Chapter 13: The Many Meanings of Hand Holding

July 30th, 2007

Today was the big day. Butterflies fluttered in the empty spaces of Bella's stomach. It was Neville's birthday, and to say she felt nervous was an understatement.

Clutching the tiny parcels in her hand, she made her way down to the Greenhouses after breakfast, her heart rate increasing with each step.

She found him in last greenhouse on his knees, pulling on a particularly deep root. His robes were nowhere to be found, and his shirt and slacks were caked with dust and dirt, but the sight made Bella's nervous heartbeat slow to a deep, pulsing thrum. The sleeves of his button down shirt were rolled past his elbows, and she could see every muscle in his forearms contract as he tugged against the root.

"Everything alright, Bella?" He looked up at that moment, catching her obvious ogling, and she looked down to quickly hide the deep flush of her cheeks.

"Oh, y-yeah, I just wanted to give you these." She set the parcels on a bench and stumbled toward the door. She kept thinking about the muscles, and sweat, and heat of the greenhouse...a shivery exhale escaped her lips. She needed to get out of there as soon as possible. "So, you can just open it when you're not busy. Happy Birthday."

She flew from the door as fast as she could possibly manage and was almost past the first-year Greenhouses when she heard him call.

"Are you going to make me open these all alone?"

Dang. There was no leaving now. She turned and slowly walked toward him, where he held the two parcels, looking amused.

"How did you even know? Did McGonagall tell you?"

His perfect smile made it difficult to remember the answer, or her own name. "I, uh, noticed it in a book when you found me in the library a couple weeks ago, and I wanted to get you something..." She felt her entire face go red, and she looked down in embarrassment.

"That means a lot, Bella." He opened the first package and smirked. "Isabelia. I've never seen flowers like these."

"Yeah, They're from South America, and it's almost my name, so...you know."

Neville laughed warmly, "It's brilliant. I'll think of you every time I see them."

Bella felt her pulse thump unsteadily at his reply, and she had to make sure to breathe as he opened the second gift.

The crystal lion glittered beneath the papery wrappings, and shards of light cast themselves along the windows where they stood. Neville said nothing, simply turning the tiny creature around in his hands.

Unsure of the silence, Bella felt the urge to explain herself out of awkwardness. "I know you're a Gryffindor, and when I saw this I thought of you pulling Gryffindor's sword out of the Sorting Hat. If it's too cheesy, I can exchange—"

"It's not, Bella." He peered up with an intense blaze in his eyes, and whatever she'd been saying got lost in the fire. "You put a lot of thought into these gifts. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she breathed. Neville had an indecipherable expression on his face. He half-smiled, and before she could blink he brought his lips to her cheek.

He lingered there, and Bella became keenly aware how close he was to her lips. All she had to do was tilt to the left...

Clearing his throat, Neville pulled back swiftly, and Bella was left feeling dizzy from her apparently overactive imagination. "Yeah, so Happy Birthday. Have a great day; I'll just..." crawl into a hole and die.

If he was feeling any similar emotions, he didn't show it. Maybe it was one of the few things to look forward to with age. Twenty-seven certainly suited Neville.

"Would you like to come to lunch with me?"

Huh? "What?" Did she hear that right?

To her immense surprise, Neville turned his own slight shade of red. "I was just...wondering if you'd want to come to lunch with me."

Well, that's not what Bella was expecting. "Y-yes, I'd love to."

His smile seemed to match the bright fragments around them. "Great. It's a date."

She couldn't help but match his grin. There was no way this date could be worse than the last one.

They'd been strolling down Diagon Alley nearly five minutes, but Bella couldn't stop thinking about her hands. She wanted to feel the warmth of Neville's hand around her fingertips, but she didn't know all the ins and outs of wizarding courtship. What if holding hands meant something different in the wizarding world? What if Neville didn't want to hold her hand regardless? The flurry of thoughts were bouncing around in her brain with such ferocity that she sensed an impending migraine.

"The restaurant's just 'round the end past the Quidditch supply store."

Neville turned to Bella with a suave grin that made her blush. It was enough at least to postpone her headache. She was so concerned with not getting lost and the potential of hand-holding that she almost missed it...

"Bella."

The sound was faint amongst the bustling witches and wizards, but that voice – caressing her name like the sweetest note from the most delicate melody – was one she was unlikely to forget.

"Bella."

She stopped abruptly beside Neville, daring to lift her eyes, and just ahead, without cause, rhyme, or reason, stood Edward Cullen.

His mouth fell into her favorite crooked grin, but the rest of him seemed off. His eyes, nearly black, betrayed a hint of desperation. The dark circles beneath them had become more pronounced, possibly due in part to the pallor of his skin. Once a mysterious pale, his skin now seemed almost completely white, like an ivory stone covered in layers of marbled snow and ice.

