#neville longbottom imagine

[yasministration]

ok bestie I'm going to need neville x slytherin!reader where she defends him from a bully and he's like 😍😍😍 and then he brings her a special plant or something that can survive in the Slytherin dungeons as a thank you and then she sucks his dick in the greenhouse and absolutely blows his poor innocent mind

ilyyyyy 🫶

grim greenhouses - neville longbottom

summary: when you defend neville against your cousin, he is convinced he has to give you a little gift as a thank you. but what happens when you decide to thank him for his gift? wc: 2.1k+ cw: smut, oral (m!receiving), public sex (in an empty greenhouse), bitch draco

Neville knows you like arguing with your cousin. For entertainment purposes, to fulfil your family duties. But he definitely wasn’t expect you to begin an argument with your cousin by standing up for him. Nerdy, clumsy Neville Longbottom who had barely spoken three words to you all year despite being your charms partner.

“Why don’t you decide to pick on someone else, Draco? Someone who might deserve it?”

Draco scoffed, and you immediately knew he wasn’t going to go down without a fight, rolling your eyes in annoyance. “What, you don’t think Longbottom deserves to be mocked for his embarrassing failures?”

“What failures? Living?” You only realised your words had sounded more like an insult when Theo cackled next to you. You slapped his arm with a glare, and the boy apologised, but his giggles didn’t completely subside.

“Oh dear cousin, are you in loooove?” Draco mocked, a bullying grin on his face. You crossed your arms over your chest, raising your eyebrows sassily. “Maybe I am.”

None of the bodies in the crowd took your words seriously, rising with unanimous ‘Oooh’s’ to enrage your spoiled cousin. Draco broke out into a genuine smile. “Okay, I can’t take that seriously.” But you only stepped closer to Draco, gripping his wrist as you shot him a warning look. You lowered your voice, but Neville still heard you with full clarity as you asserted “I’m serious, Draco. Stop picking on him.”

Draco snatched his arm out of your hold, looking at you with a judging stare. “I’m starting to think you really do like him.” You watched Draco as he sped away with his goons by his side, spinning on your heels to look at Neville with an apologetic smile.

“I really am sorry about him, Neville.” You whispered, soothingly putting a hand on his shoulder before walking away. Neville was frozen in place, watching as you followed your friends out of the courtyard, heels clicking softly on the cement floor.

Neville was only torn away from his gaze when Luna put a hand on his arm, just below the area you had previously touched him. He shook her off, mumbling “I have to thank her.” But Luna was only surprised when he shot off running in the opposite direction, humming in wonder with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

Neville rushed over to the herbology greenhouses, walking past the intimidatingly large ones used as classrooms so he could nudge the door to the third greenhouse open. He welcomed the humid atmosphere of this greenhouse, shutting the door behind him. This one was different to the rest, harbouring more dangerous plants that thrived in dark atmospheres. Neville hummed, glancing up at the vines that wrapped around the windows and ceiling, shielding the delicate plants from the fatal rays of sun.

Throwing his jumper on the table, Neville loosened his tie and ushered his herbology textbook out of his book bag. He flicked over to a familiar page, reading over the description of a plant he already knew like the back of his hand.

The smitten boy didn’t need to read over the plant to know it would be his thank you gift for you. Neville rushed over to find an empty pot, adding soil, a few plant seeds, and just enough water to it before hiding it in the darkest corner he could find. Neville wiped the sweat off his forehead, leaving a streak of soil on his face, but at least he was satisfied.

In only a few days, the magical plant will have sprout, and it will be perfect for you.

The next time you found yourself packing your things up after an uneventful charms lesson, Neville shyly asked you “Are you busy now? There’s something I want to show you. Something I got you-well made you.” You smiled at Neville as he rambled on, shaking your head softly, but Neville already knew. You had mentioned enough times at the end of this same lesson that ‘I’m about the spend this free doing absolutely nothing.’

“Something you made for me? Like a gift?” You were grinning widely, following Neville out of the charms classroom and onto the hogwarts grounds.

“It’s not really much of a gift,” He started, clutching the strap of his bag tightly. “It’s more of a thank you, for standing up for me the other day. I know that he - Draco - is really important to you, so it means a lot that you stood up for me.” You slid your hand into Neville’s, tugging him back as you stopped in your tracks.

“Neville. That’s really nice of you. I don’t - I’m not nice for gifts. I genuinely think you deserve to be treated better. Draco can save his bullying for someone like McGlaggen.” The boy’s cheeks flushed a pale pink, and he ducked his head down, looking at where your hands held.

Neville glanced up at you, smiling softly before tugging you along the path.

“Come on.”

You began feeling uneasy as Neville led you towards the dark greenhouses, but you knew you trusted him. Neville wouldn’t hurt a fly. “You know, we tell the first years that Dumbledore is hiding a creature in here, like an acromantula or something. They dare each other to sneak in there and we follow them and make creepy noises. It’s really funny.”

Neville’s laugh shocked you, and you suddenly felt bad. You knew if he wasn’t in your year group, he would have been a victim of that poor excuse of a prank. “Don’t worry, I can confirm there are no acromantulas in there.”

“Even so,” You started intertwining your fingers with his. You saw the blush on his face darken. “You would protect me against it, wouldn’t you?” Neville nodded quickly, looking away from you to hide his shy smile.

His fingers untangled with yours, and he left you at the entrance of the greenhouse, rushing off to find the potted plant for you. You busied yourself with shutting the door of the greenhouse, then taking your jumper off.

Your shirt crinkled slightly as you pulled your jumper over your head, sighing quietly. “It’s quite warm in here, isn’t it?” But Neville didn’t reply, only appearing with a large purple plant that he had to peek around from the sides to see you.

“Oh Neville!” You gasped, reaching out to help take the plant from him. “Um, it shouldn’t really grow for a while. I didn’t realise it was so quick, but I guess it is quite dark in here. It’ll be slower in the dungeons, but it’ll survive.”

The plant thumped against the table as Neville dropped it and you giggled at the sight of the soil all over his uniform shirt. “You’ve got,” You started, wiping your hands down the boy’s shirt to get rid of the dirt. Neville’s stomach constricted underneath your fingertips. “Um it doesn’t matter.” You cut yourself off, pulling your hands off Neville’s stomach to throw your arms around him.

Neville stumbled back in shock, blinking quickly as he decided to return the hug, his hands lingering shyly on your waist. You pulled back, dragging your hands back over Neville’s shoulders to cup his face, bringing him closer to you so you could press your lips against his.

A surprised noise came out of his mouth, swallowed by your lips. Neville’s arms tightened around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer to him as he tilted his head to the side, trying to deepen the kiss. You parted your lips, running your tongue on Neville’s bottom lip, only for him to gasp, his mouth dipping open. Moaning quietly, you slid your tongue against Neville’s, who pulled away from the kiss slightly to push you back against the table, his eyes glued to your lips as he reconnecting them with his, kissing you passionately.

You pushed Neville away, lips separating with a wet pop. “Let me thank you properly, Nev.” You whispered, encouraging him back a couple of steps as you dropped to your knees. Neville gulped animatedly, shaking his head with a weak cry of “You don’t have to!”

“I want to… Do you want to?”

But your only response was Neville unzipping his trousers eagerly, his belt buckle clanging loudly as he pushed his trousers down his legs. You hooked your fingers in the elastic band of Neville’s boxers, pulling them down teasingly slow. As you wrapped your fingers around Neville’s cock, you glanced up at him through your lashes, wetting your lips with your tongue. Neville let out a shaky breath as you started stroking him, hand slowly pumping him up and down.

“Has a girl touched you like this before?” You teasingly asked at the look of his mouth agape. To your surprise, he shook his head no, making you gasp softly. “Better make your first unbeatable then.”

You licked his leaking red tip before wrapping your lips around him, humming when one of Neville’s hand came to the back of your head to steady you, fingers combing through your hair. You sucked softly on his tip, and Neville bucked his lips one with a broken moan, apologising for the movement as he pushed deeper into your mouth.

Taking it as a sign to move forward, you moved your head closer to Neville’s pelvis, taking his dick into your mouth inch by inch. You ran your tongue on the underside of his cock, watching amusedly as he shut his eyes tightly, throwing his head back with pleasure, mouth open in a silent moan.

Placing your hands on Neville’s thighs, you felt his muscles clenching. You began caressing him there as you began bobbing your head up and down, pushing yourself further down his cock every time you sunk down on him, causing loud moans to ring out in the humid greenhouse. His tip grazed the back of your throat and you felt tears gather in your eyes.

Neville’s hand closed gently around your hair, pulling you off his cock, and you gasped as both his hands gripped your collar tightly, pulling you up with as much force as he could muster. You whimpered as you stumbled up to your feet, placing your hands on top of his.

Neville pushed you back against the table again, pressing his body snugly against yours as he kissed you again, moaning softly when you reached between your bodies to wrap your hand around his cock again. “Please, I just - please.”

“Just want some kisses?” You teased, and Neville desperately nodded, pressing his lips against yours and forcing his tongue into your mouth as you sped up the pace of your hand on his cock. You squeezed the base of Neville’s cock before sliding your hand back up to the top, running your thumb over his tip.

Neville cried out loudly, his sounds swallowed by your kiss as you tugged him impossibly closer to you with your free hand. His hips thrusted up into your hand, cock shooting spurts of milky white cum all over your uniform as he broke the kiss, head dropping down to rest on your shoulder.

The boy took a long moment to recover, panting loudly as he caught his breath. You ran a hand through his hair, and he leaned into your touch, swallowing thickly as you moved your head to the side to kiss him softly on the temple. Neville finally lifted his head off your shoulder, placing both his hands on your hips.

His face was bright red, a shy smile finally finding its way onto his features.

“Thank you.” He whispered, eyes dipping down to look at your lips.

You grinned, leaning forward to peck Neville’s lips, giggling at the satisfied sigh that fell from his lips. The both of you stood there, embracing, until finally, Neville pulled away to tuck himself back into his trousers, finding himself suddenly unable to meet your eyes.

He found his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “Uh, let me help you with that.” He mumbled, rushing to lift the potted plant off the table. “Don’t worry, I can handle it.” Neville nodded frantically, turning around to rush out of the greenhouse with a “See you around!”

“Hey Neville?”

The boy spun on the balls of his feet, looking at you expectantly as he clutched the strap of his bag tightly.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

And with that the boy was taking long strides towards you and cupping your face in his hands to press his lips against yours in a sweet kiss.

“I really will see you around.”

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @juliet-017, @boromoony

[megwritesriddles]

hiii girlyfriend! i saw you were taking requests and was waiting if you’d consider doing a little drabble where it’s both your and neville’s first time and he’s way more nervous than you so you start to praise him to make him more comfortable and be ends up surprising both of you by being really into it

OR

a nsfw alphabet for neville

thanks and ily! i reread both your neville fics like all the time they’re sooo good!

MDNI 18+

thank you sm for this request and for your comments about my work :')!!! I chose to do the NSFW alphabet because I've always kind of wanted to do one. I did incorporate the praise a little (because Nev is definitely a praise kink kind of guy). I hope you like it!!

word count: 2.2k (i told you i might get carried away)

warning: smut obviously, brief mentions of periods

all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Neville is the biggest sweetie ofc. He makes sure to wipe you clean with a warm damp cloth, being extra gentle around where you’re sensitive. He’ll make sure you have water to drink and fetch you some food if you say you’re hungry (I can just imagine him humming to himself as he slices up an apple for you). And ofc loads of cuddles, which is just as much for him as it is for you, he tucks you against his chest and breathes you in, making sure to whisper all sorts of sweet words.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His - I honestly don’t know, I think whatever part of his body you say you like best, he will like best because you like it. I might say hands if he had to choose, I think he loves to touch you and hold hands with you and also gardening which requires a lot of steady hand work. But if you say you like something else best, then he’s highly suggestible to it.

Yours - Your eyes. He’s a romantic, he loves the way you look at him, the way they light up when you spot him across the room. And of course, the way they darken seductively when you want him, the way they flutter closed when he hits just that right spot deep inside you. He could stare into your eyes forever, picking out all the flecks of colour, the way your pupils shrink and dilate.

Ass or boobs? - I want to say ass (because I have way more ass than boobs lol) but something tells me deep down it’s boobs. But he doesn’t care what size they are, huge or barely there; he loves them. He also definitely does admire your ass too, he’s a big fan of both, but leans toward tits. I can see him loving thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I think he’s pretty tidy with his cum, he likes to cum inside (condom or not). I don’t see him as the type to splatter your face or tits or anything. If he doesn’t come inside you, it’s either on his own belly or in his pants (when you’re being particularly teasing or he gets too into eating you out).

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He just wants to be your good boy. He comes instantly when you first say it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

…. It’s Neville, let’s be real here. I mean, depending on when you meet him, I don’t think he’d be a virgin until like 40 but he’s definitely a super late bloomer in terms of sex, so probably a virgin or only has a body count of 1 when you meet him. He isn’t the type to sleep around, he has to really trust someone he sleeps with. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing but he’s a super eager learner, not afraid to ask for guidance until he’s a god at pleasing you. Memorises your body which makes him better at it than someone who has lots of experience with various people, it’s a personalised experience.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s a classic romantic and loves to look into your eyes as you have sex, so missionary is a fave. Cowgirl with you facing him is his ultimate favourite, he loves looking up into your eyes, embracing as you give into pleasure together, you being able to set the pace.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s serious but in a sweet way. If you make a joke he’ll laugh, but he’s unlikely to crack his own. He likes to whisper sweet loving confessions, so he stays serious, but once it’s over, he might be a little more goofy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He probably didn’t see any reason to shave or anything before the two of you started having regular sex. I can see him trimming intermittently, not for aesthetics but practicality. He’s a real man and doesn’t care about you having a bush, he prefers if you trim a little bit but it won’t stop him going down on you. I think he’d find it odd if you were completely hairless tbh. As long as you keep mostly clean he’s happy to brave the bush. (I feel like there’s a funnier expression for this but it’s not coming to me)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s a romantic sweetheart. He’s constantly praising and complimenting you, his arms wrapped around you in an affectionate embrace or his fingers intertwined with yours. He loves kissing from your forehead, down your temple and cheek and finally to your mouth as he slowly presses in and out of you. I think he’s quite slow and gentle as a general rule, liking to take his time with you, only getting a little frantic right before he comes. Kisses literally everywhere, all over your body, gentle and lingering. Eye contact is big for him as I said before, foreheads pressed together and noses brushing.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I can’t see him masturbating all that much, even before he met you. That’s not to say he wasn’t experiencing attraction or arousal, I think he’s just more horny for the emotional element (??? if that makes sense). I don’t think he’ll masturbate when you’re apart, just leaving it so he can feel even better when he finally sees you again. Before he met you I would say he got off once a week, letting most of his boners die in a cold shower or just with time (again it made it better when he finally gave in), especially during his Hogwarts years when he was sharing a dorm. He was more considerate than any of his dormmates. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Edging, praise (both of you receiving), a teeny bit of degradation (calling him pathetic or needy, nothing too harsh), being called a good boy, lowkey being bound by the vines of some magical plant as you use him to your liking (you didn’t hear this from me, this is only when he’s feeling particularly dirty, it isn’t on his mind most days)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s not one for exhibitionism so almost definitely just the bed, he quite likes using the sofa when he gets his own place but other than that he might occasionally do it in the shower, but he’s not a huge fan of it. He’s all about comfort so a plush surface in private is ideal.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You, plain and simple. When you give him a seductive look, when you praise him (even for something innocuous and unsexy), when you lean over and accidentally push your tits together or your ass out, they way you play with your hair, the way you bite your lip when you focus, when you use that soft sighing voice.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I can never see him being mean or rough. That’s not to say he’s always 100% slow and careful, he loses himself to the feeling sometimes, but generally he’s a gentle guy and it would break his heart to insult you (eg. whore or slut). He’s also not one for slapping or spanking I don’t think, maybe a soft swat on your ass, but nothing harsh enough to leave a bruise. Sorry to some of y’all, I don’t make the rules, he’s a sweetie.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Ooooh he’s a munch I just know it. He loves to pleasure you and he loves the taste of you. He could go down on you for hours (if only his jaw would cooperate). He adores the praise he gets, your hand in his hair, your beautiful moans, eyes squeezing shut, thighs around his head.

He quite enjoys receiving as well, it feels really good to be at your mercy. He’s quite whiney and sensitive, his hand gently tangling in your hair, but never pushing or pulling. The sinful way you look up at him as your lips are wrapped around him, it drives him crazy.

As I said before, at first he barely knows what he’s doing but he’s constantly asking for guidance until he can get it right. It’s second nature to him now, he could make you cum from it in under two minutes if he liked, but he enjoys drawing it out for both of your pleasure.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He really likes to take his time so he isn’t the biggest fan but he’s more than down if it’s the only option. Not that often as he would only do it if there was no other choice, often what starts meaning to be quick gets significantly stretched out. You’ve learned the hard way not to proposition him in the morning on working days, but for lazy Sunday mornings, he’s absolutely perfect.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Experiment a little, sure. He’s down to try most things if you’re into them (other than what I specified in No) but his preferences are reasonably vanilla. As long as he’s with you, he can enjoy it either way. You would probably have sex in a risky location once or twice and he would be so anxious about being caught that you wouldn’t do it again. However, if the danger is only being overheard, he doesn’t mind so much, happy to kiss you to keep the both of you quiet. It’s being seen that worries him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can probably come twice in a night with a reasonable cool down period, however, since he’s good at pacing himself and pleasuring you with other means, he can give you many rounds. Your sex usually lasts a long time. The first few times though, he absolutely comes prematurely.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I can’t see him being a toy person, but I think he’d be completely cool if you had a vibrator for when he’s away. Some guys get weird and jealous about toys, but he just wants you to be happy while he’s not there to take care of it. If you want him to use the vibrator on you while you have sex, he will.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t tease much, but when he does, he’s surprisingly suave and smug. It always makes you fold as it’s so rare. He loves being teased by you, having you flirting brazenly, sitting in his lap, brushing your hands up his arms, whispering dirty things, showing off your body, giving sultry looks. He adores it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man whimpers as I’m sure we all know by now. I don’t think he’s too loud, but it almost makes the little groans and whimpers he makes hotter as they’re all low and quiet, private just for you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I think he’d be quite willing to have period sex. He likes to help relieve your cramps by helping you orgasm and doesn’t see why he should be disgusted by something your body naturally does, so long as he washes up well afterwards. I don’t think he’d go down on you, but sex and maybe some fingering is still on the table. Of course, he only does this if you ask, he never approaches you for sex on your period, letting you come to him if you need him. He doesn’t want to make you feel pressured or uncomfortable, even if the way he usually approaches you for sex is already very sweet and without pressure.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

We all know that he’s hung, this is just an accepted truth in the fandom. He’s a little longer than average and definitely thicker, he probably has a slight curve. He’s also more buff than you’d think under his sweaters and cardigans.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I think he’s highly suggestible with his sex drive. On his own it’s fairly low (once a week as I said before), but with you it’s a lot higher. He’s quite in tune with your moods, and is easily seduced if you’re in the mood, so when you’re ovulating, his drive is higher too because you’re glowing and you keep giving him these damn looks. When you’re less aroused, so is he, but he barely ever says no when you offer. He approaches you first about sex maybe once to three times a week, the rest of it is up to you to initiate.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I think he definitely does get sleepy, but fights it off to be able to take care of you. The second you say you’re fine and don’t need anything else, he’s embracing you and dozing off. It’s another reason he dislikes public stuff or doing things on uncomfy surfaces, he gets very dozy afterwards.

