"Goodnight, Neville."

He soon fell into a peaceful sleep. I slept on the floor by his side. And for the first dream in months, I didn't dream of Ernie.

---

That was the first time I healed him, but it certainly wasn't the last. His beatings happened more frequently as time went on, happening not just for curfew, but for fighting the Unforgivable Curses and other atrocities. We became closer, a tighter-knit pair than we ever were. But this had its disadvantages too. I was falling for him. I was falling for him, but I was damaged. Damaged by the stupid boy who never loved me.

I wanted so badly to let myself fall with Neville. He continued to take me to my painting, though I protested. I felt responsible for the beating that night. If he had not been accompanying me, he would have been in his room by curfew. I knew that if he had, I would have been alone and hurt, but I had an urge to protect him that overwhelmed reason. That February night was no different.

"Neville! I wish you wouldn't," I said, as he followed me out of the classroom. "Just go to bed."

"Hannah, I refuse to let you walk alone."

"I don't want—"

"I know you don't, but I refuse to let the same happen to you. So don't even bother."

I sighed deeply. "I can't help that I care. I have a bleeding heart where you're concerned." I blushed. I hadn't meant for that to come out.

"As do I for you." His face descended towards mine, questioning, and I closed the distance. His lips brushed back and forth across mine, rubbing them lightly. It made my stomach erupt in heat. My arms wrapped around his neck with little control from my brain. My fingers knotted in his hair, holding his face to mine. I didn't want to breathe or think or do anything except kiss him.

"A kiss today is a promise for tomorrow."

Ernie's voice had filled my head abruptly. I used my leverage in his hair to pull him away.

"I—" I gasped for air. "I can't do this, Neville."

He looked at me in surprise and hurt. "Why?"

"I'm so sorry."

He glimpsed the tears in my eyes and his face hardened. I looked away. "I'm not Ernie," he said stiffly.

"I know," I whispered.

"This isn't a political game with me."

The tears slipped off my face and onto the floor, my eyes still on the floor. "I know," I breathed.

He gripped my chin and pulled it up so I looked at his face. "I care about you." His voice was rough with emotion.

"I know," I said, tears falling faster at the sound. "It's just—" I paused, finding words. "He's still there."

He let go of my chin and placed his hand on my cheek. "I know. But I can't wait forever." He swallowed. "I really like you, Hannah. But I won't spend my time wondering if you're comparing me to him. I won't—I can't—" he broke off, shaking his head.

"I know."

He kissed my forehead. "I'll let you think. Get some sleep."

And I once again slipped into my dorm and onto the floor.

---

Thinking was harder for me than I thought it would be.

I hadn't realized how little time I was spending with the Hufflepuffs. I had nothing to say to them. I hadn't been keeping up with the couples or the drama. I'd been with Luna and Neville, in our own little world. But now, Neville was giving me space.

Letting me think.

I had to be alone to think apparently. He had to leave me alone to let me think. I traveled on auto-pilot, going to my classes without thinking or feeling. I barely concentrated at the DA meeting the next week and when I left, I hadn't expected to see Neville accompanying me. He walked beside me without speaking, without touching, without looking at me. This remoteness was not something I expected of Neville and the feeling that he was punishing himself too, keeping himself away, made tears come to my eyes. He was trying to ease himself off of my presence. He was pulling away.

When we reached the painting, he finally looked at me, watching me go in. I closed the door and went straight to bed, like every other night.

---

March came and so did Luna.

The next morning, she came to eat lunch with me. We were silent for a few minutes. Then, as if she couldn't wait any longer, she asked, "What happened?"

"I'm sorry?" I asked, bewildered.

"Why can't we talk anymore? Neville said we had to let you alone. Do you not like us?"

"No!" I exclaimed. "No! I love you guys. And you don't have to leave me alone." I was suddenly angry. Was he going to take her away too?

"Oh. Well, I been trying to weasel the truth out of him all week, but he's wound up tighter than a Snorkack in the snow!"

"I imagine that's pretty wound up." I took a deep breath. "I li—I love Neville. You know that, right?"

She looked at me with her head cocked to the side. "Well, obviously. And he loves you too."

"Right. Well, remember I used to be with Ernie?"

"Yes."

"I loved him too. But he didn't love me."

"Oh." She was quiet for a long moment. "What's that got to do with Neville?"

I took a deep breath. "I can't—it's hard—" I tried to think of the words. "Sometimes, you want to do things more than you know you should. You want to scream a little too loud. You want to scald yourself a little too hot. You want to scare someone a little too much. But sometimes, unwillingly, you do things more than you should. You fall in love a little too deep. You fear a little too much. You free yourself a little too far. And it's that much harder to get yourself back to where you used to be. That's what it was like with Ernie. He took a piece of me away. And I want so badly to give that piece to Neville, but I don't have it."

She nodded deeply, contemplatively. "I see." We were silent for a minute or so. Then she looked up at me. "Why don't you take that piece back?"

