Harry Potter 1. In The Beginning

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, plot is mine. :)**

**Authors Note: To all my faithful readers. Hello again! I've been away so long I'm sure you've all forgotten about me. I was rereading my story and was pretty unhappy with some of my continuity errors, issues with canon of the books, and grammatical mistakes. I took some time to go through it all and revamp a little bit. I'll be reuploading everything and more, hopefully a little more consistently now that I'm happier with the story. Thank you all for being so patient and supportive. This is a tough semester for me, academically and socially, and the feedback here, both positive and constructive is wonderful help and support. Please please please review! :)**

Chapter One: In the Beginning

_Neville's point of view._

After spending the night tossing and turning, Neville rolled out of his bed. Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he stumbled toward the washbasin and absentmindedly poured water in the bowl. As he glanced out the window, the recollection of his dream faded away as the view of the early morning sun illuminating the waters of the surrounding sea distracted him. The opalescent beauty of the water shimmering and winking in the dawn left him lost in thought. However, clarity returned to him as the water began to slosh over the brim of the bowl and onto the floor, drenching his socks.

Muttering curses to himself, he wondered why he was so bloody prone to accidents. Irritated, Neville quickly splashed water on his face, rubbing the grit of sleep from the corners of his eyes and shuffled toward the bureau to dig out dry socks.

Unintentionally slamming the drawer shut, he haphazardly tried to pull his socks off while standing up. An exploit of poise that even the most graceful people would have trouble with, a few seconds of hopping around on one foot eventually turned into Neville collapsed on the floor after loosing his balance while skidding through the puddle he had created moment ago.

"Bugger it all, s-s-stupid, foul, awful, piece of…," Neville exclaimed after air returned to his lungs. Hauling himself back to his feet, he grabbed his wand off the top of his dressed.

"_Tergeo_ ." Neville mumbled, pointing his wand at the puddle and siphoning the water from the ground back into the bowl where it sloshed momentarily and disappeared.

Plopping down on the chest at the foot of his bed, he pulled the wet socks off and replaced them, sighing as an ache developed in his rear from his unfortunate fall.

Looking up, eyes gleamed in the doorway of his room and a handsome grey cat strolled into the room acting almost as if her brows were raised at his shouting then twined herself between his feet purring adoringly.

"Hewwo pwetty girl," Neville cooed and while grinning, he scooped the cat up in his arms. Her name was Chloe and she never failed to bring a smile to his face.

Her mrrow of response was quickly muffled by him holding her close and nuzzling his nose into the soft fur at the ruff of her neck.

Graceful, charming, and regal made her the opposite of him in most every way, plus as a member of the breed Russian Blue, she was basically impervious to most common feline illnesses whereas he only avoiding weekly colds by spending most of his time in the sun and drinking orange juice daily.

Most wizards preferred pumpkin juice, but he found that the taste had never really grown on him and Gran was constantly trying both muggle and magical means of making Neville into the kind of boy that would give the Longbottom name the kind of respect it once had commanded, which started with attempting to battle his perpetually runny nose.

Ignoring her squirming, the thought of Gran caused his insides to twinge.

Thinking about Gran was rough, even over three years later. Gran had given him Chloe a few weeks before she passed away.

His relationship with his grandmother had been difficult. She had never been the motherly type and most of the time he thought she had forgotten what it was like to be young. Over the years, she constantly compared him to his peers, his father, even the brilliant Harry Potter, his old friend from school. He knew that when she died, that she was terribly proud of him and who he grew up to be and he still missed her terribly. She was practically the only family he had ever had aside from the smattering of relatives, the best of them, Uncle Algie, had once dropped him out of window.

A disgruntled meow brought his attention back to Chloe whose now narrowed and irritated sea green eyes had given her the name since it meant green or new shoot. After some research he had found that Cloe was a common epithet for the Greek goddess Demeter who was actually real and just a witch, who much like him had a gift with plants.

Releasing his hold on her, she climbed onto his now broad shoulders and rubbed his ear with her nose, giving him a "wet willy" causing him to flinch. Leaping off his shoulder onto the bed, her wide eyes stared at him as if reading his mind until he was thoroughly alarmed.

Quickly he swished his wand, making the bed, leaving Chloe trapped under the covers, a little game they had perfected over the years. With a chuckle, Neville watched as she darted back and forth under the covers until she found the edge and dropped out between the sheets with a huff.

Mock fuming, she glared at Neville and with a swish of her tail left the room, looking back at the last second with a small mrrow signaling that she was not really mad but would be if he was not quick with her breakfast.

With her exit, Neville turned back to the chest of drawers and pulled out a white tee shirt and some khaki slacks. Turning to change, the full length mirror in the corner of his room caught his eye. Perched on top was his grandmother's famous vulture hat, but that was not what had garnered his attention. His reflection had.

Still toothy, Neville grinned amused by his still crooked teeth. Gran had always refused to let him have them fixed, mostly because she thought they looked like his mothers. Other than his awkward smile, Neville had grown up quite a bit.

No longer the pale awkward chubby little boy, like all other men as they hit their late teens, Neville's shoulders broadened and his abundance of baby chubbiness melted away. A year of virtually no food and constant running from the Carrows at age 17 had lost him a lot of excess weight and his work with the Ministry after the battle had given him some muscle tone. Catching on the run death eaters had been hard work.

Along with the bad memories, Neville had gained a rather impressive amount of scars, the most obvious being the ones around his wrists. After the holiday-break of his 7th year when Luna and Ginny had left him the sole leader of Dumbledore's Army, any time he showed up to class he received automatic detentions from usually from Alecto Carrow who taught Muggle Studies a class in which he had often rebelled. As the deputy headmistress as a special treat she allowed Filch to take care of him, and he promptly hung him by his wrists from the ceiling in the entrance to the dungeon. Despite the fact that he was too tall to be truly hanging, he stood there in chains for a week. Least noticeable, however, was the scar on his right forearm reading, "Blood traitor." That one he had gotten during a detention with Amycus Carrow who had borrowed ex-Professor Umbridge's sadistic feather quill.

Neville's dirty blonde hair was trimmed short and though it was not neat, it happened to always look okay no matter what, in a purposely disheveled kind of way. He was tan due to the fact that he spent more time outside than inside and his current home was in a region where the weather was always warm.

He had no real need to shave and due to his work with plants, his hands were tough and callused and yet his nails were kept short and clean and his hygiene was impeccable, mostly due to him learning all sorts of useful cleaning spells due to him klutzy tendencies.

He realized that many people had thought he had grown up quite a bit and for the better. Professor Sprout had once joked to him that he'd be a catch for any girl he fancied, but he had rolled his eyes. She was just being motherly and complimenting him.

Neville had never considered himself particularly attractive and today was no exception. Pulling the shirt on, he looked away from the mirror in disgust, lost in recollections from school.

Neville had longed for warmth, peace, quiet, and his own place for as long as he could remember and had found it on this small island in the Mediterranean. He had always been shy, but not in a scared way, more in a he felt awkward around people. He was clumsy, forgetful, and had a propensity for breaking things around him, but he was neither stupid nor cowardly as many people had thought for a long time during his schooling.

People in addition to calling him fat, stupid, ugly, and a laundry list of other names often questioned why he was put into Gryffindor in the first place. Even his friend Justin Finch-Fletchly suggested one day in Herbology class, the one that Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors always shared, that maybe he ought to look into switching houses, maybe the Sorting Hat had been wrong. That one had stung in particular due to his recollection of the Sorting Hat being adamant he be placed in Gryffindor despite his conviction that he was more of a Hufflepuff.

As usual, Hermione defended him, which had only made the situation worse. Hermione had always defended him and part of him was flattered she noticed him, but another part of him would always silently kick himself for letting a girl, particularly Hermione see him vulnerable.

Neville supposed he had always had a crush on Hermione. She was his first friend and he was hers. He knew she was far closer to Harry and Ron, but he took pride in the fact that even they spent a month ignoring and teasing her before they realized how wonderful he always knew she was. When she was done helping those two with their work, she would always spare a minute to answer a question of his or look over his Transfiguration homework since he never quite got the knack of it. He remembered fondly the time she whispered directions for a Shrinking Potion to him so that Snape, who terrified him the most, would not use Neville's own work to kill his toad Trevor.

The list of astounding memories of Hermione went on: the time she defended him from Mad-Eye, the time she hugged him after he got ten points for Gryffindor at the end of the first year, the time she had caused him to get those ten points, which was one he did not remember quite as fondly as the others. However Hermione was probably long married to Ron and having red-headed children while at the same time discovering the cure for the common cold and finding three more uses for dragon blood. But as the years had gone by and he hadn't heard from her, he had resigned himself to being lonely. He didn't think anyone else would ever compare to her and who would look at him twice anyways?

Shaken out of his reverie by a loud howl from downstairs, he quickly pulled on his shirt and trousers and walked downstairs to feed his melodramatic cat. After feeding her, he wandered outside admiring the scenery and plopped down on the ground. With an excellent view of his property and his orchard he lost himself in recollection.


	2. Lost In Thought

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling. **

Chapter 2: Lost in Thought

_Neville's point of view. _

Soon after the battle of Hogwarts, Neville had obdurately declared to Gran that he was not returning. His statement was a source of consternation and argument between the two until he received a letter from Kingsley Shacklebolt asking if he would be interested in working with the ministry to hunt down the remaining death eaters and help to put the Ministry back together.

The chance for Neville to do the family proud and reestablish status quo had appeased Gran and allowed him to sleep at night. The thought of returning to Hogwarts had been foreboding at best.

The year of torment he had gone through while Harry, Ron, and Hermione were off finding the Horcruxes was too much to take and there was nothing left for him at Hogwarts anyways. After the battle, there had been a grim sort of celebration as the dead were buried and the living tried to respectfully rejoice the fall of Lord Voldemort, but all he remembered was the grief that clouded the castle like an inescapable fog.

