#Storm comfort neville longbottom

[jadeshifting]

AMORTENTIA.

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the air in the dungeon was practically electric, a low hum of whispered gossip and barely-contained giggles rippling through the students as they slid into their seats. today was the day—Amortentia day. everyone was buzzing, eyes darting around, wondering who among them might catch a whiff of their essence in the swirling potion. the curiosity was intoxicating: what would you smell? would it reveal some secret crush, or confirm a love you hadn’t dared to voice? the thought of brewing it, learning its secrets for future use, had everyone on edge, hearts thudding with anticipation. the room was alive with possibilities, every stir of a cauldron promising revelations and maybe, just maybe, a gossamer thread connecting you to the person you’re meant to be with

WHO IS IT THAT YOU SMELL ?

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˚☽˚.⋆ MATTHEO RIDDLE. dark chocolate and crackling embers devouring wood chips, with a hint of something dark and unidentifiable

˚☽˚.⋆ DRACO MALFOY. crisp winter air and freshly polished leather, laced with a whisper of expensive cologne

˚☽˚.⋆ THEODORE NOTT. ancient parchment and sandalwood, with undertones of the forest after an unforgiving storm

˚☽˚.⋆ PANSY PARKINSON. rich jasmine and a touch of spiced vanilla, wrapped in a cloud of luxurious bergamot perfume

˚☽˚.⋆ LORENZO BERKSHIRE. sea salt and sun-warmed driftwood, with a tiny hint of freshly squeezed lime

˚☽˚.⋆ BLAISE ZABINI. luxurious cooking spices and smooth, aged whiskey, with the faintest trace of cedarwood

˚☽˚.⋆ ASTORIA GREENGRASS. soft rose petals and sweet honey, tinged with the refreshing scent of a summer breeze

˚☽˚.⋆ DAPHNE GREENGRASS. mellow lavender and fresh morning dew, layered with a whisper of crisp apple

˚☽˚.⋆ MILLICENT BULSTRODE. earthy pine and rich musk, softened by the warmth of freshly brewed coffee

˚☽˚.⋆ HARRY POTTER. freshly cut grass and a hint of broomstick polish, with the undertone of gently burned bay leaves

˚☽˚.⋆ HERMIONE GRANGER. crisp parchment and freshly brewed peppermint tea, with a subtle whiff of vanilla candle wax

˚☽˚.⋆ RON WEASLEY. warm cinnamon and rich butterbeer, tinged with the comforting scent of old wood

˚☽˚.⋆ LUNA LOVEGOOD. the ethereal scent of rain-soaked wildflowers and a hint of parchment, like secrets whispered in a moonlit meadow

˚☽˚.⋆ GINNY WEASLEY. the fiery aroma of spiced apple cider and freshly mown grass, full of warmth and untamed spirit

˚☽˚.⋆ FRED WEASLEY. fiery cloves and burnt sugar, mingling with some mysterious electric buzz

˚☽˚.⋆ GEORGE WEASLEY. smoky bonfires and caramel toffee, layered with a cheeky twist of citrus zest

˚☽˚.⋆ CEDRIC DIGGORY. golden apples and the fresh scent of a cool river breeze, tinged with warm amber

˚☽˚.⋆ NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM. freshly turned soil and blooming flowers, with a faint trace of sun-ripened strawberries

˚☽˚.⋆ CHO CHANG. delicate baby’s breath blossoms and soft raindrops, with a whisper of green tea with too much sugar

˚☽˚.⋆ CORMAC MCLAGGEN. sharp citrus and molten pine candle wax, layered with the crispness of mountain air

˚☽˚.⋆ OLIVER WOOD. freshly mown grass and clean sweat, mixed with morning dew on wood and the stirring of broom polish

˚☽˚.⋆ SEAMUS FINNEGAN. smoky campfires and a hint of spiced firewhiskey, laced with the tang of sea salt

˚☽˚.⋆ DEAN THOMAS. charcoal sketches and warm cocoa, blended with the cozy scent of old bookshops

˚☽˚.⋆ REMUS LUPIN (ooh, scandal). warm honey and worn leather, with a trace of earthy pine forests after rain

THE JUICY AFTERMATH.

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the aftermath of Amortentia class is pure, unfiltered chaos. whispers turned into gasps when Dean realized his girlfriend didn’t catch his scent in the potion—no, she smelled someone else entirely. in front of everyone, too… yikes.

.　　. 　 ˚　. meanwhile, Astoria’s cheeks turned into fiery roses when she realized she smelled the awkward Gryffindor idiot she sneered at in the hallway (RON!! WEASLEY!!), and now she had to question practically everything about herself and her sensibilities

.　　. 　 ˚　. but the real scandal? Padma smelled Professor Lupin. yep, full-on professor. she looked like she wanted to sink into the floor, but how embarrassing was it, really? (no one else wanted to admit it, but plenty of his students knew that the gentle cadence of his voice and his capable nature made them swoon in class.) friendships were tested, secrets spilled, and the whole castle buzzed with the fallout of who smelled what—and more importantly, who smelled who

WHAT DOES YOUR AMORTENTIA SMELL LIKE ?

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after all, if you know, you can zero in the moment someone else smells you—you hear someone whisper a description of your particular brand of personal fragrance, and their harbored affections for you are on full display for you to take advantage of

˚☽˚.⋆ freshly baked cinnamon rolls on a chilly morning, the scent of the creamy glaze cutting through the bite of the cold air

˚☽˚.⋆ the buttery sweetness of caramel popcorn at the fairgrounds, playful and indulgent, mixed with the salty tang of sea breeze at sunset

˚☽˚.⋆the rich, creamy fragrance of coconut oil warming on sun-kissed skin, luscious and inviting

˚☽˚.⋆ the soft, powdery scent of lavender sachets in a vintage wardrobe, delicate and calming with an undertone of light wood shavings

˚☽˚.⋆ the silky smooth scent of jasmine tea steaming in a porcelain cup, refined and subtly intoxicating

˚☽˚.⋆ crisp, clean and freshly laundered linen on a breezy day mixed with the sweet, fruity aroma of ripe peaches on a summer afternoon

THIS YEAR’S AMORTENTIA DISASTERS.

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sure, there’s always one or two, but the Amortentia mishaps that year were legendary

.　　. 　 ˚　. first off, poor Cormac accidentally dosed himself—yeah, rookie mistake—and spent a week hopelessly in love with his reflection (but how different was that from his true self, anyway? no way of knowing.)

.　　. 　 ˚　. then there was Katie, who slipped a few drops into a goblet meant for Mr. Harry Potter of boy-who-lived fame, only for his best friend Hermione to pick it up instead. The look on Katie’s face when Granger started waxing poetic about Katie’s “brilliance” in the middle of the great hall was priceless—but, of course, Hermione was beet red and positively humiliated after it wore off, and i believe the two haven’t spoken since. i think Katie learned her lesson, though.

.　　. 　 ˚　. and let’s not forget Jenny, who finally got her crush, Maximus, to fall head over heels—only to discover lovesick Maximus was clingy with a capital C. cue sleepless nights and desperate whispered pleas for antidotes. a couple of brave (or just plain desperate) students tried to brew their own fixes in the dorms, resulting in green smoke, shrieking mandrakes, and one extremely unfortunate case of squishy bones and a subsequent trip to the hospital wing

.　　. 　 ˚　. and of course, the pièce de résistance: Parvati and Lavender dragging a moonstruck Ruby to Slughorn, her eyes glazed over, babbling sonnets about a completely baffled Draco Malfoy—he loved attention, sure, but he looked like he wanted to die. Slughorn went easy on her to save them the embarrassment. the whole school buzzed with these tales, each mishap adding another layer of absurdity to a year that already had more than enough going on

GOOD LUCK IN LOVE THIS YEAR, WITCHES AND WIZARDS

yours truly,

— me :^)

[nidamae-approvedhpfanfics]

Storm of Yesterday

by ShayaLonnie

Hunted by Voldemort, Hermione and Harry make a last stand in Godric's Hollow. When the Boy-Who-Lived lives no more, Hermione is thrown back in time into another battle where she has a chance to save not only Harry, but another Potter.

Harry Potter, T, English, Hurt/Comfort & Romance, chapters: 68, words: 132k+, favs: 9k+, follows: 3k+, updated: Oct 27, 2016 published: Sep 7, 2015, [Hermione G., James P.] Marauders

This story is Canon Divergent. For further disclaimers and warnings, make sure to read my profile. To read the unedited, rated MA/E version, please check out this story on Archive of Our Own under the same name: ShayaLonnie. [Updated Jan 2017.]

========I read the FFN version and agree with Teen rating ============ AO3 info:

Hunted by Voldemort, Hermione and Harry make a last stand in Godric's Hollow. When the Boy-Who-Lived lives no more, Hermione is thrown back in time into another battle where she has a chance to save not only Harry, but another Potter. — Begins Mid Deathly Hallows, AU going forward.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8850352

Language: English Words: 129,507 Chapters: 68/68

Hermione Granger/James Potter, Hermione Granger, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Harry Potter, Alice Longbottom, Frank Longbottom, Emmeline Vance, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mary Macdonald, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Various Weasleys, Lily Evans Potter, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Violence, Canonical Character Death, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternate Universe

[sweetblinginrose]

stay away from me, lestrange!

(Neville Longbottom x fem¡OCLestrange)

warnings: It mentions torture, death, bullying, abuse, evil, distress…

words: 2,5k

a/n: it’s a bit of an introduction, sorry, the good stuff is coming, i promise.

my main language is not English.

masterlist previous chapt. next

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

Chapter four: Belladona

“I don’t understand how you can keep going to that Muggle house when you could perfectly well live here, with all of us…” Draco commented, his tone hovering between incredulity and reproach. His pale eyes settled on his cousin Morwenna, who remained expressionless, her gaze fixed on the plate of gourmet food in front of her. The tableware, pristine and adorned with intricate gold details, only served to highlight the contrast with her mood. She had no appetite. In fact, she hadn’t felt hungry in weeks, lost in thoughts that had consumed her ever since that day in the library.

She barely paid attention to Draco’s words, which seemed to reach her from a distant fog. Deep down, she knew he was right: life in Malfoy Manor was, at least on the surface, comfortable, safe, and luxurious. But neither safety nor luxury could dispel the knot forming in her chest every time she remembered that argument, those furtive glances, and the secret she still couldn’t share with anyone. Not even Harry, who, incidentally, was risking his life in those absurd and dangerous Triwizard Tournament games. How could she think about anything else when her friend was facing deadly trials that only served to feed the magical community’s morbid fascination?

But Draco didn’t understand—or rather, he didn’t want to understand. He kept badgering her with his opinions, as if he believed he could shape her to his will. Worse still, he had started insisting on something Morwenna found unbearable: Viktor Krum. According to Draco, the famous Bulgarian Seeker was an ideal candidate for her, “worthy of her lineage,” he would say with his characteristic air of superiority. What Draco didn’t understand was that Morwenna neither needed nor wanted anyone deciding for her. And least of all turning her love life into yet another tool to reinforce the Malfoys’ blood purity obsessions.

Tired of her cousin’s words, Morwenna did nothing but keep her gaze fixed on her plate. The meat, perfectly cooked and seasoned, hardly seemed like food to her. The pure silver cutlery in her hands felt cold, just like the light that bathed the immense dining table, a distant light devoid of warmth, seeping into every corner of that place. She toyed with the cutlery, twirling it between her fingers as if it were harmless, but in her mind, a storm raged. As Draco continued speaking, his voice faded into the background like a useless echo, growing more distant and more irrelevant with each passing second.

In that moment, Morwenna wasn’t at that table; she was trapped in her own thoughts, her own ghosts, in a world where neither Draco nor his obsession with lineage had any place.

Morwenna couldn’t shake the firm voice of Neville from her mind. It was like a persistent echo, resonating in her head over and over again. She had never heard him speak like that before. Neville Longbottom, the boy who always seemed shy, almost invisible amidst the chaos of Hogwarts, was no longer the submissive boy she remembered. There was something different about him, something that unsettled her and, at the same time, intrigued her.

As Draco’s words continued to flow uninterrupted, Morwenna drifted again into that memory. Her thoughts soon veered toward something much darker, something she didn’t want to relive but that returned to her with the force of a storm: the Ravenclaw’s hands. She closed her eyes briefly, as if that simple gesture could banish the sensation from her mind. But it was useless. The memory of that moment seemed to have left a mark she couldn’t erase, no matter how hard she tried.

It was only when the clatter of silverware against her plate snapped her back to reality that she noticed Draco was still talking. His usual tone, full of superiority and enthusiasm, was starting to pierce through the barrier of her thoughts.

“… So, what do you think? Should I tell him? I’m sure you two would be the best at the ball!” Draco exclaimed, with a confidence as absolute as it was irritating.

Morwenna slowly raised her gaze, barely focusing on him, while her mind was still struggling to push away the images that haunted her. “Yes, yes, whatever…” she murmured at last, too drained to argue, too weary to contradict him.

