NOT PROOFREAD!
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Prologue:
Pt 1:
You're sitting in the courtyard, cross-legged. Neville's hand is firmly rested on your knee as you are sitting with your friends.
You have all together decided to take advantage of the great weather. Fall has already set in and even though the colorful leaves swaying in the breeze are a sight for sore eyes, it's becoming to cold to stay outside. Today however the sun is out, warming your skin.
In this moment, the world is a peaceful place. You lean over to kiss Neville softly on his lips. His ear grow red. He loves showing affection in public, but he's blushing every time, even after weeks of being together. You chuckle to yourself. "You're so cute.", you say.
Neville gives you a wide smile. "I love you."
You rest your head on his shoulder, your heart overflowing with emotions. "I love you too."
With closed eyes, you soak in the scenery and lick it in your mind to never forget it.
Suddenly, your peace gets interrupted as someone blocks the sun from your face.
You open one eye and are met with Draco Malfoy.
"What do you want, Malfoy?", Ron asks a few places from you.
Draco's head turns for a second. "Not your business."
Then his eyes wander across your friends: Harry, Hermione, Dean, Seamus and then Neville. A cruel smirk appears on his lips.
"Go, Draco.", you say.
He crosses his arms. "Oh but I have great news for you. You'll like to hear them."
Everything about his face makes you think that you probably won't like to hear them, but David being Draco, he's going to drop it anyways.
To your surprise, he turns to Neville. "Congratulations. It seems like you aren't a complete waste of space. You've got some Slytherin in you as it seems, Longbottom."
"What do you mean?", you ask, eyes flickering between the tall blonde and your boyfriend sitting next to you.
"I mean that Longbottom seems to have a secret."
To your surprise, Neville stiffens next to you. His grip on your knee tightens.
"Let's just go.", Neville says, attempting to get up, but Draco pushes him back again.
You get angry. "You have no right to lay hand on Neville! Besides, he has no secrets from me.", you yell at Draco.
He squints his eyes. "Of course he does. He did his best to keep it from you. But I have my eyes and ears everywhere."
You sigh. "Draco, either piss off or drop it." You say, taking Neville a hand in yours to show him that you have his back.
Draco laughs. "Remember this feeling, Longbottom. She's not going to take your hand again after what I have to say."
"Please don't.", you hear Neville say. His voice is trembling. Your confusion grows.
"Pathetic, the way you beg.", Draco snarls. "Anyways, this actually involves also two of your friends here."
His eyes flicker to Dean and Seamus and they exchange guilty looks.
You glance at Harry, Ron and Hermione. They seem to be as clueless as you are.
"So it seems that Longbottom has earned himself 20 galleons by winning a bet.", Draco starts.
You raise a brow, waiting for things to make sense.
"Do you want to know what the bet was about?", he asks you.
Now Neville gets up. "Shut up, Malfoy!"
Draco laughs at Neville's attempt to intimidate him. He turns back to you. "Good thing you're sitting, this will knock you down. So, I overheard those two-", he points at Dean and Seamus, "- talking in the hallways earlier. Looks like they made a bet with Longbottom, about if he could make you fall in love with him."
You start laughing. "How long did it take you to-"
...'come up with that story', you wanted to say but then Neville turns around and you see the guilt lingering in his eyes and the way his lips start trembling.
Looking over to Seamus and Dean, you see the exact same expression in their eyes.
Suddenly, the world comes to an halt. It's as if the sun is a paid actor. She hides behind a grey cloud and the world turns dark, just like your mind.
You get on your feet, struggling to do so. "Tell me that's a lie.", you plead to Neville, who avoids your piercing eyes.
"I'm sorry.", he whispers with a broken voice.
You hug yourself. "You out of all people, Neville. God, I was so naive."
Tears fill your eyes. "We're done.", you croak.
You leave the courtyard as fast as your legs carry you, Neville's calls for you and Draco's cold laugh following you.
Pt 2:
The past 2 days have been bad - okay, bad is actually an understatement.
You never expected such a cruel thing like making a bet over your feelings from Neville, out of all people. He said he was sorry when you texted him and you tend to believe him. But he broke your trust once and you couldn't be sure if he really means what he says anymore. Your trust is broken and even though you really want to forgive Neville, you just can't.
