The next morning, Harry awoke again to an owl tapping at the window in his dorm. This time, it was nearer to dawn, and the missive read 'Coming?' inquisitively. He was forced to rush through dressing, and raced through the castle faster than he had the morning previous. Even so, Snape was nearly to the dungeon entrance when he reached the Entrance Hall. That afternoon, Harry spent his free period in the Library, looking for an alarm spell. He eventually found one that would cause his wand to vibrate, rather than create lights or sounds that might wake his dorm mates. After having found it and tested it, Harry realized it was exactly like the spell the twins had used at the start of the summer, when they'd ambushed him on the platform. He added the casting of the spell to his nightly routine.
Without fail, he and Snape met every morning for over a month. Occasionally, they would even talk. Harry found out that Snape did not hate teaching as much as he projected in his classroom, and that the man slept less than even he did. They talked once or twice about their roles in the war, falling into the subject by accident but not shying from the topic when it came up. Harry discovered he quite liked hearing Snape talk, and made a point every few days to coax the man into some lengthy explanation about potions, or something equally long-winded, while hardly listening to a word of it.
With Halloween fast approaching, it was Neville Longbottom who unknowingly changed the game Harry was playing behind the backs of his friends. Harry had never noticed the looks of longing hazel eyes had sent his way, had in fact mistaken a few he had seen as looks of hunger or his usual nervousness. He never realized that Neville was, in fact, becoming infatuated with him. Until one day, he did.
The slightly taller boy, who had grown into his body nicely over the summer, approached Harry at breakfast a few days before the normally disastrous holiday, on the morning of their first trip to Hogsmeade. The nervous Gryffindor walked up to Harry, who was flanked by an empty seat on one side, and Hermione on the other, with his hands behind his back. It took a few moments for Harry to realize he was there.
"Hey, Neville," Harry said, taking notice of the boy standing beside the bench. "Talk about being late to the party. Sit down, I managed to save some bacon for you."
Neville did not sit, wavering slightly as their other friends turned to watch him a well. He cleared his throat several times before speaking.
"H-Harry, I wanted to ask…that is, if it's not too much trouble…W-would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"
Harry frowned, smiling in confusion. "Neville, I don't understand. I thought we'd all agreed to go together, as a group?" He looked at his other friends questioningly. Dean and Seamus nodded in agreement, but Ginny rolled her eyes and Hermione actually smacked her forehead. Harry turned back to Neville when the boy spoke again.
"N-no, I mean…I wanted you to go with me, if you, you know, wanted to."
Harry frowned now. "I'm afraid I still don't know what you mean." He jumped slightly as Neville brought his hands out from behind his back and shoved a vibrant, royal purple petunia nearly into his face. He stared at his least favorite flower as comprehension slowly dawned. "O-oh, oh…" He said, taking the dark flower. He looked up into the nervous, hopeful gaze of his friend as he realized he was being asked out on a date, and turned back to the flower contemplatively.
Should he accept? This was Neville, after all. They'd been friends since they were First Years, and this could end poorly. Still, there was no harm in it. A date, after all, was just that, and Neville was the sort not to take a rejection too badly, if the date didn't go well. But what if the date did go well? Harry was unattached, but he wasn't sure if he was ready for that to change. Then again, why not? He hadn't exactly had a ton of other viable offers, and Neville was nice enough. He was certainly handsome, now that he'd grown into his girth and dropped the excess. Without knowing why, Harry glanced surreptitiously up at the Head Table. Snape was reading a book and eating distractedly, paying the rest of the Great Hall no mind.
Harry turned back to Neville, who was still standing nervously beside him. He smiled. "If I say yes, will you sit down? You're making me nervous." Neville sat like a kicked dog, almost missing the bench.
"Sorry," The nervous boy mumbled, a deep blush suffusing his cheeks.
Harry sighed at the other Seventh Year endearingly. Why the hell not?
"Sure, Neville, I would love to go to Hogsmeade with you."
The grin that split across Neville's face was amazing, and it transformed his features remarkably, making his round face look as attractive as the rest of him. He leaned towards Harry, and Harry saw his intention immediately. He put a hand on the broad, thick chest, pushing him back slightly.
"We're not quite there," He said uncomfortably. The blush returned as Neville turned awkwardly on the bench to slide his long legs under the table. Harry looked at his other assembled friends. "You guys don't mind if Neville and I go to Hogsmeade separate from you, do you?"
His friends quickly dissented, grinning like loons.
For reasons Harry couldn't fathom, the boy beside him thanked him. Harry turned back to his breakfast, setting the flower aside and ignoring the grins on his friends' faces. A dark feeling he couldn't place stabbed at his chest, but he ignored that too. There was nothing wrong with a harmless date. It might even be fun.