While at the funeral for Fred Weasley he noted gravely Hermione twined around Ron as if he was the only think holding her up while Ron gripped her waist with an air of grief that seemed if he let go of her he would never be able to escape the blackness he felt. Neville knew that feeling because he felt it every time he visited his parents at St. Mungo's.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to empathize. The sight of Hermione's slight figure clinging to Ron had only made him nauseous.

In June of that year, he began work with the Ministry. Harry, Ron, and him quickly learned the ropes and became full-fledged aurors. Harry and Ron had spent much of their time working diligently and effectively to accomplish the task, while Neville helped where he could. His heart was never really into it. Of course, he had wanted to see every awful person who had contributed to Lord Voldemort's reign of terror face justice, but the raids and constant fear of being the target of a misplaced curse left him morose and depressed most of the time.

Also the amount of time he spent with Harry and Ron gave him a close view of the budding romance between Hermione and Ron, which more often than not caused Neville to want to punch a wall.

At the end of the summer, a ceremony was held at Hogwarts to show that the school had recovered and was a strong as ever, dedicated to teaching young wizards how to control and wield magic for good. That day was seared into his mind, as it was one of the last times he had actually spoken Hermione.

He remembered that she had been dressed in a striking but conservative deep crimson dress, as she had been asked to speak to the crowd. All of the Golden Trio had spoken in addition to McGonagall, the minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, and some of the school governors. McGonagall had wanted him to speak to but he had refused.

Hermione's speech had been eloquent and short. Up on the dais, he had noticed that she gripped the podium with white knuckles and seemed to be having a hard time. He noticed how much she had changed from the girl who helped him chase his toad around the Hogwart's Express. First off, she looked much more mature and was obviously, erm, a woman now.

Neville recalled to himself how beautiful she had looked, though he had always thought she was beautiful from the first moment she stuck her hand out to him and introduced herself.

But that day, her normally bushy hair had been tamed and coiled into a bun with some pieces dangling in front of her face which she would every few seconds brush away with a tense hand. Yet like every other male his age, his eyes lingered not on her face but in other places.

Her legs were tanned, shapely and toned leading up to a curved rear and skinny waist and she looked overall very…adult. Her obvious nerves had left her breathing quickly and her fluttering chest was showcased by the tight dress.

Neville remembered with a bit embarrassment, as he had stared, a familiar tingling sensation grew in his abdomen leaving his cheeks to grow red. It wasn't entirely an uncomfortable feeling and he regretted to admit that it happened whenever he saw, interacted, or thought of Hermione since 4th year but it was weird and had felt inappropriate for such a sobering event. He recalled the person sitting next to him, an unfamiliar sandy haired man in Ministry garb had stared at him in alarm, as Neville had seemed close to hyperventilation in the late summer humidity.

His mind had unconsciously drifted to other things not worthy of mentioning in polite conversation until he noticed the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She remained composed, but the falsely cheerful and optimistic address had never been reflected in her eyes which looked as empty as the day in 1st year when she had confided in him that she had overheard some of their peers saying terrible things about her behind her back.

After the ceremony finished, Neville had tried to approach Hermione and was dismayed to find that she was being bombarded by a horde of admirers with Ron protectively holding her waist while she pasted on a smile that never reached her expressive brown eyes. It didn't seem that Ron had any idea she was upset. He was probably just enjoying being the center of attention.

Remembering his disinterest in seeing that display of affection up close, Neville had gone to find Professor Sprout and chatted with her instead.

After awhile a tap on his shoulder led Professor Sprout to smile and excuse herself as he turned around in annoyance. He disliked when people interrupted conversations and smiled as he remembered he had begun to chastise a surprised Hermione before he realized it was her.

As he apologized quickly, Hermione, who was blessedly by herself, gave Neville a quick, yet fierce hug as she explained that she had missed him. The hug and her words had brought the feeling back to him and he sighed to himself as he remembered he had quickly pushed Hermione away so she didn't notice the effect she had on him, yet had longed to pull her closer, preferably leading her to somewhere private.

They had chatted for a few minutes and just as Hermione's eyes had begun to twinkle again Ron had approached and kissed her swiftly on the mouth as if marking his territory. He had never had an issue with Ron, but he remembered in that moment all he wanted was to violently kick Ron. The visibly shaken and upset Hermione had returned while Ron brusquely said hello to him, a look of wariness in his eyes, for reasons Neville still to this day never had understood.

The greatest regret Neville had in his short life so far was watching her walk away after he promised quietly to write to her. The brave man who had sliced off Nagini's head, who had been the first to rush forward and challenge Voldemort at the sight of a supposedly dead Harry, who had been immobilized and set on fire for his rebellion, would have leaped forward and embraced Hermione and whispered his feelings for her. Not even a whispered, shouted them aloud to all who listened.

He longed to go back and redo this, bending onto his knees and declaring he would fight for her until the end of time in an attempt to have made her seen that he was the one for her.

Yet Neville wasn't that man. He never had been. His bravery in the battle had been a fluke, a mere adrenaline rush. He had never gotten past a rough draft of a letter to her and to add insult to injury, Hermione had never sent him a message either.

As the year went on, Ron brought the letters he received from Hermione, who had went back to Hogwarts to finish school, to work and would beam from ear to ear as the letters would close with the simple words, "All my love, Hermione." How Neville wished those letters had been addressed to him instead.

Neville's temper was rubbed raw and when in June of 1999, Gran succumbed to illness herself, Neville almost lost it, once again feeling that blackness enclose him.

Smiling gravely, Gran gripped his hand as he sat by her bedside and said it was her time to go. They settled her affairs and she seemed to agree Neville should go off and start his own life. She offered him their estate but he declined, instead giving it to the Ministry to use as a sort of half-way home for children and adults whose lives had been ripped apart by Voldemort. He needed warmth and sun, preferably a place with fertile soil unlike the rocky terrain of their manor.

It wasn't until the end that Neville realized she was deceptively much older than everyone thought she was.

Gran left everything to him and gave him Chloe to keep him company and in two weeks time, Gran faded away in her sleep, maintaining her caustic humor and biting wit until the bitter end.

The funeral was small as she wished and helped him avoid the sympathy of the masses. He quietly arranged for the continuation of his parents care at St. Mungo's and paid for several years in advance, making only a small dent in the rather large fortune left for him. He never advertised his family's wealth, but as he sold the manor's belongings and other various properties the Longbottom's owned, the fortune got significantly larger.

When everything was in place, Neville ventured to Diagon Alley, booked a room in Leaky Cauldron where he could easily commute to the Ministry for work. Everywhere he turned there was a witch or wizard shaking his hand thanking him for helping. His brave killing of Nagini had been banished from his mind but was a known tale among most.

Killing was not in his nature, no matter the reason, and he tried not to dwell on those particular few moments. Surely all it had been was adrenaline and fury.

By November, however, he couldn't stand it anymore. The job with Harry and Ron who endlessly prattled about their lives, the unwarranted admiration of those around him, the dreary London life, and the loneliness all were getting to him. Particularly Ron who made a loud show of his evolving rapport with Hermione made him furious. Neville couldn't bear to hear of Ron's wonderful relationship…or sex life.

One day, after a particularly vivid desire to cause Weasley pain nearly blinded him, Neville approached Kingsley and resigned. The minister spent a long time talking to him. He had come to Gran's funeral, admitting to being a close friend of Augusta when she was an upperclassman at Hogwarts and he was only a first year. He was sad to see Neville go, but not surprised by his decision. The minister suggested Neville play to his talents as he had heard, Neville was a remarkable gardener, able to care for plants that had the potential to viciously maim most others.

People in the Control for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures which also was responsible for magical plants had supposedly told the Minister that Neville spent a lot of time in the Ministry's greenhouses, helping to cultivate plants that were needed for potions, but too dangerous to grow without the care of highly experienced wizards.

Surprised, Neville grinned at the praise from the minister who suggested he just stick to growing plants. The minister offered him a contract which stated that if he became a liaison to the Ministry for growing and harvesting specifically needed plants at the Ministry's request, he could cultivate any type of plant, magical or non magical for his own profit, ignoring all sub-laws of whether or not the plant was allowed to be possessed outside of Ministry hands.

Elated by the prospect of getting out of London, this was just the opportunity Neville had been unknowingly longing for.

After leaving the Ministry, his first stop was Gringotts, where he was taken swiftly down to the deepest caverns of the bank, now protected by a particularly large cave troll who relished in the dark dank environment was marginally easier to communicate with than the dragon. In the vault, he deposited much of the belongings he had not sold, such as his various books from his school days, most of them in mint condition since he had done little but skim through them, his Gryffindor apparel, school robes and apparatus, and lastly his Gran's famous hat adorned with the once terrifying, and now just shabby stuffed vulture.

Pausing for a moment, he grabbed the hat again. He didn't feel quite comfortable leaving it behind.

After, in a small leather bag he withdrew quite a sum of money and strode out thanking the goblin for his assistance. Once topside again, Neville took a deep breath and set off down the alley stopping in various shops for essentials.

After the day of shopping, he had returned to his room in the Leaky Cauldron with stacks and stacks of advanced growing guides and various essentials he had purchased to find a package sitting on his bed. After removing Chloe from her resting place atop the package he opened it to find inside was a small library's worth of top secret gardening information, privy only to the most elite of the Ministry's herbologists. Also was a small chest that he opened to find a small fortune in rare magical seeds, each one packaged and labeled meticulously.

An attached note in Shacklebolt's loopy handwriting wished him the very best of luck and a thank you for solving his problem. Supposedly, Voldemort's supporter's had killed his only herbologist who had the ability to grow most of these plants leaving the Ministry with an alarmingly low stock of the most precious and rare of potion ingredients.

Neville recalled staying up most of the night reading. The next morning he realized that he had nowhere to go to grow all these spectacular plants.

In desperation, he remembered fondly how Professor Sprout had guided him. A majority of the plants required a more tropical region and after a month of planning, Neville found the perfect location, with Professor Sprout's help.