Nervously, you knead your palm with your fingers, waiting for the time to pass.
You try to stay calm, but your going through a rollercoaster of emotions, torn between the urge to forgive and trust Neville and the raging anger and sadness that comes when you think about him.
Taking a last deep breath, you get up and grab the box that you had packed. Crazy how a whole relationship fits into it.
When you enter the common room, Neville is already sitting at a table. The room is empty besides you and him, because it's way past curfew.
"Hey.", Neville says, getting on his feet. There's clear evident that he cried shortly before you came down the stairs. His cheeks are still a little wet and his eyes are red and glossy. It makes your heart ache, seeing how sad he is.
You used to be the one to cheer him up when he was down. You two used to seek comfort in your presence.
And you still want to wrap your arms around him tightly and he held in a warm embrace, but it would feel wrong.
"Hey.", is your response. Your grip on the box tightens. It's the last remnants of another lifetime and you want to keep it, even though you were the one that smashed Neville's hopes by saying you should return each others stuff.
Neville clears his throat, his voice wobbly when he says: "So, here's your stuff. I'm sure I got everything..."
You nod, unable to reply. Instead, you place the box your holding in the table. You want to step away from Neville again, but you can't.
"Can I...hug you?", you whisper before you can stop yourself, tears blinding your vision.
"Yes, please.", Neville croaks. He opens his arms for you, that much you can see.
You body's fit into each other naturally, like two pieces of a puzzle clicking together. Just for one last time, you find comfort in Neville's arms, your tears soaking his knitted sweater.
He's clenching his jaw and blinking profusely, trying to hold back his own tears, with modest success. "Even at the chance of ruining this, I need you to know I'm sorry. That bet was the biggest mistake of my life and I will spend the rest of it to make it up to you."
You sigh. "I get that you're sorry, but you broke my trust in you, Neville. I don't know how I'm supposed to ever forgive you."
You remain in Neville's arms for a while, until you convince yourself that it's only going to get worse the longer you stay.
Neville feels your body stiffen and tightens his grip just for another second, trying to stretch out the moment and engrave it into his brain. In the end, his arms fall to his sides, dangling into the air uselessly and you take a step back, wiping tears from your face.
You grab your box and hold onto it as if that would help holding your heart together.
Then you turn around to leave.
Just before your feet hits the first stair, Neville speaks up and your head snaps around.
"I know you need space, but I will love you forever.", Neville gulps, his voice drenched in pain and honesty. You know he means it.
And somehow that's only making things worse.
"I will also I've you forever, Nev.", you say and you mean it, too.
Even though it isn't going to change anything.
Before the tears can start flowing down your face again, you turn around and leave.
Pt 3:
You had thought by giving Neville his things back you had drew the final line, you had thought that you could now focus on moving on. You weren't naive enough to think it would be easy, but still, you expected to slowly move on.
What you did not expect was the be stuck in a swamp of grief, being held captive by the loss of a relationship that barely just started.
All you could think about for weeks was this last, heartbreaking hug that you shared with Neville. How warm his skin was against yours, how soft his sweater was under your cheek, how his tears dropped to your head, how tight he held you. And the pain in his eyes. Oh, the overwhelming pain.
Neville did not bother at all to hide his emotions. There were no words to describe how bad he felt; the closest he could get to an adequate description was by wearing his regret on display for you to see. Besides that, he tried to show his love through little gestures.
From time to time, you would find a flower on your place at the Gryffindor table in the great hall. They we're special, nothing like ordinary roses or lilies or tulips. Their smell was so much richer, their color so much brighter. Even without a note or anything else attached to them you knew exactly who gifted them.
You didn't tell anyone, but you wished for Neville to just do more than giving you flowers. No expensive gifts or big gestures, honestly just an explanation, because the flowers - as beautiful as they were - did not exactly explain anything, let alone make up for anything.
As you are deep in your thoughts about the current situation with Neville, like you usually are, you bump into someone, your books getting knocked out of your arm and loose papers getting scattered across the floor.
Silently cursing the other person, you get on your knees to gather your things, only to get almost knocked out by a forehead crashing against yours.
"Merlin's beard!", you scream, rubbing your forehead with your palm.
