Written for QLFC Season 10, Round 7
Wigtown Wanderers, Beater 1
Prompt: Fluff — Game Night/Weekly Tradition
Additional Prompts: (object) glass bottle; (setting) a dormitory
Word Count: 1951
TW: description of kissing
Author's Note: Title and concept inspired by "Late Bloomer" by the Secret Sisters—if you aren't familiar with them, please do yourself a solid and check out their album Saturn Return. It's one of my personal favorites. Hope you enjoy!
Late Bloomer
As a rule, Neville avoided the eighth year common room on Friday nights.
When a good number of students from his year returned to Hogwarts after the war—for their "eighth year" as they were calling it—McGonagall was at a loss for where to put them. There wasn't enough room for all the seventh and eighth year students in the seventh year dormitories, and it also wasn't fair to divide up the eighth years and place them with the younger years wherever there was room.
The semi-sentient magic of Hogwarts provided an easy solution. In one of the rebuilt sections of the seventh floor, a large common room with two sets of dormitories appeared—it was the perfect size for the returning eighth year students.
The forced proximity created more house unity than anyone could have imagined. One Friday a couple weeks into the term, Dean and Hermione put together a board game night for everyone, and it was a huge hit with all of their dormmates. When both Draco and Ron (who never agreed on anything) requested that it happen again the next week, a tradition was born. Neville really enjoyed the first few times. It was great to actually get to feel and act like a teenager with his friends for once.
But as all traditions are wont to do, the game night changed over time. Alcohol was added, then more risque games like Never Have I Ever, Truth or Dare, and a modified version of spin the bottle (courtesy of Blaise Zabini, of course). Even though he was more confident than he once was, Neville hadn't joined in for over a month. He preferred to slip in and watch quietly as his friends and once-enemies enjoyed making fools of themselves.
In order to avoid getting roped into game night tonight, Neville had planned on going straight to the library after dinner to work on his Charms essay. Unfortunately, when he got to the library, he realized he'd brought the wrong set of notes.
"Don't let them see me," Neville muttered under his breath as he snuck back through the door to the eighth year common room.
Of course Harry clocked him right away. "Neville!" he called. "Come join us! You haven't been at game night in weeks."
Neville shook his head. "I think I'll pass, mate, but thanks."
"Please, Neville. It'll be fun," Luna urged. She was one of the few seventh years with a standing invitation to game night, and when she came, she always tried to get more people involved.
"I really need to get started on that Charms essay," he hedged.
Ron waved him over. "Come on, Nev. I promise we'll keep it pretty tame tonight. We've all got to write that essay this weekend. Everyone except Hermione, of course," he said, eyeing her hopefully.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not a chance, Ron."
Neville hadn't realized how much he missed the lightness he felt when he was with his friends like this. In spite of himself, Neville felt his feet carry him toward the people gathered around a coffee table in front of the fire. "Just for a little while…"
The group cheered as he sank onto his favorite couch.
"Wicked," Justin Finch-Fletchley said as he pulled a small glass bottle from his bag. "Spin the bottle next? Blaise's version, of course."
Everyone else in the group agreed to some extent—some happily, some with grumbling—but Neville felt the blood drain from his face. Spin the bottle? Of all the things to play… And it wasn't like he could leave right after sitting down. That would draw far too much attention.
Three rounds, he decided. He could sit through three rounds of this stupid game, and then he'd pretend to be hungry and run down to the kitchens.
As Justin placed the bottle on the table, Neville sat back on the sofa and prayed to any god that would listen that the bottle wouldn't land on him.
Neville watched as Justin and Luna disappeared up to the boys' dormitories for their allotted time. When they finished, Blaise Zabini and Susan Bones took their place.
Neville felt his hands gripping the arm of the sofa. He just had to make it through one more round.
When Blaise and Susan returned, Pansy Parkinson reached out and gave the glass bottle a quick spin. Neville felt time stand still as the mouth of the bottle slowly rolled to a stop facing him.
"Alright, Parkinson and Longbottom!" Blaise cried, rubbing his hands together. "Get on up there. You've got seven minutes, so make them count!"
With Pansy on his heels, Neville tried not to seem nervous as he walked up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. He wiped a hand across his forehead (definitely sweating) and cringed as Pansy slammed the door shut behind her. When he whipped out his wand and cast silencing and imperturbable charms on the door, Pansy raised an eyebrow.
"I didn't have you figured for that type of guy," she said in surprise.
"Oh, I'm not," Neville replied, his voice shaking ever so slightly. "I just don't want anyone down there to get curious and use an Extendable Ear or something."
Pansy shrugged. "Knowing that lot, it was probably a good move."
As she took a step toward him and raised her arms to embrace him, Neville stepped back out of her reach.
"I'm not, uh, you see, it's, um," Nevilled stammered, avoiding her gaze.
"Absolutely pathetic." Pansy put her fists on her hips and glared at him. "Too good to kiss the 'Death Eater spawn', huh?"