By January he was settled in his new home. A small island off the coast of Italy in the Tyrrhenian Sea called Isola del Giglio. He had purchased a villa that overlooked the harbor of the port city. It was a small but airy two story house with white washed walls. The property itself was expansive and it suited him and Chloe perfectly. It was warm and sunny, a perfect place for growing.

He hadn't been this happy in a long time and the best part was that it was completely isolated from the rest of the world. A fresh start in an incredible place was just what he needed.


	3. Antics and Owls

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

Chapter Three: Antics and Owls

_Neville's point of view._

Staring at the view, Neville's recollections of his post-war life was interrupted by Chloe running pell-mell out of the house chasing what he liked to call a "faerie," but was, in reality, thin air.

Chuckling to himself, he recalled how this seemed to be a trait of most cats. When bored, their minds saw things to keep them entertained. At least, Hermione's cat, Crookshanks did these things as well as his Chloe.

Thinking of Crookshanks made him think of Hermione which always caused a bit of pink to rise in his cheeks. Quickly dismissing the thought, Neville laughed as he watching Chloe dart around in furious pursuit of her invisible prey. It had been close to four years since he had last seen her. He had been happily living on the island for a little over three years.

Chloe, most likely hearing his laughing, swished her tail at him in annoyance and then fled back into the house. Surprised, Neville looked around him for the source of her fright and saw some of the children from the village racing up the hill towards his villa.

Neville grinned as they yelled what he assumed were taunts to each other and laughed at their antics. This group visited him nearly everyday, seeing as how there wasn't much to do on the island after the crops were plants aside from run wild and wreak havoc.

He had chosen his house carefully. With its simple rectangular design and flat red clay roof, it was very much a Mediterranean home. Italy was beautiful in its entirety, but not particularly receptive to wizarding populations and so he had decided to come to this isolated island for that prime reason. Peace, quiet, and access to beautiful weather, it seemed the perfect place for him.

The rocky soil was good mostly for vineyard use and as such he grew a large portion of the grapes used for the winemaking. He never made the wine himself, it was not particularly his thing, but instead gave the grapes to his neighbors to press, ferment and sell and in return they split the profits with him. He didn't really need the money but enjoyed the instant welcome he had received from his fellow growers whom he spent a lot of time with trying to learn some Italian and discussing things pertaining to dirt and grapes.

His crops were prized since they always seemed to grow bigger and more fragrant than the rest. Some of the little old ladies babbled about a magic touch and in response he just smiled and handed them a rose or some other flower he cultivated for his own enjoyment.

It was a good life he led: surrounded by kind and generous people who never failed to invite him over for a little to eat or some company. Despite living alone he rarely truly felt lonely and reveled in his privacy.

The group finally reached him and Aria the most outspoken of the crew declared herself to be the winner even though she was a nose behind the shy Gia whose legs were longer than hers despite being younger. The boys with them tumbled to a halt, clearly not winning because there was some sort of scuffle brewing. In their haste they knocked over Aria who scowled and cuffed the nearest one lightly on the head. She was clearly in charge and not to be messed with.

Gia during the fray that ensued sidled over to Neville and grinned holding up a shell she had found on the beach. He crouched and smiled at her, accepting the shell with a quiet "grazie mille." It really was rather pretty with a pink opalescent shine and he grinned widely at her. Aria had announced a few weeks ago that Gia fancied him, which Neville found entertaining because when he was her age, he had spent more time chasing his toad Trevor, than noticing girls.

Looking up he noticed the bickering had subsided and he wandered over.

"Good morning," he grinned.

In a quick chorus they all replied. Aria, the only one confident with her English declared that they had the morning to do as they pleased and asked if they could help him, aka climb in the orchard. Neville, rolling his eyes, complied because if not now he would after the pleading in a foreign language and puppy eyes had finally gotten to him. He would rather them ask than get hurt without his knowledge and he had tending to do in the orchard anyways.

Neville grew all sorts of things. In the orchard he had a collection of citrus trees, a few apples of different varieties, and others. Also there were a multitude of berry bushes that he suspected lost most of their crop to the notoriously stained mouths of what he considered his brood. He never really minded though. He considered their fondness of him to be flattering and not a nuisance and he suspected he was the only person around who put up with their antics.

A lot of their mothers would thank him when they saw him for distracting them for hours at a time.

While the kids played, Neville trimmed, watered, tended, and weeded. Some things he did the muggle way, but he had grown quite adept at wordless spells so if the children were occupied he'd use magic. Occasionally one of the children would ask how he grew all these different plants. Awkwardly dodging the questions, he noticed that perhaps his wide array wasn't exactly subtle since some of his plants were not meant to thrive in this environment and did anyways. No one ever pressed him for answered, but he did know that some of the older farmers would toss around suspicions quietly.

After a span of time Neville assumed to be an hour from the sun, the children asked if they could go inside and watch the telly. He knew there were maybe two on the islands in native possession and agreed. He only really possessed one for their entertainment: they were absolutely in love with the cartoons. He got all his news from the owl post or the occasionally wizard tourist.

Many of the "right people" knew Neville lived here and visited occasionally to buy various potion products that he grew in a locked greenhouse behind the orchard. The Ministry would send him letters when they required something but he also sold to others. The only entrance to the magical greenhouse was through the house and it was protected in every physically and magical way he could think of. Soundproofed against his population of Mandrakes, it was a place where he grew all his more magical or dangerous plants. Someone needed to grow Tentacula because the leaves were needed for important potions, but he didn't want anyone to see or get hurt.

Neville busied himself with his plants, free to use magic now that the children were out of sight. Humming to himself, he savored the fresh air and sun. After awhile, Chloe trotted up, looking scandalized. Bending over to pick her up, he glanced at the source of her annoyance.

The youngest of the group, a boy Marco, had a particular attachment to cats and an affinity to latching onto the tail. He was maybe 6, but in Chloe's eyes, age was no excuse.

Marco finally caught up and waving his outstretched hands he declared in his most imperious voice, "Gimme kiki."

Amused by his command and thick accent, he looked a glowering Chloe in the eye and lowered her into the arms of the boy who promptly plopped down on the ground, holding a now struggling feline.

"Bad kiki," Marco proclaimed and Chloe paused and sat still. Undignified as it was, even she was loath to hurt him.

"Bad kitty," Neville murmured to himself and swore Chloe glared at him as he turned back to his gardening. It was frightening how human she acted sometimes.

Marco usually came out to keep him company. He wasn't the type to sit still and pulling the grass up and harassing Chloe was much more entertaining than staying inside.

A man after Neville's own heart, he had taken to showing Marco how to pull of the weeds, instead of uprooting his lawn. Marco did this with a determined diligence of a young boy wanting to impress.

Lost in thought, Neville spend most of the next few hours puttering around his property and checking to make sure all his plants were well with Marco following him like a duckling. The best thing about Marco was despite being observant he managed to overlook the magic use and Neville freely murmured spells to his beloved crops.

Around lunchtime, Neville brought Marco in and served lunch. Simple, but tasty, it was just a cold pasta salad. Everything in it was hand made or produced on the island and he grinned as he recalled his Gran declaring that he would never be able to live on his own, he'd die of starvation with his inability to cook. To prove her wrong, he had asked their house elf Ady to teach him and she had happily complied.

He missed her. House elves were traditionally a pureblood luxury saved for only the richest and naturally the Longbottoms had one, yet they treated her like a trusted friend. Gran still ordered her around like a servant, but she was given a small room off the kitchen as her own. It was small enough to not cause her any grief, but much bigger than the cupboards and cabinets that many were forced to call home.

Ever since his parents had been hospitalized, the large mansion was quiet and with Gran seeing to the affairs, he spent a lot of time with Ady. At first she was intimidated, but they grew to be fairly close to the point where he could easily talk to her and tell her his secrets.

Neville had no house elf here. Ady had participated in the battle and made close friends with some of Hogwarts' elves and Neville had, sadly, given her a little scarf he had seen Hermione knit, so that she could stay with her new companions. They said a tearful goodbye, but he knew Ady was happy to have a real purpose again. He had told her where he had went and she popped in from time to time to tell him all about how lovely Hogwarts was.

Truthfully he missed Hogwarts. His last year had ruined a lot of his memories, but he recalled being mostly happy for the years he spent there. He wasn't the brightest student but he had gotten close with Professor Sprout and had quickly become her all time favorite student.

Up until recently, she would visit to replenish the potion stores for Slughorn or trade secrets about the care of some of the more pesky plants. However in the past few months, her visits had declined. Her health was failing, but she still wrote often.

Lost in thought again, a habit Neville seemed to have no control over he was shaken out of his thoughts by something swooping through the air in front of him and the nervous shouts of the kids. Gia, who he had found out was afraid of birds, when she had found a nest in one of his trees and fallen out in her fright, began to cry.

Startled, Neville glanced around as a large and unfamiliar barn owl perched on the sink faucet and stuck its leg out. Antonio, Aria's brother, a twelve to her thirteen, reached out suddenly in an attempt to pet the owl and leaped back in shock as the owl twisted it's head 180 degrees to give him a disturbingly withering look. Ruffling her feathers and shuffling out of reach, she shook her leg at Neville, almost scolding him for wasting her time.

Hurriedly, he untied the letter and without a second look, the owl launched herself out the window. Staring at the thick parchment in his hand, he began to rip it open until a sob stopped him. Another owl, this time a small screech owl, swooped in and landed on the chair next to Gia. Gia screamed and dropped to the floor with a crash and the owl, ignoring her, flew closer to Neville. Dropping the letter in his beak, he stuck his leg out where a second letter and a small cloth parcel was attached. Neville retrieved it and this owl left as well.

Apparently, Gia was still worked up and discarding the letters onto the counter he walked over to the group of kids to console her.

Aria and Antonio were arguing rapidly in Italian and Marco had begun to cry because Gia was crying. The two other boys, Luka and Enrico, twins about age 8 were, in the chaos, throwing the remainder of their lunch at each other.

Some of the thrown food landed with a splat on the side of Marco's head which caused him to shriek.