"Oh, I'm sorry!", you hear an all to familiar voice. Looking up, you realize you had crashed into Neville. He's solitude smiling at you, wearing an apologetic look on his face.
"Hey. Are you okay?", he asks. You forget about your things scattered across the floor, don't even notice the students recklessly stomping over your notes as you take a look at Neville. He looks even more lost than usually, his hair a mess, dark circles and a shadow in his eyes.
"Are you okay?", you ask, emphasizing the you.
Neville starts to nod, then stops mid movement. It's as if every bone in his upper body disappeared as he caves in. "No, actually not.", he answers, his voice hoarse. "I- I really meant to give you your time, but- I really miss you and I don't know how to make it through another day without you. I felt like it would make no difference but I need you to know that I called off the bet and did not take the money. That does not excuse anything, I know that. But I- I really am sorry and I don't know how to live without you because you basically are my life."
When he is done speaking, he's panting heavily. "You- you don't need to say anything, I just-"
You interrupt him by placing a hand on his cheek. "Breathe, Nev.", you say, forcing him to look at you. "Breathe."
He takes a few deep breaths with you until he calmed down a bit. "Sorry for freaking out.", he murmurs as he starts collecting the losers papers lying on the floor.
You just kneel on the ground, watching his every movement as you mind starts racing. He looks somehow relieved to got this things off of his chest and yet you can still see the fear in him that he made things worse. He just took the exact step you needed him to take; gave you the very same push you needed.
"Nev.", you say, stuffing books into your back.
He looks up, clearly surprised that you called him that. "Yes?"
You sigh, taking the papers from his hands. "I think it's time we have a proper talk, because I can't stop missing you."
The hope brightening Neville's eyes makes you smile softly. "I will pick you up from your last class, if that's okay with you.", he says, helping you up.
"I'm very okay with that."
Pt 4:
While the first classes raced past in a blurry, you last lesson - divination - seems to stretch into endlessness. Partly that might be due to the thick, suffocating air and the tiring voice of Professor Trelawney as she goes on and on about the importance of divination in todays society. But mostly it's because you are eager for the conversation with Neville and of course that makes the time seem to pass slower.
But eventually, the class comes to and end, you grab your bag and are almost out of the room when the Professor calls you back in. You debate to pretend you didn't hear her, but then she's already next do you, trying to ask why you were so absent today, but you brush her off with the lame excuse of being tired.
Now you are the last one to leave the class, but still smile at the thought of Neville waiting outside in the corridor. But there is no one.
Well, maybe his class took longer than expected, or he decided to get changed before picking you up. Or maybe he changed his mind, a faint voice in the back of your head speaks. You crush it like a bug under your shoes and shoulder your bag. But still, the echo of it lingers in your brain as you take one step after another down the right staircase into the lower levels.
A little porcupines by your thoughts, you only hear the voice when you turned around the last corner.
"Let me through.", Neville says. His figures is hidden by Draco and his two brutes, Crabbe and Goyle, who obviously are cutting off Neville's path up the stairs - the reason why you did not find him outside the classroom.
"Nah, I think we will have some fun before. Tell me...", Draco says in a cruel voice, "how are things going with y/n? Did she take pity on you already?"
You don't have to see Neville's face, the tone of his voice is enough of a proof to his anger. "That's none of your business.", he replies, trying to push past Draco and Grabbe, only to get forcefully pushed away by the latter.
Neville, who was in no way prepared for a physical confrontation, stumbles over his own feet and crashed into the wall behind him. With a horrific sound, his head hits the stones - and the work goes silent.
"Nev?!", you yell, pushing past the three Slytherins, that seem to be shocked about what just happened. You fall on your knees beside him and shake his limp body, getting no response. But you see the blood that already made a tiny pool under his head. A tear lands on his face as you pull him into your lap, not caring about the sticky, warm liquid that smears your clothes and skin.
"Get a professor at least!", you yell back at the three boys, your voice breaking from anger and fear. "Now!"
You rip your tie off of your neck and use it to press it against Neville's head as the boys start running. For a Professor, you plead.
You get heard. Two endless minutes later, Professor Snape appears out of nowhere, and with a flick of his wand, jaultest Neville into the air, your tie magically still pressed against his head.
