October 19th.
Thousands of faded colored books surround Neville and y/n as they study in the library, the dry and almost cracked leather flying, accompanied by the parchment, around their heads by madam Pinces' command; trying to redirect them to their correct spot in the warm color and feeling library. Neville and y/n's quills working fast and pages of their textbooks being flipped.
their busy eyes glued to the withered looking scribbles on textbooks as they carefully and quickly glance over the material on the yellowing and stained parchment, their eyes only ripping away from the paragraphs written to look at the other person, both longing for the comfort of one anothers' eye contact.
around them, scrawny fifth years rush around the, now busy, library to prepare for their O.W.L.S. Later in the year. Most of them sitting down at the prepared desks, quills set up with a quaint bottle of ink; ready for the nip to be dipped in the opaque liquid. All of the 5th years that aren't situated at a desk desperately looking around, searching as they almost break into a run hunting down the correct book. Nearly sweating from the vague description of the exams from the teachers- further sweating From older students messing with them; telling them they have to jump into the black lake and ring up some grindylows for Defense Against The Dark Arts.
Y/n turns a page in her charms book, pinching the page in with her fingertips so she can reference the words or to go back and read it once more. a smooth diagonal lip on the page as the edge reaches in, almost pointing to the text.
She carefully picks up her quill from its spot situated in between her notebook and Neville's workspace. her nails softly touching the staff of the writing utensil as she grips onto it, copying something down, she dips the nib of her quill into a little bottle of the dark, runny, black ink. Neville's eyes following her movements as she works; she bites her lip as she focuses intently on the article before her, the ink on the tip of her quill coming dangerously close to dripping on ancient textbook- her wand sitting on the desk, eagerly waiting for y/n to grab it and mutter a cleaning spell if she's most unfortunate to spill the said ink. Neville watches intently, his eyes completely ignoring the writing on his own study-work as he peeks at her through his eyelashes, his eyes peering back to his book when y/n moves a little too much- Neville scared she'll catch him staring.
Y/n ponders at her notes, leaning back to observe and read over her somewhat messy handwriting. looking at her textbook, she sighs before sighing deep from her chest and slumping her shoulders, scratching out her initial scribbles in her notes of the material on her textbook.
amidst her cogitating, She remembers when she was in potions class, with Professor Slughorn. he mentioned a Christmas party he was going to host on the twentieth of December- apparently it was tradition for whenever he was teaching at Hogwarts. he invited the entirety of the Slugclub, and their dates to the formal event.
Y/n daydreamed about going with Neville- even if it was just as friends. Just her and him, dressed up all fancy, attending an event together- together. she had to ask him before anyone else did, before anyone else scooped him up.
She sticks her quill behind her ear, the feather trapped between her helix and head-restraining her hair.
"Say.. Neville- did you hear about Slughorn's Christmas party?" She questions, her eyes hesitantly roaming the parchment in front of her. The paper of her textbooks crinkling as her hands get comfortable on top of the school books. She can feel her jaw creaking as she talks, nervously.
Neville nods, his hair bouncing slightly as he turns his head up From his book to make eye contact with her; despite his complete attention being brought to her as soon as the first word left her mouth. Y/n's eyes don't look up from her parchment till after she's done talking, a curious and sweet look on her face- her blushed face as she turns to observe him.
even though the Christmas party was on the twentieth of December- over two months away- y/n thought she would secure him as her date before anyone else does, she couldn't bare seeing him with someone like Eleanor Branstone.
"Y-yeah but- I didn't think anyone would want to go with me so I-I just asked Slughorn for a job as a waiter, you know- to distract myself from everything with you know who- and the fact that no one would go with me" he swiftly looks back as his book, waiting for her response.
"Oh"
She sputters slowly, fumbling with the page of her book- just toying with it until the edge starts to ruffle and become pliant. "W-well I was gonna ask you-"
He jerks his head up from his book, his signature swoop of hair seeming to sway as he looks at her; his eyes bulged as a shocked look is painted on his face.
"A-as friends, you know- no one would ask me anyway- it's fine though" she quickly retreats at his reaction, looking away. he closes his book with a thud- the leather seeming to slip from his hands as he looses control of his body, and his mouth.
"Y/n- what do you mean no one would ask you?" His brows furrowed at the idea that she would ever think that- ever think that no one would want to go to something with her- especially a formal event. Her eyes, Almost scared-like, glances at him- his state of either confusion or anger, she can't tell. Her hands situated on the back of her book, clutching the rough cloth of the publication; searching for reassurance of any kind.