Draco’s face lit up instantly, as if his cousin’s indifferent words were precisely the approval he’d been waiting for. “Perfect! I knew you’d see it my way!” he remarked with a polite smile, tilting his head slightly in triumph.

While Draco celebrated to himself, Morwenna let out a soft sigh. Though her cousin was delighted, she couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that enveloped her. Her thoughts, always so insistent, slipped back once again to the echo of Neville’s voice and the shadow of that memory she so desperately wanted to forget. Morwenna stood in front of the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, her expression as cold as the stone walls of the castle. Facing her, with a mocking grin and an air of careless confidence, was Cormac McLaggen—the boy who had recently become the center of countless rumors in the corridors of Hogwarts. One particular rumor had brought her here: the blatant lie that he and Morwenna had kissed.

“Who do you think you are?” Morwenna snapped, her voice laced with a restrained fury that could rival the roar of a lion, even though she wasn’t a Gryffindor. Her eyes sparkled dangerously as she pointed a perfectly manicured finger at him, her nails gleaming under the warm light of the torches.

Cormac, instead of backing down, simply raised an eyebrow and smirked, as if her anger was more amusing than threatening. “Oh, come on, Morwenna, don’t be like that. It’s just a bit of fun. Who’s it hurting, really? A little rumor never killed anyone,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension that almost made her lose her temper entirely.

“I didn’t even know you existed until a few days ago,” she shot back sharply, every word cutting like a blade. Her finger remained pointed at him, as if she could pierce through his arrogant facade with the sheer force of her glare.

For a moment, Cormac’s confidence seemed to falter, but he quickly recovered, leaning slightly toward her with a smile that was meant to be charming but only served to irritate her further. “Really? Well, it seems like now you know exactly who I am. And admit it, the rumor isn’t that far-fetched, is it? It could’ve happened…”

Morwenna felt anger surge through her like an uncontrollable wildfire. She closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to keep herself from completely losing her composure. “I’ll say this once, McLaggen. If I hear you spreading anything like that about me again, you’ll regret it. I don’t have time for attention-seeking children,” she said, her voice icy enough to make even Cormac tense slightly.

Cormac narrowed his eyes, his mocking grin twisting into a scowl of irritation. Morwenna’s defiant attitude no longer amused him; his wounded ego was beginning to show in the way he tilted his head and furrowed his brow.

“Oh, yeah?” he shot back, his voice now laced with venom. “Well, that’s not what some of the guys are saying…”

A chill ran down Morwenna’s spine, but she refused to let it show on her face.

“I’ve heard you’ll kiss just abut anyone,” he continued with cruel satisfaction, savoring each word as he studied her with eyes glinting with arrogance. “And, well… it wouldn’t hurt if I joined that list, would it?” he added, his tone dripping with suggestion as he stepped closer.

That was the final straw.

Before she could even process the disgust rising inside her, her body moved on pure instinct. In an instant, her wand was raised, aimed directly at McLaggen’s face.

“Slugulus Eructo!” she cast, her voice steady and blazing with fury.

The spell hit him squarely, and within seconds, Cormac doubled over, his expression shifting from smug to horrified. A sickening, wet sound filled the corridor as the first slug wriggled out of his mouth, followed by another… and another. His face turned pale with revulsion and rage as he fell to his knees, gagging and retching.

Morwenna watched him with a mix of satisfaction and disdain. “That’s the closest you’ll ever get to kissing a girl, you creep,” she spat, her voice carrying through the corridor with such force that several heads turned.

From the Gryffindor common room, a few students peeked out to see what was happening, while in the nearby hallways, conversations fell silent. A ripple of murmurs spread among those witnessing the scene, stunned by the confrontation—and even more so by the punishment Morwenna had just dealt to McLaggen.

But she was no longer there to hear their whispers or see their stares.

The anger that had burned so fiercely just moments ago vanished in an instant, leaving behind something much heavier, much more suffocating. Something inside her cracked at that moment, something that yanked her back to the memory she had fought so hard to bury.

Cormac’s words, his tone, his arrogance… it all reminded her too much of that day in the library.

Her eyes burned with tears before she could stop them. A crushing wave of helplessness hit her so hard she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Without another word, without even looking back, she spun on her heel and ran—away from the crowd, away from their stares, away from the pain threatening to consume her.

The minutes crawled by as Morwenna hid in the west courtyard, a secluded corner of the castle where few ever ventured. The cool afternoon air brushed against her skin, but it did nothing to ease the burning in her chest or stop the tremors in her hands. She hugged herself tightly, trying to stifle the sobs that still escaped her lips.

It was a quiet place—almost too quiet—save for the sound of her own crying and the soft whisper of the wind stirring the dry leaves scattered across the ground. But then, another sound made her tense. A crunch. The distinct crackling of leaves being stepped on.

Her body reacted before her mind did. Heart pounding, she spun around sharply, bracing herself to face whoever had followed her.

And she found herself face-to-face with Neville Longbottom.

The shock of it left them both frozen for a moment. He had walked straight toward her without realizing she was there, and now they stood so close that she could see the faint flush spreading across his cheeks. Neville awkwardly stepped back, mumbling something under his breath as he avoided her gaze.

Morwenna, however, didn’t look away. Her tears still glistened on her face, but something in her expression had shifted. There was no trace of the usual contempt with which she treated him, nor the disdain she often had for Gryffindors. Only exhaustion remained.

“Oh… it’s you,” she murmured, her voice dull, but lacking the sharp edge of hatred that usually colored her words.

Neville hesitated, as if unsure whether he should stay or leave. But something in his dark eyes—a mixture of concern and nervousness—made Morwenna, for the first time in a long while, feel no urge to put up her usual walls between them.

Neville took a step back, clearly unsure how to react to the situation. “Oh, I didn’t mean to intrude…” he murmured, turning toward the path he had come from, ready to leave as he had arrived.

But before he could take another step, Morwenna, with an unexpected impulse, stopped him. Her hand settled firmly on his arm, as if she didn’t want him to slip away, as if, for some reason, she needed him there.

“Uh… Neville… I…” Morwenna began, her words breaking, barely audible. It was as if the simple act of speaking to him made her unravel even more. Her words tumbled over one another, struggling to emerge, as the tears continued to fall.

“Thank you… for the library… you know, for stepping in…” she finally murmured, her tone lower now, but full of palpable gratitude.

Neville froze, surprised by the words he had just heard. It had been so long since they had had any real interaction, always wrapped in hurtful words and looks full of disdain. He never would have imagined that Morwenna, the same girl who had insulted and belittled him countless times, would now be thanking him for something as simple, yet significant, as this.

“I… I didn’t know what to say… but… well…” Neville stammered, still processing the situation. His gaze softened, and a small, shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as if, deep down, he couldn’t help but be touched by her gesture.

Morwenna stared at Neville, her eyes glassy as she fought to regain control over her emotions. Then, suddenly, the reality of the situation hit her. She realized just how vulnerable she must have looked to him, how exposed she was in that moment. A wave of shame washed over her, and her face turned a deep crimson.

In a sudden burst of discomfort, she pulled her hand away from Neville’s arm quickly, as though what had just happened had no place in her life. Her fingers trembled as they disconnected from him, and she hastily wiped away her tears, desperate to erase any trace of the vulnerability she had shown. She grabbed her bag without looking, taking a step back, her unease visible in every one of her movements.

In her haste, she stumbled slightly on the uneven ground, and dry leaves and dirt clung to her right knee and calf. A sharp sting shot up her leg, but she didn’t even pause to check; her only concern was getting away, escaping the discomfort she felt.

“This never happened! Don’t talk to me!” she shouted, her voice a mix of anger and embarrassment, as if pretending none of it had occurred was the only way to salvage what little of her pride remained.

Without waiting for a response, Morwenna spun around, walking briskly, almost slipping again as she rushed to leave. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps, and her hands, gripping her bag tightly, betrayed just how nervous and confused she felt. As she walked, the images of the library and Neville’s face kept echoing in her mind, but she couldn’t stop. She needed to be alone. She needed to distance herself from him, from the vulnerability she had just exposed.

The days passed slowly, but everything changed when, finally, the date of the long-awaited Yule Ball was announced. Morwenna, who had been eagerly waiting for that moment, found herself caught between excitement and fear. The ball had always been something she had idealized in her mind, a dream where magic and elegance came together, and in her fantasies, she had always imagined a handsome guy by her side, as if that would be the moment she would meet someone with whom to share her life, someone who would become everything to her. Of course, she thought that way every time she kissed a boy, even though the realities were far less ideal than her dreams.

As the days went by, she began to notice something she hadn’t before: Viktor Krum couldn’t take his eyes off her. Every time she entered the Great Hall, she felt his gaze fixed on her, as if she could feel the weight of his eyes even while he was talking to other boys or training with his team. His presence was constant, like a shadow in her line of sight. At first, Morwenna thought she was being paranoid, but when the glances continued even while he was with others, she started to wonder if there might be something more behind it. She then remembered her cousin Draco mentioning Krum in some conversation, suggesting that he might be a good option for her, though at the time she hadn’t paid much attention to that advice.

The glances became a regular thing, but one day, the situation changed abruptly. Krum approached her unexpectedly, and Morwenna felt her heart race with every step he took toward her.

With his deep voice and sweet Bulgarian accent, Krum sat next to her, making his presence feel even more imposing. For a moment, they both stayed silent, as if the air around them became thick. However, it was he who broke the ice, his words filled with a confidence that took her breath away.

“Hello, beautiful Evangeline…” he said, using her second name in such a natural way that Morwenna blushed instantly. It was one of those small things she hadn’t seen coming, something that disarmed her effortlessly.

“I’ve heard very good things about you, both mentally and physically,” he continued, his tone so direct that it made her cheeks burn with a deep blush.

Morwenna didn’t know how to react, surprised by the boldness of his words, but also by the way he said them, so serious, so intense. Before she could process it, Viktor took her hand with a gentleness that didn’t seem to match his imposing figure, and kissed it delicately. His touch was firm, yet at the same time, as if he wanted to make sure she understood what that gesture meant.

The sensation of his lips touching her skin made Morwenna lose her breath, her face completely red. The power of Krum’s gaze, the intensity of his presence, made her heart race, while an uncomfortable knot formed in her stomach. She tried to process what had just happened, but the words seemed to slip away from her mind.

“V-Viktor, right?” she whispered, her voice trembling, unable to believe he was there, in front of her, speaking to her in such a close, direct manner. The mixture of surprise and a strange emotion she couldn’t identify overtook her.

Krum smiled slightly, never taking his eyes off her, and Morwenna could see a spark of amusement in his gaze. Despite the discomfort she felt, something in her chest, deep inside, was awakening. It was a confusing sensation, as if she were trapped between surprise and the desire to see what else would happen in this unexpected encounter.

Morwenna was so lost in her thoughts, caught up in the intensity of Krum’s gaze, that she failed to notice Neville Longbottom watching her from a nearby table. Her mind was still spinning from what had just happened, from the soft brush of his lips on her hand and the way Krum looked at her with that overwhelming fascination. She couldn’t help but wonder what he wanted from her, why he was behaving that way.

But Morwenna’s focus wasn’t on what was happening around her. Instead, her thoughts drifted, caught between confusion, admiration, and a strange emotion that made it hard for her to process everything she was feeling. What she didn’t see, however, was Longbottom’s gaze, fixed on her from across the room as he sat at a table with Ginny Weasley, lost in their studies.

Neville, upon realizing what was happening between Morwenna and Krum, couldn’t help but feel a wave of disgust. His face tightened, and his brow furrowed so intensely that it seemed as though he might pour his disdain over the entire table. It wasn’t just a look of discomfort; it was pure revulsion. Even though Ginny tried to talk to him, Neville couldn’t take his eyes off what was happening in front of him. Every gesture from Krum, every word he directed at Morwenna, seemed to anger him more. The way the Bulgarian looked at her, so confident, so imposing, not only irritated him, but seemed to stir something deeper, something he couldn’t quite identify.

Ginny, noticing Neville’s shift in mood, cast him a questioning glance, but he barely acknowledged her, so absorbed was he in what he was witnessing. His expression was a mix of frustration and something more profound—an unease that gnawed at him as he watched Morwenna, so indifferent to everything around her, so completely absorbed in Krum’s attention.

Unable to hide his disgust any longer, Neville finally diverted his gaze, focusing back on the books in front of him. But even as he did, something inside him kept stirring, something he couldn’t silence.

The days passed quickly, and finally, the moment of the grand dance rehearsal organized by Professor McGonagall arrived. After weeks of announcements, rehearsals, and much speculation, the day came when all the students of Hogwarts would gather to practice their steps for the Yule Ball. The Great Hall, usually spacious, was now packed with students of all ages. The heat was unbearable, and the buzz of the crowd made the atmosphere even denser. The tables, typically arranged in perfect order, had been rearranged to allow students to line up, but it was still nearly impossible to find space. The air felt heavy, and the discomfort was reflected in many faces.