"They did that!", you tell the Professor, motioning to Draco and his brutes at the feet of the stairs. Snape only shoots you a glare. "It was an accident.", he snarls.
"It was not. They-", you try to explain, eager to at least get some fairness, but Professor Snape already is out of ear sight, Neville's limp body floating besides him.
You swallow the words and follow him, but not without giving Crabbe a slap across his cheek and hissing: "If one of you dares to come close again, I will tear you apart, limb by limb!"
Then you silently follow Snape towards the infirmary, not taking your gaze away from the rising and falling of Neville's chest, and you pray to Merlin, and to every other mightiness existing, that it will never stop moving, at least not before yours does.
Pt 5 (last part):
It's strange how seconds stretch into minutes, minutes stretch into hours and hours streicht into eternity when fear has it's claws drawn into your heart. Despite the loud tik-tak of the watch on the clock on the nightstand, time seems to creep past torturous slow.
Your hand starts hurting from the way you clench it this whole time; your muscles ache and beg to be relaxed, but you don't even notice it. You are two occupied keeping track of the movements of Nevilles chest.
Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.
It's been two hours since Madame Pomfrey stopped the blood flow and took care of Nevilles wound. With her magic, it was effortlessly. Within seconds, the wound was gone - vanished as if it had never been there. And after you carefully washed his hair from the blood and covered him with a blanket, he looked as if he was peacefully sleeping.
Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.
But he isn't just sleeping; he is unconscious, due to inner bleeding in his head and severe concussion. Madame Pomfrey assured you uncountable times that Neville will be fine, but you refuse to believe it until he wakes up. If it wasn't for him, you would have made your promise true and hunt Crabbe Vincent down to rip his fingers off and shove them down his throat. And Professor Snape would be next. He straight up refused to believe that Crabbe - or any of the others for that matter - had anything to do with Nevilles „accident" how he called it. „We all know Longbottom is to clumsy for his own good.", he snarled and you wanted to rip his tongue out.
You bite the anger back. There are more important things.
Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.
„Neville, just wake up.", you murmur and take his hand between yours to bring it to your lips. „Please."
You've said the same exact thing over and over again, but no reaction from Neville. But this time - this time his hand in yours twitches. Grasping it tighter, you scoot closer in your chair and watch his face closely.
„Oh Nev!", you sigh when his eyes flutter open.
He groans in response. „My head hurts like fucking hell.", he curses, his choice of words unusually rude.
You can't help but laugh. Only now he realizes that he is not alone. He blushes to his hairline and looks at you. „Sorry you had to hear that.", he says.
You start laughing hysterically, tears of relief rushing down your cheeks. „You have no clue how glad I am to hear anything you say.", you gasp eventually.
„What even happened?", he asks curious. His eyes flicker to your hands intertwined with his, and when you try to pull away, he grabs one of your hands, not ready to let go.
You sigh. „Crabbe the little fuck pushed you down the stairs.", your answer, earning a loud laugh. „Easy petal.", Neville says.
„It's true though. And Snape is just as bad. He protects Crabbe. But credit to him for at least brining you here."
Neville only sighs. „Not a surprise at all. Snape hates me. But for how long have I been unconscious?"
You take a look at the clock. „Nearly two and a half hours. The worst hours of my life if I might add." You can't help but place a little kiss on Nevilles knuckles. „I was so worried, Nev.", you confess after taking a deep breath.
He blushed again. „I'm sorry you had to go trough this."
You scoff. „You've been shoved into a wall and still apologize to me. You're so considerate it's hard not to love you.", you say before you can stop yourself. But when the words are finally out, you can't get yourself to regret them.
„You- what?", Neville coughs, his eyes wide from confusion. He's totally gobsmacked by your words.
You repeat your last sentence again, looking hm deep in the eyes.
„I...god, I love you too, but what are we going to do?", he asks, unmistakably referring to your current situation.
You clear your throat. „I don't know about you but I'd like to try again."
„Holy- come here.", Neville says, opening his arms, his face lighting up with joy.
Without hesitation, you lean into him. „I want to try again too.", he mumbles into your hair. „I swear, I will make this work. No lies, no secrets. Just honestly and affection, okay?"
You sigh and when you breathe in and Neville's scent fills your nose, relief takes away all the worries. „Okay, Nev."