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[mastermindmiko]

Neville Longbottom Mood board

Masterlist Neville Pinterest board

All of these pictures are from Pinterest and are not mine.

[longbottomlove]

first time || n.l.

warnings: smut!

neville and y/n had been dating for about a year at that point, nothing crazy. they’d shared little kisses and hugs, maybe a tiny make out sesh a couple times. the little bit of tongue, heavy breathing kind that every guy dreamed about having with his crush.

but she wasn’t his crush. she was his girlfriend. he loved her. and she loved him. it was simple like that. they’d never tried anything further than kissing because they didn’t need to.

neville tried to be the respectful gentleman y/n deserved, but a nagging problem was starting to arise.

every time they kissed for longer than three seconds, shared a close hug(the kind that had her boobs pressed against his chest), or even if y/n cracked a dirty joke to pull a laugh out from their friends, he had a boner. it was hard to hide and hard to make it go away. neville was a virgin and had no clue what to do.

and then there were the dreams. dreams about his girlfriend. dreams where she was kissing him, touching him, speaking to him in a hushed whisper, neville we have to be quiet. neville we’re gonna be caught. neville do you want me? neville wake up.

and wake up he would. every morning. sometimes he’d wake up to a tent in his pants. other times it would be a sticky mess he had to clean before starting the day.

worst of all was the guilt. godric, the guilt. thinking all of these foul things about someone who had no part in causing it felt criminal. it made him feel gross and pervy. he knew he had to tell you.

———————-

“uh.. y/n?” he forced out. “i..uh. i have to tell you something,”

this was it. the moment she would dump him. poor little neville who had finally gotten a girlfriend was going to be dumped. his heart was racing, palms clammy and shiny with sweat.

y/n followed him into his dorm, taking a seat on the bed like he gestured her to do. she was confused. so confused. was he gonna dump her, did he cheat?

“so what was it you wanted to tell me?” y/n asked, eyes glued to her feet.

“well,” neville started. “i’ve, i’ve been having these thoughts. and they’re gross and about you. and i dunno, i just had to tell you because ikeephavingdirtydreamsaboutyouandimsorry,”

“what?”

neville looked at the girl in confusion. like she couldn’t have possibly not heard him and he didn’t wanna say it again.

“i keep having dirty dreams about you. and im sorry,” he repeated.

a sharp silence overtook the room. she hated him now. she had to. he had confessed his disgusting thoughts to her. he was done for. would she tell a Professor? Snape or McGonagall maybe? would he be expelled for repulsive behavior? or would he just be laughed at by all her friends?

a painful minute of silence rushed through the room, ended only by a sharp cry of laughter. she was laughing! neville didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing but he soon joined in and began chuckling himself.

“oh my god,” y/n started. “i can’t breathe! i cant, i cant,”

after a good four or five minutes y/n finally looked up from her laughing position and looked at her boyfriend. “that’s normal, nev,” she said.

“what?” neville squeezed out.

“to have dreams like that, it’s normal. i’d be concerned if you didn’t have those dreams,”

neville was very confused to say the least. his thoughts were gross�� and here she was saying it’s okay.

“and like,” neville started, “every time we like, kiss and stuff, i get a- erm..”

“a what, love?”

neville vaguely gestured to his crotch, hoping she’d get what he meant.

“ohhhhhh. yeah… that’s normal too i think,”she said. neville was relieved to say the least.

it was nearing dinner time, and y/n had promised to sit with hermione and ginny during the meal. she pecked neville on the cheek and started towards the door. she was almost out when she heard a soft voice call out to her.

“y/n?”

“yeah, baby?”

“could you… maybe stay?”

[ibbythebee]

Hospital Wing Hermits

gif credit: @handknit on wattpad

pairing: Neville Longbottom x year younger!reader

summary: From Neville's second year at Hogwarts to his last, his most memorable times with you have been spent in the hospital wing.

genre: fluffiness all round, slight angst at the end... but only a little, slow-burny

warnings: this fic is so soft that you will potentially combust, slight swearing, SO MUCH hand holding, the reader is an oblivious goofball until she's not, kissing, talks about illnesses and injuries, blood and boogers

words: 6k

masterlist

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville's 2nd Year

Clutching onto Madame Pomfrey is nothing new to Neville. In the middle of the night, however, is a different story. The Nurse coos whenever the boy makes the slightest sound of pain, holding him up as not to put anymore pressure on his right foot.

"We're just about there, dear. Come on, just a few more steps..."

Leading him to the middle of the hospital wing's room, she then guides him onto an untouched bed, and immediately slides a pillow underneath his ankle. A spot of light on the opposite side of the room does not go unnoticed to either the woman or boy as soon as they had entered the room.

Neville rubs his eyes, squinting at the strange glowing mound of sheets. He watches as, with a sigh, Madame Pomfrey marches to the other preoccupied bed and pulls over the white covers to reveal you, a sheepish looking girl.

Under the light of your wand, your face looks puffy, lips and nose chapped, hair amuck. You cough into your elbow and smile a toothy innocent smile, batting your big eyes at the woman, silently pleading your innocence.

Pomfrey, however, does not play games. "Turn off that incessant light, Miss L/N. Do you realise what time it is?"

Your lips shape into a pout, voice stuffy as you answer. "But Madame Pomfrey, it's so boring here. I'm bored."

"No, you should be asleep. Turn that off right now. I don't want to have to send another owl to your mother about you refusing medical help."

"Just a few more minutes please? I'll finish the page I'm reading."

"Absolutely not. It's basic manners and respect for your fellow peer." She motions to Neville, and you finally turn to him.

Despite the fatigue in your features, your eyes seem to glow, piercing through the dark room. Perhaps it's just his lack of sleep or absence of light, but there is something drawing him to you and he fails to look away. Nothing comes out of his mouth even though he knows he's probably supposed to greet you, but neither do you.

A second longer you stare at your new roommate and in eventual defeat, you pout. The light from your wand fades, as you mumble 'nox' under your breath and get comfortable under the blankets.

Satisfied, Madame Pomfrey clears the rubbish bin underneath your bed and turns back to Neville handing him a small flask of some sort of healing potion.

"All right. Off to bed now both of you. Good night, dears."

You both mutter a 'goodnight', closing your eyes, gingerly pulling the covers up to your chins.

It stays mostly quiet in the room, apart from the Nurse's shuffling. Though as time passes, shoes click and click away, and then the door creaks shut.

"Psst!"

Neville stirs.

"Hey, psst!"

"Huh?" Is all Neville can manage, lifting his head with a groggy squint.

"What happened to you?" You ask in a loud whisper and sniffle. Sitting straight, and staring right at him. Your eyes really are big, inquisitive.

"Well I... twisted my ankle," he finally says.

"How?"

"I... I'd rather not say. It's embarrassing, really."

"I won't tell anyone," you say as-a-matter-of-factly. "You can hex me if I do."

He looks at you through narrow eyes again and this time it's your teeth that glow. As you show no interest in falling asleep, Neville's neck admits defeat and his head crashes back down onto the pillow. "Can we just please go to sleep?"

"I caught a cold... or maybe a fever. Runny nose—" you sniff, wiping your face with your pajama sleeve "—wet cough, high temperature. My mum says I have a weak immune system."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?" He comments half-heartedly to the ceiling.

"No, it isn't."

Silence. For a moment, he believes that you've finally surrendered yourself.

"So how'd you twist your ankle in the middle of the night?"

Never mind.

"You don't seem like a rule-breaker," you say.

He carefully shuffles up to sit and sighs. Where on earth did you get your energy from? He hadn't met such a talkative first year before.

Neville takes a moment to answer, debating on whether or not you're harmless enough for him to be vulnerable. "I had a nightmare, okay? I fell off my bed and... landed badly."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?" You echo.

"No, it isn't."

Silence once again ensues, but this time Neville's ready for your chatterbox mouth.

"What's your name? I'm..." You suddenly stop and he nearly laughs when your silhouette jerks and you sneeze. It's loud, like his Gran.

"Nice to meet you, Achoo." He chuckles, holding a hand over his mouth.

You sniff again, face hot in a new wave of humiliation, and this time you wipe your face with more aggression. "Hey, that's not funny! My name is — A-ACHHHOO!"

"Isn't that what I just said?" He can't help but laugh again. Relishing in the groan you emit and how furiously you blow your nose.

With a poke of your tongue, you retort. "Whatever, Mr... mm... Fall-out-of-bed...n-nightmare-broken-ankle-boy."

"Wow, that's really fantastic, Achoo." He slides back down into his bed, closing his eyes with content and tries to hold in his giggles as you continue with determination to clear up your mistake.

Initially, Neville thought he wouldn't even be able to get in a nap, but now with the understanding that you bark more than you bite, he creates a silly image of you in the form of a puppy. As your voice rings in the background, the puppy image barks with you, and he feels his eyes grow heavy, falling into a content and nightmare-less sleep.

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 4th Year

Ever since sleeping the night in the hospital wing, Neville knew he'd be seeing more of you. It was surprising to him that he hadn't noticed you before that night, especially seeing as you were such a social butterfly. And despite being in the year below, he'd always manage to catch your eyes in the Great Hall. And in the courtyard. And in the halls. And through a classroom window. You were everywhere and anywhere. And when you weren't, you were in bed in the hospital wing.

Just like you are now. The fourteen-year-old hadn't seen you for the past few weeks after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and needless to say, he had to see you.

And such a perfect opportunity had arose today, albeit a painful one, but an opportunity none the less.

Neville opens the door to the wing as gently as possible as not to wake you, however knowing you, you probably already were.

Entering the room, he clutches his sore hand to his ribs and cranes his neck to spot the nurse. Instead he finds your lying form under a mountain of blankets.

You stir, and Neville curses at his shoes for making so much noise. Sure, his intention of coming here was to see you, but he’d seldom seen you in such a peaceful state and didn’t want to ruin that for you.

“Neville?” He hears you say and then you’re facing him.

He smiles down at you, with a voice just as soft as silk. "Hey, Achoo. Didn't mean to wake you. How you feeling?”

“I’m feeling alright. Kinda headache-y, but fine. Ugh, what time is it?” You rub your eyes and stretch as you sit up.

The messiness of your bed-hair is incredibly endearing and the curve in Neville’s lips only grow at the sight.

“It’s third period.”

“Then… what are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

You’re suddenly on your feet, eyes round and wide, taking in the scene of the tall boy. He flinches, attempting to hide his hand in his robe sleeve.

You snatch his hand, bringing it close to your face. It’s a burn. All over the back of his palm. "Bloody hell— Where's Madame Pomfrey?"

"I was about to ask you the same question." A small chuckle falls from his lips as you examine him. Somehow, in some miracle he watches your big eyes grow larger as you twist his hand, move his long fingers to get as much information about his wound.

He feels like he’s going crazy, your touch is a new kind of burn on his skin. It doesn’t sting, but it is hot. And you don’t even know you’re causing it.

"She's always gone when you actually need her,” you huff.

"It's not as bad as it looks, really. Just hurts a little when I move it."

"What about when I...?" You drift off, as you slide a delicate thumb over his beet-red knuckles.

The tips of his ears turn the same shade of red. "Stings."

With no further words, he lets you pull him to one corner of the hospital wing, searching for a particular ointment on the many shelves of medical supplies. You don't let go of his hand, and he doesn't dare pull away.

"Let me guess how it happened—" you say, grabbing a round jar of blue gel to read the label.

"Seamus." You both state and then share a laugh.

Placing the jar back, you continue your search and Neville fills the comfortable silence. "It's Potions class. For once I thought I was doing pretty decent and then next thing I know, Seamus' cauldron blows up next to me and of course I get the damage."

His hand is held up to your face again and he watches as you grab a new jar with a less solid looking gel, creamy in colour.

"I suppose it's a good way for me to get out of the rest of the class," he shrugs.

"And get away from Snape," you quip and earn a chuckle from him. There was a time in Neville’s third year, when you had come to learn about his amusing boggart. He’d snuck into the hospital wing, claiming he had a nasty headache and ended up staying the night, neither of you getting a wink of sleep. It had also been revealed that the thing you were most frightened of was giants.

“Sit down,” your motioning to the mattress behind him.

He does so without question, still attached to you by your pinkie, making himself comfortable on the edge of a neatly tucked bed. He follows your every action as you place the ointment jar beside his thigh and open the lid. You scoop a teaspoon amount with your fingers and lifted his burnt hand again.

Before the cream touches his burn, you begin to tell him about what illness you've caught today and he barely feels the sting of the medicine. There's no better spell or potion to kill pain than your voice, that much was evident even back when he first met you.

Concentration laces your features and unbeknownst to you, your hips hit the edge of the mattress, unaware to the fact that Neville's knees are on either side of you.

The sight of you between him for some reason makes it difficult for him to swallow. The urge to trap you with his legs increases by the second. "Hey, Y/N?"

You wipe off excess ointment on your pajama top and turn your attention to him. He rarely called you by your first name. Something's up.

"Yeah?"

"Well, the erm... You know in a week or so?"

"Mhm?"

There's a pause as he searches your eyes for confidence, then he finally announces. "Would you say you're a good dancer?"

Creases form between your brows and you pout at the question, really thinking it over. If there was anything else Neville had learnt about you was that you always answered his queries with great interest and thought. You never treat his questions as though they're dumb, and he’s come to adore you for that.

As you ponder, he slides his non-burnt hand under yours, idly fiddling with your delicate fingers; tracing around the length of them, lifting them up and dropping them one by one, and eventually laying his palm flat on top of yours. Were his hands always this big?

The tips of your fingers tap-tap against his, as you finally answer. "I suppose... I would like to think I am."

"Well... that's good to hear."

"What about you?"

"Oh me?" He finds your face and swallows thickly. "I've been practicing lately, so I can only hope I've improved."

A giggle breaks free from your lips and it’s music to his ears. "Practicing? Whatever for?"

"The Yule Ball, of course."

"The..." The creases near your brows form again. "I've completely forgotten about that."

He squeezes a finger of yours. "So, no one's asked you yet?"

You sneeze into your elbow and then for a second time, and your voice becomes stuffy to the amusement of Neville. "Asked me what?"

"Asked you to be their date, of course."

"Oh. No." Scoffing. "Being stuck in here means no social-life. And besides—" You spin around quick to grab a roll of bandage, and gingerly flatten it over his burn "—who's gonna want to dance with someone who sneezes every five minutes?"

"I would."

"That's what I thought — wait... you would?"

In an effort to look nonchalant, Neville shrugs, finding interest in a bird that's flying near the window. The tips of his ears poking out of his shaggy hair are giving you a different response, they're blushing.

You finish with his wound and step away from the bed, fingers feeling cold when you let go of him.

Upon inspection of your medical handiwork, he smiles gently. He hadn't felt a thing. "Thanks for this."

"I... I can't guarantee that I'll be completely healthy that day," you say.

"The Yule Ball?"

You nod in an almost embarrassed way, as you fiddle with the collar of your sleeping clothes.

Neville just shakes his head. "The suit my Gran got for me has a lot of pockets so I’ll carry all your tissues for you. Or anything else you might need, I'll keep them for you."

"That'sssss.... ACHHU!"

"Bless you. So what do you say? Would you... want to go with me? Maybe? I promise not to step on your feet."

"Miss L/N?! What on earth are you doing out of bed?!"

"MADAME POMFREY!" You both exclaim, faces and necks feeling hot.

"Come on, dear, why don't you ever follow simple orders?!"

Mumbles of pathetic protest fall from your lips as the woman drags you back to the other side of the room. You knock into Neville’s knee on the way and so he’s quick to follow behind you with his own incoherent babble about the burn on his hand.

You're settled under the blankets once again and watch as the nurse's eyes bulge at the sight of the tall boy's perfectly cared for palm. She inspects the bandage, inquires about the pain and what the cause was, all while Neville can't keep the flushed look off his face.

"She— well... Y/N helped me out. It doesn't hurt anymore, I'm fine now, Ma'am."

As the said woman keeps a hold of his hand, she turns to you with daggers. "What did you use? A potion? Spell, perhaps? Mr Longbottom could have severe side-effects if you're not careful."

"He won't," you grin toothily as you did back in your first year and point to the shelf in the right corner. "I used the ointment that you gave Theodore Nott not that long ago. Haha, Nott not."

Neville stifles a laugh, and isn't surprised when the nurse doesn't question you further. You might be the only student that can get away with arguing with Madame Pomfrey.

The nurse's face instead takes the form of an appreciative and impressed expression. It's only natural that with your ‘weak immune system’, you've gained as much medical knowledge as you have colds and flus.

"I'll admit, you've done a splendid job with Neville. However, you simply cannot use whatever you like, whenever you like, on whomever you like. Next time this happens you need to wait for me to return, alright? Is that understood?"

Taking a glance at Neville's sheepish state, you sigh and nod in response.

"And Neville dear, don't encourage this behaviour. Especially not from Miss L/N."

"Okay, Ma'am."

She gives the boy a goodbye and immediately turns to you, a full on lecture spilling from her mouth. He isn’t supposed to leave yet, not when he’s just finally had the courage to ask you out.

Neville finds your helpless gaze behind the woman’s shoulder, and sends you a sad sort of smile before turning on his heel to get to the door.

"I-I'll go with you!" You yell.

The tall boy pauses, heart flipping at your words.

"To the Yule Ball."

There’s no stopping the grin that forms, and he finally nods after a second, hair shaking with the action.