McGonagall, as always, maintained absolute control over the situation. With her usual seriousness, she began calling students one by one, inviting them to step forward to show off their dance skills. She had promised to award five points to each student who impressed others with their dancing prowess, and as expected, many volunteered eagerly, eager to earn those precious points for their house.

However, what no one expected was that McGonagall, in an unexpected twist, decided that students would not only showcase their solo dance skills but would also have to dance with a partner assigned by her. The air in the hall became even tenser, as many exchanged confused glances, wondering who they would be paired with.

The shock was immense when, amid murmurs and nervous laughter, McGonagall called on Morwenna Lestrange and Neville Longbottom. The professor, with her upright posture and unyielding gaze, paired them together, despite the clear discomfort on both their faces.

Morwenna couldn’t believe what was happening. Her face, usually so commanding and confident, showed a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Her expression twisted into a grimace of distaste as, with a defiant attitude, she tried to avoid the situation.

“Uh… Professor, are you sure I can’t be paired with…?” Morwenna murmured, trying to keep her voice low so no one would hear. She was desperate to avoid the humiliation of dancing with Longbottom, the boy she had always looked down on. However, to her misfortune, McGonagall, with her unrelenting authority, responded to her protest aloud.

“Not a chance, Lestrange. You must respect the pairing I’ve chosen. No changes allowed. Deal with it,” the professor said, her tone firm and final, as she continued organizing the other pairs.

Morwenna, now completely trapped in the situation, could hear the muffled laughs rising among the students. Some, unable to contain themselves, whispered to each other, while others watched with a mix of surprise and amusement. The awkwardness of the situation didn’t go unnoticed, and the curious eyes of others seemed heavy, almost as if they were enjoying the drama unfolding before them.

Neville, for his part, didn’t know whether to feel relieved or more embarrassed by the attention the scene was attracting. Though his expression remained relatively neutral, Morwenna could see in his face that he wasn’t enjoying the situation any more than she was. But what frustrated Morwenna the most was the obvious truth: she was trapped. And the thought of having to dance with Longbottom, someone she had despised and ridiculed for so long, made her feel as if she were losing a part of herself.

The atmosphere grew even denser when Neville, though a bit awkward, placed his hand on Morwenna’s waist. The softness of the contact made Morwenna shiver, as if every inch of her skin had reacted to the touch of Neville’s hand. The reaction was immediate and visceral; she grabbed his shoulder tightly, almost as if trying to avoid any kind of closeness, but her fingers inadvertently dug into his skin, leaving a faint mark from her nails. Neville, surprised by the intensity of her grip, let out a puff of air, the tension between them now palpable.

The music began to play, and without warning, their bodies moved in unison, as if they had become an extension of each other. The rhythm of the melody, gentle yet persistent, seemed to spark something between them, an inexplicable connection. Morwenna, although tense at first, began to feel surprised by how effortlessly their movements matched. It wasn’t that she was enjoying the situation, but something inside her began to recognize the fluidity with which they moved together, as if the initial discomfort disappeared with each step they took.

Despite the tension and surprise, they became more than just two people forced to dance together. The fact that they had never communicated smoothly beyond the sharp and awkward words didn’t stop them from moving as if they had been doing it all their lives. It was a bewildering contrast: he, usually clumsy and shy, and she, used to controlling the situation, now moved forward as if they understood each other without needing to speak.

Morwenna, still uncomfortable, couldn’t help but feel a trace of astonishment as she realized that, somehow, they were perfectly in sync. Their feet seemed to move almost autonomously, and as their bodies spun, she couldn’t help but glance at Neville, noticing a mixture of concentration on his face—and something else. She couldn’t put a name to it, but she felt it. As if, for the first time, the situation was beyond frustration or anger, and was touching a new form of connection.

Despite everything that had happened before, everything she had thought about him, Morwenna couldn’t deny that, in that moment, there was something inexplicably captivating in how their bodies, despite their differences, moved together.

After a series of flawless spins and steps, they were the only ones left dancing until the end of the song. The others, either exhausted or uncomfortable, had long since exited the dance floor, abandoning it in the midst of the music’s crescendo. But they continued, somehow, completely absorbed in the moment. Each movement seemed to flow with an almost magical precision, and the connection between them, which had started as something awkward and tense, was transforming into something so fluid that it felt as if the music itself had possessed them. The movements were not just a coordination of steps; there was something more, a tacit understanding that grew with each turn. It was as if they were both in a shared trance, completely immersed in what they were doing.

However, like all good things, the song came to an end. The final chord resonated in the air, and at that precise moment, a loud round of applause burst through the atmosphere, shattering the bubble they had been in. They both separated abruptly, as if a thunderclap had struck between them. Suddenly, the electricity that had been hanging in the air dissipated, and with it, the moment vanished, leaving them back in the same discomfort that had defined their relationship from the start.

Morwenna quickly took a step back, her face now flushed with the embarrassment and awkwardness of what had just happened. What had once been near-perfect synchronization now felt like an invasion of her personal space. She wasn’t sure what she had felt, but that same closeness that had seemed so seamless before now felt foreign, even strange. As she tried to compose herself, she noticed that Neville, also puzzled, stepped back, his expression mirroring her own confusion.

“Bravo! Spectacular!” Professor McGonagall clapped enthusiastically, her excitement unmistakable as she held the vinyl record, clearly waiting to change it. Her face gleamed with satisfaction at having achieved what she had intended, though the atmosphere between the two dancers was far more tense than she had anticipated.

Morwenna and Neville exchanged a fleeting glance, full of discomfort, before their eyes shifted to the floor, as if that simple gesture would allow them to avoid the inevitable. The break in the moment had been as abrupt as the dance itself, and now, amidst the laughter and applause filling the Great Hall, they returned to their original positions: him, the awkward and shy Neville, and her, the ever-proud and reserved Morwenna. The magic that had existed, even if just for a brief moment, had evaporated, leaving only the echo of what had just transpired between them.

tags

@iyearnyouu @dopetrashlawyerdeputy-blog @potterblog @lazybitch06 @hanihoney88 @certainyouththing @sarawoweeee @scretlololok @staygold162 @that-crazy-skz-stan-uwu @shilphy87 @namiusedbubble @20bombshell04 @nott-my-riddle @iyearnyouu @longbottomlove @josephineable @brooklvn111baby

[angelicized-d0ll]

Neville Longbottom x Slytherin!Reader Headcanons (Friends to lovers)

tags : fluff, friends to lovers, pining, confessions, no beta reader

a/n : i’m really sorry if theres any weird formatting or discrepancies !! i wrote this on my phone at 4 in the morning with no beta reader and started getting carried away and wrote a oneshot at the end…. woops lol :P also why is neville so criminally slept on in the hp fandom ?? :c im pretty sure ive already read all of his x reader fics available online.. anywho, enjoy !!

• The whole castle was rather shocked when they first saw the two of you walking about the castle's hallways. Your own Slytherin friends questioned you relentlessly as to why on earth you were hanging out with Longbottom of all people??

• To others, you come across as quite intimidating-a young woman with a sharp tongue and ambition, unafraid to engage in a confrontation when necessary. Yet, the moment you're with Neville, you seem like a completely different person.

• It doesn't go unnoticed how you're always craning up to look up at him with that lopsided, goofy smile plastered on your face, the way you always find some excuse to get an invisible piece of fuzz out of his hair so you have a reason to touch him, the way you always ask him for tutoring for Herbology despite being one of the brighter students in the course.

• You guys have become each other's personal protectors. The moment anyone dares to speak poorly of Neville, you're already striding around the corner with purpose.

• "Care to repeat that?" you challenge, your voice steady and dark, sending the terrified third-years scurrying away in a panic.

• You know Neville would do the same for you without hesitation, The instant someone utters a word against you or your house, Neville is right there, swift to silence the rumors and passionately defend his best friend. His loyalty is unwavering, and his determination to stand by you is fierce.

• After a few months, pretty much everyone in the castle knows you two are a thing, except you and Neville. Snape and McGonagall have secretly been placing bets at this point.

• It finally reaches its tipping point one night when you're having a sleepover with Neville in his dorm, the two of you were sitting on opposite sides of his bed, just talking and laughing like you always did. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you while you both grinned like idiots. Your smile suddenly drops though, as you shift around nervously on your side of the bed.

"Neville.. could I um... Ask you about something?"

"Of course Y/N, what's on your mind?" he inquired softly, tilting his head ever so slightly as he smiled dorkily, your heart skipped a beat. You began to fidget with the hem of your jumper as you nervously looked down.

"I just... I can't keep acting like... Like" you paused, your voice catching in your throat. You felt the weight of your unspoken words pressing down on you, a storm of emotions swirling within. With a sudden resolve, you snapped your head back up, locking eyes with Neville, your heart pounding in your chest.

"...Like I'm not in love with you, Neville."

Neville stared at you for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise as his cheeks turned a bright scarlet and he closed and opened his jaw repeatedly

"W-What!?" he finally managed to sputter out.

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the overwhelming urge to disappear. "I'm sorry, I just-I couldn't hold it in any longer," you stammered, your voice quivering just above a whisper. "I understand if you don't feel the same, but I had to let you know, Neville... I'm really sorry."

When you dared to peek back up at him, Neville was still frozen, his mouth slightly agape. For a split second, you thought you'd ruined everything. This was the end of yours and Nevilles friendship. He might be friends with a Slytherin but sweet, precious, kind Neville would never date one.

But then, slowly, he moved closer, His face just a few inches from yours.

"You... love me?" he repeated, his voice softer now, as if he were testing the words on his tongue. You nodded, unable to speak, the nerves tying your voice into knots.

His calloused hands, roughened by years of work in the greenhouse, gently enveloped your softer ones, and he began to trace soothing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. His eyes met yours, a gentle warmth radiating from their depths, and a soft smile spread across his lips.

"I-I love you too, Y/N," he confessed, his voice trembling with sincerity, "I have for ages."

The two of you locked eyes, a comfortable silence settling between you. Neville's cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, and his voice trembled slightly as he finally broke the quiet.

"M-May I kiss you? Please?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course you can, Nev," you replied. He leaned in, his eyes searching yours for reassurance, and pressed his lips softly against yours, as if you were made of fragile glass. His touch was tentative, like he feared he might shatter you with a single misstep. You lifted a hand, feeling the softness of his hair between your fingers, and gently threaded your fingers through the strands, pulling him closer as you deepened the kiss, your heart beating in synchrony with his.

You both eventually break apart to catch your breath, faces flushed with color Neville smiles at you and says, "l, uh... don't think I got it quite right the first time.

Should we give it another shot?" he asked sheepishly

“Well… practice does make perfect,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck, ready for more kisses.

This was the best sleepover ever.

[nickeverdeen]

Hello! If you're still taking match-up requests, could I possibly get a match-up for characters you think I would realistically be compatible with from Maze Runner, Harry Potter, Spiderman:ATSV, and the Hunger Games?

I have dirty blonde hair (curly/shoulder length) and gunmetal/steel blue eyes. I am 5'5" and plus-sized. I enjoy nature, books, writing, baking, gardening, flowers, storms, rain, long drives, and cartoons. I am introverted (INFJ-T), and usually the mom-therapist friend. I tend to keep to myself, and never really feel like I have true friends, and that there are only certain people I can trust. I also am a bit sensitive and can cry easily when under high stress.

I value honesty (pure and unsugarcoated), respect, mutual understanding, the love for life, boundaries, etc.!