"W-well it's just- I'm not that prett-" he stands up, the back of his thighs leaving the chair with a soft scrap of his trousers. He previously set down the book he was reading before, his hands desperately looking for something to grab as they throw themselves sound on his head, running through his hair before he sets his palms out onto the table edge, his body slightly leaning over as he crouches down to reach the tabletop.
"Y/n- are you listening to yourself??" Neville says a little too loudly, his disbelief earning a hush from madam Pince. He quickly sits back down, making sure to not make very much noise as he takes his book back into his lap, aimlessly flipping through the pages.
"I just meant you're very p- ....capable of getting a date- that's it.." he whispers, his mind racing- thinking about y/n and reviewing the conversation in his head. His head pointed down at his book. His eyes looking somber, filled with an unfamiliar sparkle as they search the page, lazily reading the text.
"T-thank Neville- " y/n whispers back, blushing. Her head turning back to her work as she resumes, still thinking of Neville and her observation of him in the previous seconds.
She desperately wants to hold his hand- feel his warmth. it just looks so soft; set out on the table, his knuckles slightly pink from the cold weather. but she abandons that idea, fearing he won't like it, running her hands through her hair as an alternative, detangling it as he huffs out, leaning back in her chair.
——————
October 28th.
Neville and y/n decide to go for a walk near the black lake to distract themselves from classes, and you know who's recent attacks. The cold air seeping through their multiple layers of jumpers seems to distract them pretty well.
the two walk on the bank as they watch their footing, making sure they don t trip on any roots on the way. They occasionally look up if they swore they saw a splash on the calm surface of the water, the deep ominous water always had its mysteries. It was well-known that a giant squid took home in the dark waters- but a squid seemed the least of everyones worries, though it did freak out some of the muggleborns. Other students were more scared of the magical creatures living in the black lake; like merpeople, grindylows and who knows what else- Voldemort himself could be down there.
they find an interesting tree, a rather tall trunk with a hole coming out from a midsection of it. neville jokingly sticks his head inside, his nose only visible from what y/n can see. She shivers in her spot as Neville searches the cavern, just incase there's any type of plant, maybe rare, inside to collect. He continued to stick his head in further, alerting y/n's nerves right as around ten bats came flying out, nearly nicking his head as he violently pulled his head out- brushing his hair around as if he had fleas. The shock nearing nocking him to the ground before stabilizing himself by setting a palm on the trunk, careful to not place his hand anywhere near the hole.
y/n laughed steadily, her stomach hurting as the joyous noise rose from her mouth. He smiles at her sheepishly as he observes her, just watches her laugh. He loves her laugh, it's beautiful-just like her.
"are you ok?" she asks jokingly, her head cocking to the side. She breathes heavily from the lack of warm air and her laughing fit, clutching at her stomach.
"y-yeah- bloody bats" he softly laughs with her as she finishes a round of giggles. Her hand swaying, motioning him to follow her as she starts to walk off, continuing to walk along the edge of the lake- her feet softly stomping on the frosty ground as he catches up.
they walk further across the bank, their shoes crunching the cold ground even further- the bottom of their shoes daring to sink into the dirt. They carefully watch out for any roots as they chatter, their mouths emitting a puff of hot breath as they talk, walking further into the sparse trees lining the black lake.
"y-you know, some gryffindors are planning a halloween party- its um- its invite only, um- do you wanna go?" he shyly switches between looking at y/n and the ground, terrified she might not want to go with him.
"oh yeah! that would be fun! a-are you going?" she questions, her fingers fumbling with a drawstring of one of her many jumpers. She quickly looks at him, blushing as he just invited her to a party- wait am his date?.
"y-yeah- we should go together- as friends" he, just as fast as y/n did the other day in the library, added the 'just friends'.
"yeah- as friends" she repeats, looking down at the ground, acting like she's watching out for roots as her boots squeak on her feet, the leather scraping together. she repeats his words in her head, part of her wishing she hadn't added 'as friends' to their conversation in the library.
as friends, as friends, as friends
—————
October 31st.
Neville struggles to quickly throws on his costume, a half assed pirate. running down the stairs of the spiral staircase as he pulls his shirt over his head, pirate hat in hand, messing up his signature swoop of hair. The almost rough fabric rubbing his sensitive skin wrong and leaving a small red patch on his forehead from sheer force. His feet stumble, skipping a few steps as he fears y/n is already in the common room, possibly just waiting in a corner- alone- or even worse; with someone else.