Rolling his eyes, positive he had never been this noisy; Neville sat on the floor with them. Gia climbed into his lap, still sniffling and Marco began to bawl harder, because he had wanted to sit in Neville's lap and there was a glob of pasta salad sliding down into his ear. Sighing in a mix of bemusement, irritation and irrational contentment, Neville settled down onto the floor, realizing the letters just have to wait until later.

He very rarely received letters aside from missives from the Ministry or Professor Sprout. Most people didn't know where he lived, or he presumed had forgotten about him. This thought didn't depress him too much, it was just a fact of life, one that he didn't mind all too much. Plus the journey was quiet far for an owl, though he wouldn't mind a letter from Harry… or Hemione.

Pushing all those thoughts aside, he promptly forgot all about the letters, something he did a lot, still and focused on the rambunctious group in front of him.

It took close to an hour to calm his brood down and clean up the mess.

Aria and Antonio's argument went to blows and ended with the bigger Antonio sitting on a facedown Aria with her arms pinned behind her back as she screamed at the top of her lungs. He never found out what they had been fighting about, but somehow he figured he didn't quite want to know. Sibling rivalries were not something he could fathom.

Gia had needed to be wheedled into believing the owls weren't coming back and even if they did they wouldn't hurt her. She had never seen an owl before and decided they were far more terrifying than the small songbirds in the orchard. Eventually, she had calmed down and then had run out the door with a look of embarrassment on her face with the twins in hot pursuit. Apparently, they figured she needed to be chased. Luka and Enrico reminded him a bit of Fred and George with the amount of nonsense they created.

Marco watched in awe, his tears having stopped since he was distracted. Then he had told Neville that Gia was embarrassed that Neville had seen her crying. The crush was obviously bad if the six year old noticed it. Marco, patted a skulking Chloe on the head and followed Aria and Antonio out the door. I t seems as if they had forgiven each other. Antonio had his arm slung around his sister and Aria was holding Marco's hand as they walked down the hill.

A pang of sadness hit Neville as he realized as happy as he was he was utterly alone. He had never had siblings, his only close family was either dead or practically comatose, and none of the ones he thought were his school friends had even tried to seek him out.

Harry, someone he had always had an unusual relationship with had dropped off the face of the planet to all those who he didn't count his family after the battle. Ron had been friendly to him in the past, but Neville couldn't help but dislike him. After all, he got the girl. Not a word from Ginny, Luna, Seamus, or anyone. None of Dumbledore's Army seemed to even notice he had disappeared. And Hermione…

Shaking himself out of his self-pity, Neville had sat on the couch reciting in his head that Hermione was happy so he should be happy. Of course she had forgotten about him, she was probably off doing something incredible, why would she bother keeping in touch with him? It seems as if at some point during his nonverbal self-deprecation, he had dozed off.


	4. A Startling Offer

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

Chapter Four: A Startling Offer

_Neville's point of view._

Hazy late afternoon sunlight filtered through the rippled glass of the antique windows of the villa stretching slowly across the red tiled floor until it shone into Neville's eyes. With a grunt, Neville rubbed his crusty eyes and blinked in confusion. He had fallen asleep on the couch in the small den with the telly.

Sitting up abruptly, Neville lost his balance on the small loveseat and crashed to the floor, knocking his knee into the coffee table in front of the couch, sending it skittering across the floor.

Dazed, Neville thought to himself that his middle name should have been crash since it was a sound he had become uncomfortably familiar with as he assessed the damage done. With no pressing pains, he slowly rose to his feet, groaning. This was the second time today he had fallen, by no means a record, but he had the feeling eventually it would all add up into some major pain when he was old enough to complain about joint aches and stiffness.

If he actually made it to that age. Sometimes with his propensity towards mishaps, he didn't always count on it.

Chloe who had come running at the noise sat silently a few feet away with a distinct smirk on her furry little face, with her whiskers twitching in a condescending sort of amusement. If he didn't know for a fact that Draco Malfoy was still alive, he would think that Chloe was his reincarnation with the amount of time she spent silently mocking him.

Squinting out the mottled glass of the window he guessed it must be early evening. The sun was setting and the shadows were long, but the sun was still visible.

Wondering why he had napped, he remembered the chaos from earlier.

Glancing at the counter, the small clear crystal ball began to turn red in it's holder. His Remebrall was telling him he had forgotten something. As usual.

Walking closer to it, he lightly tapped it with his finger and it showed an image of the owl post. This Remebrall was a newer model that would actually show what you had been forgetting. It was extremely useful. It also was charmed to only appear as a decoration to any muggles.

First, he opened the pouch that the screech owl had been carrying he saw a collection of what looked like blackish marbles. Pulling one out he looked at it closely and seeing a small seam in one realized they were seeds.

Curious he opened the note attached to it and saw a short letter in Slughorn's familiar penmanship.

'_Neville__-_

_This year I'm working with my NEWT students on how to brew the Wolfsbane Potion. Currently the Ministry is in the works of some laws that will protect werewolves and help integrate them back into society. Needless to say, it is a rather unpopular reform so the potioneers at the Ministry turned up their nose at the task. _

_The witch responsible for the movement asked it I could maybe take on the project and I figured it would be an excellent project for my upper level students. The problem is, I need Fang Weed root and it's tricky to grow. It's not sold in any of the stores here, I've checked and Sprout said she doesn't have the coordination to care for such a finicky plant. I was thinking you could help so I send you some seeds courtesy of the Ministry._

_I know you'll do a great job. Oh and I took the liberty of adding some Tentacula seeds in there two. I could really use more leaves of that as well. All are needed by the start of term if you please. Take care. -H. Slughorn'_

Laughing aloud at Slughorn's brazenness he cinched up the pouch again. Slughorn rarely asked for permission and never apologized. He just did as he pleased. Typical. Neville had never worked with Fang Weed and it was notorious for chomping off the fingers or the grower, yet he was quite excited for the challenge.

Refolding the letter and putting it back on the table with the pouch he picked up the second note the screech owl had brought, assuming it was from his favorite professor Sprout. She hadn't sent him anything is quite awhile and he was beginning to worry. From Slughorn's note, it almost sounded as if she wasn't well, because it was unlike her to back down from a gardening request.

The back of this letter was sealed with the Hogwart's crest in red wax. Peeling it open carefully, he got a paper cut and yelped in surprise. Promptly sticking the wounded finger in his mouth, he pried the letter out one handed, rumpling it.

Thoroughly annoyed, he smoothed it open and was confused when he saw the formal letterhead.

"_Dear__Mr.__Neville__Longbottom,_

_It is with deep pleasure and bittersweet sadness that I am writing to you. Our beloved and esteemed Professor Pomona Sprout has decided she is to retire. For 50 years she had served as an educator of young minds and molder of clever futures here and our noble castle._

_When asked who should take her post, your name was the one she suggested and many of the other teachers here, including myself, think you are well suited to the job. For the past three years you have supplied us with ingredients that prove you are an apt candidate despite your lack of NEWT level qualifications._

_In that case we have decided to overlook that fact and extend our hand to you in welcome. We would love to have you join us this year and for as long as you would like to stay. Hogwarts prizes bright minds and those who can teach them._

_Term begins September 1st and all teachers are expected by August 30th. From 12 to 5 on that day, the Floo in the Headmaster's office will be open for arrivals. Also, an apparition point into the Great Hall will be enacted. Promptly at 6 is a staff dinner and meeting._

_We look forward to working with you, if that be your desire. Please return a confirmation or withdrawal by July 30th if interested._

_Hope you are well. Take care._

_Fondly,_

_Professor Minerva McGonagall'_

Neville quickly reread the letter twice more, each time pausing at "fondly." When had McGonagall ever been fond of him? Dumbstruck, stared open mouthed at the letter.

It wasn't until some of the ink began to run that Neville realized he'd been staring so long, he'd begun to drool a little, directly onto McGonagall's signature which brought out a laugh that was a little too high pitched and a tad hysterical.

Him? Teach? Sure, he loved kids and plants and Herbology but that was always going to be Professor Sprout's job. How could he possibly do the role justice? No one would follow his command. He was…Neville Longbottom. Adding the prefix Professor just sounded too strange.

Though it sort of rolled off the tongue and had a nice ring to it, repeating the moniker out loud. Images of him teaching dozens of Gia's and Marco's led him away into his mind.

Neville, distracted from his reverie by Chloe nudging his leg for food, came back to the present. Naps had always left him sleepier than before and the big news had left his mind reeling. After he dutifully fed his cat, he slumped upstairs, took a quick shower to clean off the dirt and sweat from the day, and passed out on his bed in his boxers without another thought of the past or future and completely forgetting the other letter. At some point, Chloe joined him and took her place in the crook of his arm purring gently as Neville slept fitfully, twitching through his nightmares.


	5. Giulia

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

Chapter Five: Giulia

_Neville's point of view._

Waking up with a start, Neville sat up and look around in alarm. It was still dark outside; though some of the birds had begun to sing which led him to believe it was close to dawn. Otherwise everything was silent and still. Chloe was fast asleep at the foot of his bed, twitching every few seconds as if in her dreams she was chasing those faeries again.

Groaning in sleepiness, Neville's dreams came back to him in a flash. He had been standing in the courtyard of Hogwarts again. Hagrid was carrying a dead and bleeding Harry Potter. In his dream world, Harry always really died. An enraged dream-Neville stepped forward to challenge Voldemort and just like in real life, all those years ago, Neville had been immobilized and then the Sorting Hat had been forced upon his head and lit aflame.

However, this time, no sword appeared. No one noticed his suffering. Everyone was wailing over the loss of Harry. It was as if he didn't even exist. Hermione, Ron, Luna, his Gran, everyone had frozen in shock, screaming in hysterics that the Chosen One was lost and it was all over. And in his dream, Harry never woke up.

People don't die in their own dreams, though Neville always assumed if you were to die in your dreams, you'd die in real life as well. So before dream-Neville died of asphyxiation, he awoke, trembling.