Sorry if this was long! I wanted to make sure that I added the most accurate parts. Thank you for considering this request! 🩶🫂

Your The Maze Runner match is…

Newt

Newt always provides emotional support, understanding your sensitivity and offering a comforting presence

He enjoys taking long walks with you in the Glade (or in nature if you’re out of the maze), appreciating the beauty of nature together

Newt values honesty and never sugarcoats the truth, ensuring you always know where you stand with him

He helps you with gardening, finding it a therapeutic activity that you both enjoy

You both love the rain and often sit together, watching the storms and listening to the sound of raindrops

Newt encourages your writing, always interested in reading what you create

His calm demeanor helps you manage stress, providing a grounding influence in your life

He respects your boundaries and ensures mutual understanding in your relationship

Newt loves helping you bake, even if he’s not the best at it, he enjoys the time spent together

You both enjoy watching cartoons as a way to relax and bond

Newt earns your trust by always being there for you and keeping your secrets

He loves taking you on long drives whenever he takes a car from Jorge, exploring new areas and enjoying each other’s company

—————

Your Harry Potter match is…

Neville Longbottom

Neville shares your love for gardening and often spends time with you in the greenhouse

He understands your sensitivity and is always there to provide a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on

Neville enjoys exploring nature with you, pointing out different plants and flowers

He values honesty and is always straightforward with you, never hiding his true feelings

Neville respects your boundaries and ensures mutual respect in your relationship

He supports your writing and loves reading your stories, always providing constructive feedback

Neville’s calm nature helps you manage stress and anxiety

He loves your baking and often helps out in the kitchen, even if he’s a bit clumsy

You both enjoy watching the rain together, finding it peaceful and relaxing

Neville enjoys watching cartoons with you, using it as a way to unwind

He earns your trust by being dependable and always keeping his promises

Neville often surprises you with flowers, knowing how much you love them

—————

Your SATSV match is…

Miles Morales

Miles appreciates your creativity and often collaborates with you on art projects

He’s incredibly supportive of your interests, always encouraging you to pursue your passions

Miles values honesty and is always straightforward with you, ensuring clear communication

He respects your boundaries and makes sure you feel comfortable and valued

You both enjoy watching cartoons together, finding it a great way to relax

Miles loves taking walks with you, exploring different parks and natural spots

He enjoys your baking and often helps out, but actually he’s kidna good at it

Miles shares your love for rain and often sits with you, watching storms roll in

He earns your trust by being reliable and always having your back

His calm demeanor helps you manage stress and anxiety a biz

Miles loves reading your writing and often provides positive feedback and encouragement

He enjoys taking you on long drives, discovering new places together, but does it when he has a license

—————

Your Hunger Games match is…

Peeta Mellark

Peeta loves baking with you, turning it into a fun and bonding activity

His calm and gentle nature helps you with tons of things

Peeta enjoys taking you on nature walks, exploring the woods and fields around District 12

He values honesty and is always straightforward with you, never hiding the truth

Peeta shares your love for storms and rain, and you often watch them together

He’s incredibly supportive, always there to provide a shoulder to cry on when needed

Peeta enjoys helping you in the garden, finding it a peaceful and rewarding activity

You both enjoy watching cartoons together, using it as a date thing too

You trust Peeta completely, knowing he always has your best interests at heart

Peeta loves taking you on long drives, when he can, exploring new places and enjoying each other’s company

He often surprises you with flowers, knowing how much you love them and how it makes you smile

Peeta respects your boundaries 100%

[easterbonnet]

Neville Longbottom Masterlist

. . .

neville comforts you during a storm

note: he is also included in my hp boys react series on my masterlist

[h03for0lderm3n]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~warnings: self-hatred, yelling/arguing, use of profanities (i'm not good at warnings lol)

contains: cedric diggory x reader (ex-romantic), neville longbottom x reader (platonic)

: CHAPTER ONE :

Running from the greenhouse up to the castle for protection from the storm that is battering the castle grounds would be quicker if I wasn’t slipping all over in these stupid shoes. I hated the clean, polished leather that my mother insisted that me and my sister wear. ‘To be beautiful is to be respected, girls.’ She’d say with that signature smile, the one I’ve come to resent in coming months. My hair plastered to my neck and cheeks, the cheeks I hated. Those cheeks, along with the chin, the shoulders, the stomach and the back I hated more than anything. I pant as I inhale crisp autumn air, my lungs stinging at its intrusion. I see Neville Longbottom standing with the door open, waiting for him. That boy is too kind for his own good, kind but so alone at the same time. I find bits of myself in him; the way he twitches at loud noises, the way he rereads the same chapter unable to concentrate the first time, the way he chews on the skin around his nails. I think I stare at people too much… 

“Thanks, Neville.” I mutter as I walk through the door, my robes soaking wet. My hair flat and my mascara running down my cheeks, I turn and look at the boy. He whispers ‘you’re welcome’, I smile at him, watching the pink glow mask his cheeks. I wait for him to walk with me, wiping my eyes with my damp sleeve, probably making my black under eyes worse. God, I can only imagine the state of my face right now. Neville and I walk to the Divination classroom, going past some third year Ravenclaws breaking up, the boy yelling at the girl; her cheeks red and her eyes watering. My heart clenches, remembering my first breakup at about that age; how I still can't look at him for more than a few seconds. I was so fully convinced that he was my one, the only boy I'd ever love. Watching him now loving another is a knife being twisted in my gut. But I'm a big girl, big girls don't cry over dumb boys. Even if they are sickeningly beautiful, hard to look at like a sunset but you sacrifice your eyes to witness the warmth and glow. Even if for some unfortunate miracle, he is everywhere I look. Neville and I walk in silence, it’s strangely comforting, like warm socks. 

“You are so cute!” I hear the shrill voice of the girl I couldn’t stand. Cho Chang. She was his everything, you could see how he looked at her. She could do no wrong, she could kill his whole family and he’d let her. He was the sun; bright, blinding, cherished by everyone.

She was an orchid; delicate, fragrant, loved by all. 

Myself, a mushroom; overlooked, a sweet distraction from the gloom of the forest, begging for the sun to look my way. 

I roll my eyes at how he gets on his left knee and holds up the pink rose for her. Her friends squeal at the gesture; I bet their romantic expectations have been lifted by him. Mine were. 

I walk past them, I glance down at Cedric; his amber eyes looking back up at me. I look away and head into class. I see a spare seat by the window, I sit down with Neville, Lavender Brown and Hannah Abbott. I don't usually like working in a group but I tolerate it in this class. I see the addition of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students in our classes; I can see Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter ogling over some blond French girls. Why are boys like this? Slap blond hair and a flat stomach on a girl and she's the most divine thing he’s ever seen. I roll my eyes and sip my tea. Ugh, tea. I hate tea, I'd rather throw a straight shot of firewhiskey in here and have to drink that. The texture of the granules going into your mouth makes me squeamish. I grimace and look up from the table to hear Lavender and Hannah gushing over who has asked them to the Yule Ball; Hannah is going with Anthony Goldstein and Lavender with Ernie MacMillan. I purse my lips together; I knew I’d be going alone, maybe Nev and I would go as friends…wait, no. He's going with Ginny Weasley so scratch that. I may noy even go at all, maybe I’ll find the Common Room stash and smoke my pain away. I don’t really feel like having to find a dress and then stand there all night like a fly on the wall, watching everyone…watching Cedric and Cho. I feel a hand on mine; I look at Neville, he’s speaking to me but I wasn't listening.

“Sorry?” I ask, my eyes on his face, watching his lips as he speaks to assist my brain in understanding his words. 

“Lavender was asking what you’re wearing.” Hannah interrupts him, I look at Lavender, chewing on the inside of my lip. I curl my lips to the left, dragging my top lip up a little.

“I don’t know if I want to go yet. I don’t want to be alone.” I say, Neville looks at me like I'm a pathetic broken person. I furrow my brows. “Don’t look at me like that.” His eyes dart away and Lavender sips her tea. 

The rest of the day I tried to avoid the three of them. I felt bad for snapping at Neville, sure. But I wasn't going to be treated like a sad puppy because no one wanted to go to the Ball with me. I’m used to rejection, the only person to accept me was now sticking his tongue down the throat of his ravenclaw girlfriend and I couldn't look away. I sit across from them in the library and try to distract myself from the stomach churning scene happening before me. The boy who loved me made me feel like I was allowed to be loved in the way that made my chest hurt and my hair become curly and my under eyes to clear up; he was making her feel that same way and I couldn't stomach it. 

It was the night after the Quidditch World Cup; Cedric and I were sitting in the living room of my house. He’d come over to see me; had some things to speak about. Things that would make me sob so hard I couldn't breathe, so hard that my eyes stung and my cheeks hurt. I can still feel the familiar sting in the back of my throat from crying that hard. I remember looking at him, his face etched in frustration. 

“Was your dad there?” He asked me, although it felt like he was interrogating me. I could almost see the bright overhead lights of a police show. I looked at him, my eyes searched his face for any sign that he was joking. His eyes laced with decision; like he had already decided who I was and who I was raised to be. 

“My father was here last night. So was i. And my mother.” I told him, it was the truth, I had no need nor reason to lie to him. He looked at me like I just confessed to sleeping with his father, his hands clapped his knees.

“I can’t believe you’d just sit there and lie. I should’ve known. Never trust a snake, right? I can’t believe that I really thought that you weren’t like the rest of them.” He spat so much venom in his words that accusing me of being a snake was almost laughable. Almost. He slammed a mask down on the table, a strange silver face stared back at me. “This is your dads, I found it in his office. And to think that he’s married to a Muggle.”

“Wha-” He cut me off, my father had just walked in the living room. I could sense the anger in his chest, I stood and stepped in front of Cedric. My body acted as a shield for the boy who had crushed my heart. He may have not believed me but I would have done anything to protect him. 

This thought strikes me as I look at him, his eyes on the pretty brunette under his eyes. I watch as she gets up and follows one of her friends to the shelves; my feet move before I can register what I'm doing. I am standing in front of him, my eyes looking at my polished black shoes. 

“Can we talk?” I look up and see his eyes glance at Cho. Cedric leans back, letting his head rest against the back of the chair he was currently sitting in. His eyes roam over me, noticing the obvious changes since we broke up. 

"... I suppose" He responds with a tired sigh, shifting in his seat. His legs casually crossed. "You look...well."

I look at him, crossing my arms to hug myself; all of those flooding feelings coursing through me. “I miss you.”

“After everything?” He states, clean crisp cuts in my soul; his indifference stings the wounds. Salt in fresh cuts, my throat receives that familiar sting. 

“I just want you to care about how this has made me feel.” Cedric's eyes widened. He looks taken aback at the suggestion that he hasn't cared about your feelings, his eyebrows furrowing in surprise.

"Made you... feel?" He repeats, his voice low and almost a whisper, his mind racing to process your words. “Why should I care about how you felt? You fucked this up. You choose your side.” 

“Cedric, you left me in that house. You tore my family apart and left me in the rubble.” I yell at him, i admit that maybe i overreacted a bit, catching the attention of most students in the room. I grab the necklace from my pocket and peg it at his face. Cedric flinches slightly as the necklace hits him straight in the face, the pendant leaving a small red mark on his skin. He touches his cheek, his eyes locked on me, a mix of shock and defensiveness etched across his face

"I'm not sorry!" He retorts, his voice rising to match the volume of my own outburst. "You made your bed, Alana. You can go and lie in it!"

“You made promises to me Cedric! I gave you everything I had! I just want my life back from before I met you. I don't want to constantly have to be avoiding every corridor, scared of seeing you and cho! You’re the one who fucked all of this up. Ypu’re the one who yelled at me, caused my parents divorce because you found that fucking…” I trail off, my mind suddenly conscious of all the eyes on us. Cedric's jaw tenses, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he struggles to maintain his composure. The eyes of the other students bore into me, their gazes making my skin crawl with discomfort

"It's not my fault that your family is messed up!" He snaps back, the words leaving his mouth in a harsh tone, far sharper than I'd ever expected. "Maybe if you had actually taken a stand on something for once in your life, things would've turned out differently!" 

“I hope she’s worth it.” i say, i turn around and lock eyes with cho, she looks like a deer in headlights, I look away and shove past her.

[mackie02-ffn]

Week In, Week Out

Chapters: 3/19

Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Cho Chang & Original Character(s), Neville Longbottom & Original Character(s), Adrian Pucey & Original Character(s), Cho Chang & Neville Longbottom & Adrian Pucey & Original Character(s), Harry Potter & Original Character(s) (complicated)

Characters: Original Characters, Cho Chang, Adrian Pucey, Neville Longbottom, Pomona Sprout, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Cassius Warrington, Graham Montague

Additional Tags: Lunch, Harry Potter Has a Twin, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, Friendship, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, This author does NOT support JK Rowling's views on Trans People, Minor Character(s), Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, Autism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pop Culture, Not Canon Compliant, Sibling Rivalry, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, Harry Potter Has a Sibling

Summary:

Professor Sprout had never expected that her plan for a Tuesday Lunch club for lonely students of all houses would be accepted, but finally with the arrival of Adelaide Potter, sister of The Harry Potter and unpopular loner, perhaps it had a chance. With an odd assortment of students, and a plan for each of them to talk about a subject every week, surely they would get to know each other in no time.

Extract:

The next week, everyone showed up again, and seemed slightly less reluctant to be there. Professor Sprout considered this to be a success, but things were only superficial so far. She wanted them to build lasting connections.

She decided that this week was all about building on the previous one, and ended up asking the house elves for sandwiches made from cheeses other than cheddar. She also decided that as it was only January, it was exactly the right season for soup, so acquisitioned several different types. The lentil soup was fairly bland yet hearty, and the pepper soup was spicy and had an abundance of flavour. This spread, she hoped, would give all her charges something they wanted to eat while also being different from the usual fare from the Great Hall. Soup had been banned in 1976 after an irate Severus Snape had emptied a bowl of parsnip soup over James Potter's head, glared at Sirius Black and then stormed out of the room. She did not know what that had been about, but had missed soup ever since. She had once attempted to get soup reinstated in 1979 claiming that everyone deserved soup and that it would be a comfort to the students during the war. The Headmaster had claimed that it was a question of hygiene and she had proposed him tucking his beard behind his ears. Strangely, this solution had not been popular.

This is published on:

Archive Of Our Own - Chapter 3

fanfiction.net - Chapter 3

Wattpad - Chapter 3

[fandomsforpotterheads]

The Sweater

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Warnings: None

Request: @converseonverse

Story:

Can i request a George/Fred Weasley× fem!Reader with the prompt 51, like Reader wearing his hodie (only Is hodie) and She think Is cute but he think Is hot? Something like this. Love you<3!