He stands on the balcony looking over the entirety of the common room, his feet stopping in his tracks, his shoes clacking on the stone as he steps closer to the barrier, stopping as he reaches the small, wall-like panel that would stop a person from falling into the common room if they tried. His eyes skim the entire room, red taking over his eyes as the room is violently painted in red rugs and tapestries. The smell of fresh butterbeer and sweat fills his senses as he looms over the growing crowd to seek out y/n- to search for her. He's relived to see y/n isn't anywhere in sight, his heart rate slows down knowing no one- no one in gryffindor- is hitting on her.
His fingers graze the smooth stones lining the balcony, taking in the texture he's familiarized over the past years he's attended the school. His eyes dip down to his fingers as he feels an unknown grill in the stones, examining it as his fingertips run along it, waiting for y/n to enter the common room.
i wonder what y/n is gonna be dressed as, i don't know why she wouldn't tell me, she said it was a surprise.
neville is lazily dressed in a loose, off white, scratchy looking, button down, four buttons undone at the top, exposing his chest. he has a thick belt paired with some baggy, dark brown trousers and a stereotypical pirate hat- Neville will avoid wearing the hat for as long as he can.
He sits near the fireplace, the back of his thighs sinking into the couch as he sets his hat next to him, almost saving a seat on the couch. He actually was saving a seat- for y/n. he and y/n sat on that same couch after they went to hogsmeade. The familiar, soft, red cushions welcoming him as he waits for her, ignoring everyone around him. Other students sway and dance to the- for the normal party- quiet music playing. He toys with a loose string on his shirt before flipping the fabric up to cover his chest. He wasn't going to button it up the rest of the way because he knew someone would feel like he's not in 'pirate attire' or something like that. His fingertips trace his nails as he waits, somewhere between patent and inpatient.
Neville sits there, bored. he watches the people, his eyes quickly averting to other people as most are either snogging someone, their faces engulfed in the other persons' or drinking whatever they can get their clammy and sweaty hands on.
Dean soon stumbles over to Neville, coming up behind the couch he's sitting in and leaning on the back of it, not facing Neville. Ginny at his side. Neville nods to dean before returning to his boredom, his hair briefly swooping in front of his eyes before he swipes its away, granting him sight again. almost not noticing when dean starts talking- Neville only sees his jaw move out of the corner of his eye before he turned his head to face him, trying to seem as if he's listening. Ginny waits at his side, just wanting to go somewhere else, possibly get a drink or dance, standing a bit away from him, she stares off into the crowd.
The couple is matching. Dean seemed most excited when he told Neville that he and Ginny were gonna match, his smile was huge- he seemed like nothing could bring him down. Ginny not so much- she didn't fancy dean that much, she still had eyes for no one else than Harry Potter.
They were subtly dressed as Peter Pan and Tinker Bell, apparently characters from a muggle movie or something- Ginny had a green, sleeveless dress, coming up to her mid-chest and down to her mid-thighs. Her hunched back carried fake, blue wings, her red hair stuffed into a bun.
Dean wore a darker green button up shirt with green trousers. Tacky if you asked Neville.
"You still waiting on y/n? D'you think she ditched you? Found a nice Hufflepuff guy?" Dean laughs, leaning his elbows on the back of the couch, curious about Neville's reaction.
"Shove off dean-" Neville hits the back of deans arm, blushing at his comment, soon to turn around to face the entrance to the red room before dean can say anything else.
He's cut off by his racing thoughts, started by dean, as y/n walks in.
She's wearing a warm-toned white button up- like Neville, the first few buttons were undone, exposing her collarbone and part of
Her breasts. Her waist was cinched with a lazily tied, leather looking, corset belt, almost as if she was in a hurry. Two strings hanging down from the small belt and standing out against her white shirt. Her legs were covered by a pair of black trousers. her hair separated from her forehead by a red bandana, the rest of her hair carried on her shoulder, brushing against her shirt.
she looks around, almost looking worried as her fingers fumble together with the strings of her corset. a lot of people are staring at her, mostly boys, Neville notices. It took a while for him to look away from y/n but when he did he was unpleasantly met with eyes of hungry boys looking over at her from their seats.
The warm common room welcomes her and her warm-toned costume- almost as if she was meant to be there- like she belonged, she matched. Neville quickly strutted over to her, the heels of shoes trying to clack on the carpet to assert dominance. smiling wildly at the girl as he puffed out his chest, exposing his bare skin, attempting to show the boys that he was no body to mess with, even if y/n knew that was a lie. He was trying to show that she was his- even if she wasn't, yet.