Your eyes speak to him as your own smile appears.

Meanwhile, the woman huffs and puffs, cleaning the area around your bed. "Not in this state, you won't."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville's 5th Year

The last time Neville was in the hospital wing, he'd come to talk to you about his recent endeavours in Herbology and let slip that he's been secretly practicing defensive magic with a group of other students, being taught by none other than Harry himself. There was no doubt that you would also be trusted enough to join, however seeing as you were once again bed-ridden, it felt best to keep it a secret until you got better.

Now it wasn't a secret anymore, and each time he'd visit you'd ask him to put in a good word with Harry, with the group. Neville always said he would, but he never did, fearing that Professor Umbitch would eventually catch onto you and you'd have to pay the ultimate price.

Karma is an Umbitch, however, and now it looks as if the only answer to Neville's current predicament is to let you join Dumbledore's Army, despite all his worries and his efforts to stop you from doing that.

Today’s DA training has been cut short, due to the fact that the fifteen-year old is now incapacitated. Blood refusing to slow down from his nose.

Going to Madame Pomfrey would've required him to come up with a believable story as to what happened, so the next best thing was to send for you, someone who already knows about this secret group.

"Neville!" A Ravenclaw boy shouts, interrupting his thoughts. "Your Bogey Bug is here— ow!"

Someone smacks the kid, and then suddenly the Weasley twins are leading you into the Room of Requirement. You stand over him, adorning new pajamas he hadn't seen before.

"Hey Achoo," he weakly smiles. "Thanks for coming."

The DA gather around, as you crouch to his side and immediately take the cloth he's been holding to his nose. You make a face at him. “Oh Neville… what are we going to do with you?”

A fresh line of blood rolls down to his lip, so you let him leave the fabric there to sink it in.

"Keep your head steady, okay? Don't lean back, just let the blood flow for now."

"I think my nose might be broken?"

"Neville, I swear to..." your head spins sharply, and a few students flinch. "Who did this?"

"We were practicing stupefy," the familiar voice of Seamus answers and immediately your tense shoulders relax seeing his face emerge behind the twins. "I didn't mean to. I swear, Y/N."

"He really didn't mean to," Neville echoes.

You sneeze into your elbow and shake your head, palm making contact with your cheek. "See, this is why you should’ve told me about this secret army group thing so I could've joined and stopped something like this from happening.”

"I'm sorry."

You take Neville's hand again and lift the cloth, checking over the damage. There is damage, alright. You try not to make a show of wincing, fearing that the brown-haired boy would get anxious by your reaction, but his nose really does look quite out of sorts. Out of line. Broken.

He realises you haven't said a word in a while and smiles again, "you can fix, can't you, Achoo?"

"I told Neville I could treat him, but he kept refusing and insisted for your presence," Luna's soft voice interrupts as she crouches down beside you.

Someone amongst the crowd starts to coo and the tips of Neville's ears manage to turn beet red, more so when you turn your attention to him, expression unreadable.

Luna carries on, eyes focused on you. "He wouldn't let anyone touch him. Not until now, anyway."

"Okay!" A sudden clap startles even Luna, and you all turn to the perpetrator. Harry Potter's back is turned to your direction as he addresses the crowd, "I think we'll call it a day. Neville needs his strength and so do you."

The crowd murmurs, exchanging pouts and disappointed shrugs.

"Be proud of yourselves, you all did brilliantly today. Each and every one of you have improved. Next time we get to meet we'll continue with the Patronus Charm."

"What about Bogey Bug? How do we know she's not gonna rat us out?" A girl in Hufflepuff asks.

Neville sees you stand up, slapping a hand over your chest. "I swear on my life and the life of Neville—."

"Hey!"

"—that I will not snitch on this group or expose any of you. I promise to be loyal and keep my mouth shut about this."

Some faces don't seem convinced, as more murmurs and chatter erupt.

"She can be our nurse!" Neville exclaims, stealing everyone's attention. It's time to put in that good word for you. "We won't have to go to the hospital wing if Achoo— I mean, Y/N is here. She's really good at what she does. Plus, I accidentally told her about the army about a month ago and she hasn't told a soul since. I do..."

Your big eyes soften when he turns to you.

"...I trust her with my life."

"All right then," Harry claps once more. "All those in favour of Y/N becoming part of the army, raise your hand."

A few hands come up, whilst others whisper for a moment. One more, then four more, and then more hands raise faster than you can count them. You and the broken-nosed boy share grins, as you squeeze his free hand.

"That's it then. Y/N, welcome to Dumbledore's Army."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 6th year

Following the events of the previous year of school you and Neville had grown ever closer. Outside of the classroom you'd never be seen without the other. Inseparable. There'd even been a rumour going around that you were dating, but you always denied such claims and Neville could only comply. He hadn't yet told anyone about his feelings for you, although it seemed that those in his close circle were figuring it out on their own.

After having looked like a lost pygmy puff in the Great Hall, Luna found Neville and mentioned to him that you looked 'out of sorts' during class. He hadn't even asked about you. She just knew to tell him.

So, it’s only fitting for him to be by your side now, during lunch hour.

You’re shivering underneath all the sheets and blankets, and yet as Neville glides the back of his fingers across your forehead, you’re sweating as well.

“Hang in there Achoo, you’ll be fine in no time. The spell will take effect.”

You can only give so much as a nod, and groan when your lower abdomen tightens with a deep, stabbing ache.

“Shh,” Neville smooths his delicate fingers over your forehead again, tucking loose strands back to their place with the rest of your hair. “I'm here. Do you want me to distract you with anything?"

"Anything," you squeak, eyes shut tightly as if doing that would stop your cramps and make you fall asleep faster. "Please."

"Alright, erm..." He slides his tongue over his bottom lip and leans in closer to you, elbow pressing into the mattress. "I suppose I can tell you about a dream I had not long ago. You were in it."

"The Hippogriff one?" You tremble.

"No, this is a new one," he smiles when you meet his gaze, finding your fingers peeking through the sheets and taking them into his hands. "It's really stupid, as dreams usually go, but I really like it."

Your fingers are stretched out, as Neville begins to trace over your palm. First he draws a circle and you giggle a little at the feeling.

"This is me," he draws a triangle, "and this is you. It seems like any ordinary day, except you and I have the same classes. In the dream we're both popular. Everyone cheers for us when we get good marks, and even Professor Snape smiles at you."

"No way."

He laughs and traces a shape with lots of spikes. "Yes way. It really seems too good to be true, because there's even a moment where we successfully sneak out at night, we're just in our pajamas and we're watching the stars from the astronomy tower."

"I'm waiting for the 'but'."

"But — here comes the stupid part — you just start flying out of nowhere. One second you're next to me, the next you're just in the sky. I'm freaking out trying to reach for your hand, but you're just so calm about the fact that you mysteriously gained the ability to fly."

You're giggling again, especially as he slaps your palm a few times to emphasise the story. "Accurate reaction."

"And then it just ends with me being able to breath fire."

"What?" You laugh, brows pulling together in amusement. "I wonder what Professor Trelawney would say about that. What all of it might represent."

He draws a line on each of your fingers, slow and tickly. "If it's anything like I've been told before, it probably means bad luck."

"Well I was also in the dream with you, so we'll go through the bad luck together." To his surprise, you thread your fingers through his and squeeze. You're not trembling anymore, you haven't been for the past minute or so, and it doesn't feel like you're being stabbed over and over in the stomach.

"Think you can sleep now?" He asks, fingers hesitantly unravelling.

You nod, grinning at him, those eyes of yours finally shining as bright as they usually do.

"Want me to go get Madame Pomfrey?"

You shake your head. And then your arms are around his neck, head tucked in the space between your bicep and his jawline.

It feels like a millennium till he returns your gesture, arms securing around your waist and back, pulling you in tightly and desperately. The mix of the wing's clinical scent and the smell of baked desserts fills his nose. He could've sworn he'd smelt something like this during Potions class.

"Stay with me," you purr. "Please."

He knows he has class in ten minutes, he knows he can't skip, he knows he'll get in trouble.

So with your arms determined to remain wrapped around each other he bends over, moving till your head meets the pillow. He kicks off one of his school shoes. Then the other.

You feel his knees dip into the mattress beside your thighs, and then you have to part for a moment as he slips under the blankets, his head settling on the pillow right beside yours.

When he's comfortable, you take one of his hands and lower it until he brushes over your clothed belly.

Keeping the heat from entering his ears and cheeks is impossible, as his hand flattens over your stomach, shock evident in his features from your bold action.

"Could you keep it there?" You say, when you feel his uncertainty. "It'll help if the cramps come back." Your own hands smooth over his, trapping him there.

"I will." He swallows thickly. "Are you comfortable?"

You nod. "Are you?"

"Absolutely. Yes. I am."

A content breath passes your lips and you smile, all giddy like, at the ceiling. "Thank you for being here. For being with me always. For not making fun of me being sick all the time. Not calling me Bogey Bug. For... for just being you. For being my most favourite person ever."

"I could really say the same about you." Both your voices are barely above a whisper, seeing as your faces are so close together.

"Thanks Neville," you turn to him, and tap the back of his hand on your belly.

You stare at each other for a moment, and for some reason it doesn't feel wrong. It's not awkward.

Neville breaks the silence. "You... you know how everyone keeps saying that we're... you know going out?"

"Yeah."

Neville pauses for a second, you're staring so intensely, pupils large and beautiful. He tries to swallow past the lump in his throat and squeezes the material of your clothes. He can talk to you, he can ask you the question. He's battled against Bellatrix Lestrange before, he's been put in Gryffindor for a reason. He can ask you. "What do you say we make those rumours... not rumours anymore?"

The corners of your mouth twitch. "You-You mean... you mean like...?"

"Yes. Like that. Like... I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sort of way."

You don't say anything.

He continues, with a small bite of his lip. "Like... I'm completely mad for you and if I don't tell you now I don't think I'll ever get the chance to again."

"This... isn't a dream, is it?"

"Can I prove to you this isn't a dream?"

"Okay."

And it really feels like a dream, as his face leans in and you feels his lips press against the corner of your mouth.

"Did that help?" he whispers.

You twist around to lay on your side, guiding Neville's big hand up to your waist. "You missed, Neville."

"What?"

"You missed."

This time you both lean in, and this time Neville doesn't miss.

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 7th year

The last Horcrux has been destroyed, Voldemort's killed, the Death Eaters have fled. New life has been brought to Hogwarts, sun pooling through the shattered windows of the Great Hall.

People sit on broken stools, torn and ashy blankets, chatter quiet and solemn. A few people manage to tell jokes and liven the mood, others cuddle, kiss, crying tears of relief. Nurses scamper around tending to the badly wounded.

Only...

As Neville limps his way through the hall he desperately scans over the crowds only to realise you're not here. You're not by Madame Pomfrey. You're not by Luna either. Neville finds Ginny's tired but hopeful figure and before he can tap her shoulder, she's already turned to him with a gentle smile.

She shakes her head before he even has a chance to speak. "I haven't seen Y/N. Not since... well not since she took care of Freddie. 'M sorry Neville."

"No," he shakes his head and gives the girl a gentle hug when her voice wavers and her bottom lip quivers. "No, I'm sorry."

"You helped kill Voldemort. That's hardly anything to be sorry for," she smiles again as they part, softly pushing at his shoulder to leave. To keep searching for you. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for her."

Neville sends her a purposeful nod and turns to leave, the sword of Gryffindor still snug in his hand. At times he uses the weapon as a crutch, the pain in his everything starting to take a toll as previous rushes of adrenaline begin to fade. The only thing keeping him going is the thought of you. You and your sneezes, your messy hair, your often nasally voice, your big eyes and equally big grins. You.

He passes what looks to be remnant of the hospital wing's door, merely a pile of wood chips and metal beams now. He hears the distant tweet of a bird, the pitter-patter of loose rubble and someone's sneeze.

The sword clangs to the ground and he's sprinting. Neville rounds the corner of the entrance to the wing and he stops, breath heavy, vision blurry.

You're there, and you're already staring at him, your grin so large and your eyes even more so and you're holding onto something familiar.

"N-Neville?" your voice is soft and so stuffy and gorgeous.

"Achoo, good Godric." His sore legs carry him to your side, and you're running toward him, arms open. And then you jump and he completely forgets about how much pain he's in when he catches you.

You cling to his sweater, to his shoulders, to his neck, to his waist, squeezing him with every bit of strength you've got left.

He's grasping at your hoody, your waist, your hair, your skin, he's touching all of you, scared that if he'll let go you won't be there anymore.

"I love you so much," he says through a trembling voice.

You pull away slightly and return your feet to the ground, legs unwrapping from his hips. You crane your neck to kiss his jaw, and then you kiss his cheek and his other and then finally his lips. And it sets your heart on fire, full of adoration and care and relief. You don't ever want to stop feeling him here, his supple lips against yours, especially as his hands cup your jaw, reeling you in for more and more.

"I love you Neville," you cry when you finally have to pull away to catch your breaths. "Ever since I first met you. You and your twisted ankle."

He chuckles, tenderly wiping a tear from the apple of your cheek with his thumb. He scans over the room for a moment, as he feels your fingers come to dance over the dry trail of blood from his head wound.

"I don't think we're ever gonna leave this place," he says with a caress of your jaw.

Following his gaze, you giggle. Those beds you spent countless nights on, those countless concoctions and medical supplies you've had used on you, they're all here, scattered and battered around the room.

"That's why I came here instead of the Hall," you say, keeping one arm around your boyfriend's waist and unravelling the other to reveal an intact jar of creamy coloured ointment. "I'm so sorry, I must've scared you nuts."

"Scared me to death more like, but all I had to do was listen out for your sneezes. Turns out it isn't that hard to find you."

You poke your tongue out and he laughs. "That's so embarrassing. Always comes back to me being a Bogey Bug."

"Yeah," he smoothly pulls you in for an ardent kiss, "my Bogey Bug."

"You know what else I am?"

You're leaning against his arms that are wrapped around you and he watches as you take off the lid of the jar. Just like his fourth year, you use your fingers to scoop up a teaspoon of the cream.

"What? What else are you?"

You step out and take one of his hands, letting his palm sit over the top of yours. And then the cream is applied over the burns on the back of his hands. In spite of these burns looking way worse than his wound from Potions class back in his fourth year, the pain is still barely felt once the ointment's smoothed over. What's also killing the sting is looking at your breathtaking eyes. He's lost in them, distracted completely.

"I'm also your nurse," you finally say, wiping the excess over your hoody.

Neville's mouth curls into a smirk, snaking his arms around you again and pressing your bodies tightly together. "Well, nurse. My lips are feeling kind of sore, do you think you can fix them?"

You hum, eyes twinkling with mischief as your hands link behind his neck.

His gaze dips to your mouth, trying to fight the heat flowing to his cheeks and ears. There will never be a time when you won't make him nervous and giddy.

You mirror his action, eyes taking their time stare at his lips. "You know what, darling? I think I've got just the thing for you."

[tisayemate]

Merlin.

Neville Longbottom x Hufflepuff!Reader

FLUFF!!

Summary: falling for the clumsy doofus.

AN: this was inspired by what happened last night, I attended Grad night (which is my school’s little graduation party) and realised I really really like this guy who I’ve casually spoken with in class. He’s exactly what I’d want in a husband but there’s a lot of things in between anything happening for us so yea nothing’s going to happen… I guess I’ll just transfer the experience to our lovely Neville. Enjoy!

UPDATE: (2/1/25) I found out he has a girlfriend now. It’s not meant to be guys. But wtv, I trust that the Lord will send me a true man of God. 🥹 (I’m catholic, I don’t think I mentioned that before)

The new seating chart was a disaster, at least as far as you were concerned. Of all people, you’d been paired with Neville Longbottom, a boy who had a reputation for stumbling over roots—both literally and metaphorically.

You approached your greenhouse workstation, already bracing for frustration. But when you saw him standing there, sleeves rolled up, nervously fiddling with his trowel, he turned to you with a warm, crooked smile.

“Well, if it isn’t my new partner in crime,” he said, his tone light but tentative.

You tilted your head, unimpressed but curious. “Didn’t realize we were committing crimes in Herbology now. Starting small, are we?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Baby steps. First, we master Flutterby Bushes. Then, who knows? Maybe world domination.”

You snorted, despite yourself, and set your bag down beside him. “If this is your plan for taking over the world, you might need a better partner.”

“Maybe,” Neville said, eyes twinkling. “But I think you’ll do just fine.”

Your lips twitched, threatening to betray the irritation you’d convinced yourself you felt.

Today’s task involved transplanting Flutterby Bushes, which were sensitive to emotion and required a careful hand. Perfect, you thought sarcastically. A recipe for disaster with someone like Neville.

The first few minutes passed in tentative silence. Neville focused intently on untangling a particularly stubborn root system, his tongue peeking out in concentration. You rolled your eyes, deciding to take the lead.

“You’re overthinking it,” you said, reaching over to adjust his grip. Your fingers brushed his, and he startled, nearly dropping the plant.

“Sorry,” he said, his cheeks tinged pink. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “Just… here. Like this.”

He watched you carefully, mimicking your movements. “You know,” he began, a teasing lilt in his voice, “you’re not half-bad at this. I thought Hufflepuffs were all about caring for magical creatures, not plants.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave. Didn’t you flinch at the sight of a bowtruckle last week?”

Neville laughed, full and genuine, the sound warming the chilly air in the greenhouse. “Okay, fair. But in my defense, that bowtruckle had intentions.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Intentions? Of what, exactly? Poking you to death?”

“Hey, don’t underestimate the power of a well-placed poke,” he shot back, eyes sparkling with mischief.

The banter continued, and before you knew it, the initial awkwardness had melted away. Neville’s clumsiness was still there—he managed to spill an entire pot of soil onto the table at one point—but his easy humor and self-awareness turned every mistake into a shared joke.

“Merlin, Longbottom,” you said, brushing dirt off your robes for the third time, “you’re lucky you’re funny. Otherwise, I’d have ditched you by now.”

“Lucky me,” he said with a mock bow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But admit it—you’d miss me if I weren’t here.”

You opened your mouth to retort, then closed it again, caught off guard by how right he was.

Over the next few weeks, working with Neville became something you looked forward to. His wit and charm were understated but undeniable, and he had a knack for making you feel at ease, even when things went wrong.

When your Flutterby Bush began to wilt after a botched replanting, you felt a pang of frustration. “Great. It hates me,” you muttered, glaring at the drooping leaves.