For awhile after he had left Hogwarts, Neville would wake up screaming and crying, terrified he was back on the battleground with no hope, but as time wore on it just became a reoccurring dream, not even frightening him anymore. There were other dreams, ones in which he was in Harry's shoes and had been the last-born in July. Dreams where instead he watched as if someone else as he instead of fighting against Voldemort chose to join him. Some dreams just featured piles of dead people he knew: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Hermione and others. Or dreams where Voldemort had returned again, seeking vengeance on Neville for destroying his precious Nagini and his last tie to life.

None of these dreams scared him anymore, instead they just kept his mind in the past, thinking of all the things that could have differed, all the what ifs that plagued his subconscious. No Dreamless Potion or Deep Sleep charm got rid of his broken sleep and in fact, his one attempt at the potion had left him unable to wake up at all until he had relived every second of misery and torture he'd ever experience in his life. Unwilling to try any further for fear of a repeat of that event, Neville gave into his twisted dreams and tried his best to ignore the repeated fanning of his fears.

Frustrated and tired, Neville collapsed back onto his pillow and after tossing and turning for what seem like forever, fell back into a dreamless sleep.

When he awoke again, the sun was shining into his room. Chloe was gone, probably off on her tour of her territory or finding something to eat. She was self-sufficient most of the time, though she'd make sure he knew that she did not appreciate him living his life according to her stomach's desires.

Neville got up, washed his face, this time without incident or spillage. Relieved that there was no mess to clean, he turned to head downstairs and as he walked to his door, he stubbed his toe on the chest at the foot of his bed. There was never a day in which he did not injure himself and rolling his eyes, Neville cursed quietly and grabbed his wand, pointing it at his foot and performing a quick spell to stop any swelling or bruising.

Once downstairs, he ate a quick breakfast and as he was clearing his dishes, a knock on the door disturbed him and Neville wandered to go answer the door.

Milliseconds after he began to open the door, Neville realized he was still in his boxers. Unsure of what to do, frozen in place, he thought to himself that there was no real way to avert this now awkward situation. Opening the door all the way, Neville turned a furious shade of red.

Just over the threshold was Giulia Zappa. Twenty, willowy, and beautiful, she was one of the local girls, actually Aria and Antonio's older sister. Just two years younger than him, she came to visit quite often usually with food from her mother. Her mother was convinced, a 22-year-old boy had no business living alone and as such he was probably starving. Naturally, like any Italian mother, she took it upon herself to feed him in repayment for keeping an eye on the younger ones.

Also, he was fairly certain Mother Zappa wished he would pay some more attention to her eldest, the girl standing in front of him. He suspected since it was obvious that he had money, was her age, and would be a smart match, but he was positive Giulia only saw him as a friend. How could someone as pretty as her give him a second glance.

Giulia, generally unfazed by most anything, strode over the threshold, ignoring Neville's lack of proper clothes and uncomfortable silence, and placed a basket of what smelled like bread on the table.

Turning back to him, she giggled as she noticed his state of undress.

"It's practically noon, you must have a good excuse for not yet being dressed." she mused, laughing aloud while Neville, instead of answering, merely shuffled his feet awkwardly and turned redder.

"Perhaps you should go upstairs and fix that before you faint from all the blood rushing to your cheeks," Giulia noted, kindly, but with a hint of amusement in her voice. Politely, she turned around and wandered off, most likely in search of the cat. Chloe adored Giulia.

Rushing upstairs, he practically tripped over his feet at every step. Mortified, Neville raced to his room and pulled on the first shirt he found in addition to a pair of shorts that smelled clean then returned back downstairs where he found Giulia washing a knife in the kitchen. On the counter were two sandwiches.

Smiling at her thoughtfulness, he casually leaned on the counter and reached for the food.

"Now what makes you think that's for you?" Giulia asked, her eyes twinkling with held back laughter.

Grinning back, Neville picked up the sandwich and took a bite, ignoring her jibe. She came here almost as often as her younger siblings. They had become rather close since he had arrived here. He was the only other person on the island who lived here and was her age.

"That truly is not for you!" she protested, which prompted Neville to stick his tongue out and show her his half chewed bite.

"Oh, I'm sorry, would you like it back?" he said, still chewing. Silently to himself, Neville applauded his quick retort.

Normally he found himself tongue tied around women, recalling his awkwardness with Hermione, but Giulia spent so much time teasing him that he had grown to enjoy the banter and had picked up some tips over the time he had gotten to know her.

Her English was excellent because in the tourist season, she worked to show the gawking and ignorant travelers around the island, plus her boarding school eancouraged becoming multilingual. When he had first arrived, she had taken him under her wing and shown him around, introducing him to most of the residents of the island, being one of the few who spoke to and understood him.

"You are disgusting, Neville," Giulia groused, rolling her eyes. "If I did not know better, I would think you were Antonio's age. He can not keep his mouth shut while he eats either."

Grinning, Neville retorted, "Well I suppose I'll just have to take that as a compliment."

Confusion momentarily clouded her eyes yet was replaced by a smirk.

"It wasn't a compliment though," she replied quickly, averting her eyes to cover her smile.

"Then try for a compliment," Neville replied before he even thought about what he was saying.

"You are not always the most annoying person in the room" Giulia snarked, sticking her tongue out.

Shaking his head in laughter, Neville continued to wolf down his sandwich, ignoring Giulia's pointed looks of disapproval and revulsion. Unaware of how late he had slept in, he was hungry and glad that she was here. Things tasted better when she made them for some reason.

Neville stared off in the distance as he ate, not noticing Giulia sidle up to him until she was barely a hands breadth away. She smelled good, like soap, sweat, and ocean water. Not a particularly feminine smell but heavy perfumes made him sneeze and he appreciated the simplicity of Giulia. She was so alive and engaging with her noticeable accent and endearing ability to put him at ease.

He was incredibly fond of her, but unlike Hermione, there was no mystery or intrigue there. He hardly noticed how gorgeous she was. She was practically his sister and in little ways his thoughts always compared her to Hermione.

Get a grip, man. Move on. Here's this girl, standing right next to you and all you can do is reminisce over someone whom you never had, Neville scolded himself in his head.

With a start, Neville noticed Giulia had lightly brushed his arm as she stood next to him and realized too late she had been saying something while he had been off in his head.

"I apologize, Giulia, What did you say?" Neville asked, embarrassed.

"Oh it is alright, I knew you weren't listening. Your eyes were far away. Why are you sad?" she asked bluntly, changing the topic so he would not have to even attempt to persuade her that he really had been listening. She knew him better than that anyways.

"Oh. I'm not," Neville replied, unnerved by her astute probing. It was futile to ignore it and change the topic again, she was persistent, so instead, curiosity got the better of Neville as he asked, "What makes you think I'm sad?"

"Well, it is really your eyes. They were turning gray which they only do when you are upset. I guess whatever you remember is sad, because you do not speak of it to anyone, even me," she murmured back, realizing moments later maybe she had said too much and looking away.

Then abruptly she smiled and swiftly kissed his cheek, light as a feather.

"It is not my business, I'm sorry for prying," she amended and smiled even wider, showing al her white teeth, which were, like his, a little crooked.

"Let's go to the beach, it is quite lovely out," she suggested, excitement causing her eyes to crinkle.

"But I…I really should tend to my garden," Neville retorted, weakly, knowing she would not take no for an answer.

"Mhm, " she grinned, "All you do is tend your plants. If I were one of them I would be sick of you. Well, maybe not. Now come." Grabbing his arm, she dragged him out the door not giving him a second to even respond.

Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, but Neville had a small problem with the ocean. He could hardly stay upright and balanced on land and with the undertow and unpredictability of the waves, him and moving water were hardly a good mix.

Breaching magical protocol, he always brought his wand if he went to the beach, just in case. His wand work had improved greatly since the Dumbledore's Army in the fifth year and it at least gave him the small comfort that if something were to happen, he could fix it and apologize later.

The only problem was how observant Giulia was. It was impressive how she seemed to notice every little thing, particularly the things that others missed. It reminded him of how Hermione noticed everything. Like never in his years of living there had anyone said anything about the door with no handle in his house, the one that happened to lead to the locked greenhouse, yet within a few hours of her first exploration of the house she had besieged him with questions, insisting that if she couldn't go in, the very least he could do was answer all her questions.

If it wasn't so cute and didn't remind him of Hermione so much, he dared say it would probably annoy him profusely. As they walked, Neville spent his attention by picking his way carefully down the path while Giulia chattered. He wasn't really paying attention to her talking because the way was steep and unlike Giulia who was graceful as a mountain goat, he was terrified of tumbling over the edge. Of course a halt momentum spell would keep him safe, but somehow neither Giulia's potential curiosity as to how he survived or the relentless taunting he'd receive were worth him even feigning attention.

The way the island was situated was most of it was pine forest, vineyard and farming land. The town and tourist attractions were all grouped together by the bay where the boats came in and out with news, supplies, and people. He lived a little ways outside of town up at a higher altitude. His house was nestled right on a cliff face with a drastic drop towards the shore below. It gave him a lovely view, but when he had first bought the place he had owled Professor Sprout to ask Flitwick for as many stability and immobility charms as he could think of.

The plot was small enough to not be wildly expensive, but big enough to be called a villa, only in property terms. The house was small, rustic, and classically yet sparsely furnished. He figured there were only so many coffee tables and rooms a man living by himself needed. With the downstairs being mainly one big room only partitioned off into a kitchen, a dining room, a sitting room, and a loo, and the upstairs being his room and bathroom, a guest room and bathroom and the door to the greenhouse, most of the property was used to grow his plants, not on hominess. He had grown up in big manor houses and found them to be drafty and eerie at worst and overstuffed and pompous at best.

The front of the house opened up to a patio and most of the gardening space since the back yard did not exist. A wide front path led from the town straight to his front door with a view part of the way down so he always knew when the children or anyone else was coming to visit. Plus about 200 yards from the house was a handy muggle detection spell that simultaneously alerted him to visitors and temporarily disabled all visible magic such as the dishes that automatically washed themselves and his broom and mop that acted more like a cleaning staff than inanimate objects. They had been a house-warming gift from Flitwick.