"Hey! Y-y/n!" He exclaimed a few feet away from her, his hands at his side right after waving at her, gaining her attention. She smiles instantly, her cheeks carrying a pink- probably from all the red everywhere in the common room. Her features soften, relaxing. Her gaze stays on Neville as she greets him, standing closer to him to not get in other peoples' way.
"I can't believe we picked the same costume- now I get why Ginny told me to be a pirate" y/n laughs, examining Neville's costume- more specifically his exposed chest.
Neville laughs with her- mostly just watching her as her face stretches into a deep smile, her eyes squinting with happiness.
"I knew it was a mistake telling Dean, he must of told Ginny," Neville looks over her costume, making sure to keep every part in his memory. "Though I will say, yours is a lot better than mine- I just threw it in last minute" Neville picks up a chunk of hair on y/n's shoulder, taking in more of her costume. Y/n blushes at his touch and his compliment, she suddenly feels hot in the already warm common room.
"Um- let's go get you something to drink- they've got butterbeer I think" he says, noticing her red face, thinking it's from the heat. He softly takes his arm around her, feeling the fabric of her shirt and her warm skin under it. He blushes as he realizes what he's doing, his face becoming red, but he doesn't stop.
and walks her to the drink table; guarding her from anyone else as he stands behind her, looking over her shoulder as she picks up a cup, carefully picking which drink she wants. She smiles at him after turning around, taking a sip of her butterbeer before taking his hand to lead them to the couch, the couch Neville was sitting on as he waited for her earlier.
He watches her, his eyes reviewing her costume as she gets comfortable on the couch, her legs hanging off the edge as she takes a pillow into her lap to set her cup on, resting on it. the condensation on her cup of Butterbeer creates a small, slightly darker colored wet patch on the fabric of the pillow as her cup sits itself on it. their bodies warm together on the couch, sitting close to each other. their knees touch all too much, perfectly fine for the both of them.
Their eyes meet as y/n takes a sip of her butterbeer. She smiles into the liquid- visible through the clear plastic cup. Neville copies her, smiling before taking a hand to his chin, rubbing his stubble as he watches her. She becomes flustered; looking away into the fire as he chuckles unknowingly.
Neville examines the rest of the common room, he spots a whole bunch of boys looking over at them- looking over at y/n with the same hungry eyes they had when she first walked in. Neville scoots closer to y/n as a few boys walks a little closer to her, making her visibly uncomfortable. Her legs start to ever so slightly shake as one of the boys sits in an armchair next to the couch, next to y/n. She quivers into Neville, leaning into him as she collects her legs and drags them with her body- to Neville. Neville carefully places a pillow on the other side of y/n, blocking her from the boy. She smiles up at him thankfully, happy he cares for her that much- happy he notices when she's uncomfortable.
he's heard the way some of the boys talk about girls behind their backs, it's disgusting.
"Are you ok?" Neville whispers to her, concerned. His eyebrows furrowing together as he watches the boy out of the corner of his eye, his main attention still on y/n.
"Um- I don't know- I think I'm gonna head out soon-" y/n sighs, sipping her butterbeer before shooting a half-assed smile at Neville.
"I-um- I could walk you? If you'd like" Neville offers, snarling at the boy. y/n smiles, setting down her butterbeer on a small table next to the couch.
"I'd like that" she stands up, quickly extending her arms back to pull her skirt down, over her thighs as greedy gryffindor boys stare. Neville follows her, his eyes on her as he leads her out of the crowded common room, smiling at her as he walks without looking.
——
The two make it to the entrance to the hufflepuff common room, down the stairs y/n usually leaves Neville by and down the hall; the rough stones slightly tapping against their shoes as they walk together on the cold floor. Y/n looks at him, stopping just before the barrels. Her feet pointing towards him- paying attention to him as she taps the pattern onto the wood of the barrels.
As soon as she hears the door unlock, She turns to him, hand on the cold, round, door handle.
"Y-you can stay- if you'd like. we could have a sleepover- " she suggests, her eyes daring to fly to the exposed skin on his chest.
he nods, blushing. "W-What about your roommate though? I-I mean- she won't mind?" He stops in his tracks, questioning her cautiously.
"She's been sleeping over at her friends dorm lately- we aren't that close" y/n chuckles, opening the door to the cozy and yellow common room. Moonlight seeps trough the various sized windows in the common room. Neville is confused about the light, as the room is located in the basement, but he soon dusts it off- it's a fucking magic school for crying out loud.