Neville stepped closer, his voice gentle. “It doesn’t hate you. You’re just holding it too tight. Here.” He reached out, his hands brushing against yours as he repositioned the plant. “See? It’s all about trust.”

You glanced at him, startled by the quiet confidence in his voice. For a moment, the greenhouse seemed quieter, the only sound the rustle of leaves and your own heartbeat.

When the holidays arrived, you found yourself thinking about Neville more than you expected. At home, surrounded by family, you kept catching yourself smiling at memories of his quick wit, his awkward yet endearing mannerisms, and the way he could make you laugh even on the worst days.

By the time the Yule Ball rolled around, you’d realized something important: Neville Longbottom wasn’t just a good partner. He was… well, something more.

When you saw him waiting at the entrance to the Great Hall, your breath caught. His dress robes were simple but elegant, and there was a confidence in his posture that you hadn’t seen before.

“You clean up well,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“So do you,” he replied, his voice soft but steady. “Shall we?”

The dance was magical, but it wasn’t the music or the decorations that made it special. It was Neville—his warm smile, his steady hand on yours, the way he looked at you like you were the most important person in the room.

As the night ended, he walked you to the courtyard, the cool night air brushing against your skin.

The courtyard was quiet, the cool air brushing against your flushed cheeks as you turned to Neville. He stood close, his fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of his robe, but his eyes—soft and steady—held yours.

“You looked amazing tonight,” you said softly, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them.

Neville blinked, his face lighting up with a sly smile. “You looked rather… dashing tonight,” he said, his voice low but earnest.

Your cheeks burned, and you looked down, unable to hide your smile. “Oh, thanks,” you murmured, your heart racing. Butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

He tilted his head, watching you intently. There was something in the way your blush lingered that made his own nerves fall away. Slowly, deliberately, he reached for your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles.

When you looked up, his gaze locked with yours, and without a word, he leaned in. His lips met yours in a kiss that was soft and tentative, yet it sent a spark racing through you.

It was over too quickly, but as he pulled back, the shy grin on his face said everything. And for once, neither of you needed words.

AN: well, this is what I can only wish had happened. HES SO FUNNY AND AMAZING AND SMART AND SUCH A GREEN FLAG 😭MAN CAN COOK AND TOLD ME WOMEN IN POWER ARE HOT LIKE- bloody hell his future wife/husband is so fucking lucky 😭

[moon-lit-petal]

Believe Me

Neville Longbottom x Fem!Beauxbatons!Reader

Summary: 5 times Dean and Seamus don't believe Neville and the time He proved them wrong.

Warning: not proof read, possibly not so nice friends, Neville being totally in love.

Word Count: 5k

Notes: this takes place when they are much older, I'd like to think that moldy V doesn't exist and the triwizard tournament happens much later in their hogwarts career :) I tried to keep it as ambiguous

----------

The Gryffindor common room was a cozy haven, illuminated by the flickering flames of the fireplace that cast warm shadows on the maroon and gold walls. A rowdy bunch of Gryffindors lounged comfortably on the oversized sofas, laughter and chatter filling the air as they reminisced about their latest escapades at Hogwarts.

"Honestly," Ron said, a frown spreading across his face, "I don’t know what’s worse—having a crush or trying to figure out what to say when you actually talk to them!"

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Tell me about it. I thought I was doing well with Cho until I accidentally called her 'Hermione' in the middle of a conversation!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, a playful smirk on her lips. "That’s not going to help your case, Harry."

The boys erupted into laughter, the sound bouncing off the stone walls. Dean leaned back, his arms behind his head, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I can’t even get a proper conversation going. It’s like every time I try to flirt, I end up sounding like a complete idiot."

Seamus snickered. "Remember when you tried to impress that girl from Slytherin with your 'amazing' Quidditch skills? You barely made it through the first sentence!"

"That was one time!" Dean retorted, though he couldn’t suppress a sheepish grin.

Just then, Neville spoke up with hesitant confidence.

"I mean, dating isn't that hard when you're with the right person."

The room fell silent, a few eyebrows raised in curiosity. Ron snorted, breaking the stillness. "No offense, Neville, but what do you know about dating? You've never had a girlfriend before, right?"

With a half-hearted shrug and a giddy smile, he looks at his friends. “Well actually, I've been dating this girl for a little while now.”

"Wait, who is she?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"She’s from Beauxbatons!" Neville said, his voice gaining confidence. "Her name is Y/N. She’s really nice, we met over the summer when she was visiting some family”"

Seamus squinted skeptically. "A Beauxbatons girl? Come on, Neville, that sounds a bit too good to be true."

Hermione frowned, clearly disapproving of the boys’ reactions. "Guys, come on you shouldn't just dismiss him, I'm sure she's a nice girl Neville." She gave him a small smile, Neville could tell she too, didn't believe him

Ginny crossed her arms and chimed in. "Exactly. Just because you lot can’t seem to get dates doesn’t mean you should tear him down."

Ron raised his hands in mock surrender. "I’m not tearing him down! I’m just saying it’s hard to believe. Neville and a girl from Beauxbatons?"

Neville’s face turned a shade of crimson. "I’m serious! We’ve been writing to each other, and she even sent me a few drawings, she does portraits and sent one shed done of herself"

Laughter erupted around the room, the sound mingling with Neville’s embarrassed smile.

Hermione’s expression softened. "That sounds just lovely Neville. Maybe you could show us next time?"

Neville blushed even deeper. "I’m planning to! Well, I was… but they fell in the black lake the other day and got ruined..”

Seamus grinned. "Well, that's just a bloody shame, isn't it?”

"I swear! I'm not lying!!" Neville replied, sounding both desperate for someone to believe him and annoyed they would think he'd lie about something like this, to begin with.

Ginny smirked. "It's ok Neville, we believe you really."

The boys continued their good-natured teasing, but Hermione and Ginny shot them looks that conveyed they should ease off. Gradually, the teasing softened, and Hermione quickly sought to change the subject.

"So, what about that new potion Professor Snape was on about?" she suggested, her smile brightening, and at the mention of Professor Snape everyone groaned out a whine.

The conversation shifted effortlessly as they delved into tales of misadventures in Potions class, leaving the topic of girlfriends behind, at least for the moment. Laughter filled the room once more, but Neville couldn’t help but shake his head at his friends. He knows they mean well, and as long as he knows he's telling the truth, then they'd eat their words eventually

----------

The greenhouses were buzzing with the sound of shovels scraping soil and the occasional screech from a particularly unruly Mandrake. Neville Longbottom, expertly handling a Venomous Tentacula with gloved hands, chatted absently with Ron as they worked together.

“I was talking to Y/N the other day,” Neville said, his tone casual as he patted down the soil around the plant. “She gave me some really good advice on how to deal with these sorts of plants. Apparently, they grow some massive ones in the Beauxbatons greenhouses.”

Ron looked up from his struggle with his own plant. “Oh yeah? Beauxbatons, right?”

Neville nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, she said they have this whole section dedicated to magical flora that we don’t even study here. She told me about this method they use to calm them down, so they don’t snap at you when you get close.”

Hermione overheard and looked over, curiosity piqued. “Really? I’d love to read up on that. Beauxbatons must have a fantastic Herbology program. Did she mention any specific techniques?”

Neville smiled. “Yeah, something about using lavender essence mixed with dragon dung fertilizer. It keeps them relaxed but still healthy. I’m thinking about trying it on one of the plants here.”

Ron gave him a sideways glance, his expression caught between amusement and doubt. “You’ve got an answer for everything these days, don’t you, Neville? Y/N’s always helping you out, eh?”

“Well, she knows a lot about Herbology,” Neville said earnestly. “We talk about plants all the time.”

Harry, busy with his own re-potting, chuckled softly. “Sounds like you two have a lot in common, Neville. It’s nice to have someone who shares your interests.”

Hermione nodded in agreement. “Exactly. And Beauxbatons is known for their magical plants, so it’s not surprising she’d know a lot. What else has she taught you?”

Before Neville could respond, Seamus, who was struggling with his own plant a few tables away, joined the conversation. “Wait a minute, are we still talking about the mysterious Beauxbatons girlfriend? You’ve got to admit, Neville, it sounds a bit too good to be true. A French girl who’s an expert in magical plants? What are the odds?”

Dean snorted in amusement. “Yeah, Neville, no offense, but you talk about her like she’s perfect. She’s beautiful, smart, loves Herbology… I’m starting to think you’ve been reading too many romance novels.”

Neville flushed, but he shook his head. “No, it’s not like that. She’s real, I promise. She just… understands me. We have a lot in common.”

Ron patted Neville on the back, grinning. “We believe you, mate. It’s just hard to imagine someone who’s basically a Herbology goddess and happens to be your girlfriend. We’ll believe it when we see her.”

Harry, who had been silent for most of the exchange, gave Neville an encouraging smile. “Well, I’m sure she’s real, Neville. It’d be great to meet her one day.”

Seamus, however, couldn’t resist another quip. “Maybe she’ll show up with a rare magical plant to prove it, eh?”

Neville forced a smile but didn’t push the subject further. He knew they didn’t mean to be harsh, but it was clear that, despite their friendly tones, his friends still had their doubts about Y/N. He returned to his work, focusing on the plants.

----------

It was a typical morning in the Great Hall, sunlight streaming through the tall enchanted windows, casting golden beams across the long tables filled with Hogwarts students enjoying their breakfast. The scent of fresh bread, eggs, and pumpkin juice filled the air. Chatter echoed from all sides, students murmuring about Quidditch matches, homework assignments, and weekend plans.

Neville sat at the Gryffindor table, absently pushing his scrambled eggs around his plate. His thoughts were far from breakfast. He had been waiting for weeks now—hoping for a letter or, even better, a package from Y/N.. Their relationship had been going strong, though the distance often made it difficult. But lately, he'd mentioned her so many times that his friends had begun to give him knowing looks, and their teasing, though lighthearted, always made him feel a little self-conscious.

“Oi, Neville! You alright, mate?” Seamus Finnigan asked, nudging him gently. “You’ve been staring at those eggs for ten minutes. Something on your mind?”

Neville smiled faintly, trying to shake off his nervous anticipation. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… waiting for the post.”

At that moment, as if on cue, the familiar sound of wings fluttering through the air filled the hall. Dozens of owls soared through the enchanted ceiling, delivering letters and parcels to their waiting owners. Neville’s heart raced as he scanned the sea of wings, hoping to see something special. And then he saw it—a stunning, silvery owl with long, elegant wings gliding toward him, catching the light as it flew. It was unlike any owl he’d ever seen at Hogwarts.

The owl swooped down gracefully, landing right in front of Neville with a soft hoot. In its talons was a thick package wrapped in delicate lavender-colored paper, sealed with the distinctive wax crest of Beauxbatons. Neville’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he just stared at the package in his lap, hardly believing it.

“Blimey, Neville,” Ron said from across the table, his eyebrows raised. “That’s a fancy delivery.”

“Is that… from your girlfriend?” Hermione asked, looking at the package curiously.

Neville nodded, trying not to look too pleased. “Yeah, it’s from Y/N.”

His friends exchanged glances, but there wasn’t any teasing, just mild surprise. Neville had spoken about Y/N often, but she seemed almost like a mythical figure to them—this beautiful, mysterious girl from France whom none of them had ever met.

“That’s some owl she’s got,” Dean commented, leaning over to get a better look at the package. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one like that.”

Neville nodded again, feeling a bit self-conscious under their gazes. “She mentioned it once. Said it’s a rare breed from France. She’s… pretty proud of it.”

Seamus grinned. “Well, go on then, mate. Open it! Let’s see what she’s sent you.”

Neville hesitated for a moment, feeling all eyes on him. He knew they weren’t trying to be skeptical or mean, but he could sense the curiosity behind their words. His friends had never outright doubted him, but it was clear that after months of hearing about Y/N and not seeing any proof, they were a bit… unsure. Still, there was no mockery in their faces—just genuine interest.

With a deep breath, Neville carefully broke the wax seal and unwrapped the package. Inside was a beautifully embroidered scarf in the deep blue and silver colors of Beauxbatons, along with a folded letter. The scarf was soft, clearly handmade, and it smelled faintly of lavender.

“Wow,” Hermione said, leaning in closer. “That’s lovely, Neville. She made this for you?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Neville said quietly, running his fingers over the delicate stitches. “She’s been learning how to embroider. I, um… mentioned I needed a new scarf for winter, and I guess she remembered.”

Ron nodded appreciatively. “That’s impressive. Not many people make things like this anymore.”

Harry smiled from beside him. “Looks like she really cares about you, Neville.”

Neville smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the scarf. It felt good to hear that—not just because it was true, but because it seemed like, for once, his friends weren’t doubting him.

But then Seamus, ever the joker, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You’ve got to admit, though, Neville—it’s almost too perfect. A hand-embroidered scarf? From a Beauxbatons girl who sends you packages by a rare French owl? It’s like something out of a storybook.”

Neville laughed, shaking his head. “I know it sounds a bit… unbelievable, but I swear it’s true. She’s real.”

Dean, who had been eyeing the letter, grinned. “Well, if she keeps sending you things like this, we’ll start believing in miracles.”

Hermione shot Dean a disapproving look, but Neville chuckled along with the others. It wasn’t mean-spirited—they were just having fun. He didn’t mind the light teasing, especially now that he had proof to show them. And even if they found it hard to believe, they weren’t questioning him outright, just amused at the unlikely situation.

“That’ll be the day,” Ron said with a grin, though he quickly added, “But hey, She sounds great.”

Neville folded the scarf carefully and slipped it into his bag, feeling a little lighter. “She is.”

As the conversation shifted back to Quidditch and schoolwork, Neville glanced down at the unopened letter in his hands. He could read it later, in private. For now, he felt content knowing that, whether his friends believed him or not, Y/N was real—and she cared about him enough to send something as special as this.

Even if they still found it hard to imagine, that was enough for Neville. And maybe, just maybe, one day soon, his friends would get to meet her and see for themselves that she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. But until then, he’d hold on to the scarf, the letter, and the quiet certainty that she was thinking of him as much as he was thinking of her.

----------

The Gryffindor common room was quieter than usual, the usual hustle and bustle replaced with a mellow atmosphere as the school year drew to a close. Most of the students had already packed their things, their trunks neatly stacked and waiting by the fireplace. The chairs around the room were occupied by groups of friends chatting, playing games, or simply lounging around, savoring the last few moments before heading home for the summer.

Neville sat with Seamus, Dean, and a couple of other Gryffindors near the windows, gazing out at the grounds. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow on the stone walls.

“I can't believe the year’s over already,” Dean said, leaning back in his chair. “Feels like we were just getting back from Christmas break.”

“Yeah, crazy,” Seamus agreed, his tone relaxed. “But I’m not going to miss the essays.”

Neville, absently fiddling with his wand, smiled. “I was telling Y/N about how busy it’s been. She’s had a lot going on too. The end of the year at Beauxbatons is apparently just as hectic as here.”

Seamus shot him a quick glance, his expression neutral, though Dean exchanged a brief look with him. “Y/N, huh?” Seamus said, not missing a beat. “Sounds like she’s got it rough over there.”

Neville nodded, completely unaware of Seamus’s inner skepticism. “Yeah, she’s been swamped. But we’re planning to meet up over the summer. She might even come to England for a bit.”

“That’s great, mate,” Dean chimed in, his voice casual though he raised his eyebrows slightly.

Neville stood up suddenly as if remembering something important. “Oh no! I forgot to pack my Astrronomy textbooks. I’ll be right back.”

With that, he hurried off to his dorm room, leaving the rest of them sitting there. The moment Neville was out of earshot, Seamus turned to the others with an exaggerated sigh.

“Alright,” Seamus said, leaning forward. “I like Neville, you all know that, but I’m telling you, there is no way Y/N exists.”

Dean grinned, leaning in as well. “You’re still stuck on that?”

Seamus shrugged, but the look on his face said he was convinced. “Come on, Dean. You’ve heard him talk about her for months—perfect French girlfriend from Beauxbatons who just happens to love magical plants as much as he does? I mean, sure, it could be true, but she’s never sent a picture, she’s never visited Hogwarts, and the only proof we’ve got are a few letters that could be from anyone.”

One of the younger Gryffindors, who had been listening in, piped up. “So, you think Neville’s lying? He doesn’t seem like the type to make something like that up.”

Seamus shook his head quickly. “No, I don’t think he’s lying, not really. I think he believes it. But I’m just saying—it sounds like he’s being catfished. It’s not like he’s met her in person since they started writing. For all we know, it could be some bloke from Durmstrang having a laugh.”

Dean chuckled. “You reckon someone’s really going that far to mess with Neville? That’s pretty dedicated.”

Seamus leaned back, his arms crossed. “Look, I’m not trying to be mean. I just don’t think she’s real. Or if she is, maybe she’s not exactly what Neville thinks. It’s just a bit… convenient, isn’t it? All these grand stories, but no one’s ever seen her.”

One of the girls nearby, who had been half-listening, frowned. “But Neville doesn’t seem like he’s making it up. He talks about her like she’s the real deal.”

“I know, that’s what makes me feel bad about doubting him,” Seamus admitted. “But you’ve got to admit it’s a bit suspicious. Every time she’s supposed to visit, something comes up. She’s ‘too busy,’ or ‘there’s something going on at Beauxbatons.’ It’s been almost a year and still no sign of her.”

Dean raised a hand to stop Seamus. “Alright, alright. But what if she is real and just… busy?”

Seamus snorted softly, though his tone was lighter. “Then she’s the busiest girlfriend in the world. Look, I’m not saying I’d tell Neville to his face that I don’t believe her. The poor bloke would be crushed. But between us… I just don’t see it.”

There was a brief lull in the conversation, and Seamus’s words hung in the air. The group seemed divided—some more skeptical, others wanting to believe in Neville’s story.

“Maybe she’ll surprise us,” one of the younger students said. “Maybe she’ll show up next year and you’ll all feel silly.”

Seamus grinned, though his expression remained doubtful. “If she shows up, I’ll buy Neville a drink. But until then… I’m betting we’re in for another year of stories about a girl we’ll never meet.”

As they laughed and talked, the door to the boys’ dormitory creaked open, and Neville came back down the stairs, his arms full of books.

“Found them,” Neville said, smiling as he returned to his spot by the window. “I almost forgot the Mooncalf studies Y/N recommended too.”

Seamus caught Dean’s eye but quickly smiled at Neville. “Glad you found everything, mate. All set for the summer, then?”