Your house: Gryffindor

A/N: I made only a small change to this, I’m using a sweater instead of a hoodie in this story, but I hope you still like it!

***

George Weasley’s sweater, there it was in plain sight and neither of could clearly recall on find it last night as your boyfriend was frantically looking for it.

Although you tried to help him find it, you unsuccessful until the morning after you wake up and saw that the sweater had laid underneath the foot of your bed invisible to the naked eye. George had already left for breakfast so you saw this as an opportunity to try something a little new, and that was to wear your boyfriend’s sweater. It was one of his homemade Christmas sweaters from his mother and because of your small figure and frame, the sweater nearly swallowed you from neck to to, making it look like a dress.

Of course you had your Hogwarts uniform on underneath, you just wanted to see George’s reaction for when he sees what you have on. How did the sweater come to pass in the girls dorm you might ask? It was a secret you couldn’t tell to anyone but yourself, just last night a thunderstorm had begun and storms have scared you for as long as you can remember. George knows of this and when he was totally sure that everyone were actually asleep, he sneaked in the girls dorm to check on you while being there to comfort you. The first thing George did after climbing in bed with you was that he gently pulled the sweater over your head and continued to wrap it around you, which made you feel smaller but safer.

As you were now wearing George’s warm swearer, you begin to make your own way to join him for breakfast. When you had made it over, you take your usual spot at the table next to George and waited to see how long it would take him to notice. Though it didn’t take long, he just wasn’t the first to notice what you had on, Hermoine Granger was the first to comment on it, having you catching George’s eye without your effort at that point.

“You look cozy, is that sweater new?”

As George turns to see, you couldn’t help but blush and look away shyly.

“Like what you see Georgie? Fred teases.

“You won’t understand until you have the right girl in your life.”

“How do you mean?” You ask, now looking into each other’s eyes.

“Well, for starters, you’re never hard for me to find, and second, every time I see you, no matter what you are wearing, makeup or no makeup, I ask myself is this real? You’re actually what I can call mine?”

“And…?” You urge George.

“When I see you, I feel like I’m in Heaven. I mus it be in Heaven right now as I’m sitting next to you.”

“Aw, your so sweet. You’re my Heaven and happiness.”

That being said, you both slowly lean in as your lips finally meet.

Of course, making everyone feeling grossed out at the table and receiving comments. Ron and Malfoy’s comments were actually the most humorous ones.

“Get a room, you guys.” Ron demands.

“Hey Weasley, do you know where I can get myself one of those?”

Malfoy is known to be kind of a prick, but whether he was serious or not, that comment was funny as hell. He had nearly the whole Great Hall laughing.Today was going to be a good one.

You could feel it. You predicted it. But most importantly, you were right about it. A day you and George together would never forget.George was very proud to have you by his side no matter what.

For better or worse.

Forever and always.

****

Requests: Open

Characters:

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

George Weasley

Fred Weasley

Oliver Wood

Neville Longbottom

Cedric Diggory

Draco Malfoy

Tom Riddle

snape

[randomfandomimagine]

Expecto Patronum (Neville Longbottom x Reader)

Character: Neville Longbottom

Fandom: Harry Potter

Tags: Emotional hurt / comfort, fluff, hand holding, cuddling

Warnings: Slight angst

Word Count: 1,7k words

Summary: With everything that is happening due to the return of Voldemort, a scary storm is the last straw for Y/N. Luckily, Neville is there to comfort them and make them forget all their fears.

A/N: This is my entry for Olive’s (@lxncelot​) writing challenge with the dialogue prompt 10 “We should probably say goodnight” and scenarios 1 + 2 (*Playing with the other’s hand* & *Falling asleep on the other’s shoulder*).

AO3: Link

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!! // Masterlist

Neville Longbottom x Gender Neutral Reader

You were so tired that your eyes stung, but even then you didn’t close them. The distant sound of thunder startled you, causing you to shrink under the thick blanket that didn’t manage to ease your shaking.

“Y/N…” A hoarse voice suddenly called you. Terrified, you held your breath and listened, hoping you had imagined it. However, the voice called again. “Y/N”

To accompany the voice, a hand had heavily fallen on your shoulder. Throwing the blanket off you with a violent jump, you turned to see Neville stand there behind the couch you were sitting in.

“Neville…” You sighed, clutching your chest as your heart recovered. “You scared me…”

“Sorry!” He apologized, sobering up even though he was rubbing his half-lidded eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t sleep...” Was your response as you wrapped the blanket over yourself and faced the fire again.

“The storm?” Neville asked, sitting next to you. “It woke me up and now I can’t fall back asleep”

You absently nodded your head, although your eyes were fixed on the crackling flames without actually watching them.

“It isn’t the storm, is it?” His once hoarse voice, prey of the remnants of sleep, now became soft as you were used to hear it.

“No” You admitted in a hushed whisper. “Not just that”

Just in cue, another thunder startled you again and you jumped in the seat. Neville’s eyes were focused on you, but you refused to meet his gaze.

“I’m scared too…” He admitted, and with the corner of your eye you caught how he hesitantly lifted a hand up. In the end, and after several more seconds of doubt, he finally pressed it against your arm. “Now that he’s back”

Neville didn’t need to specify a name, or even a euphemism of that feared name. In any case, you shuddered just at the thought of him. You felt Neville stare at you worriedly.

“Are you cold?” He lifted his arm, hovering over you, but hesitated and put it back down.

“No” You replied, instead throwing yourself closer to him and wondering in his warmth.

“Y/N…” Neville muttered, surprised but happy. Lifting his arm again after several seconds of shocked stillness, he allowed you to press yourself against his side. The wool of his sweater was soft, just like his embrace. “You’re shaking…”

You didn’t say anything, only shielding yourself in the comfort of his closeness. Nuzzling his chest, you closed your eyes and pretended like he was the only thing that existed at the moment. His warmth enveloped you, and for a moment it was enough. Only for a moment.

Another thunder broke out, startling you and causing you to yelp and jump in the seat again. Neville twitched a little himself, but he kindly tightened his arm over you and even put his other arm around you too.

An awfully loud silence settled in the Common Room. The harsh pitter-patter of the rain against the windows resonated around you. The crackling of the fire seemed to battle with the storm, failing in its attempt to reassure you that it was stronger than the threat outside.

“Hang on…” Neville pulled out his wand, holding it in the air for a moment.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, looking up to meet with his eyes. They were closed in concentration. He didn’t respond either.

Watching in expectation, you waited to see what he was trying to do. Then, after several more seconds, a spur of light came out from the end of his wand. You observed it, trying to make out its form. A sort of non-corporeal shape made out of pure white smoke floated in the air.

“Is that… a patronus?” You finally said, understanding his intentions.

“I can never get it to take a form” Neville replied, sadly eyeing the patronus.

“I-I told you I’m not cold” You gently reminded him, patting his chest. “And I don’t think there are dementors around”

“I know” He shrugged a little, suddenly blushing and doing his best not to look you in the eye. “I just… thought it could make you feel better… it could protect you”

Against all odds, you smiled. The thought filled you with a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire burning in the hearth. It was a wave of affection that made you want to snuggle closer against him and hold him tight.

“Here, let me show you” Your hands were still shaking a bit as you pulled out your wand. “Expecto... patronum”

Your wand produced a thin wisp of silver that floated in the air, not quite taking form either. Closing your eyes, you focused on the charm. You were having trouble with it just like Neville, despite having accomplished it during the DA meetings.

The theory was easy, you just think of a happy memory and say the spell, which should be enough to conjure a patronus. Putting it on practice, though, wasn’t as easy, especially not when your heart was full of uncertainty and anguish.

“Think of a happy memory” Neville reminded you, trying to help you. “Focus on it”

At that moment, it was hard to think of something happy. That uneasy emptiness that filled your chest, the one you usually linked with dementors, was very present at the moment.  It was cold, heavy and overwhelming.

Another thunder broke out in the sky, this one sounding slightly more distant than the others. This time you only reacted a little bit, but your eyes remained closed in concentration.

“Relax” Neville reassured you, further pressing you against his side. “Breathe”

You took a deep breath, only then realizing you were holding it. That helped a little, and a happy memory was suddenly emerging in your mind. A calm smile appeared on your lips. It gave you strength, and you felt your wand feel sturdier against your fingers.

You opened your eyes, watching the silver mist that floated in the air before you. Very slowly, it began to take form. Neville gasped in awe, and when you looked at him you saw how the light of your patronus illuminated his features. His eyes seemed to hold that pure light inside them with the reflection.

“It’s… beautiful” Neville smiled as your patronus floated before the fire.

It was a small puppy, acting very timid and insecure but gathering enough courage to move around. Soon it became confident enough to walk, spry and lively, as you moved your wand. The sight made you smile, a fleeting glee reflected in Neville’s expression when he chuckled in awe.

Your gazes met, but he frowned and averted his eyes. Feeling insecure, Neville stared at his wand and apathetically tried again. The formless wisp of silver magic floated still, twisting and turning as it fought to take a shape. It couldn’t.

“Relax” You whispered with a small smile, seeing that Neville’s brow was furrowed in strain. “Breathe”

“Okay…” He sighed, easing his shoulders and turning his exertion into a calm focus.

“Lift your hand a bit” You wrapped yours around it, moving his hand up to demonstrate.

Feeling his skin under your fingers brought you warmth, one that you thought he reveled in as well. The corner of Neville’s lips twitched in a bashful and restrained smile. Before you could make a fond comment about it, whoever, something distracted you.

“Neville!” You gasped, staring at the fluid wisp of magic coming out of his wand.

“I did it…” He uttered in awe, watching how the smoke-like ethereal substance slowly formed a shape.

“It’s…” You paused, needing a moment to ensure you were seeing correctly. “It’s a dog…”

Another puppy, this one slightly bigger, joined your dog shaped patronus. The two fondly butted heads and ran around together, playfully chasing each other and gleefully prancing together.

Your eyes met again, and this time none of you looked away. Neville’s face became brighter, now illuminated by the glow of the two patronus, who continued to run and play together. He smiled at you, completely filling you with comfort with that simple gesture.

Needing to express yourself, you urgently put your head on his shoulder, nuzzling his soft sweater and holding on to his arm with your free hand. The other still held the wand, letting your patronus protect you both.

Neville leaned back on the seat, gingerly pressing his cheek against your head. His hand, although hesitantly, also found its way to yours on his arm. With the other, he was maintaining his own patronus.

You thought of something to say. A way to thank him for his comfort, for his concern and for his kindness. Perhaps a comment of relief, of the fact that you had realized not everything was lost. The storm continued outside, but it was further than ever. The thunder, even if still somewhat loud, couldn’t affect you any more.

Your fingers played with his in a delicate caress that attempted to express all of those thoughts that you didn’t really need to voice out. In return, Neville gently rubbed his thumb against your hand, like a silent promise that he would always be there for you like he was now.

That way, drowsiness finally reached you. Exhausted after hours of tension and worry, all your muscles relaxed. You finally felt safe enough to abandon yourself to an enveloping rest. Neville’s soft breathing lulled you further into the doors of slumber.

"We... We should probably say goodnight" Neville uttered, barely loud enough for you to hear. "Go back to bed..."

"Yeah..." You mumbled, not bothering in opening your eyes. "We should..."

The two of you sleepily giggled. Neither you or him moved a muscle, treasuring that comforting closeness of your embrace. His touch was healing, warming the ice cold fear clinging on to your heart. Both your patronus hung in the air above our heads, becoming stronger with every second that passed in which you leaned against each other.

Maybe that fear within you wouldn’t disappear completely, but for the first time it was okay. Because now you knew someone was there to protect you. Thanks to him, you were reminded that you weren’t alone. Never would be. And after all, you realized… you had something to hold on to during that difficult time, and something worth fighting for.

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[up-to-some-good]

Part 5: 5 times I fixed it...

“Mr and Mrs Potter,” Dumbledore started. “I’m afraid I have some bad news regarding the prophecy.”

Lily had had a bad feeling when he had pulled them out of the meeting early to talk. They had heard about the prophecy a month ago, but at that point it was between her baby and Alice’s, both born at the end of July.

“He thinks it’s about Harry,” she said.

She thought of her son. He was with James’s parents at Potter manor while they were at the meeting. He had been asleep when they left for headquarters. It was hard to believe there was a target on his back.

“Indeed,” Dumbledore responded.

James took a sharp breath and pulled Lily’s into his lap, squeezing her fingers. He reached for her whenever he needed comfort; every time he found out about another casualty, he pulled her into his arms. It was a comfort to both of them, but it didn’t work this time.

“What do we do?” James asked quietly.

“I believe you should go into hiding,” Dumbledore said. “Are you aware of the Fidelius charm?”

“Yes,” Lily said. “You conceal the secret of your location in another person. You cannot be found unless that person chooses to divulge the secret, but it cannot be coerced or otherwise forced out.”

“Correct,” the old man said, his eyes twinkling.