He had all sorts of cool gifts like that, because he figured the teachers felt bad for him, due to the fact he lived all by himself. Sprout knew that no one contacted him, as he had reluctantly confided in her when she asked how his Hogwarts peers were and he'd admitted to not knowing. She wrote him frequently almost as he imagined a mother would, though normally her letters arrived at night so the owl was unnoticed.

Stumbling on a rock brought Neville back into the moment. Giulia, turned around and playfully glared at him.

"If you fall, I will not risk my life to save you, so be careful," she chastised.

"Then in that case, I'll make sure to just drag you over the edge with me and use you to break my fall," Neville retorted.

"You would do no such thing," she replied, "You're far too much of a gentleman."

"You're probably right," Neville replied lamely to which she snorted and went back to kicking rocks off the ledge and watching them as the made ripples in the water below.

Behind his house was a small path that zigzagged its way down the side of the cliff to the beach below. Surprisingly this bit of shore was sandy yet hard to get to. Tourists didn't know about it, though residents of the town often held gatherings here because it was clean and free of nosy onlookers.

"Neville, why were there owls in your house? Antonio told me that Gia peed her pants when two came into your kitchen, though I'm not sure I understand Aria seemed to think they were delivering letters to you. She claimed they both were holding post in their beaks which is ridiculous, no?"

Looking up at her, he quickly scanned his mind for an answer. Of course she would ask this, the whole town probably knew. Antonio liked to talk and Aria liked to talk bigger.

"Erm, just wild birds. I left the window open," Neville spit out, not even convincing himself.

"Alright, but owls are nocturnal and this happened in the middle of the afternoon…coincidence or do you have owl pets in addition to little Chloe?" Giulia asked slyly, knowing he was hiding something from her.

"You ask too many questions," he said simply, hoping she'd drop it, knowing she'd do the usual shrug and attempt to grill him about it again later.

Scowling at him, she turned her back to him and continued down a few steps, hopping off the edge when it was low enough. Landing in the sand, she broke off at a run towards the water stopping short as a bigger wave crashed a rolled up. Trying to evade it, she ran backwards and fell ending up soaked.

"Pretty lady got ya!" Neville called out, laughing out loud at her as she scrambled back to her feet in a futile attempt to retain her dignity.

She turned a shot him a look of contempt and turned around pretending to ignore him which just made him laugh louder.

"You've got some sand on you…right there," he chortled as he gestured to all of her.

Spinning impossibly quickly she bounded over to him and before he could even react jumped practically on top of him giving him a rather wet and sandy bear hug. For a second it was just clowning around and then he realized she hadn't yet let go.

"You're getting me all dirt," Neville choked out, glad that her head was buried in his shoulder and she couldn't see how red his cheeks must be. His heartbeat quickened and his slacks suddenly felt uncomfortably tight.

"You smell good," she mumbled though he had a sneaking suspicion she didn't realize she'd voiced that particular thought out loud.

Feeling uncomfortable, Neville cleared his throat and awkwardly patted her on the back. Lurching away from her, he noticed that she hardly looked fazed which was good. She hadn't noticed his obvious reaction to her closeness. That would have made things exceedly awkward. Thinking he must be all sorts of flushed he quickly walked toward the water to give him a second regain his normal pulse trying to think about anything other than how her chest had been pressed to his.

"You do smell…good that is," Giulia persisted coming up behind him and linked her arm through his, "You smell like dirt, and sweat, and wind. It's nice."

"Wind doesn't have a smell," he replied, changing the subject, "and I think smelling like dirt is bad."

"Not my point, Nev," she said simply, looking not at the ocean as he was, but up at him, he noted through his peripheral vision.

"You've ruined my clothes," he continued, again trying to cut through the uncomfortable-ness surrounding them.

"You're acting like a woman. Oh dear, you have some dirt on your clothes, whatever will you do? You sound like some of my friends from the academy," she returned drily, rolling her eyes, "I thought boys didn't like worrying about there clothes or their looks."

"Well if you hadn't noticed, my looks are all I have," Neville commented, abet sarcastically. Growing up with his Gran had giving him some wit though usually he kept it to himself. Although with Giulia sarcasm was required to keep up.

"I noticed," she said, more to herself than to him, though the open air carried her murmured response to him anyways.

He looked at her curiously and she looked away. Her cheeks were a tad pink, though it was probably from the salty wind.

"Come on, let's go into town, speaking of my friends, some of the girls from my school are due in soon at the docks. They're coming to visit and vacation here and I'd love to introduce you to them! They've always wanted to meet you."

"So you talk about me to the girls?" He questioned, obviously knowing the answer, but just looking to razz her a bit.

"Erm, yes of course! What else is there to talk about at an all girl's school? Clothing? We're not twelve anymore…" she said bluntly, not even looking back to him for approval.

"Creep," he replying, drawing a stuck out tongue over the shoulder in response. Giulia went away for each school year to some girl's school on the mainland. Her father was a wealthy winemaker and owned one of the larger vineyards and maintained that education was important. Even for girls, which Neville was quite impressed with. Plus it was sad to imagine Giulia's intelligence going to waste as some farmer's wife.

Something in him contracted at the thought of her getting married. They were close enough and she was blunt enough that he knew she had hung around with boys while at school. Her boarding school took them on trips with the allied male boarding school. Most of her flings were short lived though. She had little patience for the types of guys who seemed to flock to her for her looks.

"Come on, Nev, you're slower than my grandmother!" Giulia called over her shoulder and Neville jogged to catch up.

They got into town in time for the boat to dock. Immediately a small gaggle of twenty-year-old girls caught his eye and it seems noticed him and Giulia as well. With some ear piercing shrieks they ran to her and she disappeared for a few moments under flailing arms and waving purses. Rolling his eyes at their…predictability, his eyes scanned the other people coming onto the dock. Tourists mostly on this trip and then someone caught his eye.

A woman with bushy brown hair and a familiar walk looked around quickly, almost nervously as if checking to make sure she wasn't being followed. Picking up her luggage she turned to where he was standing and took a few steps until she reached one of the sailors. A teenager from the island he rode back and forth all the time. A few quick words and the boy looked around and smiled pointing to him as all in the same moment she followed his finger.

Her doe eyes widened and she smiled nervously, frozen in place.

Neville, in some bizarre state of shock, didn't move, just stood, stock still in place. The commotion around him went silent as the blood roared in his ears.

A hand on his arm brought him back, just barely saving him from passing out.

"Nev, these are my friends An…. Nev… Neville?" she trailed off. He wasn't paying any attention to her and hadn't noticed her look of irritation.

Hermione was a few feet in front of him.

"Hermione?" he stammered.

"Hello Neville. Long time no see. You look well…" Hermione started and than stopped awkwardly. With her stop, her thin smile crumpled and she looked an inch away from tears.

"Hermione?" he repeated, unsure of what to do, took a step forward and hugged her. Alarmingly she started to sob and buried her head into his shoulder, where Giulia's face had been maybe twenty minutes ago.

Everything seemed to stand still and he didn't even notice as Giulia's friends slung their arms around an obviously shell-shocked Giulia and led her away. He continued to not notice as Giulia glanced back her confusion turning to sadness then to jealousy than to anger in way only a girls can.

All Neville noticed was the crying woman in his arms and his abnormally loud heartbeat. His poor heartbeat was taking a major hit today.


	6. A Blast From The Past

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

Chapter Six: A Blast from the Past

_Neville's point of view._

After Hermione had released him, she had seemed humiliated to say the least. He'd never seen her cry and not only was he confused, but in retrospect, he was appalled by his behavior.

In his complete surprise, he had been less than welcoming. He had merely picked up Hermione's small suitcase, slung his arm around her and led her a little way through town. Instead of having her walk all the way up the road to his home, they ducked into an alley and he offered her his hand and side-along-apparated with her up to his home.

She had suggested that maybe she was intruding and would stay at a hotel and he smiled insisting that it was no trouble and that with tourist season in full swing any room she found would be monstrously expensive and with that she argued no further.

She didn't say much as he led her inside and she didn't ask to look around. Now past her embarrassment and awkwardness, she just seemed exhausted. There were noticeable bags under her big brown eyes and it seemed more than evident that she was less getting less than a healthy amount of sleep.

Quietly, not bothering her with questions he led her up the stairs followed by the curious stare of Chloe who was sitting on the banister. Hermione half-heartedly reached out to pet her and surprisingly Chloe narrowed her eyes and hopped off the rail and ran upstairs into Neville's room.

"Friendly cat, Nev," Hermione had said, he remembered grinning at the irony. Crookshanks had always been a piece of work and yet she had claimed he was nothing more than a big ball of fluff and now she was dissing his cat?

He showed her the guest bedroom and she turned and smiled at him, genuinely for the first time since she had mysteriously appeared. He had no idea why she was here or what was going on and somehow had the feeling now was not the right time to ask.

"I know this is all so sudden and I'm being terribly rude, but would it be okay if I just slept and got my bearings. I've been traveling for awhile and I think I could use some time to just…well…get my thoughts together and…" she had asked and before she even finished he had smiled and nodded, opening the door for her telling her to make herself comfortable.

Suddenly, Hermione hugged Neville around the waist and before he could reciprocate, backed away, almost shyly, turning and walking into the room.

Neville turned to go back downstairs and heard a whispered, "Thank you so much for everything, Nev," and smiling to himself he made his way back down the stairs without turning around.

In the kitchen, Neville leaned against the counter while Chloe watched him from the corner. He fed her as he tried to get his mind together.

Today had been alarming at best. All thoughts of Giulia and their awkward trip the beach had been pushed out of his mind. As his stomach growled he thought about the girl who was now upstairs in his guest room. He quickly ate the first thing in the fridge he saw, which happened to be the second half of the sandwich Giulia had made for him earlier that day. Washing it down with some milk from the carton, a habit Gran had hated, he fed Chloe, whispered "_Nox_" and went back upstairs to his room.