Neville's eyes widened like saucers. "That's not it at all! It's nothing to do with you, not really. And you're not a 'Death Eater spawn' or whatever."
Undistracted by his reassurance, Pansy crossed her arms over her chest expectantly.
Neville sank down onto one of the beds, buried his face in his hands, and sighed. "This is so embarrassing."
With a huff, Pansy crossed the room and sat down beside him. "Whatever it is, it can't be that bad, Longbottom. I don't care if you've got weird teeth or something. You're acting like this is your first kiss."
Neville groaned and flopped backward onto the bed.
"Oh," Pansy murmured.
"Yeah," Neville said, throwing an arm across his face. "I've never kissed anyone. There, I said it. You can run back down there and tell everyone how pathetic I am now. I'm just going to stay here and try to disappear into the floor."
"Don't be ridiculous," Pansy snapped, pulling him back to a seated position. "I was just surprised. You were kind of a late bloomer, sure, but you were the big man on campus last year. Then you killed the snake—thanks again for that—and I just figured you had girls falling all over you at this point."
Neville snorted. "'Late bloomer' is putting it lightly. I don't think any girl other than Luna and Ginny, who are basically my sisters, even realized I existed until last year. And honestly, I was a little busy dealing with the Carrows and the real junior Death Eaters like Crabbe and Goyle. I didn't have much time for dating and girls."
"And this year?" Pansy prompted.
It was Neville's turn to shrug. "I just haven't found anyone I've been interested in kissing."
"It's not like you're asking them to marry you," Pansy said with a small smile. "It's just a kiss."
"I know that," Neville said, ducking his head to hide his blush. "But I've always had this stupid idea that my first kiss would be with someone I actually cared about. Someone I had feelings for. I don't want to kiss some random person just because a little glass bottle pointed at them."
Pansy's smile bloomed across her face. "That's not stupid. It's actually kind of romantic. I can respect that, even if I don't personally feel that way."
Neville's gaze snapped to meet hers. "Really?"
"Of course," Pansy replied. "After the war—and honestly during it, too—I realized there will always be people who are different from me and have different opinions and ways of living, and I know now that's a good thing. Let's face it, the world could only handle one of me anyway."
"Right you are," Neville said with a chuckle. "Thanks for not giving me hell about this."
"Don't mention it," Pansy replied, fixing him with a faux glare. "I mean it. It would ruin my reputation, and I've put a lot of work into it."
"Not a word," Neville promised. "How much time do we have left before they come up here?"
Pansy looked at her watch and grimaced. "Just a few minutes."
"Okay, okay." Neville jumped up and started pacing. "What do we do? They're all expecting us to come out of here looking…"
"Thoroughly mussed?" Pansy supplied.
Neville scrubbed a hand down his face. "Yep. Don't know what we're going to do about that."
"Well, we've got a couple of options," Pansy said.
Neville looked back at her, brow furrowed.
"We could mess up our hair and clothes and use a couple charms to try to make it look like we snogged," she offered. "Or, if you can trust me, we could go down there just as we are. You wouldn't have to say a word."
Neville studied her for a moment. He'd already trusted her with a secret he hadn't told anyone else. Pansy had been surprisingly cool with not snogging him, and she hadn't even teased him about having never kissed anyone. In fact, she hadn't said a single negative word about it. Maybe he could trust her with this, too.
"Are you going to lie to them?" Neville asked. "I'm absolute shit at lying."
"Me? Lie?" Pansy gave him her best innocent look and put a hand on her chest. "I would never. I'd much rather subtly imply a few things and let them draw their own conclusions."
The corner of Neville's mouth quirked up. "And I won't have to say anything?"
There was a devious glint in Pansy's eye as she said, "Leave everything to me."
Neville suddenly felt someone butting up against the imperturbable charm. When he canceled it and the silencing charm, a loud rap at the door echoed through the dormitory.
"Alright you two," Blaise crowed, "time to come out!"
Pansy beat Neville to the door and threw it open.
"Already?" she asked cheekily, smoothing her hands over her skirt. "I guess time really does fly."
As she flounced past him, Blaise turned to look at Neville in disbelief. Neville quickly ducked his head and strode past Blaise, too, making a beeline for his favorite couch in the common room.
"Pansy, you look rather… unruffled," Ginny observed as Neville was sinking into the cushions.
"Oh, please," Pansy scoffed. "As if I ever would. I'd be glad to teach you a few charms so you and whoever you're sneaking into broom closets with don't look so… disheveled next time."
Ginny grinned and shook her head. "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't mind the 'thoroughly snogged' look myself."
"If you must," Pansy said with a roll of her eyes. Then she gestured back to the glass bottle on the table. "I believe it's your turn now, Thomas."
The rest of the group turned back to the glass bottle on the coffee table as Dean prepared to take his turn. From across the room, Pansy caught Neville's eye for half a second and gave him a subtle wink.
Neville kept his grin to himself. Herbology had taught him that all things bloom in good time. It seemed the old adage was true for things other than plants—friendships, secrets, and people, too.