Y/n sees Neville's eyes glisten in the warm light, his pupils dilating as he glues his head in the direction of the plants, examining each of them carefully. Plants seem to be scattered aimlessly around the circular room, creating a lazy, comfortable feeling in Neville's head. His mind eases at the warmth, his body free of all tenses.
"This way-" y/n nods towards a door, leading to her dormitory, admiring Neville while she smiles, overjoyed at his reaction to her familiar hangout spot.
She takes his hand, walking him to the corridor while looking out for people, telling him to look at the ground as they walk. Neville softly clamps onto y/n's hand, preparing himself for whatever is going to happen to him; the stairs to the girls dorms in Gryffindor turn into a slide of a boy decides to venture up there, if you get rained on with vinegar at just the entrance to the hufflepuff common room when you don't get the pattern right on the barrels, what on earth happens when you try to go to the girls dormitories??
His eyes clamp shut, fully trusting y/n to guide him to wherever her dorm is. His arms clutched violently at his sides, not daring to touch anything as he fears he might trigger a trap. nothing happens as they reach her door, her footsteps coming to a stop in front of Neville. she holds onto him, smiling up at him before he can open his eyes.
He slowly blinks, opening his eyes slowly before turning his attention to y/n, her smiling face.
"Nothing happens- apparently Helga Hufflepuff made it so if you walk with them, and trust them they can enter. Though I don't really know how that works," she blushes, looking down at her feet. As she toys with his fingernails. He smiles, knowing she can't see it. The thought of being able to look at her and not worry if she can see him bringing Neville at ease.
She reaches for the handle, letting him go into her dorm.
His eyes are met with a similarly yellow and warm room, only met with two beds inside. Neville assumed the hufflepuff dorms where a tad smaller than the gryffindor ones, maybe that's why she only had two beds in her room.
She quickly walks over to her dresser, fumbling through them as she searches, violently pulling at something to wear only to stash in back inside quickly, almost fearfully. Her grandmother had sent her so many scandalous clothes that she barely had anything that wouldn't show off her entire body, her entire naked body. Her grandmother would usually send her some small top, almost bra looking garment, and some loose booty shorts. Sometimes the shorts would look like underwear. The fabric the clothes were made of usually consisted of very thin, almost transparent, silk of similar-sheen material.
She discarded her other options, leaving her with the most warm-looking and most covering option. An off white, still thin, dress with lace lining the bust. This was the safest option as she didn't want to make Neville uncomfortable nor did she want to wear a ginormous sweatshirt and jeans or something.
Her tooth brush was snatched from the top of her dresser, flying in between her teeth to allow her to hold her new set of clothes and her toothpaste. Her feet turn her, almost forgetting about Neville as she walks through the doorway towards the lavatory.
Her face turns to a sour expression as she remembers she has no clothes for him, or at least no clothes that would fit the quite tall boy.
"I-I'm gonna go change- I'm sorry I don't have any clothes for you-" "I don't really sleep in clothes" he responds quickly, his eyes examining her room still, not thinking about what he said.
Y/n's face turns a bright red. She's frozen as she processes what he said, what he just told her. Thoughts are certainly brought into her head from his sentence. He looks at her, finally realizing what he said. His face turns a bright red to match hers, his eyes widening at her reaction. He panics.
"Wait-nononono I meant like- I sleep in boxers- but I- I'll just sleep in this tonight-" he blabbers out, hands flailing around trying to explain himself "Nev- it's fine, I get it, it's a lot hotter in the basement than it is in the gryffindor tower too- it's really fine if you just sleep in your boxers" she walks out hesitantly, surely blushing but she wouldn't want him to be hot or uncomfortable, she cares about him- plus, now she feels better about wearing something her grandmother sent. A blushing Mess is left in the quiet of her now almost empty room. Neville sighs loudly, his shoulders slumping as a wave of relief washes over him, she was too nice, really she was.
He takes in her room, admiring it. It really is hotter in there than it is in the gryffindor tower. He can feel his face is hot, but maybe that's from something else. His thoughts flash back to the scene around him, her soft, yellow room embracing him- even though he's not supposed to be there, even though the girls dormitories are off limits, he can't help but feel a sense of comfort in her room. It's just so inviting. She has cute little paintings all throughout the room, on her walls. The floors slightly knock as he steps on the warm colored wood, making his way across the room to ease him of his curiosity. His eyes follow a similar pattern of colors, mostly yellows and whites, browns mixing in as wood gets incorporated in the pallet of her room.
A bright, pop of color takes over his vision, almost as if the world around him was blurring, only letting him see the one color he didn't see anywhere else in the room.
purple?