Hermione was sleeping in the room next door to his. Next. Door. Was. Hermione?

A flabbergasted Neville was lying on his bed. Still in his sandy clothes from earlier, he couldn't bring himself to get up and change. His head spinning he eventually fell asleep.

_Hermione's point of view._

Rolling her shoulders stiffly, Hermione walked up the stairs from to dock to board the boat. It was a small vessel filled mostly with gawking, camera-flashing tourists. The natives stood out as the people wearing the muted clothing and not looking around at the beautiful water or the impressive scenery.

Following a small gaggle of girls towards the back of the boat, Hermione leaned against the rail and braced herself as the engine roared into life and the boat lurched away from the pier.

Sighing aloud, Hermione zoned out as she watched the water of the Tyrrhenian Sea zoom by. The boat was chopping the water up leaving in its wake long white whipped up waves stretching yards and yards back from where she came.

Rubbing her eyes, Hermione realized how completely exhausted she was. In her trip so far, she hadn't had a moment to pause and think and the ride to the island was giving her that unwanted luxury. She was running away and everyone, including herself, knew it. She wasn't even sure why she was running to him.

Neville had always been her friends for as long as she could remember. From the moment she and her parents had nervously entered King's Cross, she remembered the boy with the toad. Small and chubby then, she recalled being slightly taller than him. When her parents had reached the space between station 9 and station 10 they had paused unsure of how to continue until a tall and austere looking woman strode right into the wall followed by a toddling boy of 11 pushing and small trolley with a toad sitting on top. Without a second though, Hermione had barreled through the magical wall and on the other side bumped into him, sending him flying.

They had been fast friends ever since, mostly because in that collision, his toad Trevor had leaped out of the way and in an effort to stop the tall woman, Neville's grandmother, from yelling at him, she had volunteered to help him find the toad.

Even before Harry and Ron, Neville had comforted her when they teased her, like everyone else. She would always remembered how he had looked her genuinely in the face and said, "Well, 'Mione, they don't know what their missing."

He was the first person to ever call her 'Mione. In her muggle schools everyone had called her Jean, because even the teacher hadn't known how to pronounce her name correctly.

An outside voice pulled her back to the present, much to her chagrin. The group of girls she had followed on board had gathered a few feet away from her and were talking in a mixture of high pitched voices and obnoxious giggles.

She had never had much tolerance for girls, particularly in groups and this particular gathering seemed a prime example of why she had never had many girl friends.

Crossing her eyes in annoyance, she bent to grab the handle of her luggage so she could move upwind of their intolerable voices and overbearing perfume when she heard one of them mention the name Neville.

Frozen, half bent over, Hermione listened closer, but couldn't hear very well. Normally opposed to eavesdropping, living with Ron for so long had made her loosen her morals in that regard. Subtly moving closer, Hermione listened as covertly as she could.

"I wonder what he looks like," one of the girls, a skinny and busty Arabic looking girl cooed, "From how Giules describes him, he's six feet of pure unadulterated Greek god."

Hermione shook her heard in confusion. Neville wasn't a common name and although she was sure he lived on this island, maybe there were two?

"Shereen, don't be an idiot. He's probably just some awkward village boy. I'm sure he's tan and dark haired just like every other Italian boy, right Kira?" another of the girls admonished in an obvious American accent, turning to the third.

"Nah, Court, Sherry is probably right. You've seen our Giules, she's five feet seven inches of pure beauty. She's not some dumb country girl and I doubt she'd fall for some run of the mill moron," the tall black girl, Kira, replied, drawing a smile from who she assumed was Shereen and a scowl from the blonde Courtney girl.

"See, Courtney?" the girl Shereen spat, sticking her tongue out in the Courtney girl's direction. "Plus didn't Giules say that he was British or something. I mean I remember her talking about the accent in depth. She was practically purring in adoration."

"Yeah," Kira replied, her face musing. "I guess we'll just have to ask her to introduce us to this Neville fellow."

From their the conversation turned to that of hoping the weather stayed nice enough to get a decent tan, a topic Hermione was less that interested in.

Butterflies began to fill her stomach. What if she had made a horrible mistake in coming here? Neville sounded like he was happy with this Giulia girl. She knew it was Neville. How many British Neville's could there possibly be on one small Italian island?

Yet here she was probably about to interrupt his life with her obviously unwanted presence. It had been something like four years since she had last seen him at the memorial service at Hogwarts. He had said that he'd write to her and she had never gotten a letter. She in turn had tried to compose a letter, yet never actually managed to get all the way to signing her name and sending it off until the other day.

She had been afraid to owl him. If Ron had found out he would have been upset and jealous and plus now it was obvious that Neville had forgotten her completely.

Wallowing in self-pity and nervousness, Hermione was jolted in alarm as the boat began to slow down approaching the shore. Before she knew it, they were docked and tied in and people were beginning to clog the exit. Back to following the Kira, Courtney and Shereen girl, she walked down the steps onto the dock looking around in wonder.

The island was green hills with farmland and forest going in ever direction. To her left past the end of the marina and shore was a steep and a fairly tall cliffnot was topped with what looked like from here, a typical Italian villa, probably belonging to some rich muggle celebrity or politician. Straight in front of her, the docks let out into this picturesque-ly old shore town that looked straight off a postcard.

Shrieks tore through the air as the three girls from the boat went careening toward a tall girl dressed in an olive green dress that complimented her olive toned skin in a way that made Hermione consciously aware of how pale and slight she was.

Behind the girl, who she assumed was the Giulia girl was a tan and obviously well toned man in long shorts and a white tee shirt. He was brutally handsome with lighter tousled hair and an easy smile. He was laughing and looked like her was the girl's brother and was standing close to the her but not making any sort of romantic contact to make her think he was involved with her. Then girl disappeared under the hugs of her friends and he slipped out a view.

Turning to a dockworker she smiled and tapped him on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry, do you speak English?" she asked.

"Sure, of course for a pretty girl like you," he replied smoothly flashing a large smile that made Hermione blush.

"I'm sorry, but could you point me in the direction of the house of a man named Neville Longbottom? I heard he lives here on the island," she queried, nervous that she had gotten the location wrong.

"Hm, can't say I know the guy," he said slyly to which Hermione's face fell.

"Wait, wait, I was just joking! Of course, I know Neville, everyone here knows him," the boy continued, obviously embarrassed by his failed flirting. Turning around he gestured up to the top of the cliff villa.

"He lives up there, but actually, he's right over there," the boy said pointing toward the group of girls she had just been watching.

Looking over, a smile back on her face, she craned to look around the girls for Neville when the boy she had seen standing with them had met her eye. In a flash, his face contorted into one of shock and pain, ignoring the Giulia girl who was tugging on his arm.

Brushing her off he took a step forward as it clicked in Hermione's head that Neville would obviously not look like the pale, emaciated thin, and sick boy she knew from four years ago. Obviously he would have grown up, regained health, filled out and tanned, living in such a warm climate.

Nervously, Hermione walked over to him unsure of the emotions lying behind his face. As she got closer she realized this was without a doubt Neville. The hair was the same color and the expression on his face was one that she recognized from when he tried to master a particularly difficult spell in DA meetings. The Giulia girl had been talking to him and looked around in confusion, finding the direction of his gaze and looking at Hermione wondering why Neville wasn't listening and was staring at her instead.

"Hermione?" Neville said questioningly in a voice she would have known in her sleep.

She began to reply, stopping to compose herself. Who was this boy and how could she have possibly missed out on her friend Neville turning into him? Close to tears, Hermione looked down trying not to cry as her regrets came back, full force.

"Hermione?" Neville repeated this time his voice cracking in an alarmingly endearing and familiar way. Before she knew it, his arms were around her and she was crying, unaware of the people around her staring.

The girls from the boat were looking on in distaste as the Giulia girl looked distinctly jealous as the girls pulled her away. Yet, Hermione didn't notice any of this with her face buried in Neville's shoulder.

A strong, broad, obviously muscled shoulder.

For a few minutes, she just stood there crying and Neville rubbed her back in small circles as her tears ran dry.

When she was finished, she backed up, looking up into Neville's face. He still looked confused, but covered it by taking her bags and her arm and leading her into the town.

They walked for a bit and then veered into a small alley.

"Do you mind?" Neville asked, extending his callused hand. "Apparition is much faster than walking."

Taking his hand she felt the tug behind her navel and a strong warm grip on her right hand. Appearing suddenly in front of a beautiful and simple house, Hermione chafed, falling over herself to suggest that she didn't want to impose.

With a chuckle, Neville told suggested she was being stupid, something no one ever called her and she followed him inside without further complaint.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the house, she yawned. Neville looked at her over his shoulder, still holding her hand. Walking they came to a staircase where a magnificent cat was following their movements with incredibly intelligent eyes.

As they drew closer, she unconsciously reached a hand out to pet the beautiful creature, feeling a sharp pang as she thought of her now gone Crookshanks. Yet, the cat leaped off the banister and sauntered away, evading her hand.

In surprise, Hermione thought to herself that it was weird because cats usually loved her. Neville led her up the stairs and stopped in front of a closed door.

In a rush, half stammered apologies poured out of her in an attempt to excuse her behavior. She was being horrifyingly rude and Neville had been so gracious as to not ask questions, though she could tell by his eyes that he was curious.

Raising one hand and pushing in the door, Neville silenced her with a smile

"There's a bathroom in there that you are welcome to use. Clean towels are in the closet in there as well as anything else you might need. Left faucets are for hot water and right are for cold. My room is down the hall if you need anything and if your hungry you're welcome to anything in the kitchen you can find. Otherwise, you seem tired so I'll let you sleep. We can talk tomorrow," Neville said, ever the graceful host.

Hermione, touched by his kindness, hugged him spontaneously. Quickly, she realized how uncouth her behavior was as he noticeably stiffened and turned to her room and fled as Neville turned to walk down the stairs.

Quietly she murmured a thanks though she wasn't positive Neville could hear her, he paused for a moment on the stairs as if he had.