“Yeah,” Neville said, sitting down and looking a little wistful. “Just can’t wait to see her.”

Seamus nodded, his tone friendlier now. “Hope it all works out, Nev.”

As the conversation moved on to other things, the quiet skepticism lingered, but none of them had the heart to say anything to Neville directly. As much as they doubted Y/N’s existence, they couldn’t bring themselves to crush Neville’s enthusiasm. They just hoped, in their own way, that somehow, Y/N would turn out to be real after all.

----------

The Hogwarts Express rattled along the tracks, carrying its excited students back to school for another year. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional call of a vendor selling sweets filled the air as students reunited after the summer holiday, exchanging stories and catching up on the latest news.

In one of the compartments, Neville sat with Seamus, Dean, and a few other Gryffindors, a wide grin on his face as he animatedly recounted his summer adventures.

“… and then we went to this amazing garden in Kew! She couldn’t believe how many magical plants were hidden in plain sight. I’ve never seen her so excited,” Neville said, his eyes sparkling as he spoke about Y/N for the umpteenth time since they’d boarded the train.

Seamus leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, nodding along. “That sounds pretty great, Neville. So, you finally got to go on a proper date, huh?”

Neville beamed. “Yeah! We went on a few, actually. We had the best time. She was in London visiting her family for a couple of weeks, so we got to meet up almost every day.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, curious. “You said she was visiting family before, right? Didn’t she have plans to stay longer?”

“Yeah, she did,” Neville admitted, his tone dropping slightly, “but something came up. Her family had to leave earlier than expected, so she didn’t get to meet you guys like we’d planned.” He looked apologetic as he said it, clearly disappointed that his friends hadn’t been able to meet Y/N again.

“That’s too bad,” Dean said, sharing a glance with Seamus. “We were looking forward to it.”

“Yeah, me too,” Neville sighed, but then perked up again. “But we did take loads of pictures! I wanted to show you all, but… uh…” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “She took the photos with her by accident when she left. We were using her camera, and she packed it with all her stuff.”

Seamus blinked, his expression carefully neutral. “So, no pictures?”

Neville shook his head, he saw the clear skepticism beneath Seamus’s question but brushed it off. “No, but she’s going to send them by owl as soon as she can. She promised. There were some really good ones too—us in front of the Leaky Cauldron, at Kew Gardens, and a few near the Tower of London. I can’t wait to show you all.”

Seamus exchanged another glance with Dean, a small smile tugging at his lips, though he kept it from looking too patronizing. “Sounds like it was a great time, mate.”

“Oh, it was,” Neville said earnestly. “Y/N’s amazing. We even talked about coming up with ways to visit more often during the year. Maybe meet up during the Hogsmeade weekends. I’m going to send her a letter as soon as we get back to Hogwarts.”

Seamus nodded along, though his smile faltered slightly. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Dean shifted in his seat, glancing out the window for a moment before leaning forward. “So, Neville, you said her family comes to London often, right? Does she have a lot of family here?”

“Her dad’s English,” Neville explained. “Her mum is French, so they stay over there most of the time but they come back to visit every summer, and sometimes during the holidays. That’s how we managed to spend so much time together.”

Dean nodded slowly, while Seamus leaned forward just a little. “And you didn’t think to borrow one picture, maybe a keepsake for yourself?” he asked lightly. There was no malice in his voice, but there was an unmistakable undertone of doubt.

Neville ignored it. “I didn’t need to. We’ve been writing so much, and she’s going to send the pictures soon. Besides, I’ve got her letters, and I brought back a few things we picked up together. Look.” He pulled out a small, intricately woven bracelet from his bag. “We got these matching bracelets from a little magical shop near Diagon Alley. Hers has a charm for luck, and mine’s for protection.”

Seamus studied the bracelet for a moment before leaning back. “That’s nice, Neville.”

Dean smiled at the bracelet, genuinely trying to be supportive. “Yeah, it looks great. You two must’ve had a good time.”

“We did,” Neville replied, relaxing now that he was surrounded by his friends. “She’s just… brilliant. I really wish you could’ve met her. I know you’d all get along.”

Seamus offered a friendly smile, though his eyes flickered with doubt. “Yeah, maybe next time, Neville.”

The compartment grew quiet for a moment, and the sound of the train clacking along the tracks filled the space. Outside, the countryside whizzed by in a blur of green fields and distant hills, and the feeling of excitement for the new school year was still palpable.

Dean, always the diplomat, broke the silence. “Well, I’m glad you had a good summer, Neville. Hopefully next time, the timing will work out better.”

Neville nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’m sure it will. She really wants to meet you all. She’s heard so much about you.”

Seamus shot Dean a look, and Dean just shrugged, his face carefully neutral. No one wanted to say it, but the story about Y/N was starting to sound a bit too convenient—another summer gone by, another set of plans that didn’t quite line up. And now, no photos to show for it, either.

But despite their growing doubts, Seamus and Dean weren’t about to crush Neville’s enthusiasm. Not after he had spent the entire train ride practically glowing with happiness. Still, once Neville got up to stretch his legs and grab some snacks from the trolley, Seamus leaned toward Dean with a raised eyebrow.

“So… still no Y/N, huh?”

Dean chuckled quietly. “Still no Y/N.”

“I swear, if she’s real, I’ll eat my own shoe,” Seamus muttered under his breath. “Every time he gets close to introducing her, something comes up.”

Dean glanced out the window again before replying. “I don’t know, Seamus. Maybe she’s real, but there’s just bad timing. Or maybe…”

“Maybe she’s in his head,” Seamus finished, his tone soft but resigned. “I just don’t get how one person could have this much bad luck when it comes to us meeting her.”

Dean shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “At this point, I just hope for Neville’s sake that she’s real. You can see how much he cares about her.”

“Yeah,” Seamus sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I hope so too.”

When Neville returned with a handful of Chocolate Frogs and a Butterbeer, his smile was as bright as ever, blissfully unaware of the quiet conversation that had just passed between his friends. And as the Hogwarts Express continued its journey, his thoughts were already on the letters he’d be sending to Y/N once they arrived at school.

----------

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was buzzing with excitement. The start of a new school year always brought surprises, but this time, there was something different in the air. The students were seated at their house tables, eagerly awaiting the feast, when Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat to address the hall.

“Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts!” Dumbledore’s voice echoed throughout the room, immediately capturing everyone’s attention. “I am particularly pleased to announce that this year, we will be hosting a most extraordinary event… the Triwizard Tournament!”

A murmur spread through the hall, rippling with whispers and shocked expressions. Neville, seated at the Gryffindor table with Seamus, Dean, Harry, Hermione, and Ron, exchanged confused glances with the others.

“Triwizard Tournament?” Dean muttered. “That wasn’t in the usual announcements.”

“Yeah, didn’t see that coming,” Seamus added, leaning in to hear more.

Dumbledore continued, explaining the rich history of the tournament, how it had been revived, and the prestigious honor of being chosen as a champion. Then, with a wave of his hand, he motioned to the entrance of the hall.

“And now, may I introduce our esteemed guests from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute.”

The heavy doors at the end of the hall swung open, and the students of Beauxbatons Academy entered. They moved with grace and poise that captivated everyone, wearing their sky-blue silk robes as they marched in perfect unison. Neville’s heart raced as he scanned the group, but he couldn’t spot Y/N among them.

“Who are they?” Harry asked, squinting to get a better look.

“I don’t know,” Hermione replied, intrigued. “But they look amazing.”

“They’re all so… elegant,” Ron said, trying to take it all in. “Do you think they’re all that good-looking?”

“Probably,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes playfully.

As the Beauxbatons students completed their entrance, Neville’s heart dropped when he didn’t see Y/N. Just when he thought he might be imagining things, she stepped forward, performing acrobatic flips and graceful spins, her hair flowing behind her like a cascade of river waves. She looked more stunning than Neville could ever have described.

“Bloody hell, who is that?” Dean whispered, eyes wide in disbelief.

Seamus was staring, frozen in place. “No way…”

When the introductions were done, Neville leaned closer to his friends. “That’s her! That’s Y/N!”

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing between Neville and the group. “Wait, who’s Y/N? Which one?”

Neville pointed toward Y/N, who was beaming with joy alongside her classmates. “The one in the front! I didn’t know she was coming!”

The others turned to look, their expressions shifting from curiosity to disbelief. “No way!” Ron exclaimed, glancing at Neville. “You weren’t joking about her being real?”

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “She’s absolutely brilliant!”

Before anyone could say another word, a voice called out from across the hall.

“Neville!”

Neville’s head snapped up, and there she was, weaving through the crowd, her face lighting up when she spotted him. “Y/N!” he breathed.

The next thing he knew, Y/N was rushing toward him, a wide smile on her face. “Neville!” she called again, and in an instant, she was there, throwing her arms around him.

Without hesitation, she began planting kisses all over his face—on his cheeks, forehead, and nose—her laughter bubbling up as she clung to him. “I’ve missed you so much!” she said between kisses.

The entire Gryffindor table stared in stunned silence. Seamus’s mouth was hanging open, while Dean could only blink in disbelief. All around the hall, students who had been casually talking or laughing stopped to watch the unexpected display. Whispers started spreading like wildfire, but Neville didn’t care—he was too overjoyed, too caught up in the moment.

“Y/N!” Neville finally managed to say, his face flushed from the attention. “I—I missed you too! I didn’t know you were coming! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N giggled and pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her hands still resting on his shoulders. “I wanted to surprise you, silly. You should’ve seen your face when I came in!” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Neville was too overwhelmed to respond properly. His heart felt like it was about to burst from happiness. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, grinning ear to ear.

“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” Y/N said softly, wrapping her arms around him again in a tight hug.

The Gryffindor table was still frozen in place, watching the entire scene unfold with wide eyes. Seamus finally found his voice and leaned toward Dean, whispering, “Well… that is not what I expected at all...”

Dean shook his head in disbelief. “You’re not the only one, mate.”

Y/N finally pulled away from Neville, her smile never fading. She glanced around at his friends, who were still recovering from the shock. “You must be Neville’s friends,” she said brightly, offering them a cheerful wave. “It’s so nice to finally meet you all!”

“Y-Yeah, we’ve heard… a lot about you,” Dean stammered, offering a friendly, albeit awkward smile.

Y/N laughed, completely oblivious to the lingering disbelief. “I hope all good things!”

“Definitely,” Seamus managed to say, shooting Neville a look that was a mixture of awe and apology. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Y/N.”

As the rest of the Great Hall resumed their chatter, Neville stood there with Y/N by his side, his face glowing with pride. After a year of doubt, teasing, and skepticism, here she was—real, vibrant, and wonderful.

For once, Neville didn’t need to say anything. His friends finally believed him.

[kyber-crystal]

the alchemy || n.l.

summary: there’s a special sort of alchemy that’s involved in falling in love and finding the ‘one.’ luckily, you don’t need to try so hard—he’s already out there waiting.

words: ~3k

warnings: just loads of cheesiness and fluff 

a/n: took inspo from the amortentia scene in hbp if ya couldn’t tell, but basically this is set in their “eighth year” so they’ve come back after the battle. hell yeah neville glow up and EVERYONE IS ALIVE! except moldy voldy and his minions duh

“Y/N, you’ve done it again,” Hermione sighed. You blinked your eyes open to see her perched at the edge of your bed, a concerned look on her face. “How many times have I told you not to do this?”

“What do you—oh…” You looked down to where she had taken your wrists—which were marked by bright red half-moon shapes from you digging your nails into them—into her hands. 

She sighed, muttering a quick healing spell under her breath. You watched with curiosity as the scarlet marks began to sew themselves up and leave behind a layer of fresh, healed skin. 

Twisting your hands this way and that, you flashed her a grin. “You’re the best, Hermione. What would I ever do without you.”`

“You’d be dying, of course,” she rolled her eyes. “Now get out of bed and leave that nap behind. You’ve got Potions in ten minutes and a match to win this afternoon.”

“I’m tired,” you groaned, throwing an arm across your face. “I don’t want to get up. It’s so early. I didn’t come back here to wake up at the butt crack of dawn to study even more.”

“You’re going to be late to class.”

“I don’t care.”

You groaned again when she forcibly yanked the blankets off your body and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of bed. “Now change. I’m not going to repeat myself.”

“Yes mum,” you exhaled, reluctantly changing and slinging your bag over your shoulder afterward. “Let’s go.”

You had barely made it to class in time, rushing to find an empty seat—Hermione took hers next to an equally tired-looking Harry and Ron, and Neville waved you over, so you sat down next to him. 

Neville smiled at you genially. “Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

“Stayed up till 4 a.m. finishing two essays, but what else is new,” you whispered. “And you?”

“I had Herbology class right before this,” he whispered back, a proud look in his eyes. “Got a lot done, as per usual.”

You smiled back. “That’s amazing! You said that you were thinking of coming back here and teaching, right?”

He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, surprised that you’d remembered what he said. “Well, yeah…still got a few more classes to take, though, so I’m here for the rest of fall term, and a little after the holidays.”

Turning your attention back to Slughorn, who had just begun to speak, you took your copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of your bag. 

“Now, this potion right here, I’m sure we’re all familiar with at this point. So can someone…” Hermione’s hand shot in the air immediately at Slughorn’s question, “...yes, please do tell.”

“Amortentia,” Hermione answered immediately, looking over at you and grinning.

“...It’s the most powerful love potion in the world,” you finished her sentence. “But it doesn’t really create love, it just causes a powerful infatuation or obsession of sorts. It’s impossible to manufacture true love.” 

“Quite right, ladies,” said Slughorn. “You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinct mother-of-pearl sheen?”

“And the steam rising in characteristic spirals,” said Hermione enthusiastically, “and it’s supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us.”

Slughorn then asked you two to describe to the class what it was you smelled in the potion.

“I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and —” But Hermione turned slightly pink and did not complete her sentence.

“Miss Y/L/N?” Slughorn turned to you. “Can you tell us what it is that you smell, please?”

“Well,” you cleared your throat, stepping closer to the gleaming gold cauldron. “a burning fireplace, fresh laundry, broomsticks, and…”

Like Hermione, you were unable to finish your sentence, feeling your face burn as you realized what it exactly it was you were smelling—some mix of freshly grown berries and mint from spending hours in the Herbology greenhouses. The same smell radiating off the kind faced young man sitting right next to you. You slowly lowered your hand and sat back down. 

“Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor for each of you,” Slughorn said. “Now, it’s time for us to get to work.” 

You had no idea how you didn’t completely ruin your potion given that you spent half the time daydreaming about anything but brewing it. Neither you nor Neville were the greatest at Potions, despite having passed your OWLs for them.

“OI!” Ron not-so-quietly whisper-yelled from across the classroom. “Quit staring at each other with those heart-eyes and get to work!”

“Sure, Hermione the 2nd.” 

You rolled your eyes, turning away in an attempt to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. Neville immediately did the same thing and stopped reading the instructions under his breath, opting to say them quietly inside his head instead.

“And you’d think that a war would give them the balls to say how they truly feel!” Hermione exclaimed as you walked out of class, heading to the library together. “I mean, how could someone be so clueless?”

“Who are you even talking about?” you questioned.

“You and Longbottom,” she laughed, in an Isn’t it obvious? type tone. “No wonder you didn’t get sorted into Ravenclaw.”

“Oh, shut it,” you scoffed. “There’s nothing to be said.”

“Didn’t Umbridge tell us all not to tell lies?” she countered.

“Hermione, really?”

“Okay, I’m joking! Bloody hell, Ron’s rubbing off on me,” she groaned. “But I’m serious, you need to do something about it. And you can’t use the ‘Voldemort’s going to have my arse, that’s far more important than telling the love of my life that I’m madly in love with him and don’t know what I’d do without him because he’s all I’ve ever wanted’ excuse.”

“Yes I—” you began, but stopped as you realized she was right. “Ugh. You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Isn’t that why we’re friends?” she winked, nudging you in the side. “Come on. You have until the end of tonight to tell him or I’ll march up to him and do it mysel—”

“Okay, okay! Fine. I’ll figure it out. By tonight,” you said, exasperated. “Happy?”

“Now that’s progress.”

The first Quidditch match after the war had to have been one of the loudest you’d ever witnessed. Of course, it made perfect sense for it to be—after all the violence and bloodshed, everyone was quite relieved to be making the steady return to normalcy. 

However, you felt the nerves creep up on you as they usually did, and started to regret not holding up your end of Hermione’s bargain before being thrown headfirst into a massive adrenaline rush. 

But maybe, she was right. You’d spent so much time around Neville to the point that Flitwick had asked where he was when he didn’t show up to class with you by his side last week. To the point that half the time you studied together, you’d end up staying so long that you fell asleep at your seat and he’d end up finishing your homework for you (without complaint, of course, because that’s just how he was). And, to the point that during last month’s DADA session with the boggart, all you saw was his limp corpse on the floor, bloody and pale and lifeless after failing to kill Nagini, the sword of Gryffindor by his side. It had concerned even Blaise, who you weren’t necessarily friends nor enemies with, who stepped in to help you cast the Ridikulus spell because you had no energy left to do it yourself. He was everywhere, and there was no point in avoiding him. 

Sighing, you finished putting on your uniform and got ready to leave the locker rooms, nervously wringing your hands out. You had taken up Fred’s post as one of Gryffindor’s Beaters after you left, and had to admit that it was rather bittersweet stepping onto the field for your last first game. While Harry was giving his usual pep talk, Ginny squeezed your hand tightly and leaned her head on your shoulder. You rested your head on top of hers in response, closing your eyes for a brief moment. 

For once, there was no rivalry, no boos or shouting matches between the Gryffindors and Slytherins as you made your way onto the field. You could feel the collective sense of inter-House unity all around, with both captains cordially shaking hands and wearing genuine smiles on their faces, along with different Houses mingling together. All that mattered was that everyone was back together on the field, ready to experience another round of their favorite pastime. 

You couldn’t recall the last time you were unable to stop smiling like this, zipping through the sky like it was all you cared about and all you knew how to do. The game went by quick, with Ron making several last-minute, game-defining saves, and Gryffindor just barely won, the final score being 300 to 280. 

Your head was spinning faster than the Quaffle you’d swatted away multiple times, legs feeling like they were made of jello as you dismounted your broom. The Gryffindor team was a tangled mess of limbs as they embraced one another, hoisting Harry up in the air as he raised the trophy high in one hand. After hugging more people than you could keep track of you finally pushed your way out of the stuffy crowd, immediately scanning the stands for a familiar face.