For a moment, Lily felt like she was back at Hogwarts, answering her Professors’ questions to win back the house points the man sitting next to her had lost.

“I suggest you use it to hide your family, until all is safe,” Dumbledore said calmly.

“All due respect, Albus,” a voice came from the door. “But that is a terrible idea.”

Professor McGonagall walked into the room and passed each of the Potters a biscuit from the tray downstairs. Dumbledore gave her an indecipherable look.

“We all know there is a spy in the Order,” she continued. “You cannot guarantee the person you choose will not betray you and, even if they do not, they could be found and killed or tortured until they revealed the location.”

“What do you suggest, Professor?” Lily asked.

“Leave the country,” she said simply. “Go somewhere far away, like Australia, where there are no Death Eaters, and return when the war is over. I suggest the Longbottoms go with you as a precaution.”

“How do we stop Voldemort from simply following us? We won’t have back up in Australia if he comes for us,” James questioned.

“A simple diversion will do,” McGonagall responded. “We will place two houses under the Fidelius as if you were living there. They will serve the purpose to hide your true location without putting you at risk.”

“Who will be the secret keeper?” James asked.

“Myself and Alastor,” McGonagall said easily.

“Okay,” James said. “I trust you.”

Two days later, the Potters packed their bags and headed for the airport. They said goodbye to Euphemia and Fleamont the night before at dinner, pretending they would be reunited, but knowing the elder two would not be around much longer. Alice and Frank met them at the airport with Neville and gave them tight hugs. No one in the Order, not even the other marauders, knew where the families were going, just that they would be in hiding for the foreseeable future.

“Ready to go?” Frank asked.

“As much as we can be,” Lily said.

The six passed through the airport and boarded the plane together, disappearing for the next year.

***  

When he arrived at the flat, Sirius poured himself a glass of Firewhiskey and retreated to his bedroom. James and Lily had been gone for a month and things were getting harder. The remaining marauders were always on separate missions, gone for days at a time and not telling each other where they were going.

Remus came back injured and held on to Sirius as tightly as he could when he came back, but they didn’t talk. Sirius loved him as much as he ever had but wondered how much longer he could go without knowing what Remus was doing or telling Remus what he was doing.

Peter did nothing but talk, guessing who the spy was and changing his opinion daily. The day he suggested Remus, Sirius asked him to move out of the apartment. He had to trust Remus and Peter. They were all he had left without the Potters.

A sound from the living room startled him. Someone had apparated into the flat, someone unexpected. Remus always apparated outside the front door, so his boyfriend wasn’t back, and Peter always sent an owl ahead, so it couldn’t be him.

He grabbed his wand and stormed into the living room to find –

Regulus, lying on the floor and drenched. He looked like he was breathing, but the strain of apparating had clearly knocked him out. There was some sort of locket clutched in his hands.

“Merlin,” Sirius said, running to crouch at his brother’s side.

He started casting every healing and warming spell he could think of, grateful for Remus’s lycanthropy for the first time. Regulus was a known Death Eater so Sirius shouldn’t have been helping him. He was his little brother, though, and he couldn’t watch him die on his living room carpet.

Eventually, Regulus started awake, sitting up rapidly and nearly collapsing again from the effort. Sirius caught him before he fell and moved him carefully to the sofa.

“Sirius?” he asked weakly.

“What the hell happened, Reg?” he asked.

Regulus started laughing, leaning his head back on one of the throw pillows. Bewildered, Sirius watched his brother laugh hysterically for a few minutes before he calmed down and looked back at him.

“I should be dead,” he said eventually. “I thought for sure apparating to a place I barely remember from underwater would kill me, if the inferi didn’t first.”

“What are you talking about?”

Regulus didn’t answer. Instead he sat up and threw the locket at Sirius, who caught it easily.

“What do you know about horcruxes, Siri?” he asked tiredly.

Within the next few days, Regulus repeated his story multiple times, to Dumbledore, Remus, Moody, and any other Order member who wanted to hear it. He wanted to join the Order, help with the hunt for horcruxes, but few trusted him.

“I’ll swear an Unbreakable Vow,” he said eventually. “I’ll vow that I won’t betray the Order, that I’ll be loyal.”

Dumbledore agreed and, once the spell was cast, Regulus was welcomed into the Order of the Phoenix.

Everyone’s missions were cancelled, unless absolutely necessary, in lieu of the hunt for horcruxes. Dumbledore guessed at the number and objects and sent them out to look for them. Within a few months, the Order had gathered the cup, locket, diadem, diary and ring after a few daring missions and one small, albeit destructive, heist from Gringotts.

“Now what?” Sirius asked. “How do we get rid of them?”

“There are two known methods,” came the calm answer from Dumbledore. “Basilisk venom or Fiendfyre.”

“So we’re fucked?” Remus asked incredulously. “Unless someone as a pet Basilisk they’d like to share?”

“There’s rumoured to be one at Hogwarts,” Regulus said mildly. “But I don’t know where.”

The Order looked at the objects on the table and collectively sighed. The few months tracking them down meant nothing if they couldn’t destroy them.

“Anyone have a house they’re willing to burn down?” Remus asked the room eventually. “Preferably one with an astounding amount of protective charms so we don’t have to cast them?”

Sirius and Regulus shared a look. Walburga Black had died just a month ago, leaving Grimmauld Place entirely empty. Orion had been an especially paranoid man, so the house had always been protected with every charm he could find. Neither of them wanted the house and they had already set Kreacher free – it was perfect.

“Actually,” Regulus said. “I think we do.”

Watching the house burn was incredible, skulls rising from the smoke as Voldemort’s soul died in the fire. It was almost fun – until the Death Eaters arrived.

A fierce battle started, everyone fighting to get to the centre, where Voldemort himself was fighting Dumbledore. Sirius stood with his back against Remus’s, righting Bellatrix and Rowle simultaneously. Remus was engaged with Yaxley and Malfoy, occasionally shooting a jinx at Goyle, busy fighting Regulus.

Across from them, Peter and Snape were engaged in a duel, neither of them focused on anything around them. Unexpectedly, Peter stunned Snape and moved on. Even more, unexpectedly, he joined Sirius’s duel – on the Death Eaters’ side.

“You little rat, Pettigrew,” he yelled. “How could you?”

“You’re not going to win, Black,” Peter yelled. “Last chance to switch sides!”

“Fuck you,” Sirius sneered.

A second later, everything changed. Dumbledore landed the killing shot and Voldemort crumpled. Bellatrix pointed her wand at a distracted Sirius. He yelled in pain and fell to his knees, but she didn’t let up, keeping her focus on torturing her cousin as if he were personally responsible for her master’s death. Peter cursed Remus before disapparating with the other Death Eaters as Moody began stunning everyone in sight.

Remus collapsed next to Sirius, blood pouring from the cuts on his chest.

“Avada kedavra!”

A green beam of light hit Bellatrix in the chest, she and Sirius collapsed simultaneously, the latter panting and shaking.

“I never liked her,” Regulus said mildly, pocketing his wand.

Sirius and Remus woke up to a sound in the living room a week later. They had left the hospital a day before, both of them still exhausted and still in pain, but alive. They slowly got up and grabbed their wands before padding to the living room, where they were tackled into a group hug by a flash of red hair.

“Lily,” Sirius said breathlessly, hugging her tighter. “You’re back.”

He pulled away and looked up to see James, holding Harry, who was almost a toddler at this point.

“We’re back,” James said quietly.

[ditzydawn11]

bloody twins

Neville Longbottom x reader (non-gryffindor)

not requested

warnings: the twins being assholes

1065 words

You fall victim to one of the infamous Weasley Twin pranks but thankfully Neville is there to stand up for you

You knew you fucked up as soon as the words left your mouth.

You were hanging in the Gryffindor common room waiting for your boyfriend to get back from class. You and Neville had been dating for quite a while so you had pretty much been adopted into his friend group despite not being in the red and gold house. You got along well with everyone and were happy to make more friends outside of your own house. You had particularly grown closer with Hermione and Ginny, exchanging girl gossip frequently since most of the group were made up of guys. However, you enjoyed talking Quidditch with Harry or talking about classes with some of the other boys. You were comfortable and friendly with everyone but enjoyed spending your time with Neville the most, though you may have a slight bias as to why.

You and Hermione were discussing an assignment from your shared Transfiguration class. That was before the infamous Weasley Twins bolted through the door riding the adrenaline high from their most recent prank. You weren’t particularly close with either of them simply because your paths had never crossed.

“What poor student did you two torment today?” Hermione questioned. “No student,” George replied, “We charmed Snape’s robes to catch under his feet and trip him when he walks” Fred finished. Hermione just rolled her eyes as the redheads made their way to the stairs to go to their shared dorm room. You leaned over to Hermione and whispered “I’m glad to say I’ve never had to endure one of the twin’s pranks before.”

Saying those 15 words were probably the worst thing you could have done because unluckily for you, both boys heard every word. They both quickly turned back around to face you two who were sitting on the couch. “Freddie, I think we have a Weasley prank virgin over here,” George said with a shit-eating grin. “You’re right Georgie. I reckon we will have to change that. Though we’ll have to make it a quickie because we’ve got practice in a bit.” Fred announced. Before you could run, curse, or even blink George tossed a Jelly Legs Jinx your way leaving you unable to escape and Fred picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder.

You pounded your fists against his back begging them to put you down but the stubborn assholes didn’t show any mercy. You began to piece together your fate when you realized that you three were approaching the black lake.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Put me down. No-,” you screamed as you were tossed in the freezing lake. Of course, it had to be January so the lake was still ice cold. When you came up to the surface for air you saw two lanky gingers running far away back into the warm castle. Luckily the jinx had worn off so you swam to the shore and crawled out coughing up icky lake water and wringing out your shirt.

You trudged back to the castle completely freezing and soaked with the little dignity you had left. You would just dry yourself except you didn’t have time to grab your wand before you had been rudely kidnapped. Fortunately, most students were in class or were studying so the halls were pretty empty saving yourself from any further embarrassment.

You turned a corner on your way back to your common room when you coincidentally saw Neville a few yards away. When he realized who the sopping wet figure walking towards him was, he quickly rushed to your aid.

“Darling what happened?” he said while simultaneously examining you for any injuries. “Bloody twins.” was all you said which was enough for Neville to put together the pieces. “Come here,” he said with his arms outstretched. “I don’t want to get you wet.” you chuckled. Instead of protesting he just wrapped his arms around you letting you melt into him. He walked you back to your dorm so you could change and gave you his sweater that was already warm from his body heat to heat you up quicker. You two then went back to the Gryffindor common room to retrieve your wand and meet up with Harry, Hermione, Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Ginny.

All of you guys sat and laughed on the couches enjoying your evening together. You explained what happened and everyone shared their Weasley prank stories to make you feel better and know that you weren’t alone. Ron unsurprisingly had countless stories to tell about growing up as the twin’s personal test dummy for all their pranks.

When Ron was telling everyone about the summer where they bewitched all his pants to constantly fall down to show his knickers, Neville had excused himself. “Sorry I just need to grab something from my dorm, I’ll be back.” You figured he was just getting a jacket because he had given you his. You didn’t pay much thought to it and continued to listen and laugh at Ron’s story.

What you didn’t know was that Neville didn’t go to his dorm and actually stormed into Fred and George’s room. Neville seemed to abandon all his shyness and insecurities at that moment when he flung the boy’s door open and chewed their ear off. “Hey if you two ever come near y/n with any of your pranks again, I will hex you into oblivion. I’ll rat you out to Snape for cheating on that potions test, I’ll tell Filch who actually turned his cat into a mouse last year, and I’ll make sure to let Molly know all the crap her sons have done at school without her knowledge. Leave y/n alone.” and with a slam of the door, Neville was gone.

Fred and George were terrified and actually a little impressed with Neville’s outburst. Neville came back downstairs and snuggled up to you on the couch. “Hey what did you need to get?” you asked not seeing anything new on Neville. “You know when I got to my dorm I couldn’t remember for the life of me what I came to get,” he laughed. You smiled and pressed a short but lovely kiss to his lips and curled into his side ready to enjoy the rest of the night with your best friends and boyfriend.

And let’s just say Fred and George never came near you again.

[yndmxlfoy]

Expecto Patronum (Neville Longbottom x Reader)

Character: Neville Longbottom

Fandom: Harry Potter

Tags: Emotional hurt / comfort, fluff, hand holding, cuddling

Warnings: Slight angst

Word Count: 1,7k words

Summary: With everything that is happening due to the return of Voldemort, a scary storm is the last straw for Y/N. Luckily, Neville is there to comfort them and make them forget all their fears.

°°°

Originally posted by multibadassfandomimagines

Found RANDOMFANDOMIMAGINE

°°°

Neville Longbottom x Gender Neutral Reader

You were so tired that your eyes stung, but even then you didn’t close them. The distant sound of thunder startled you, causing you to shrink under the thick blanket that didn’t manage to ease your shaking.