He stumbles over to the source, his feet quickly carrying him as his gaze only lets him see the specific color. His fingers drag along the windowsill, seeking out the curious find.
Aconite?
The plant he gave y/n in fourth year? She- kept it? And it's alive?
The plant had quite a few new stalks on it, far more than when he gave it to her. More than a dozen purple flowers erupting from the stacks of the plant, intoxicating him to keep staring. His hands guide themselves to the soil- its freshly watered and well cared for; obviously.
He finds a few new stalks soon to arise from the damp dirt as he pushes back the soil ever so slightly. The pads of his fingers resting on the soil as he examines the plant further, taking note of its shiny new leaves and the signature fresh-leaf-green color they have. His fingertips free themselves from the dirt as they scrape on the edge of the terra-cotta pot, wiping themselves as his eyes wonder to the calcium deposits on the pot- significantly larger and more copious than in forth year. His eyes glance at what he was so keen to search again, the harsh purple almost ascending from the green foliage, flowers that appear to be in bloom ignite Neville- his eyes becoming glossy as he finds that Seeds seem to be ready to fall from the precious flowers, inviting more growth on the healthy plant.
the light from y/n's lamp almost makes the plant seem illuminated. the warm lightbulb. shining all around the room, matching its warmth in color.
His attention is drawn away from y/n's thriving plant, He continues to look at her things, her curiously placed trinkets and treasures.
He notices a few moving pictures of him and her, them smiling and laughing; their smiles seeming to extend all the way to their eyes. Neville dates the picture in his head- he looked around fourteen here, he also seemed too happy- even though that's how he feels whenever he's around y/n- so it's probably before Voldemort came back from his almost spirit state.
His eyes catch a photograph of him, sunscreen visible as he lays down at the black lake. His arms stretched behind his head, comfortably holding his skull as his eyes fluttered shut, as if they weren't almost shut from the sun almost blinding him. y/n is sitting next to him in the moving photograph; just looking out, her hand situated over her eyes as she stares at the surface of the deep and mysterious waters of the black lake- she then switches back to him, her hair swishing as she sees his movements out of the corner of her eye. only to smile at him as he jokingly kicks his feet up, crossing them at his ankles, his sandals catching sun- the brightness almost bleaching the leather as it boils in the hot, June sun.
Some more photos show y/n and her grandmother, some of her parents and just some of silly random things.
One of a duck, just sitting there. tiny yellow feathers sitting on some vibrantly green grass as it's beak is open, both upper and lower mandibles open as the mouth is exposed- an almost scary picture; if it wasn't of a duckling. This photo didn't appear to be a moving photograph- Neville only guesses the photographer was either a muggle or they just didn't want to preform the charm.
Another photo, one of her aconite. looks like she's documenting it's progress. it looks like when she just got it, when neville first gave it to her. Small and barely any flowers, only two lanky stalks, both almost appearing to be naked as the purple flowers only cover the very top bit of the stalks. The pot had looked so fresh and new, compared to the pot now; y/n clearly hadn't repotted the plant. The terra-cotta was chipped in places and stained by water. The saucer carried a thin layer of patchy dirt- presumably from when she watered it and some of the soil came down into the plate-like container as water rained through the drainage hole.
Neville heard light footsteps, almost too light to hear, turning as his loose shirt flapped at his sudden movements. His gaze fell upon the door. The wooden door was propped open for a few seconds, allowing y/n to slip inside before it slowly shut behind her. His eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, his head extending into her direction as she prances around the room, placing everything back where it belongs.
she's wearing an off white, combination between silk and cotton nightgown, very thin fabric, with thin straps to match. He felt his heart drop to his groin..
Lace beading the chest as it rises up to wash over the straps too, covering them in the floral pattern. A dainty bow is placed right in the middle of the chest, on the strap lining the top of the nightgown. And- her stretch marks- Neville thought he had just seen Godric himself when he looked at her. He could only see small, Faint ones on her inner arms, but he could only imagine how her body looked painted in them, the beautiful- sometimes purple- skin, he really likes stretch marks. The dress looks quite old but in great condition- almost as if it was her mothers- or possibly her grandmothers from when they were her age, or older.
She's stunning, absolutely stunning.
y/n, with her toothbrush and discarded costume in hand. she walks towards her dresser, pair of white, almost fluffy, socks stuffing the sound of her feet on the wooden floors as she walked, she set down her toothbrush and toothpaste with a light tap before turning to her dirty clothes hamper.
The transparent, black, almost lace hamper stood out in her room along with all the warm browns and yellows.