And then you saw Neville standing there in the front row, arms open in the slightest in an invitation, so you sprinted forward, practically throwing yourself into his arms. You had no idea where the surge of confidence came from, but suddenly you were tightly clutching his shoulders and bringing his lips down to yours in a hard kiss. The sudden action took both of you by surprise, as he barely had time to react before kissing you back, arms wrapping around your torso to help you maintain your balance. 

You probably would’ve passed out if you hadn’t pulled apart when you did, which was when Seamus and Dean’s loud wolf-whistling forced you to; faces flushed and breathing heavily. Somehow, though, the pure shock running through your veins kept you standing upright.

“W-what was that for,” he sounded completely out of breath, “I’m not complaining, but—”

All you could manage to respond with was a breathy laugh and wide smile, reaching up to adjust Neville’s woolen hat. “Something I’ve been putting off for ages.”

“You couldn’t have done that before Voldemort nearly killed you?” he questioned. “What were you waiting for?”

“I don’t know. But I’m here now,” you grinned, bringing him back in a second time. “Are we complaining here?”

“Not at all.” 

SIX YEARS LATER

“Aunt Y/N, tell me the story of how you and Uncle Nev got married!” Teddy clapped his hands together in glee. “Tell me tell me tell me!” 

“Haven’t I told you this before already?” you asked.

“I wanna hear it again! Tell me tell me tell me!” he pleaded. “Tell me!” 

“Alright, alright,” you chuckled as he settled down in Ginny’s lap, and you looked over at your husband, who gave you a warm smile. “It all started with Herbology. I’d always had a green thumb of my own, of course, but Neville over here was the brightest in our class. Professor Sprout had a soft spot for him, you know.” 

“Brightest is an understatement,” Neville chided. “I should be in history books for my talent.” 

“Hey, be humble!” you teased, lightly punching him in the arm. “Anyway, Teddy, you know about the second Wizarding war, right?”

Teddy nodded eagerly. “Uncle Ron told me you all kicked butt and that Harry saved the day!”

“Exactly! Now, we were all very young. A few of us had been eighteen for several months, but many of us were still just seventeen. Older than you of course, but we were still kids. But the war made us grow up fast. Some of us went back to Hogwarts to finish off our last year, and Neville and I were placed into the same classes for the eighth year in a row—makes me think that Professor McGonagall did that on purpose.” 

“If she didn’t, you wouldn’t have this, would you?” Neville asked. 

“Nope,” you replied, leaning into him and resuming the story. “Our final class of the day was Herbology, and he’d been telling me how he wanted to come back to Hogwarts to teach that class because he loved it so much. Our section was the smallest with just ten students, so we got very close to each other very quickly and hung out after class a lot. And…one day, Professor Sprout had made a sudden change to our lesson plan which I thought was confusing, since she always let us know what we’d be doing in advance. Neville and I went to the greenhouse as per usual, but no one was there. That’s when he told me about the change, and said there was something he wanted to show me first. I was still confused, but I agreed, since there was no harm in doing so anyway. Well, we got there and it was pitch black, so I couldn’t see anything, which started to scare me.”

“And you were sorted into Gryffindor,” Neville teased. “Somehow.”

“Oh, quiet and let me finish. What’s a hero without a little fear, anyway?” you laughed. “That’s when Nev told me there was no Herbology class that day because it had been cancelled. Suddenly, a few lights turn on, and he’s standing behind me holding the prettiest bouquet of glowing flowers that I’ve ever seen. He told me it had taken weeks of watering them one by one, by hand, after class had ended, to get them to how they were then.” 

You continued on, relishing in the memory as you recalled the story. 

“What is this all for?”  you asked. “Don’t tell me this is all a ploy to kidnap me and hold me hostage forever.”

“Not exactly…” he handed you the glowing bouquet, and took one of your hands in his. “Now come follow me.” 

He led you deeper into the greenhouse, passing by glittering bellflowers, sweet-smelling honeysuckle, and other peacefully sleeping plants. Floating candles decorated the space, and you started to wonder if Sprout had cancelled class because she was redecorating the area. 

Neville squeezed your hand, prompting you to turn around. Your heart started racing as it always did when you looked at him, but this time it was quite different. The once awkward eleven year-old boy who was your Potions partner had morphed into an impressive and achingly handsome young man, and you wondered how you had been so lucky to meet, even if it was by accidentally spilling half your potion all over him the first day you met. The same hands that bravely gripped Godric’s sword and sliced Nagini apart were also the same hands that held you more tenderly and gently than anyone else you knew. The same hands that had held you upright when you were kissing him for the first time in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. 

“Nev…” you began, but all the words you wanted to say got caught in your throat as he shuffled a bit and pulled a tiny box out of his coat pocket. He carefully flipped it open to reveal a silver ring mixed with flecks of white gold, and a teardrop shaped diamond in the centre. “Are you…”

He cleared his throat, internally shaking out the nerves. “I don’t know how it took me so long to realize it was you. When Trelawney looked over my shoulder at the tea leaves that Seamus was reading for me, she said he was doing it all wrong. She’d told me, cup in her hands, that I had found my divine soulmate and she was sitting in that very room. And that we were—we were to be together for the rest of time. The King and Queen, she said. Of course, nobody believed it, not even me, so I brushed it off. But maybe she was right. You’ve always been there and I’m an idiot for taking as long as I did to realize I loved you.” 

“Well,” you smiled softly, “it took me a while too, so I guess we’re even on that end. I don’t think I ever told you, but it was you I smelled in Slughorn’s potion that day. You’ve always been it for me, too.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh...well…” he shifted around again, “I got this a while ago, actually…like three years ago. Before I had even asked you to be my girlfriend. That time I had to go to the bathroom when we were at Hogsmeade with all our friends? I went to the vintage jewelry shop and picked it out with Ron’s help. I was only fifteen, but I wanted to save it in the hope that some day, I’d see it on your finger. And yet I kept denying that I cared about you as more than a friend.” 

“Blimey, Trelawney really was right,” you let out a breathy laugh. “You knew before you even knew.” 

“Yeah, so…this is me asking you now, I guess. I didn’t want to wait any longer when I knew that you were the only girl who I could picture a future with.”

“Then this is me saying yes,” you beamed, and he took your hand in his, gently putting the ring on. It seemed to glow extra bright as he did so.

Teddy clapped again as you finished the story. “And you lived happily ever after!”

“We did indeed,” you agreed. “A fairytale ending, if you will…”

“...and I remember when you told us about what Trelawney said to you two that day,” Ginny added on, also smiling, “something along the lines of, ‘this happens once every few lifetimes.’ If even that. Like you were meant to be from the start. ” 

You couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth as you glanced over at Neville, the boy with twinkling eyes whom you had married at just eighteen, your whole lives ahead of you, ready to tackle it all—from exploding Potions to Quidditch victories—together, hand in hand. 

And you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

tags: @rwuqas @strollnstroll @nanamisfootrest @actuallybarb @strangeexpertninja @mat1cozemiyom @arkofblake @lizzyrose200 @jesterghuleh @gemofthenight @hpfan0308-leia

[luvvyouforever]

suddenly, neville {n.l. x reader}

↳ three times that neville is there for you when heartbreak strikes and the one time he decides to do something about it.

↳ content: sadness, feelings of self-doubt/insecurities, slander against almost every hogwarts boy, fluff, friends to lovers, pining, neville being a shy sweetie. word count: 1684

1.

"and then he," sniff, "he told me he never liked me. that him and dean were just joking." you wiped tears from your eyes violently and neville felt his heart tearing in two for you. "i thought they were nice! why would seamus lie like that?"

"i don't know," neville answered honestly. he knew that his friends were pranksters, sometimes taking jokes a step too far. but he had never expected his best friend to come to him crying over a stupid idea the two had devised. he felt angry with them. how could they have done that to someone as beautiful as you?

"i just don't get it! why does everyone else get to have crushes and first kisses?" you huffed frustratingly. neville's first thought was that he should have kissed you then but his second thought was much more controlled and much more him. he reached out, patting your back and trying to inject as much comfort into the touch as he could. you stayed like that for a few minutes as your tears subdued. one final sniff and you were rising from neville's bed. "i'm sorry for this. you're the first person i wanted to come to."

neville rose immediately after, coming to stand at your side. even at thirteen years old, he towered above you. "don't apologize," he said in a serious tone. "it's okay. i'm here for you. always-oof-"

neville's voice was cut off by your frame crashing into his, pulling him into a tight hug. he wasn't used to the touch or the affection and after immediately tensing, he relaxed and wrapped his own arms around you. something bloomed inside neville's chest and though he tried to push it down, you couldn't help but hear his heartbeat quicken.

2.

neville's experience at the yule ball wasn't as fun as he had hoped for. ginny was a great date and he danced through the entire night but something in his chest didn't feel right. you weren't there, enjoying the once-in-a-lifetime experience with him. he thought that, at first, you were just late or maybe he couldn't spot you among the crowd. but two hours into the night and he hadn't seen you once.

he left the ball eventually and his first and only mission was to seek you out. he slipped through the halls of the castle, narrowly avoiding snape's patrol, in search of you. his feet took him toward an empty stairwell which echoed with quiet sounds of crying.

"y/n?" he called out timidly. the sniff from further up the stairs told him all he needed to know and eventually, he was standing before you. your dress was beautiful, your hair was done in an intricate updo that he knew must've taken hours, and yet you were sobbing alone. "what's going on?"

"cormac...he stood me up. didn't show, didn't owl me. nothing," you said, voice barely above a whisper. he could tell that you had been crying in this very same stairwell for a while based on the puffiness of your eyes and the rasp in your throat. gingerly, he took a seat by your side.

without thinking, your head leaned on his shoulder and the pins in your hair poked his skin. something about his presence visibly eased your pain and he was so glad that he could offer you that.

really, neville wanted to be the one to take you to the yule ball. to be the one that watched you walk down the stairs in your dress. to be the one that danced with you all night long, breathless and laughing. but he was too nervous to do such a thing and instead asked ginny. neville silently reprimanded himself for not being more brave and said, "you look beautiful, you know?"

he could feel your smile against his shoulder. that was all he needed.

3.

"hey neville...did you hear that y/n broke up with zabini last night?" seamus whispered. "apparently it was a whole big scene."

neville didn't know about that actually and hearing it from seamus first hurt him more than he wanted to admit. instead of answering his friend, he poured his attention in to brewing his potion to hopefully get out of snape's class unscathed.

a few hours had passed until he entered the greenhouse for his advanced herbology practices class which he had begged you to take with him. and there you were, carefully plucking weeds out of a venomous tentacula pot. "hey!" he said, coming up behind you.

you turned and he saw the night's effects on your face. dark circles, puffy eyes, a warm sweater covering your body instead of your usual perfect uniform. something tugged at his heart and if he could, he would've wrapped you up and swept you away immediately.

"hey nev," you said with a forced smile. "i'm assuming you heard the news since you're looking at me like i'm a kicked puppy."

he didn't respond but nodded, pulling on his own gardening gloves to assist you in your task. he knew you'd tell him about it without him having to pull it out of you.

"he was nice and all...but he was really mean sometimes and his friends didn't like me. i figured i was too good to put up with more comments about my hair and my uniform and my house but now i'm not so sure." there was a crack in your voice that you cursed.

this time, neville didn't hesitate to pull you into his arms. he had gotten taller, stronger, braver. he was still a gangly mess of limbs but now he knew how to control them and how to offer the best hugs he could. his arms were tight around your shoulders and a few tears slipped from your eyes. his head leaned down and laid upon yours.

"you are too good for that, y/n. you're too good for all of them. i just wish you could see that," neville whispered against your hair. you took in his words, digested them one by one, and felt slightly better. you pulled away and looked at him with watery eyes. from that moment forward, neville knew he would do anything to preserve your happiness and bring a smile to your face. he knew that he was in love with his best friend of six years.

4.

"i don't know what you want from me, draco! i've tried to please you and make you happy a hundred times but it's never good enough!"

"no, it never is and it never will be! god, can't you see i stopped liking you weeks ago? with your nagging and neediness and crying, i don't think you'd ever be good enough for anyone."

neville stopped in his tracks outside the greenhouses. two voices yelled back and forth at each other and he easily distinguished them as y/n and presumably her now ex-boyfriend. neville's fist clenched at the words draco spat at his best friend.

suddenly, he heard stomping and draco flew by him in a rage. quickly, he rushed to where the voices were coming from and found you on the cold ground, upset but not crying. you didn't even look up when he came over and he took it upon himself to sit down next to you. no words were exchanged until-

"i don't know why i try. i don't know why nothing ever works for me. why i keep crying over boys, stupid boys. i don't know why i feel so worthless when those stupid boys break up with me. the worst thing, i think, is that i believe every word malfoy just said. that i won't be good enough for anyone. i will just graduate, work, live alone in a cottage, and watch everyone else fall in love around me but never with me," you rambled. words of self-doubt kept coming from your lips but you didn't know how to stop them. it was a ever-flowing stream of consciousness that neville bared for you. finally, your lips stopped moving and your mouth stopped producing sound. you took in a shaky breath and began to stand. neville's hand flew to your wrist and pulled you back down to the ground.

there, his eyes met yours with such an unwavering intensity that kept you planted. "listen to me, y/n," he started, "i have watched you cry over too many boys to deal with this any longer. not a single one of them deserved you or your love. you give so much and it crushes me that you get so little. do not believe draco, or zabini, or cormac when they make you feel like you're not good enough because you are. you're beautiful, so beautiful, and intelligent, kind, caring, witty, and anyone would be lucky to have you. i know because i have fallen so in love with you the past seven years and even in your ruined yule ball dress or your messy gardening clothes, i feel lucky to be by your side."

your eyes were wide at neville's confession but he didn't back down or take back his words. in fact, he felt relief knowing that his feelings were in the air now. after seven years of growing, he felt brave enough to admit things like that and do things like this.

"maybe the reason nothing ever worked is because i was always seeking you in everyone else," you finally whispered. neville's hand gravitated towards yours and like a moth drawn to an achingly beautiful flame, his lips found yours.

the kiss was everything you had been looking for. sweet, firm, passionate, but gentle. neville would never be mean to you, never degrade you, lie to you, stand you up, or do anything but offer peace and happiness as long as you live.

after a minute of pulling apart then reconnecting, neville leaned his forehead against yours. "i didn't know you had gotten so cliche, blossom." seven years of holding you had led to this and neville wouldn't change a single part of the journey.

[plutodexay]

Red envelope- Neville Longbottom pt.1

Pt.2 will be smut on a different page. Please do not view pt.2 if you are not 18+. This is a sfw work (Any age), can be read as a stand alone,pure fluff, both charcters are written as adults. Enjoy!

679 words. Gen!Reader. No warnings.

It stood out, the red envelope. All of your mail scattered about on the table in different shapes of white paper, save for the parchment from friends. It reminded you of the holiday cards you'd get from estranged family while at school. There wasn't a holiday near though, or an address on the card.

There was almost an eerie feeling to open it, like the moment you did something would change. It was sealed with wax, more a wizarding thing than not, making the feeling grow more.

It snapped easily, thankfully. Small chips of gold wax falling onto the table as you carefully pulled the small parchment out. You recoginzed the hand writing almost instantly from days of stealing notes in class. The ink was harsh, almost as if it was meticulusly used, every stroke thought out for longer than the ink could stay wet.

"Your eyes shine like the stars in the sky

making it easy to find one self lost

you are much more within my eye

making me wonder if you would do the most and be mine?"

A poem? You think aloud, chuckling slighty at the horrid attempt of rhyming from your friend. It took a moment before you took in the meaning of it, backtracking to the last two words once again. "Be mine?" Your eyes squinted, trying to make perfectly sure it was the writing of Neville Longbottom, not willing to fall for a prank from a particular set of twins this far out of school.

You couldn't be more sure, ages spent looking at the parchment assured you. You found yourself in a daze, not thinking about your next moves until you were face to face with the all too familar door.

"Hi." Neville spoke, face redder than it was when he first opened the door. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" You frowned, walking past him, entering his house without hestiation.

Neville followed behind, shutting the door quietly before trailing you, standing awkwardly in front of you as you stopped. He took a seat at the table, putting his head in his hands before muttering something under his breathe.

"Why are you sorry?" You asked once again, standing in front of him as he peared up at you slightly.

"I shouldn't have done it, especially like that."

'Why? Was it a joke?" You could feel tears starting to well in your eyes at the idea of it being some sort of prank, something to try and trick you into being vunerable.

"No." He said rather loudly, his own eyes wide at the mere thought of it. He stood up, making it so you two were standing scarily close and taking a deep breathe before he spoke. "I'm in love with you, the question wasn't a joke. I'm just." He trailed off, countless emotions filling his eyes.

"Bad at poems?" You chuckled slighlty.

"Really bad, but Hermione assured me you'd like it." He responded, voice lighthearted, mimicking your own.

You couldn't think of any words to fill the space settling around the two of you, the tension was thick, as if both of you were waiting for the final pin to drop. Instead of trying to ramble your way out, you took the route of sheer impuslive confidence.

Without another thought, you reached up and grabbed the dark collar of Nevilles shirt, pulling him towards you just enough that you could place your lips onto his. It barely took him a second before he caught on, taking his hands and placing both onto your face carefully.

His lips were soft, not shocking seeing how well the man takes care of every other aspect of his life. Even with the confidence in his movements, you could feel the slight quiver in his lips out of nervousness. It didn't bother you and he didn't seem to care, his face flushed with a wide smile as you pulled apart for air.

The matching look on your own face was all it took for him to pull you right back in, not that you were going to complain.

Pt.2

[yasministration]

hello! can you write about seamus finnigan or neville longbottom? w a slytherin reader. although the reader is pureblood and comes from a infamous family, maybe she's a little frightening from the outside but never has morbid thoughts and is quite good and kind to those who truly deserve it and a certain gryffindor boy likes her. he very skeptical, indecisive at first but starts to realize her reality and sincerity

Strangers to friends - Neville Longbottom x artist!reader

honestly thinking of making this an au but i feel like no one will read it because people don't really read neville stuff anymore wc: 1.3k+

Neville held his breath, hoping not to annoy you with his presence, watching as you sketched something in your notebook, one leg crossed over the other which you swung up and down in boredom. You blatantly ignored the teacher’s slow drawl, the soft scratch of your pencil on parchment filling the otherwise silent classroom. Feeling someone’s eyes on you, you looked up, making direct eye contact with the Gryffindor boy, who immediately averted his gaze at the revelation of being caught. You squinted your eyes as you observed him, deep in thought, before returning your stare to your notebook, where you’d been drawing Professor Flitwick.