“Y/N…” A hoarse voice suddenly called you. Terrified, you held your breath and listened, hoping you had imagined it. However, the voice called again. “Y/N”

To accompany the voice, a hand had heavily fallen on your shoulder. Throwing the blanket off you with a violent jump, you turned to see Neville stand there behind the couch you were sitting in.

“Neville…” You sighed, clutching your chest as your heart recovered. “You scared me…”

“Sorry!” He apologized, sobering up even though he was rubbing his half-lidded eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t sleep…” Was your response as you wrapped the blanket over yourself and faced the fire again.

“The storm?” Neville asked, sitting next to you. “It woke me up and now I can’t fall back asleep”

You absently nodded your head, although your eyes were fixed on the crackling flames without actually watching them.

“It isn’t the storm, is it?” His once hoarse voice, prey of the remnants of sleep, now became soft as you were used to hear it.

“No” You admitted in a hushed whisper. “Not just that”

Just in cue, another thunder startled you again and you jumped in the seat. Neville’s eyes were focused on you, but you refused to meet his gaze.

“I’m scared too…” He admitted, and with the corner of your eye you caught how he hesitantly lifted a hand up. In the end, and after several more seconds of doubt, he finally pressed it against your arm. “Now that he’s back”

Neville didn’t need to specify a name, or even a euphemism of that feared name. In any case, you shuddered just at the thought of him. You felt Neville stare at you worriedly.

“Are you cold?” He lifted his arm, hovering over you, but hesitated and put it back down.

“No” You replied, instead throwing yourself closer to him and wondering in his warmth.

“Y/N…” Neville muttered, surprised but happy. Lifting his arm again after several seconds of shocked stillness, he allowed you to press yourself against his side. The wool of his sweater was soft, just like his embrace. “You’re shaking…”

You didn’t say anything, only shielding yourself in the comfort of his closeness. Nuzzling his chest, you closed your eyes and pretended like he was the only thing that existed at the moment. His warmth enveloped you, and for a moment it was enough. Only for a moment.

Another thunder broke out, startling you and causing you to yelp and jump in the seat again. Neville twitched a little himself, but he kindly tightened his arm over you and even put his other arm around you too.

An awfully loud silence settled in the Common Room. The harsh pitter-patter of the rain against the windows resonated around you. The crackling of the fire seemed to battle with the storm, failing in its attempt to reassure you that it was stronger than the threat outside.

“Hang on…” Neville pulled out his wand, holding it in the air for a moment.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, looking up to meet with his eyes. They were closed in concentration. He didn’t respond either.

Watching in expectation, you waited to see what he was trying to do. Then, after several more seconds, a spur of light came out from the end of his wand. You observed it, trying to make out its form. A sort of non-corporeal shape made out of pure white smoke floated in the air.

“Is that… a patronus?” You finally said, understanding his intentions.

“I can never get it to take a form” Neville replied, sadly eyeing the patronus.

“I-I told you I’m not cold” You gently reminded him, patting his chest. “And I don’t think there are dementors around”

“I know” He shrugged a little, suddenly blushing and doing his best not to look you in the eye. “I just… thought it could make you feel better… it could protect you”

Against all odds, you smiled. The thought filled you with a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire burning in the hearth. It was a wave of affection that made you want to snuggle closer against him and hold him tight.

“Here, let me show you” Your hands were still shaking a bit as you pulled out your wand. “Expecto… patronum”

Your wand produced a thin wisp of silver that floated in the air, not quite taking form either. Closing your eyes, you focused on the charm. You were having trouble with it just like Neville, despite having accomplished it during the DA meetings.

The theory was easy, you just think of a happy memory and say the spell, which should be enough to conjure a patronus. Putting it on practice, though, wasn’t as easy, especially not when your heart was full of uncertainty and anguish.

“Think of a happy memory” Neville reminded you, trying to help you. “Focus on it”

At that moment, it was hard to think of something happy. That uneasy emptiness that filled your chest, the one you usually linked with dementors, was very present at the moment.  It was cold, heavy and overwhelming.

Another thunder broke out in the sky, this one sounding slightly more distant than the others. This time you only reacted a little bit, but your eyes remained closed in concentration.

“Relax” Neville reassured you, further pressing you against his side. “Breathe”

You took a deep breath, only then realizing you were holding it. That helped a little, and a happy memory was suddenly emerging in your mind. A calm smile appeared on your lips. It gave you strength, and you felt your wand feel sturdier against your fingers.

You opened your eyes, watching the silver mist that floated in the air before you. Very slowly, it began to take form. Neville gasped in awe, and when you looked at him you saw how the light of your patronus illuminated his features. His eyes seemed to hold that pure light inside them with the reflection.

“It’s… beautiful” Neville smiled as your patronus floated before the fire.

It was a small puppy, acting very timid and insecure but gathering enough courage to move around. Soon it became confident enough to walk, spry and lively, as you moved your wand. The sight made you smile, a fleeting glee reflected in Neville’s expression when he chuckled in awe.

Your gazes met, but he frowned and averted his eyes. Feeling insecure, Neville stared at his wand and apathetically tried again. The formless wisp of silver magic floated still, twisting and turning as it fought to take a shape. It couldn’t.

“Relax” You whispered with a small smile, seeing that Neville’s brow was furrowed in strain. “Breathe”

“Okay…” He sighed, easing his shoulders and turning his exertion into a calm focus.

“Lift your hand a bit” You wrapped yours around it, moving his hand up to demonstrate.

Feeling his skin under your fingers brought you warmth, one that you thought he reveled in as well. The corner of Neville’s lips twitched in a bashful and restrained smile. Before you could make a fond comment about it, whoever, something distracted you.

“Neville!” You gasped, staring at the fluid wisp of magic coming out of his wand.

“I did it…” He uttered in awe, watching how the smoke-like ethereal substance slowly formed a shape.

“It’s…” You paused, needing a moment to ensure you were seeing correctly. “It’s a dog…”

Another puppy, this one slightly bigger, joined your dog shaped patronus. The two fondly butted heads and ran around together, playfully chasing each other and gleefully prancing together.

Your eyes met again, and this time none of you looked away. Neville’s face became brighter, now illuminated by the glow of the two patronus, who continued to run and play together. He smiled at you, completely filling you with comfort with that simple gesture.

Needing to express yourself, you urgently put your head on his shoulder, nuzzling his soft sweater and holding on to his arm with your free hand. The other still held the wand, letting your patronus protect you both.

Neville leaned back on the seat, gingerly pressing his cheek against your head. His hand, although hesitantly, also found its way to yours on his arm. With the other, he was maintaining his own patronus.

You thought of something to say. A way to thank him for his comfort, for his concern and for his kindness. Perhaps a comment of relief, of the fact that you had realized not everything was lost. The storm continued outside, but it was further than ever. The thunder, even if still somewhat loud, couldn’t affect you any more.

Your fingers played with his in a delicate caress that attempted to express all of those thoughts that you didn’t really need to voice out. In return, Neville gently rubbed his thumb against your hand, like a silent promise that he would always be there for you like he was now.

That way, drowsiness finally reached you. Exhausted after hours of tension and worry, all your muscles relaxed. You finally felt safe enough to abandon yourself to an enveloping rest. Neville’s soft breathing lulled you further into the doors of slumber.

“We… We should probably say goodnight” Neville uttered, barely loud enough for you to hear. “Go back to bed…”

“Yeah…” You mumbled, not bothering in opening your eyes. “We should…”

The two of you sleepily giggled. Neither you or him moved a muscle, treasuring that comforting closeness of your embrace. His touch was healing, warming the ice cold fear clinging on to your heart. Both your patronus hung in the air above our heads, becoming stronger with every second that passed in which you leaned against each other.

Maybe that fear within you wouldn’t disappear completely, but for the first time it was okay. Because now you knew someone was there to protect you. Thanks to him, you were reminded that you weren’t alone. Never would be. And after all, you realized… you had something to hold on to during that difficult time, and something worth fighting for.

[itsthewritergal]

All to myself - D.M. x reader

Happy new year my lovelies :) If you have any requests send them my way! I’ve got a lot more time on my hands at the moment so I’m planning on writing more :) 

As always- lots of love xx 

“You coming down to dinner?” Pansy asked quietly, drawing Y/N’s eyes away from her potions text book.

“Don’t think so, I’ve got to get this done” Y/N hummed sadly ignoring the pain in her stomach from the lack of food

“Ok, I’ll try and sneak you some up later” Pansy grinned walking out of the Slytherin Common Room, Y/N smiled at her friend’s gesture.

Y/N turned back to her potions text book with a frustrated sigh, she had been working since classes finished yet she was no closer to finishing her project. Grabbing a different textbook she hoped desperately that it would explain things in a better way

“You’re working late” Draco said sitting himself down on the desk next to Y/N

“Need to get this potions work done” She said not in the mood for any of his snarky comments

“Can I help?” Draco asked

“Why would you do that?” Y/N said looking at him in confusion

“Because I’m your friend, now what are you stuck on” Draco deadpanned

“Everything we did today” She answered honestly

“Ok, lets start from the basics yeah?” Draco asked Y/N nodded,

To Y/N’s surprise Draco spoke calmly and slowly explaining each potion to Y/N, he was patient, more so than Y/N had ever realised. “So what do you do with the eye of Newt?” He asked

“You add it to the potion and heat until it turns yellow?” She said in a unsure tone

“Is that a question or an answer?” Draco challenged

“An answer” She nodded “You add it to the potions and heat until it turns yellow” She said feeling much better about her answer when Draco broke out into a grin

“Right again!” he beamed “You’ve got this” He said

“Thanks, I had a good teacher” She smiled “I hope you don’t mean Snape” Draco chuckled

“You two look comfortable” Blaise grinned, cutting Y/N off from answering Draco. The moment the words left his lips Draco pushed himself out of the chair and away from Y/N

“You know how it is, didn’t have anyone else to bore me” Draco laughed,

“Thought you couldn’t stand her” Blaise said as they made their way over to a sofa

“I can’t but nobody else was here, what was I supposed to do?” He hummed,

Y/N closed her potions books and stormed up to the Slytherin dorm rooms, anger bubbling up she threw her books at her bed, with a muffled scream.

— — — — —

“Has anyone seen Y/N this morning?” Pansy asked as they sat at the breakfast table, Draco couldn’t help but listen in to the conversation, he had felt bad about what he had said he knew Y/N heard every word of it.

“I’m right here” Y/N said sitting herself down next to Pansy,

“What happened to you? Suddenly find out you were related to a supermodel or something?” Blaise said running his eyes up and down her body,

Y/N fluffed her freshly curled hair and winked at him “Oh no, I just decided to stop being a bore” She hummed turning away from him, the words clearly aimed at Draco.

“You look insane” Pansy grinned

“So good” Daphne agreed

“I know” Y/N beamed,

Y/N spent the day enjoying the looks she was getting as she walked down the halls. Gone was the shy slytherin girl, in her place stood the new and improved Y/N and everyone was seeming to love her. Y/N stood outside the potions class room talking to Neville

“Did you manage to finish your herbology project?” He asked her

“Not yet, I’m thinking I might go to the library after dinner and make a start” She said

“I could come with you, you know if you needed help” Neville said “but only if you want me to, I understand if you don’t want me t—”

“That would be great Neville” Y/N smiled sweetly, she’d always had a soft spot for him, he was the only one who paid any attention to her before she’d dressed herself up.

“Think she’s a bit out of your league Longbottom” Draco sneered coming up and standing next to Y/N “Don’t be an arse” She snapped,

“Y/N” Draco started quietly,

“Don’t even think about talking to me, wouldn’t want to bore you” She growled

Snape ordered them into the classroom before Draco could respond. He cursed himself silently for everything he had said about Y/N to Blaise, now knowing that he really had messed up.

— — — — —

“How was your date with Neville?” Pansy shouted the moment Y/N walked through the Slytherin Common room door

“It wasn’t a date Pansy you know that” Y/N laughed it off “but he was lovely” She added with a giggle

“Malfoy’s been asking about you all evening” Pansy said,

“Good for him” Y/N snapped “Sorry, I just don’t want to talk about him” “He’s the reason you did all this isn’t he?” She asked

“He called me a bore, and said that he couldn’t stand me” Y/N said quietly noticing Blaise’s eyes on her

“Look I know he’s sorry, but I’m going to suggest you make him prove it to you” Pansy grinned with a wink “now are you coming?” she asked sitting herself down with Blaise, Draco and Daphne.

Much to Y/N’s annoyance the only seat was one next to Blaise, which she took crossing one leg over the other she relaxed into the conversation.

Blaise threw flirty comments over to Y/N every moment he could, Y/N didn’t mind too much. But the moment he put his sweaty palm on her thigh she felt herself snapping. Picking it up she shoved it off of her bare thigh, she thought she had made the message clear enough until he did it again, and again, and again.

“You put your slimy hand on my thigh one more time I’ll hex you so hard you won’t live to see next week. Got it?” She snapped loudly,

“If my last moments would be of your face I’d die a happy man” Blaise grinned placing his hand on her thigh once more.

Y/N snapped.

All she saw was Blaise’s stupid smirk as she slapped him.