Neville quite liked her pirate costume, the way the corset cupped her body like it was hand-crafted specifically for her and her body; extenuating her curves. it seemed to go quite well with his, he liked the idea of people thinking they were a couple, but this, this skimpy little nightgown? is so much better- it suits her so well, she looks like an angel- an alluring angel.
Her attention finally shifts to Neville- he was longing to meet her gaze again- to be the person she looked at. It was an honor that y/n even spoke to Neville- Neville often thought she should be out with people like Harry Potter, everyone was saying he was the 'chosen one' so why wouldn't she go see what he was all about, regardless Neville was very grateful that she spent as much time as she did with him, he was insanely lucky in his mind. Her eyes follow his as his thoughts flood his brain, seeming as time stopped when he made eye contact with her- it just gave him room to breathe, room to think. It was like all the negative thoughts in his brain just cleared out- just left. He could finally focus.
She smiled to herself softly, having to tuck it away, biting her lips with her teeth as she was still staring at him- he was also staring at her. she intently watches his body language, the way his shoulders seemed to soften and relax when she tucked the hair behind her ear, getting a better look at him as he stood at her nightstand, dazed. Her eyes focus on him as her body does it's own thing, carelessly throwing some duvets and pillows on the floor, a makeshift mattress. the mass of blankets building up a soft cushion on the floor, the blankets giving the person around two inches of squishy room from the ground. the duvets are only going to be used as a mattress as the room is already boiling- neither of them will probably use a blanket for covering- maybe if they're lucky they'll get to use a sheet to cover their tired bodies while they sleep, though even that may be too hot.
shes still caught up in his eyes when she remembers she probably has to say something- it might look weird if she just keeps staring, plus she doesn't know how long they'll stay in this particular trance that warms them inside- or- cools them in the boiling dorm.
her eyes switch to the pile of blankets on the floor that have accumulated as her hands fluff them on the wooden boards; situating him in particular manner so they become softer and more comfortable.
"Ok so I'll sleep on the floor and you can sleep in-" "im not letting you sleep in the floor" Neville interrupts y/n, making his way to her as his fingers run through his hair, carding his palms over it as he fixes it from his hats destruction of his signature swoop, a messy blob formed as the Hefty weighing leather pushes up against it. her eyes dark up to him as soon as he finished his sentence, shocked at his determination.
"N-Neville you're the guest- I'll sleep on the floo-"
"No. I'm sleeping on the floor-" he plops down on the duvets and various pillows after, quite quickly, walking over to him, almost strutting. y/n finds it hard to argue with him, or focus on his face as his chest is almost fully exposed to her. the warm light of y/n's lamp shining a bit dimmer on Neville as her bed hides him from the lamps' light; on her wooden nightstand, matching along with the other wood in fee dorm.
the hard floor almost hidden with the comforter as Neville flattens it, still not touching the boards of her dormitory.
He quickly takes off his shirt, exposing his bare abdomen to y/n before violently throwing it- the shirt reaches somewhere at the end of the makeshift mattress, Neville couldn't care less if y/n was going to argue any more- he's not letting her sleep on the floor. Without looking at y/n he quickly turns his body, back up as his chest hits the warm combination of blankest and pillows, lying down, claiming his spot on the floor. The moment his skin made contact with the plush linens he let out a sigh- a sigh of relief and comfort, possibly the most comfortable he's ever felt. Just being there with y/n- even if he didn't get to sleep directly next to her or with her- it was enough.
"I wasn't done yet-" she throws him another blanket, barely leaving any for her as the sheet covers him, laughing as tiredness sets in and at her aim. she didn't need a blanket, it was hot as shit in there.
Neville smells the duvet y/n threw at him- along with all the other ones as they smother his face. it smells just like her, her hair. Her skin. It smells like comfort and used quilts- not a dirty used- just a lightly used, warm, quilt. Like it had been left out in the sun, collecting heat as the day came to an end- like y/n had laid in the fabric on a lazy Sunday morning, not caring if she had to be anywhere, just a cozy feeling.
Memories engulf his mind, memories of y/n. That day they both leaned in, both seeming as if they were willing to risk it all- that day in the greenhouse. His fingers tingle at the memory of how the skin on her neck felt against his fingertips, how soft her skin was, how delicate it felt, how delicate she felt. How her arms embraced him as he sobbed, slowly building up wetness on her shirt from his tears. How she wipes his tears so carefully- so merciful. She made him feel like he was worthy of being loved- like he earned it, even if he did nothing.
In y/n's eyes, he didn't have to earn it. She would always love him if he allowed her- if she ever has the courage to tell him.