At the first sign of class being over, you stood up, uncaring about everyone’s eyes dawning on you, still sat in their seats. Flitwick sighed, announcing with annoyance “Well since miss l/n decided class is over, I suppose you can all leave.” You slung your bag over your shoulder, slipping past a group of Gryffindor boys to glide through the doorway. “Anything for you princess.” Called one of the boys, and you turned back to shoot the entire group a glare. Neville’s entire face turned hot, and he elbowed Ron in the side for his unnecessary comment. “What? She might get princess treatment at home, but she definitely won’t get it here.” The ginger defended, ignoring Neville’s obvious dislike towards his attitude.

You huffed at Weasley’s comment, speeding your pace up to increase the distance between you. The Gryffindors were just rude because they were jealous, you repeated to yourself, rounding the corner to the staircase. You sped down the stairs, going all the way outside to the Hogwarts grounds for your next class. Charms was always going to be unpopular between Slytherins but at least you had friends in Care of Magical Creatures. You spotted Pansy and Theo from a distance, speeding up your pace to join them when you heard a call of your name behind you. Spinning around on your heels, you sighed in relief at the sight of Draco and Blaise catching up to you. Blaise furrowed his eyebrows when the pair finally neared you, putting a hand on your shoulder in worry. “Are you okay?” “You look… shrivelled.” You hummed, eyes trailing past the two boys in front of you to look where a couple of students clad in their red uniforms strolled across the grounds. “Gryffindors.” You replied, smiling sarcastically. The two Slytherins groaned in unison, used to the unloving relationship between them and the lions.

From where Neville made his way down to care of magical creatures, he could see your gaze trailing to land on his moving figure. He gulped, fearful of your intimidating stare. Neville turned his attention to his book bag, where he aimlessly ruffled through loose papers and notebooks. He would do anything so he wouldn’t have to stay occupied by your scary stare. Unfortunately for Neville, he couldn’t avoid you for long, because when he finally arrived to the empty patch of grass at the edge of the forest where class took place, you were quickly announced to be his partner.

Neville pretended not to notice the way Harry sympathetically patted him on the shoulder, instead shooting you a respectful yet awkward smile. You nodded in response to the shy boy, who nervously ran a hand through his hair. Neville couldn’t read the look on your face, but when Hagrid finally called out all the pairs, he began to nervously approach you. When you and Neville finally stood face to face, he fully expected you to begin barking orders at him. What he most definitely didn’t expect was for you to say “So, I’m not gonna lie here, I wasn’t totally listening to what Hagrid was saying.” You nervously laughed, hoping that Neville was patient enough to explain everything to you.

To your utmost surprise, Neville’s shoulders sagged in relief, thankful that you weren’t going to be strict with the work, but rather the opposite. The boy smiled, running a hand through his hair once more as he flicked through his notebook, describing that you had to sketch and label the chimera, listing out all its uses in other magical areas. You scoffed, saying “You don’t think Hargrid’s going to get a real life chimera in here, do you?” But you were quickly swallowing your words when you spun around to find the half giant leading a chained chimera onto the grounds. You squealed in horror, tripping backwards over your feet as you flinched away from the creature. Neville put an arm around your shoulders to steady you, halting your fall, and he smiled sympathetically at you. “Sorry.” He added, grimacing when he glanced back at the creature.

“So we’re going to stay stationed right here.” You decided, walking a safe distance away and dropping your bag. You struggled to take off your jumper, dropping it on the floor so you could sit on it without dirtying your skirt. Neville put his things down, watching as you flicked through your sketchbook. Catching sight of the drawing you’d done of Flitwick that morning, Neville gasped. “No way!” He put his hand on the page to stop you from turning the page before he was instantly blushing and pulling his hand away, apologising profusely. “It’s fine Neville. Do you like it? Drew it this morning.” “Woah.” Neville admired the drawing when you thrusted the book closer to him, a smile gracing his features. “This is amazing.”

“Yeah? You can have it if you want.” You said, already making way to rip the page out of your book. Neville started waving his hands, saying “No, you don’t have to y/n, really!” But it was too late; you’d ripped the paper off, marking your name and the date. “It’s yours. Flitwick’s my favourite person to draw. Look at how many of him I have.” And suddenly, Neville had forgotten all about the roaring creature in front of him, worshiping each and every one of your scarily precise drawings of the professor. “Does that mean you’ve drawn other people?” Neville asked curiously, watching as a smile bloomed on your face and you immediately delved into a passionate rant about all of the people at Hogwarts you’ve drawn, until finally, you landed on one of him. Well, him and Luna Lovegood in the library, a rough sketch of bookshelves behind them.

“I couldn’t really focus but Pansy was adamant on staying in the library.” Neville took the sketchbook from your hands, his mouth agape in amazement. “These are really cool. You’re really talented y/n.” You felt your cheeks heat up at the unexpected compliment, thanking Neville sweetly as you put a hand on his bicep. “Fifteen minutes left!” Hagrid called out, causing the both of you to scramble for pencils and begin lousily sketching.

What you didn’t tell Neville was that on the way back from class, Draco had nudged your side, teasingly saying “You looked like you were having a great time with Longbottom in class.” His words were loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the friend group, who instantly joined in. Pansy and Blaise did an over-exaggerated recreation of the way you tripped backwards, Blaise catching Pansy in his arms and pulling her into a tight hug. Even as you said “That’s not even what happened!” you felt the heat rush to your face, and your arm clamped down on your bag, making sure your sketchbook was still in there. Your sketchbook, where you had marked on the newest page ‘Neville and Y/N, The Chimera’, in your horrible rendition of the chimera.

And Neville didn’t let you know, but when he returned to the common room that day, admiring your drawing, he felt his cheeks become rosy. Ron, being the nosy friend he is, snatched the paper from Neville’s hands, immediately begin to question him on the drawing. “Fuck Neville. Do you have a crush on little miss princess, is that it?” And Neville didn’t find himself denying the idea, instead saying “Hey, she’s really nice, okay!?”

[btsbabe7]

November Prompt 21: Crisp Air

Words: 905 | Pairing: Neville Longbottom x reader

In the distance, you can make out Neville’s frame hunched on a bench in front of the main greenhouse. Thick brown vines trailing across the giant frosted windows hug the structure behind him and the morning horizon peeks just beyond it. The view is breathtaking, but you can’t bring yourself to stop staring at him.

Your close footsteps draw his attention from the book in his hands and up towards you. His thick brown hair is blowing in the soft morning winds and he shoves his book away, immediately coming off the bench to greet you with a warm smile. His gloved hands rest on your cheeks and he leans down to plant a soft kiss on your lips, warming you more than you’d been with your hands shoved inside your coat pockets on the walk over. When he pulls away, his ocean blue eyes gaze into yours and you get lost in them until the crisp morning air rushes over the both of you. The moment you shiver against him, he reaches into his bag for the extra greenhouse keys he’d managed to get from Professor Sprout at the beginning of the year.

“Next class isn’t due til noon, so we have plenty of time to study,” he grunts while pushing the heavy door open with his shoulder. With a sigh, he turns back toward you, following your lead after you step inside. Shortly after, he locks the door from the inside. “But I don’t understand why you want to study dittany, we’re far more advanced than that.”

You take in the warmth of the greenhouse. All the sunlight that seems to have disappeared over the week has been absorbed inside the frosted glass walls. Everywhere you turn there’s plant pots, soil and fertilizer bags or some green herb growing lushly. It makes you smile, makes you happy to be able to witness life in this form when everything outside of here is withering away and growing colder with winter fast approaching.

You peel your coat off, then your gloves and scarf and earmuffs and toss them on the only empty table you can find before turning to see your boyfriend’s look of confusion.

“Come on, Nev,” you purr softly. “Warm me up a bit?”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip the moment he slips out of his coat and drops everything on the ground before scurrying to you. Neville steps in front of you, allowing his fingertips to curl against the hairs at the nape of your neck before pulling you into an open-mouthed kiss.

He’s gotten loads more attention now due to his changing looks, but you’ve had the real luxury of watching him grow older over the years. His puffy cheeks were the first to go, eventually rounding out into a sculpted, chiseled jawline and soon after, his body had done the same, leaving him with nothing but pure muscle that threatened to tear through the white button up he’d failed to replace. And though he had many physical changes, his kindness and courage and care for you always remained, and that’s what you love most.

You hop on top of the table, shaking a few pots in the neighboring potting tables which gains a laugh from the both of you. And once you’ve steadied yourself, you glide your hands over his, which had dropped to your waist during your kiss. Then, you trail up his wrists and slowly over his biceps until you reach his shoulder blades. You work your fingers tenderly into the knots that always form there and he grunts loudly in relief.

“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” You moan. “Carrying all the plant pots for the first years?”

He bows his head in shame, knowing that he told you he’d stop two weeks ago.

“You know how heavy those pots can get, Y/n, and they’re so small. It reminds me of us seven years ago,” he admits.

“Nev, you promised. It’s admirable, truly, but you’re neglecting your own body.”

“I can handle it,” he whispers and leans in closer, looking you straight in the eyes with a smirk. “Besides, I have you to rub out all the kinks and knots.”

You scoff softly before giggling against his touch and pulling him closer. He rests his head against your shoulder, his breath steadying against the goosebumps that have prickled across your skin.

“Y/n?” He breathes.

“Mhm?”

“I want you to stay with me over the break,” he answers, pulling back to see the clear excitement and nervousness on your face.

In all the years of dating, he’d never asked, and during the times you’d begged him, he always said he didn’t want to intrude on you and your time with your family; though, he didn’t even have his own anymore.

“Yes. Yes! Of course I’ll come, Nev,” you exclaim and rest your hands against his collarbones.

“Y/n,” he says again and you gaze up into his eyes once more. “I’m absolutely head over heels in love with you.”

You blush hard as he brushes your tears away and pulls your lips back against his. In that kiss, you both make a silent vow to never abandon each other. And that vow, in a world where anything can be frigid and crisp on the outside, having the ability to lean on each other for warmth whenever you may need it feels absolutely amazing, just as love should.

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

⚡︎ For You Always - reader x Snape

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms) & (bts imagines/drabbles)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

[dracowars]

Hii! If requests are open could I get a professor!neville longbottom and professor!reader?shes the potions teacher and theyre "enemies"? Always at each others throats and interuppting classes just to throw snarky remarks and the students are like "omg not again🙄"? Anyway one night a student sees him leaving her room and rumors start abt how they're dating/fucking?? And after a few days of trying to deal with a school of nosy students they "talk it out" which ends up being a make out session in the potions room and they get caught by the students who are like "plz we just wna study😭"??

Thank youuu <3

greenhouse hearts and cauldron sparks | neville longbottom

pairing: professor!neville x professor!reader

word count: 3,4k

summary: where rumours are spread about neville and y/n having a thing

a/n: somehow this was difficult for me to write & i don't even know why, maybe because it's my first for neville and i don't know yet if i got his character right (especially since he is older here). i really tried my best and i hope you enjoy it <3 feedback in any form is much appreciated!

warnings: slight angst, cursing

universe: harry potter

With a set goal in mind and pure determination, you strut through the glass door of greenhouse three and are immediately eyed by more than twenty pairs of eyes, all curious but somehow not surprised. Some of them even look like they were only waiting for this to happen. Again.

"Professor Longbottom, forgive my interruption", you apologize with a smile that does not quite reach your eyes, making your way towards him. "But I need to talk to you. Urgently."

"Welcome, Professor Y/L/N", Neville greets you, not moving from his leaning position on the table, fully concentrated on the plant pot in front of him which seems to be housing a Chinese Chomping Cabbage. Suspiciously eyeing the dangerous plant, you take a small step back. Herbology has never been your favourite subject, not when you went to Hogwarts yourself, not now, not ever.

"You burst in at just the right time! We are about to harvest the first cabbages", he explains, strongly emphasizing you interrupting his class, his eyes still fixed on the pot.

"I actually don't really care right now. All I care about is the huge plant or whatever that monstrum even is that has spread over my desk in the teacher's room", you start whispering now, not wanting the students to hear your words. But since they all still stare at the both of you, their cabbages long forgotten, you bet they could hear you either way.

"Oh, I must have mixed up the tables", Neville simply shrugs but a small smile plays around his lips as he finally turns his head to look at you. You have looked into his eyes several times before, million times even, but it hits you differently every time. His green eyes stare at you for a second too long before he clears his throat and straightens, pulling out the cabbage and putting it into a big crate. Removing his gloves, he leans his hip against the table, his big frame towering over you as you still stand there.

"You did that on purpose", you whisper, more to yourself than to anyone, but the little chuckle that escapes his mouth confirms your assumption.

"I would never do such a thing", he replies, placing the gloves on the table behind him. Scoffing, you look at him in disbelief.

How come that Neville Longbottom, the slanky, shy and nervous boy who hid behind his robes and hair from your school days suddenly became such a cunning and especially handsome professor who tests your patience every day. And most importantly, why does he always look at you like that, as if his eyes want to tell you something more, something deeper. And why, for Merlin's sake, is your heart beating faster every single time you interact.

"It would be much appreciated if you could get rid of this monster as quickly as possible before it eats someone or whatever it is that it does", you repeat, but something about the way he looks at you right now tells you that that probably won't happen any time soon.

"Of course, of course. Once I've got- No! Put that down, Henry. Excuse me for a second, sweetheart", Neville interrupts himself all of a sudden, jumping into action as he quickly runs to said student who is about to get attacked by one of the vicious plants, the nickname he called you still ringing in your ear. On his way there, he runs against a table and knocks over some empty pots. If it weren't for you stopping them mid-air with a spell, they would have shattered into a thousand pieces.

He may not look like the Neville he used to be, but he has not lost his clumsiness. Shaking your head, your gaze follows him, watching as he rescues the student from his demise and you can't help but smile a little at that. He also never lost his genuine sincerity and willingness to help.

As you are waiting for him to return, you notice several of the girls staring at you, whispering to each other as they have certainly seen the way you looked after him. Clearing your throat in an awkward manner, you stand up straight and adjust your robes.

"Alright, well, that turned out differently than expected but wasn't that fun? Never underestimate nature", Neville speaks up now, all heads turning to him. "Please finish your protocols until next week, clean your tables and then you are free to leave for the day."

What initially looks like pure chaos ensuing turns out to actually follow a clear order as the students rush around and do what he says. In a few minutes, everything is back in its place and the students rush out of the greenhouse, ready for their break. On their way out, they also say goodbye to you.

The second the last student leaves, Neville claps his hands together, rubbing them as if he still has something planned. "You know, these things only ever happen when you are around", he teases you, walking back to where you are standing to put his bag on the table and gather his things.

"Well, I'm glad it wasn't me who got attacked by one of your experiments for once", you counter, having lost count of the times you had unpleasant encounters with his plants.

"That is just because they can sense your fear, sweetheart", he smiles while packing up his stuff, making sure everything is neatly placed inside his bag.

"I'm not scared of them", you scoff, ignoring what he called you and what it does to you once more, and you cross your arms in front of your chest as you lean your hip against the table he is still standing at. "They just make me feel uncomfortable and I don't like them. Your experiments certainly didn't make me like them any more, in case you forgot."

"How could I ever forget that", Neville laughs. He does not giggle or even try to hold back his amusement - he just straight up laughs at you as the memories find their way back to him. Huffing out an exasperated breath, you softly shove him to the side which only causes him to laugh even more.

"You are so annoying, do you know that? I can't believe I have to deal with this every day", you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that. You would be bored to death without me", he smiles at you, genuine, and gently pushes his shoulder against yours, coming even closer. He looks at you, the way he always looks at you, and even though you would never admit it, he is right. It would be boring without him.

His eyes are locked with yours, at least until they drift down for a split second, looking at your lips, but it was so fast you are not even sure it actually happened. One of his hands now gently touches your arm and your insides twist.

Until the door to the greenhouse suddenly bursts open and a student comes in. Jumping in surprise, you both put as much distance between the two of you as possible in these few seconds, but the way she stops in the doorway as if she had just interrupted something speaks volumes.

"Uhm- I'm sorry, Professor. Professors. I-"

"Chloe, what are you doing here?", Neville asks her kindly, no signs of nervousness, but out of the corner of your eye you can indeed see how he plays with his fingers.

"I uhm.. forgot my book", she says awkwardly but makes no attempt to move, her gaze switching between the two of you.

"Right", Neville smiles at her, obviously trying to make it less uncomfortable. "Then go get it?"

At his words, she is seemingly brought back to life and quickly runs to one of the tables, grabs her book and rushes out of the greenhouse with lightning speed. Watching her leave, Neville's eyebrows furrow. "What was that about?"

Sighing, you lean back against the table, this time, however, with a lot of distance between your bodies.

"Dear Merlin, we will never hear the end of this now", you say, rubbing your fingers against your temple as you try to wrap your head around what just happened.

"Of what?", Neville asks, curious and seemingly oblivious.

"Of us having a thing."

"What?", he lets out in shock, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you are joking. Oh how much you wish you were.

"Yeah."

"Wh-What do you mean?"

"Don't tell me you haven't heard about it", you answer, turning your body to directly look at him now.

"I honestly don't know what you are talking about."

"I can't believe this", you let out a humourless chuckle before continuing. "The students are talking about us, Neville. Have been all the time."

"And?"

"And they think we fuck", you blurt out and watch as the realization hits him.

"Oh", is all he says to that, his eyes unfocusing and his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

"Yeah. 'Oh'. And now we fueled the rumours even more, we have given them even more reason to believe them", you explain, trying your best to not sound too desperate.

When you first heard these rumours, you had to laugh. Neville and you? Never. But over time, you realized where these assumptions came from and you could actually see how someone could possibly come to this conclusion. But there is nothing between you. Right?

"But nothing happened", Neville agrees with your thoughts, looking at you with those beautiful eyes of his. A strand of hair has come loose and hangs over his forehead and you would like nothing more than to gently remove it from his face.

"No. It didn't", you whisper, supporting his statement even though you both know exactly what almost happened. Neville gives you a sympathetic smile before picking up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Anyway, I believe there is a plant I need to take care of", Neville digresses from the topic and even though you welcome not having to talk about this any longer, your heart feels a bit heavier than before. "Also, did you make the potion I asked you for?"

"Of course", you say as you follow him outside, noticing how his hand hovers over the small of your back as he leads you through the door.