"No. Luna, it's not—" I stopped. Take the piece back? Was it that simple?

"You know," she said conversationally. "Neville has liked you for a long time. He really wants that piece, too."

"A long time?"

"Neville doesn't use long words when he can say it easily, but he saw you with Ernie. Ernie is verbose; he knows how to talk. Neville assumed you liked that. He tried to learn them, with my help, to impress you. I tried to tell him it wouldn't make a difference, but—"

I had stopped listening. …to impress you… To impress me? He wanted to impress me? In a flash, understood why he'd stopped using them. "It hurts." He'd stopped because it hurt me. He'd stopped because he cared.

He'd stopped because he loved me.

I looked around for someone, a face I hadn't searched for in a long time.

---

I took Ernie's hand and led him out of the Great Hall, feeling Luna's smiling eyes on me.

"What—where—why—" he spluttered as I dragged him up the stairs. Two flights later, I pulled him down a hall and into an empty classroom. "Hannah, what—"

"You don't love me."

His eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"You don't love me."

"No…" he said, bewildered.

"And you'll never love me."

"Quite possibly," he affirmed.

"I loved you, and you took a piece of me away when I realized you didn't feel the same. I'm taking that piece back. I want to give it to someone else."

"Hannah—"

"I don't want to love you anymore, Ernie. I'm done loving you. I'm done feeling hurt and rejected. I'm done."

"Hannah, what are you—"

And then I cut him off, lifting onto my toes and pressing my lips to his. His arms wrapped around my waist as he pressed forcefully. My pulse did not race. My blood did not boil. My stomach was not a pit of fire. He tried to insert his tongue and I pushed away with my hands on his chest. I had an almost overwhelming urge to slap him. This boy had, not one minute before, told me he would never love me. Who does that? How dare he? How dare he?

Then I realized something that made me take another step back:

Neville would never have done that. Neville wouldn't disrespect me like that. Neville was a gentleman. Ernie was not Neville.

"You're Ernie," I said, smiling.

"Yes…" he said, eyebrows furrowing.

"I don't love you." I grinned, the realization hitting me with full force. "I don't love you."

"But—but—"

I began to walk away, and then I had a thought. "By the way, I want so badly to slap you for what you just attempted. But sooner or later, it would get around. Neville would feel the need to hurt you."

Ernie raised an accusing finger. "So you do—"

"I would hate for that to be on Neville's conscious. And record." I began to turn away and then I smiled. "And just so you know, a kiss today is not a promise for tomorrow."

I left Ernie open-mouthed and I knew he was watching me walk away.

---

I waited until the following Friday to talk to Neville. I hated to do it, to wait. I wanted to tell him immediately, but I had to think some more. I had to think of how to tell him that I wanted him. Only him. And I had to get him alone.

When the meeting finally ended, and Luna left—promising to us in the morning, smiling serenely— Neville looked at me carefully.

"I'm done thinking," I told him quietly.

"So you've made a decision."

"Yes." I took a deep breath and I was sure I heard Neville doing the same. "You're not Ernie."

His eyes widened and then closed, as in resignation. "No. I'm not."

"You're not verbose or pompous. You aren't tall. You aren't extremely ambitious. And you don't force me to be anything but myself." His eyes opened suddenly to stare at me. "You don't need me to know what I want to be for the rest of my life. You just want me. Just Hannah."

"So—" he started, making no attempt to finish the sentence. He exhaled slowly.

"So I'm better with you. I know I am. I don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life, but I know I'm better near to you."

He looked at me intently. "And…"

"And I love you, Neville Longbottom. Not Ernie MacMillan. You."

And as he kissed me hard with his gentle lips, I realized I did know what I want to be:

Neville's girl.

-----

So here are the lyrics:

He and I, had somethin' beautiful
But so dysfunctional, it couldn't last
Loved him so but I let him go
'Cause I knew he'd never love me back

Such pain as this
Shouldn't have to be experienced
I'm still reeling from the loss
Still a little bit delirious, yeah

Near to you, I am healin'
But it's takin' so long
'Cause though he's gone and you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yeah, I'm better near to you

Well, you and I, have somethin' different
And I'm enjoyin' it cautiously
I'm battle scarred, I am workin' oh so hard
To get back to who I used to be

He's disappearin'
Fadin' steadily
When I'm so close to bein' yours
Won't you stay with me, please?

'Cause near to you, I am healin'
But it is takin' so long
'Cause though he's gone and you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yet I'm better near to you
Yeah, I'm better near to you

I only know that I am better where you are
I only know that I am better where you are
I only know that I belong where you are

Near to you, I am healin'
But it's takin' so long
Though he's gone and you are wonderful
It's hard to move on

Near to you, I am healin'
But it's takin' so long
'Cause though he's gone and you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yeah, I'm better near to you
Yeah, I'm better near to you