His mind carefully wandered over that night; how she just leaned into him the look in her eyes, what did that mean?- she'd probably regret it, he told himself lies; she wouldn't of regretted it- it probably would've been the best decision she had ever made.
Her eyes were half closed with lust- the look on her face, she looked like she was about to beg for him, for him to smash his lips into hers, surrounding each other with one another's warmth, just wrapped up in each other's arms.
He'd kill to have her wrapped in his arms again, especially in the little nightgown she's in right now.
He stretches, his knees crunching up almost to his chest. Once his feet stabilize themselves on the fluffy 'mattress', he lifts his hips; taking off his trousers, leaving him in his usual sleeping attire. With the blanket on him, he tugs his boxers around, attempting to cover himself, and his inevitable bulge, as best he can- he'd hate to make y/n uncomfortable. He almost forgot she was there as he was so caught up in the comfort, almost asleep. It was like he was in a dream- except he was with y/n.
y/n.
He was spending the night with y/n. He still couldn't fathom the idea of the love of his life laying down in a bed right next to him.
He wondered what it would be like to wake up with her every morning, seeing her messy
bed-head and the way it seems to wrap around her as she's caught up in her dreams, sleeping peacefully.
Maybe she'd let him push some strands out of her face before kissing her, feeling the skin of her lips dance across his before he smiles at the contact. Maybe she smiles too? Maybe she enjoys it? What would y/n look like as she woke up from his kisses? Neville can only imagine that she plays with his hair lazily, subconsciously, as she wakes up and turns into a blushing mess. Neville hopes that one day he would be the reason she blushes- the reason she smiles.
Neville also wonders if she usually wears things like that to bed- her little white nightgown.
Or does she have anything else like that?
She had to, surely- she did. her grandmother gave her loads of outfits like that- mostly scandalous sets like thin, spaghetti strap tank tops and booty shorts with a matching pattern on them- most of the time the outfits involved lace. Her grandmother loved giving y/n revealing outfits, she thought it was hilarious and she wanted to give her some of her mothers' old clothes; y/n hadn't of guessed her mother was the scandalous type.
Neville covers his shoulders with a blanket, the one y/n tossed to him. even if he's hot, which he was, he wouldn't do that to y/n- if she woke up in the morning and saw him naked- he would combust- it would be so awkward, what if she didn't want to be friends with him anymore?? Neville was being extremely irrational, in y/n's eyes, there was quite literally nothing he could do that would make her either loose interest in him, or unfriend him- she just was so attached to him.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness as y/n switches off the lamp. he could still see y/n as she didn't close the curtains on her bedpost. He was secretly propping his head up to look at the girl. She tossed herself around a bit, getting comfortable in her soft yellow bedsheets. The only thing covering her was a thin sheet, the same color of some hufflepuff banners around the room. The only thing Neville could see was her hair- it stood out against the yellow. Her figure showed her putting up her hair, a very lazy bun appeared on the back of her head- it's only purpose to get her hair away from the rest of her body, relieving her of some heat as her hair added discomfort and unwanted warmth before.
She finally got comfortable, the side of her face smushed against her pillow as her closed eyes look in the direction of Neville.
Her arm was falling off the bed, right next to Neville's shoulder. practically begging for him to reach it, touch it, hold it- embrace her fingers in his no matter how much they sweat in the hot room.
he carefully trailed his fingertips up her palm, lightly tickling her and causing her to ever so slightly squirm, pushing her face into her pillow as a blush takes over her face and some of her nose. He remains careful, letting her know he's there, he's right there. The pads of his fingers tracing her fingerprints, taking them in and creating an image of them in his head as he doesn't bother to look at his hand- he only looks at y/n.
What felt like For the first time ever, Neville locks his fingers within hers, slowly taking in each groove and the feeling of her knuckles as he caresses them as he holds her hand. her warmth spreading all throughout his body as he lays there, engulfed in tiredness and happiness. Nothing could pop this imaginary bubble they're in right now, nothing.
Their eyes carry themselves closed as their mouths have a deep imprint of a smile on them, smiling as their thoughts become dreams and their consciousness slips. both soon fall into a deep slumber, both their minds at ease with the other person there in their embrace, not caring as one anothers' warmth spreads through their bodies- not the muggy and unpleasant warmth- just like a fuzzy, comfortable warmth that doesn't add to their body temperature, that doesn't make them feel like they're going to overheat.
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Hiiiiiii this is me reading this two years later and finally deciding to publish this 🙏🙏🙏 I hope you guys like this!!