“Touch me again and you’ll regret it” she said once more

“Come on, what do you expect when you’re dressed like that?” He laughed,

Y/N stood up, clenching her fists she tried to make her way back up to the dorms.

“One for good luck” Blaise said as a hand came down on Y/N’s arse, she turned to him face full of anger. Grabbing her wand she racked her brain for a good hex

“Don’t do something you’ll regret” Draco stood, placing himself in-between Blaise and Y/N, his hand placed gently on her arm

“But he” She started

“I know, leave him to me okay?” He said calmly  “I’ll deal with you later” Draco seethed at Blaise before leading Y/N up to her dorm room.

— — — — —

Y/N stood at the mirror, harshly rubbing a makeup wipe over her face. The false confidence now replaced with disgust.

“You’re going to hurt yourself doing that” Draco commented

“I want it off” She snapped

“Come here” He hummed taking the wipe from her “Do you mind?” He asked his hand hovering over her face, as if he were terrified to touch her. Y/N smiled and pushed her face gently towards his hand, not knowing the words to ask him to help.

Draco tilted her head up to meet his eyes as he gently wiped the make up off of her face

“I was an idiot yesterday. You’re not a bore, not at all. I told Blaise I didn’t like you so that he would stay away as well”

“I don’t understand Draco, why would you do that?”

“Because I’m selfish, I wanted you all to myself. When you came in the great hall all dressed up I hated it because everyone saw what I already saw” He said tearing his eyes away from her and sitting himself down on the bed

“Draco you barely looked at me before yesterday” Y/N hummed

“That’s what you think, there’s a reason I asked Snape to move to the back of the potions class, it’s so that I could look at you. You have this adorable face when you don’t understand something. I couldn’t see it from the front, transfiguration you sit next to Longbottom, and whenever you get a question right he gives you a high five. Charms, you and Granger have a tally of who can get the most marks. Y/N I’m completely enamoured by you and I don’t really know what to do about it”

“How do you know all that?”

“I know it can’t be love just yet, but I think it could be” He said “You don’t need makeup or fancy hair to prove to me that you’re not a bore. If you want to do that then I’ll be here to beat up any guy who looks at you funny but I like you just as much before”

“Are you going to stop acting like you dislike me around your friends?” She asked

“Only if you promise me that you’re not going to fall in love with any of them” He chuckled

“I’ve only got enough love for you Malfoy”

TAGLIST :) 

@whitewineandpizzapuffs

@planet-naptune

@thefandomplace

@sebby-staan

@witch-and-a-half

[xo-gossipwitch]

Dorm-mates say they saw Looney Lovegood snogging on Zabini by the Black Lake but I don't know... Seems a little far fetched. Gossip witch surely will know!

Desperate to forget what Draco decided to share with the world in his diary, Zabini found himself in a bit of a loony-loving situation. I wonder how Longbottom will take the news, and the poor guy always seems to get the short end of the stick.

~xoxo, Gossip Witch

"Zabini!" Neville yelled, storming up to the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. His entire body was shaking as he approached the group of students, whom he would go out of his way to avoid on any other day, but today, he had a bone to pick with one particular individual sitting at that table. The closer he got, the faster his heart began to beat. Taking a deep breath, Neville pushed all of his fear to the back of his mind and crossed his arms over his chest as he squared up to Blaise.

"What do you want, Longbottom?" Blaise hissed, looking the Gryffindor up and down. He fought the urge he felt to roll his eyes at the man standing in front of him. If anything, Blaise deserved to get put in his place by Neville. He had gone behind the man's back and snuck away to the Black Lake with his witch just for the hell of it. There wasn't any rhyme or reason to which witch he brought with him down there, and he just wanted to feel something other than anger.

"Of all the girls at Hogwarts, why did you have to go after Luna?" Neville asked, steadying himself with a deep breath as he waited for Blaise to respond.

There were a few ways that this situation could play out at this point. Blaise could swing at him for confronting him in the middle of the Great Hall - the fact that Neville was becoming increasingly aware of as he felt the eyes of his classmates staring at him. Blaise could apologize, and they could both walk away from the situation, never to speak of it again. Or they could both swing at one another and end up in the infirmary for at least the rest of the night. The middle option of the three was preferred, but ultimately, this confrontation would be inevitable. At least once he had faced his fears by talking to Blaise, maybe he'd have enough adrenaline to face his fears about talking to Luna about everything.

"Nothing happened between Luna and me," Blaise replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his gaze at Neville. There was no reason for him to believe what Blaise was saying, but there also wasn't any evidence to the contrary besides Gossip Witch's latest blast.

"Why would I believe what you have to say about the situation?" Neville asked, shifting his weight from one foot to another as he took a few deep breaths.

"Have you talked to Luna about it?" Blaise asked, rolling his eyes as he watched Neville's nerves starting to show. A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips when he noticed the small shake of Neville's head. "Maybe you should go talk to her before you fool yourself talking to me."

Neville glared at him for a moment before shaking his head. "At least my best mate didn't out me for being bad in bd in front of the whole school. Stay away from Luna, Zabini. She deserves someone better than you."

Neville turned on his heel and started to walk away when he heard Blaise calling after him, pausing only for a moment to hear what he had to say before reacting.

"I never turn away a witch in need of comfort when her wizard can't give her what she needs," Blaise replied, a smirk pulling tight at the corners of his mouth with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Neville turn back to face him. "She came to me, and I offered her exactly what she needed."

"You said nothing happened," Neville hissed, gritting his teeth as he closed the space between himself and Blaise. Before he even realized what he was doing, Neville felt the crack of a bone beneath his knuckles as his fist made contact with Blaise's face.

"Mr. Longbottom," Headmistress McGonagall yelled, approaching quickly from the other side of the room. "My office. Now. Someone go fetch Madam Pomfrey to take care of Mr. Zabini's nose."

~xoxo, Gossip Witch ~

Want to be a part of the Gossip Witch fun?

This story is meant to be slightly interactive. Submit anonymous blasts about the students at Hogwarts and you might find your prompt used as inspiration in a future chapter! Submit your blasts to the @xo-gossipwitch blog on tumblr.

Thanks for continuing to inspire this story!

[fredweesleyismyslut]

Name of the Game - Neville Longbottom x Slytherin!reader

A/N:  This was a request from the lovely, @obsessedwithrandomthings​ and I hope I did you justice with my writing!!  This request just gave me warm butterflies as a Slytherin and just because as much as I love Fred, hence my name, I have a little soft spot for Neville.  Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy this potato of a writing and enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it and pretending as if I was writing a masterpiece and acting as if I was Shakespeare writing Romeo and Juliet.  Welp, now I’m gonna go back into my hermit cave and stress over how I probably didn’t do great on my psych midterms because I like self sabotage.

“Hey, Longbottom,” you said, smiling up at the boy who denied your attention each time.  Neville clenched his jaw slightly as he quickened his pace to walk away from you,  “Awwww come on Longbottom don’t be like that between us.”  He turned quickly on his heels, face slightly red from most likely what you would assume was anger, “There’s nothing between us, Lestrange.” Then, he turned around walking faster and into the Gryffindor common room, which you were quite surprised as he usually forgot the password to get in, was he that determined to not be in the same space as you?  Trying to not let the rejection get under your skin you shrugged softly, “One day Longbottom, one day.”  You weren’t necessarily surprised at Neville’s hate for you, one: you were a Slytherin while he was Gryffindor, which didn’t necessarily mean he had to hate you but there definitely was a lot of rivalry between the two houses, two: the big, unforgettable fact that you were Bellatrix Lestrange’s daughter.  Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the death eaters who tortured Neville’s parents into insanity, you knew about this as it was a fact that Neville would never forgive you for, you knew he didn’t necessarily hate YOU just the idea that you were Bellatrix’s daughter was what made him disgusted by you.  Ever since school first started you were immediately drawn to the quite awkward, clumsy boy from Gryffindor, not just because you felt awful for what your mother did to his parents, but also he just had an aura that made him unforgettable to you.  Every time he rejected your advances it hit a pang in your heart as if someone was poking the heart of your voodoo doll somewhere to cause you searing pain.  Neville didn’t know but you did visit his parents whenever you could, not out of charity or because you thought it would make you look good to Neville, but because you wanted to make up for what your mother did.  You wanted to somehow make up for what your mother did, although nothing could fix it, and eventually, you started to really like spending time with his parents and started to actually look forward to your visits with them.  

Next thing you knew in a week everything flashed by as Hogwarts started preparing for a war with Voldemort, or as most called him “The one who shall not be named”.  You were running around helping out your friends as much as you could, which was harder than expected as some held a great suspicion of you at the beginning especially Neville, sadly, thinking that you were working together with your despicable mother who was on the wrong side of the war.  Once the war started, however, people started to believe in your actions on how you fought bravely, protecting those you loved from Voldemort’s army.  Over the sounds of people shouting and some screaming blood-curdling screams on both sides as the life escaped their bodies, you heard the sound of your mother.  Her voice made your blood run ice-cold, as adrenaline pumped through your veins you ran towards the sound.  She was screaming something unintelligible through the noise surrounding you, blood pumping through your ears along with the soft ringing that ran through your head, probably from the hit you got earlier.  Pushing through you found your mother duelling with Molly Weasley, whom you saw as more of a mother figure than your biological one.  Mrs Weasley had taken you in as basically a second daughter once you left the reigns of your mother’s toxic brainwashing and insanity.  Seeing Bellatrix attack Mrs Weasley set a type of blood broiling anger inside of you that you had never felt as you stormed up.  “Bellatrix!” you shouted, your mother and Mrs. Weasley turning their heads toward you, Mrs. Weasley’s eyes widened with horror as you knew she was horrified at the aspect of you being harmed by your mother.  You gave her a reassuring nod as you walked up, head high and shoulders back, “I was wondering when you would show your face y/n darling.” Bellatrix said, eyes glinting with what you could only describe as pure madness as she took a defensive stance in response to yours.  “You don’t get to call me darling, you bitch.” you seethed, as she cackled softly, “Oh sweetheart, you can’t talk to your mother like that.”  She tsked softly as she waved her wand playfully as if reprimanding a child for throwing a tantrum, “You’re not my mother, you’re just a crazy bitch who can’t even think for herself.”  She cackled again, clearly not taking you seriously, “I’m not scared of you anymore, Bellatrix.”  She was about to respond until you took the chance and quickly pointed your wand at her and shouted, “Petrificus totalus!”  Her eyes widened as her body froze, limbs unmoving as you proceed with your spell, “Reducto!”  her body exploded into dust as you swear you could hear her wailing in your ears. As the action was finished you dropped to the ground body shaking as tears fell down your cheeks, “Oh, y/n, sweetheart.” Molly said as she came running as she engulfed you in a hug.  She whispered shushing noises in your ears calming you down as the hiccups decreased, “I don’t even know why I’m crying, I hated that bitch.”  Molly patted your hair down, trying to pat down stray hairs in a calming motion as she replied, “You’re just relieved, darling.  You finally don’t have that bitch of a mother looming in your life.”  You tried not to smile at the sound of Molly cussing as you hugged her back, “We need to check on everyone and the wounded.”  Nodding she gathered everyone as you stood there for a second, “Take that you bitch, guess I won this time.”  you muttered softly to the wind.  

As the war came to an end you looked around at the despair, people crying over loved ones and the wounded, you especially went around the Weasleys as Fred had died, although not related all of them were family to you and that broke your heart.  You comforted Molly as pain flooded your heart, the war was over and your turmoil with your mother was over and yet you would all still feel the effects of the devastation, and for what cost?  Sitting alone in a corner to catch your breath a finger poked your shoulder, you turned to see the tear stricken face of Neville, he suddenly wrapped his arms around you.  The only intelligible words that you could make out was, “I’m sorry, y/n.”  The sound of him using your first name melted your heart as you pulled him close as well.  “I know what happened with Bellatrix.”  he finally said, gulping to catch air.  “Yeah, she’s caused enough pain in this world, someone had to stop it.”  you patted his shoulder, “Neville, I know this probably isn’t the best time to say this but I just want to tell you before I regret not saying anything…”  You took a second to take a deep breath before continuing, “I-I’ve always loved you, Longbottom.  I don’t know why I love you.  My name is the one thing that causes you so much pain and yet here I am, falling deeper and deeper in love with you and I’m so s-sorry I never meant to love you I just wanted to make up for my mother’s actions and yet…”  Neville cut you off, kissing your forehead and staring into your eyes, “I love you too y/n.  I never meant to be so harsh to you throughout the years but...I just couldn’t accept the fact that I had fallen in love with the daughter of the monster that tortured my parents...and yet here we are.”  He glanced down at your lips before looking back up as if for permission, you nodded as you leaned in closing the space, “I love you, Neville Longbottom.  Please don’t leave me.” you sobbed out, shoulders shaking from the sobs of stress and despair from all the pain you had felt in the short span of the war that felt like an eon, as Neville pulled you closer, “I promise to never hurt you or leave you, Lestrange.  I truly love you y/n Lestrange.”