Neville had also spotted Edward, but he interpreted the unstable looking vampire's countenance much differently. His drew his wand before she could even blink, and he looked ready to strike. "What do you want with Bella?"

Without so much as turning his gaze to acknowledge the wizard he answered softly. "I want her to come home."

Feelings Bella had buried deeply away came clawing back to the surface. She remembered the anguish and torment she'd suffered in the months following his departure – the echo of the hole he'd left in her chest throbbing inside as she relived the fear of Victoria's unrelenting attacks.

She saw Jacob's face in her mind, along with the rest of the Quileute tribe, empty and despairing, robbed of the joy of their eventual victory by the deaths of their loved ones.

A new emotion kindled within her. Edward had left them unprotected. He abandoned her, taking everything he'd ever given her and leaving only haunting memories and the abyss of shattered soul. Anger festered in Bella's veins. Rage effervesced in her limbs. Edward had broken her...but he would never break her again.

"Do you know this vampire, Bella?" Neville motioned toward her former love, and it was enough to distract her for a moment from the unquenchable fire in her mind.

"I did. Once," she said coolly, "but I wouldn't worry about his kind; they're...easily distracted." She paraphrased the heart-breaking words he had once spoken to her, eyes reflecting every ounce of resentment and betrayal, never leaving Edward's blackened gaze. "Of course my memory is no more than a sieve. We'll go on with our lives, and it will be...as if he never existed."

The vampire's expression crumbled. "Bella, please."

Neville turned to Bella with a hesitant expression. "Do you want me to stay?"

She wrenched her gaze from Edward's tortured visage to Neville's unwavering calm, and she knew there was no contest.

More than Edward.

More than Jacob.

More than anyone.

"Yes. I want you to stay."

"Bella," Edward called out softly. "Charlie's worried about you."

This brought Bella's focus back to Edward like a slingshot. "How do know anything about Charlie? Have you been to Forks?"

"Alice has been checking up on him, since she saw you in her vision. She only stopped after running into that pack of dogs."

"Don't call them that." Her insides burned. The werewolves had helped her feel whole again, until...

"We had no idea what Victoria had planned, Bella. No idea that she would come back for you."

"Me?" she shrieked angrily. "Who cares about me! Seth and Embry are dead because of me. That pack of dogs you hate so much saved my life over and over again, and they sacrificed themselves to take care of your mess."

"I can't tell you how sorry I am, Bella, but please come home. Your father needs you."

"You...have no right," Bella was shaking, "to tell me what anyone in my family needs."

"I'm sorry, Bella." He seemed to realize he'd have to try another angle. "I know I don't have the right to tell you what to do with your life. But Bella, these wizards are dangerous. They have magic that can torture or even kill someone instantly. They have potions and enchantments that can control you. You can't begin to imagine the danger you're in by staying with these people."

"Can't I?" Bella held her wand out, pointing it at Edward. She had no idea if she was even capable of offensive spells, but she was too angry to care.

"You're a witch?" Edward looked more broken than she'd ever seen him before.

"Bella," Neville murmured gently beside her. He took her other hand in his, and Edward's head suddenly snapped in his direction with narrowed eyes and a menacing expression.

Oh no. Bella realized with horror that Edward was probably reading Neville's thoughts. "Neville, he's a mind reader! Use Occlumency or something!"

"I...I'm not a very good Occlumens, Bella."

"Then get us out of here!" she panicked.

The last thing Bella saw was Edward's look of pained disbelief as they vanished with a pop.

When they made it to the forest beside Hogsmeade all of the emotions Bella had been holding back came crashing down, and she sank to the grass, giving in to the chaos of her thoughts.

"I'm sorry," she inhaled dizzily, "I'm so sorry for ruining your birthday."

"Stop being irrational." He pulled her up from the grass and into his arms. "So you have a history with a vampire...that's...surprising, I'll admit, but it doesn't have to ruin the rest of the day. It's going to be alright."

Bella leaned into Neville, matching his steady breaths until she was sure she wouldn't faint or collapse, or something else ridiculously melodramatic. "I dated him when I was seventeen. But he ended things after I got a stupid paper cut, and his brother tried to...well, you can probably guess. After that happened he said he didn't want me anymore, and I never saw him again," she sniffed, trying to hold back unnecessary tears. "It's been almost two years."

Neville drew back, deep in thought. "Seeing how he looked now, I think he regret what he said back then." He took Bella's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I know it's hard to see faces from your past, but I am here if you need me."

"Thanks," she whispered, grasping Neville's hand tightly. Then she added with a slight grin, "I do still need lunch."

He laughed and led her into the village, still holding her hand in plain sight of every onlooking witch or wizard. "Then, Isabella Swan, lunch is what you will get."

Somehow she knew, no matter what she needed, Neville would be there to help.