-Break-
Harry was not having as much fun as he'd hoped. Neville had grabbed onto his hand at some point on the walk down from the school, and had yet to release it. On top of this, Harry was unpleasantly surprised to find that his friend of seven years was a nervous talker. His voice shook terribly as he regaled Harry with talk of his summer, and the plants he'd been able to study thanks to his grandmother's connections. Harry could hardly get a word in edgewise, and after walking up and down the streets of Hogsmeade for over an hour, waiting for a chance to ask where his date wanted to go, he finally resorted to leading the other boy around to the various shops he wanted to visit. Randomly, he would spot Snape in the street, as the man was chaperoning the trip, and would casually extract his hand from the sweaty, relentless grasp with a small pinprick of guilt. He thought perhaps it was shame that made him want to hide. Neville never seemed to notice, always re-instating the bothersome hand-holding after a short time.
After lunch, which they had spent with their other friends at The Three Broomsticks, where Neville had finally stopped talking, they were again wandering the streets. Harry still wanted to visit Honeyduke's, and the stationery shop, but had decided to walk off the heavy soup he'd enjoyed before attempting either. Neville was again talking, about what Harry didn't know, but stopped abruptly when they almost ran bodily into Malfoy and his cronies. The slightly taller boy stepped slightly behind Harry, and the Wizarding Savior squeezed the now-sweatier palm linked with his reassuringly. Malfoy noticed.
"On a date, Potter?" The Slytherin sneered.
Harry shrugged. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes."
The sneer deepened to disgust. "How pathetic are you? Famous Harry Potter, reduced to pity dates from guys not even worth the air they breathe. That's just pathetic." Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.
"You said that already," Harry pointed out calmly.
Malfoy's face screwed up in anger. "That's how pathetic it is, Scarhead. How does it feel to know the best you can get is a boy who can't even tie his own shoes without help?"
Harry shrugged again and mentally apologized to Pansy Parkinson, who was thankfully absent. "Feels a lot better than you, probably. Tell me, what's it like to know you can only get a date that your daddy paid for in advance?"
Malfoy's response was immediate. He drew his wand, as did his cronies, pointing it at the Gryffindor duo. Students in the street were stopping now to watch the exchange.
"Take that back!" Malfoy demanded.
"Now, that would be lying," Harry chimed patronizingly.
He saw the spell coming even before Malfoy had finished casting, and flicked his wand into his thankfully empty hand, silently casting a shield that would absorb it without risking any bystanders. The spell, one that would have caused a concussive blast had it struck its intended target, dissolved harmlessly into his shield. Before Malfoy could cast again, their new Defense professor stormed through the gathered crowd.
"Enough!" She stepped in-between the dueling wizards and rounded on the Slytherin. "Malfoy, you are to return the school immediately. I will discuss with your Head of House what your punishment should be."
The blonde gaped. "Potter started it!"
Harry scoffed, but Achesan wasn't fooled. "I saw who started it, even watched you intentionally move to intercept Mister Potter. School, now, and anymore lip will see you in detention for a week. You can take your back-up singers with you."
Malfoy glowered at the professor for a moment, but even he knew when to bow out gracefully. He stormed off with his friends trailing quickly. He looked thunderous, and the other students leapt out of his path. Achesan turned to Harry, who straightened. He would take whatever punishment she handed out, knowing he had earned it.
The stern but pretty witch smirked. "Nice wand work, Mister Potter. Where did you learn that shield? Not in my class, it's too advanced."
"No, Ma'am," Harry said, still waiting for a rebuff. "Personal study."
Achesan smiled approvingly. "Well done, then, for making the effort, and for staying calm while defending your friend. You'll be losing House points, though, for baiting your pugnacious foe. Next time, try just walking away."
Harry nodded, knowing he would never do any such thing. "Yes, Professor. I'll keep that in mind."
The professor gave a stiff nod of approval before turning and walking off through the dispersing crowd. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, glad there was at least one professor who saw his side of things. If it had been McGonagall, he'd have gotten a detention for even being involved, no matter what he'd said. If it had been Snape, there was no doubt that he would've gotten several detentions, and Malfoy would've gotten a medal. It didn't matter how amiably they spent their mornings, Snape was still the Head of Slytherin, and still severely biased towards his House.
Harry winced as Neville started chattering at him again, thanking him for his defense before starting back where he'd left off before the confrontation. Looking for anything to do that might shut his fellow Gryffindor up, he decided he would stop at Honeydukes before the stationery shop. He knew for a fact that the nervous boy had a monstrous sweet tooth that rivalled Ron's, and thought perhaps munching on licorice would put an end to the babbling flow. He headed off in that direction.