════════════

"Professor?", one of your female students asks for you, sitting in front of her and her groups bubbling cauldron. Quickly, you get up from your seat at the front of the classroom and walk to her, smiling as you are thrilled to help with whatever is going on. You have been these students' Potions teacher since first year and now that they have reached seventh year, you have formed an even stronger bond with them.

"Yes? What can I help you with?", you ask once you reach them, leaning over them to take a look inside the cauldron which is exuding a sugary sweet scent. So far, they seem to have done everything right.

"Do you have a husband? Or kids?", she puts the question out there like it is nothing, the other girls at her table looking at you attentively.

"First of all, that is not a question you ask", you remind her and she only shrugs apologetically, making you feel like she actually does not feel sorry at all. "And to truthfully answer your question: No, I have not."

Apparently, your answer triggers something in them, because suddenly the whispering starts again and they look as if they can hardly sit still due to being incredibly excited about something.

"We asked Professor Longbottom the same question this morning", she continues now, suppressing a giggle. "And he gave us the same answer, so we thought that you two would make a good match."

"Oh girls, please", you sigh, trying to suppress a laugh at their endearing faces. "You definitely shouldn't worry about your teacher's relationship status and focus on your grades and upcoming exams instead."

"But Ms. Y/L/N! You would be so cute together!", they all gush, telling you about all the times they have seen you two, how they can clearly tell that 'there is something more going on'. You know you should tell them to continue their task but you just can't stop listening to them.

"When we asked Professor Longbottom, he told us that he thinks you are a wonderful colleague and also quite attractive", one of the girls chimes in, batting her eyelashes at you.

"He certainly did not say that", you retort, shaking your head with a smile at their determination.

"But he did!", they all say in unison, repeating to you all the words he supposedly said about you.

════════════

"Professor? Do you have a moment?"

"Of course. How can I help you?", Neville smiles at the group of girls in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. He has just finished his last lesson for the day and was on his way to the Great Hall for dinner now if it was not for these students catching him in the middle of a hallway.

"Remember how we asked you about Ms. Y/L/N this morning?", one of the girls says, a smile on her face that he can't quite pinpoint.

"I do", Neville answers, not adding that their conversation had followed him throughout the whole day.

"Well, we just had Potions with her and we asked her about you, too", another student says, a sign of pride in her voice. "Do you want to know what she said?"

"Do I have a choice?", he says, feeling a bit cornered by the four girls in front of him. He was set on eating and then going to his quarters in the Faculty Tower to get some well-deserved sleep. Apparently that was not happening any time soon.

"She told us that you are her favourite colleague and that she also finds you kind of handsome, even though she told us not to tell you."

At that, Neville needs a few seconds and swallows hard. He does not know what he should be more uncomfortable with: the fact that these students are interfering in his private life or the thought that you actually may have said those words. What are the chances that you did?

"That is..", Neville starts, no idea how to best solve this situation. "Certainly very nice of her to say. Thank you for telling me, but I'm afraid we must head to the Great Hall now as dinner will be served soon."

He does not even wait for them to answer and walks straight past them, a blush on his cheeks as their giggling follows him to the end of the hallway. He sighs, their words echoing through his mind as he turns another corner and suddenly bumps into someone.

With wide eyes, he realizes that the person he just almost pushed to the ground is none other than you. His hands are still tightly gripping your upper arms, a measure he took to prevent you from falling, as he stares at you.

"What is wrong with you?! You almost gave me a heart attack", you lecture him, your frozen body slowly coming back to life. Only now do you notice that Neville is still staring at you as if you weren't from this world and the pressure he is exerting on your arms is somehow getting stronger.

"Neville? Hello? Anyone there?", you ask slowly, snapping a finger in front of his face. That seems to bring him out of his trance because he blinks several times in a row and clears his throat awkwardly, letting go of you but not before smoothing down the sleeves of your cloak.

"Sorry", he mumbles, looking to the ground and grabbing the strap of his bag as if it were an anchor to help him from drowning.

"Are you alright?", you ask, a bit worried now at his unusual behaviour. When you hear several voices coming from the hallway, he suddenly takes your hand in his gently and maneuvers you both into the nearest empty classroom, closing the door silently.

"What is-"

"I didn't want them to see us together", he tells you before you can ask and your heart drops.

"Oh."

The sound comes out a lot more sad than you wanted and Neville notices it as well, shooting his head up to look at you. It does not take him long to realize what he said is the reason for it.

"N-No, no. That- That was not what I meant", he immediately starts explaining. "I just- These girls kept asking me questions about you the whole day and since our.. the situation this morning I thought it would be best to not fuel the rumours even more. Like you said."

Switching between his eyes, you don't even know what to say to that. Because you indeed do not want them to spread anymore rumours about you. On the other hand, you can't deny the emotions you feel, especially right now, with one of his hands still holding yours.

"Did you tell them that I'm a wonderful colleague and that I'm attractive?", you hear yourself ask. You have no idea where that came from all of a sudden but somehow you do not even feel sorry for asking. The girls love gossiping and spreading rumours, but a tiny part in your heart still hopes that they did not just make all of it up.

You just need to know.

"What? No", Neville immediately responds with so much vehemence that you take a step back. Again, he realizes a bit too late what he said and you feel your heart crack. You should have been prepared for this, you asked for this, and yet it painfully stings.

"I mean", he tries again, getting ahold of both of your hands now, making you look up at him. "I didn't say those exact words. I- Well, I think they just saw the way I looked at you and probably realized something sooner than I did."

"Neville, you really don't need to justify yourself", you say, not wanting to hear any more to protect yourself but also not moving to leave.

"I'm not, Y/N. What I would have liked to tell them is that you are the most wonderful person I have ever met. You are smart, sweet, sometimes snarky, loyal, helpful and have those little quirks that drive me crazy. The way you are engrossed in your notes and keep pushing the strand of hair out of your face and chew on your lower lip. And I love the way you interact with the students. You can tell how much they adore you and that they see you as their role model", Neville tells you with so much adoration and determination that you think you must be dreaming.

"I love the daily teasing, the banter whenever you get upset about my plants but then help me with the potions I need anyway. And yes, I think you are absolutely beautiful", he continues, mending the crack in your heart. "But I couldn't possibly tell the students all that."

Lowering his head after exposing himself like that to you, showing vulnerability, you are at a loss for words. He said all the things you always wanted to hear from him but never even dreamt about them ever becoming true. Your silence makes him nervous, he shifts his weight from one leg to the other and breathes in deeply.

"They would certainly have loved that", you giggle then, placing your fingers under his chin to make him look up at you. When your eyes meet, he can see yours sparkling and shimmering like they never did before. "And I love you."

With that, you pull him in for a kiss. Neville is too perplexed for a few seconds to do anything, but then he relaxes into the kiss, his hand finding its way to the back of your head to pull you even closer. You relish in the feeling, of how your lips work against each other, of how your hands are pressed to his chest between your bodies.

You forget where you are and what could happen if someone came in any second, but you simply do not care. And Neville does not either as he softly pushes you against the desk in front of the classroom, smiling into the kiss as he says: "Let's spread more rumours then."

[justanoasisimagines]

New Year Nerves

Summary; With the new year looming, Neville finds himself douting himself. Pairing; Neville Longbottom x Female Reader Wordcount; 524 Warnings; Mentions of Anxiety A/N; Hey lovelies, I hope the new year is treating you well so far Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Christmas had been a wonderful whirlwind of seeing friends and family. You and Neville both agreed you would spend New Year's Eve, together at home. Both socially burnt out.

"You sure, you don't want to go out. There's still time" Neville questioned as he looked through the takeaway menu struggling to make a decision. Too many options.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Are you?" Neville nodded as you turned to fully face him. Arms resting on top of the couch. "I'd rather spend the night in welcoming the new year with you than being at any party."

"I don't want you to regret it that's all." Neville had come leaps and bounds since the war. He'd become more confident and more assured in himself. However, sometimes doubts still wandered into his mind like an unwelcome reunion.

"There's no place I'd rather be." Placing his head down attempting to cover up his bashfulness, Neville picked a takeaway menu and called in your order. Wondering how on earth he managed to get so lucky.

As the hours drew on Neville laid out on the couch you nestled perfectly under his arm, with only the glow of the television illuminating the room. Carefully, he made sure the blanket was laid equally over the two of you.

Neville rested his chin on the top of your forehead, barely paying attention to the movie playing in front of you as his mind drifted to the past year. Reconnecting with you, taking a leap and asking you out. Getting his dream job. This year had been one of the better ones.

"You know you make me happy." Your head moved to the sound of his voice, eyes softening as the television illuminated your face.

"Yeah, we make each other happy which is why this works." You sat up so you could look at him properly, close in contact. The couch bringing you ever closer. Neither of you minded.

"I wasted so much time, we could have been together for years." You slipped your hand in Neville's, his eyes having the courage to look at you directly. He didn't have many regrets, but with the new year looming he'd been thinking about it all day.

"We're together now. That's what's important. Next year we're going to make so many memories together. You're going to get sick of the sight of me." Neville scoffed. Impossible.

A gentle hand cupped Neville's stubbly jaw. The tension slowly slipped from his body as he instinctively leaned into the touch. How do you do that? Manage to make all of his worries slip away. You always knew what to say, what to do.

"I get anxious that's all."

"After everything, it's not surprising, but we made it. We're here and we owe it to others to live our lives to the fullest." You were right, and although Neville knew his feelings of anxiety would still raise their head every so often, with you by his side they wouldn't last for very long.

It was at that moment, that Neville decided at the stroke of midnight, he was going to tell you he loved you for the first time.

[imagineweasley]

Through Pinky Promises

neville longbottom x reader

summary: you're in the thick of the war and you and neville have relocated yourselves and a couple other students into hiding. you go out one night to patrol the halls and get caught by the carrows.

read epilogue here!

warnings: violence/torture, descriptions of injuries, angst

word count: 1.6k

submit requests here! | masterlist

When you came to, your head was pounding. A moan escaped your lips but you couldn't get her body to do anything else. You felt something cold, something damp gently dab your forehead, and the cold shocked your senses enough for you to open your mouth.

"What..."

"I'm here, y/n. I'm here." A shaky voice reached your ears, but barely. It felt familiar... but you couldn't place your finger on whose it was. Whoever it was, your body relaxed a little upon hearing the voice, and you were going to take any relief you could. You were quickly losing consciousness again... you tried so hard to hold on, to stay out of the blackness, but you couldn't... it was too hard... you felt your eyes grow heavy and close again...

You were screaming. Screaming and screaming endless screams, a noise so bloodcurdling it could not possibly be coming from your body. Every nerve in your body was on fire, every neuron in your brain was firing, trying desperately to keep you alive. This was a pain unlike any other. What that red flash of light was doing to your body shouldn't be physically impossible --

You jolted awake.

"PLEASE, PLEASE, STOP!"

"Y/n! What's wrong!" The blackness in your vision was fading quickly but the pain was lingering and your limbs were still twitching. A crowd of concerned faces of the students surrounded you: Seamus, the Patil twins, Ernie Macmillan, and all the other students who had gone into hiding with you and Neville a few weeks ago. Stumbling through the small crowd was Neville, wand aloft just in case.

He reached you and grabbed your face with both hands in panic. "I -- help me Neville, help me, please, it hurts, it hurts." As you collapsed into your boyfriend's chest sobbing, he waved away the students' stares ferociously.

"Love, it's okay, you're out. You're safe with me, you're back with us. They're not hurting you anymore." He swallowed back tears and it felt like a rock was sliding down his throat. You were shaking like a leaf and heaving with sobs. Neville knew very well these nightmares, how you wake up sweating and crying out after those torturous nights with the Carrows, and even though they were living in a godless time, he prayed to anyone out there that he would be able to take on your pain.

Neville stroked your hair as your pain subsided and with them, your sobs. You were fully conscious now, and the events of the previous night were hitting you. You had left the Room of Requirement which had become yours and many other students' shelter, to patrol the halls to help any students in trouble. This was not a regular thing the DA did and Neville protested, but you just had a feeling something terrible was going to happen, and he could not stop your will; he never could.

And something terrible did happen, but not in the way that you thought. As you crept around a corner, you came face-to-face with Alecto Carrow, who had smiled a manic, terrifying, slow grin, and struck you with the Cruciatus curse right there in the hall, for everyone to hear your agony. She was making an example out of you, a warning for any other student who dared to go against their dictatorship.

She had then dragged your limp body to her office, where she had taken turns with Amycus, her equally cruel brother, torturing you to try to get you to confess where the other students were hidden. The siblings had it out especially for you and Neville, since you two were acting as the leaders of the student revolution. They had sliced you open and beat you half to death for what seemed like hours before Neville and Seamus had burst through the door and somehow stolen you back.

When your breath slowed and you weren't gasping for air anymore, you were finally able to get a good look at Neville.

His eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion, puffy with tears, and he had some open gashes across his cheekbones and arms that had not been there before.

You gasped at the sight. "Neville, what are these?"

He laughed low and soft, and stroked your cheek. "It's so like you to be worrying about me when you're the one who's been locked up with them all night." You stayed silent, demanding an answer, and with a sigh, he said, "Seamus and I were hit a few times when we were getting you, but it's no big deal. You were nearly bled out by the time we managed to get in, Parvati's been working all night to close up those wounds."

You glanced around Neville and met the eyes of Parvati Patil, who was wringing out a washcloth into a basin of red water. You shivered at the sight of your blood staining the water. You mouthed a grateful thank you at her and she merely smiled and waved you off, indicating she did not need the thanks, then pointed her wand at the basin and replaced the bloody water with clean water.

Seamus appeared at your side and his eyes were also red and screwed up with concern.

"How is she?"

"I'm doing just fine and dandy, Seamus." You held up a feeble thumbs up. "Thank you for saving my life."

Seamus sighed with relief and his shoulders visibly relaxed. "Thank Merlin. You were looking pretty bad there."

"Thanks, Seamus."

He laughed and returned to his sleeping bag, finally plopping down to get some rest.

Your chest was lightening minute by minute and the pain was finally merely a whisper, so you took some time to examine your worn body. There was a large gash across your chest and down your legs, and the rest of your body was bruised. A slight sting on your right cheek told you that there was another gash there. Thankfully, the wounds were almost closed up and the bruises were a sickening yellow, but the shade meant that Parvati's efforts had not gone to waste.

Suddenly, you felt Neville's hand, which was still on your leg, shaking. You looked up, startled, to see that he was overcome with sobs. He was barely breathing from trying to cry silently as to not bother you or anyone else, but it did not seem like he had much control over the tears.

You immediately wrapped your arms around him and he nearly fell into you. "Honey, what's wrong?"

His arms made their way around your waist and he gasped in between sobs, "I'm... so... sorry!" His voice broke between each word with the effort to try and gather himself.

You couldn't do anything except stroke his hair and let tears stream down your face. They soaked his hair and some ran down his neck. Suddenly, he pulled away, grabbed your face, and crashed his lips onto yours. His face was wet with tears (and frankly, a bit of snot), but you didn't care. Your tears mixed with his as he pulled you closer to his body. Perhaps all you needed to heal was this kiss. The pain was already gone.

You stayed like this, kissing each other with the desperation of almost losing each other again, only interrupted by the occasional hiccup from one of you, until you ran out of breath and had to pull apart. You were breathing heavily, but not from the nightmares anymore. Neville had somehow ended up nearly on top of you and holding you up by your waist. He leaned his forehead on yours and whispered, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be the one crying."

"It's okay, Neville. I'm actually flattered that you think so highly of me." You both laughed and Neville replied, "I love you more than anything in the world. I was ready to die for you last night, and I still am."

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes again, and he kissed them away. "I love you too, Neville. Please don't die on me."

"Then don't get yourself caught like that." Neville smiled wryly at you, half-joking, half-serious. "You are amazing and I know you were only trying to keep people safe, but we need you. You're the smartest witch in this room and we'd -- I'd be lost without you. I know I can't stop you from going out there again but promise me you'll take it easy for the next few days."

He knew you so well. You paused, as you had already been mulling over how to not get caught the next time you slipped out to patrol, but you caught a glimpse of terror in your boyfriend's eyes and caved. With a shaky breath, you held your pinky out to him. "I promise." Neville smiled and linked his pinky with yours. He kissed you again, much gentler this time.

"Get a room you two!" Seamus called out from his bed on the floor, grinning mischievously. The tension in the air dissipated as the rest of the students laughed for what seemed like the first time in days.

"If you haven't noticed, dear Seamus, this is the only room we have and trust me, if I could get another room to get away from you, I would!" Neville grinned back at Seamus who laughed again and flashed a rude gesture in response.

Neville turned back to you. "Now, you need to get some sleep. Doctor's orders." He grabbed a stray pillow and fluffed it for you, then placed it beneath your head. Your stomach knotted at the thought of slipping back into a nightmare, and you tightened your pinky, which was still linked around his.

"Please, stay with me?"

With a kiss on your nose and a deep groan of relief as he lowered himself onto the pillow next to you, he replied, "I wasn't planning on going anywhere, beautiful."

And held in his arms, your pinkies remained locked together, and you didn't have any nightmares that night.

[forthehpfanboys]

if you’re still asking for headcanons could you do neville (i love him sm he’s underrated) and his boyfriend who’s taller than him, very outgoing, kinda like a class clown (similar to george and fred)

Oh my god, I have too. Like I'm sorta coming back so I'm sorry of this is ooc. Anyway, Neville is so sweet.

He's so blushy all the fucking time.

Looks up at you with the biggest fucking puppy dog eyes all the time.

Lowkey wants to sit in your lap and read but *knows* you'll probably make fun of him.

You guys are total opposites it's *so* cute.

If you were sorted in to the same house, snuggles happen on the couch after hours and you guys *have* fallen curled up next to each other.

If not, it still happens but like oh my god. You guys get curled up in the couch of your houses common room so he doesn't get teased by the other guys.... Unless your a Slytherin. Then it's in your bed with the curtains drawn.

Oh, and if you *are* a Slytherin, you single handedly put a stop to Draco and his bitches teasing him and he's so greatful.

Literally will take the fall for you if you do pranks with Fred and George but PLEASE do not make him do it, he's high-key a softie.

You guys can hold hands peacefully because he knows you will defend him.

He GENUINELY laughs at all of your jokes- and his laugh ranges from snorts to giggles. It's so cute to you. He's adorable.

Oh my god- if you hug him tightly and spin him around he squeals and clings to you.

He LOVES the height difference because it's just so damn nice being held by you and your big arms and your so warm and it makes him blush.