Closing the door behind her, she looked at the room. Neville had placed her bag right inside the doorway. The room was beautiful with plaster walls and a large window opening out to the ocean. Slipping her shoes off, she padded lightly to the window and looked out, the view leaving her breathless. The back of his house was nestled up right to the edge of the cliff in a way that she knew if she were to look down, she'd have vertigo. It was the house she could she from the port.

The ocean stretched out to the horizon where a line of darkish fuzziness met the sky. She assumed the island was close enough to see the mainland if you looked carefully. The boat ride hadn't been that long and she knew they weren't too far away from Italy proper.

Yawning again, this time more loudly, Hermione closed the curtains and wandered to the door in her room that led to a small bathroom with a sink, toilet, and shower. A small linen closet opened up to a supply of gray towels. Absentmindedly she wondered to herself what person in their right mind bought gray towels. Grabbing one, she turned to the sink, washed her face and brushed her teeth with a toothbrush and some toothpaste also found in the closet. Man, did Neville have overnight visitors often?

Yawning again, Hermione flicked the lights off with her wand, pulled off her jeans and top and fell onto the bed in her underwear, passing out within moments of her head hitting the pillow.


	7. Snooping and Sneak Attacks

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

Chapter Seven: Snooping and Sneak Attacks

_Hermione's point of view._

With a stretch, Hermione pushed back the covers on the bed she was currently lying in. She didn't really want to get up, the mattress was like lying on a cloud, but nature was calling urgently.

Still half asleep, she climbed out of bed and when her feet met the floor she awoke suddenly.

Looking down, the floor was tiled. In her room at home, she had carpet. For a few seconds Hermione groggily looked around in confusion, but the room she was in was dark with only a sliver of light filtering in above the curtain rod.

Getting up, she crossed to the window and pushed the curtains open wondering where she was and whimpered as she staggered backward. With the curtains pushed back, light flooded into the room and as Hermione blinked the sunspots out of her eyes, the past few days came back to her in a rush.

She was on some small Italian island whose name she couldn't for the life of her remember at the moment. This was Neville's house. Curious, she looked back outside and even more than the evening before the view astounded her.

Neville's home was perched high above the aquamarine sea that sparkled almost as if someone had taken every sequin in the world and tossed it into the ocean. To her left looking down was the port she had arrived in yesterday and boats zooming in and out of the harbor. The buildings were otherworldly, built into the land and rising haphazardly from the shore looking from here like building blocks in various shades of tan and rusty red. The streets teamed with people, but from here all you could hear was the ocean, the wind, and the sea birds.

Looking down she noticed the drop was not as steep as she recalled and a small path sloped down to a sandy shore about 30 feet below. Craning her head out the window, she realized the path led all the way up to the ground level of the house, curving off to the right, wrapping around the house's far right corner. Hermione noted in her head to remember to ask Neville if it was a safe path to use because the ocean looked tempting.

Looking back up at the view, it hit her that with the sun up past the middle of the sky, she had slept in past noon. Embarrassed, she turned back around to get ready and find Neville and paused again.

The room Neville had put her in was gorgeous as well. Sparsely furnished, the centerpiece of the room was the bed she had slept on. Rising high off the ground, the bed was canopied and made of a curiously pale white wood. The duvet was a simple brick red color with eggshell white sheets and a mere two pillows instead of the dozens that most people favored. At the foot of the bed was a chest made of the same pale wood, which when she opened it held extra bedding and a richly made quilt in a matching but darker shade of red. There was a small bedside table on which there was a red vase of what looked like fresh flowers, but upon closer inspection were fake, charmed to be perfect white chrysanthemum replicas, down to the light scent, a remarkable and subtle bit of magic.

Next to the door was her suitcase, a bureau made of the white wood, and a large upright mirror also made of the same wood as everything else in the room. Curious, Hermione looked closer, ignoring her reflection and ran her finger along the grain of the frame. It was smooth, with almost a grainy feel as if it was covered with small particles. She had never seen anything like it. Leaning closer she scratched it a bit with her nail and sniffed the spot. It smelled like salt and brine.

Looking around she saw the same wood used as the molding on the ceiling of the walls, as the doorframe to the hall, the bathroom, and what she assumed was a closet, and the doors themselves. Walking into the bathroom again, the décor remained the same, a white wood cabinet with a brick red marble countertop and sink. The floor and shower were tiled with the same red clay tile and the toilet was a simple white porcelain affair, with the water basin of it holding another red vase of white chrysanthemums also deceptively fake.

In awe of the simplicity yet elegance of the décor, she had forgotten her reason for waking in the first place until she entered the bathroom. Smiling at her distraction she walked back into the main bedroom fished her toiletries out of her bag and returned to the bathroom.

A half hour later, she emerged in a towel with another one wrapped around her head. Breathing deeply she felt awake and content for the first time in weeks. She picked her suitcase up and propped it open on top of the chest at the foot of the bed and began to remove things and put them into drawers. As she was hanging up her last dress, a banging on the bedroom door startled her. The banging continued in short spurts for a few seconds followed by a muffled howl. Approaching the door, she paused again when she heard a Neville's distant voice echo.

"Chloe, shut up." Neville had called, which brought a smirk to her face. She had used to tell Crookshanks that all the time.

Another howl, louder this time, with a distinct edge, made her smile fully. Yes, that sounded like the response Crookshanks usually gave as well.

Opening the door a crack, it was pushed further in by who she guessed was Chloe.

The cat who had snubbed her last night strolled into the room, hopped up onto the chest and into Hermione's now empty luggage. Turning thrice, she plopped down and closed her eyes. Cats…

Grinning, Hermione, still in her towel, walked over and sat down next to the suitcase and reached out to pet Chloe. Before her hand touched fur, Chloe's lantern like eyes snapped open wide then narrowed at the hand that was invading her personal space. Baring her teeth in a quiet but obvious sign, Hermione backed off. She knew that cats were finicky at best and tried not to take it personally.

Rolling her eyes, she got back up, dressed in a flowy blue shirt and some khaki day shorts and hung her towels up in the hooks on the bathroom. Facing the mirror, she picked up her wand, where she had left it next to the sink last night, and wordlessly spell dried her hair throwing it up into a casual ponytail.

Eying her face in the mirror, she leaned in close to examine. The bags under her eyes were still there, but the purple color had faded after her absurdly long night's sleep. Her skin was pale from lack of sunlight and the few freckles she had on her nose stood out in violent contrast. Her lips were dry and cracked and her skin was frightful. Taking her wand, she prodded at a few zits in her hairline. Yes, even witches get zits.

She couldn't imagine what she would do if Lavender hadn't told her about the Blemish-Be-Gone spell she had found in TeenWitch magazine in their fourth year. Smiling at the memory, she remembered that was when she still liked Lavender. Her smile turned to a grimace as she thought about the last time she'd seen Lavender.

She had saved an unconscious Lav from Fenrir Greyback during the battle but signs of her encounter were obvious on her pretty face to this day. She had spent weeks in St. Mungo's insisting that the Healers try again to fix the scars, but with no luck. She ended up looking a lot like Bill Weasley, but to Lavender that was the end of her world and not many people had seen her out and about since.

Hermione stopped in from time to time partly because she felt obligated, but also because this girl was so different from the Lavender who had spent all her time sucking Ron's face at school, the main reason Hermione had grown to dislike her.

She was quiet and subdued, not the brightest, but always happy to chatter. It was obvious that she was still incredibly bitter, but Hermione enjoyed sitting with her over a cup of tea and just shooting the breeze talking about normal girl things.

Everyone expected her to be brilliant, even Ginny who came to her for advice constantly, but with Lavender she could just talk about skin care and what kinds of colors flattered her skin tone. It was nice to have someone just take you at face value every once in awhile. The last time she had seen Lavender, she had promised to be one of Hermione's bridesmaids.

The memory left a violent pang of grief in her abdomen and pushing away from the counter shaking the memories out of her head, she walked back out into the main room and to door, opening it and wandering out to the hallway.

It was cozily lit, yet there was no obvious sign of a light source. To her right was the stairs leading to the main level and to her left was a short hall culminating in a door at the end. Walking toward it, she passed Neville's room, which she looked in and saw was furnished in precisely the same way as hers, but looked much more lived in.

Knowing she shouldn't, she walked into his room and looked around. On top of his mirror was a large hat with a stuffed vulture on it. Seeing it she smiled and remembered a boggart version of Snape dressed in that very hat.

Peering into his bathroom, she expected a mess. Ron always left the bathroom a sty, yet Neville's was pristine, the only evidence that it was being used was a toothbrush on the counter and some magazines stacked on the floor. She noted the magazines were about gardening.

Turning back around to the room, movement caught her eye. On the bureau were rows of pictures. Drawing closer she saw a man and a woman smiling and waving excitedly. The man looked a lot like Neville today except paler and wearing glasses. The woman had close cropped hair and Neville's crooked smile. Next to that picture was one of Neville's grandmother and him. Neville looked displeased to be the subject of the cameraman's picture, while his grandmother looked rather emotionless, her only real movement being a semi constant fixing of Neville's hair.

There were more pictures, ones of people she didn't recognize. One held a group of people she recognized as the original Order of the Phoenix, all looking quite grim.

And then there was a picture of Luna and Ginny. Luna was wearing yellow and dancing. Or was she fending of Wrackspurts. Hermione could never really tell. Ginny was looking on in amusement. Then there was a smiling picture of Professor Sprout and Professor Slughorn with the outside of the house here as their backdrop. That surprised Hermione. She hadn't heard from any of the Hogwarts teachers since the memorial. A little flare of jealousy spiked in the pit of her stomach, which she pushed back quickly, embarrassed. How could she begrudge Neville of friends when she had so obviously disappeared from his life.

There were a few muggle pictures distinguishable by their lack of movement within the frames. One held a photo of Neville sitting at a bar with a line of withered old Italian men grinning over a glass of wine. Another showed Neville covered in a group of grinning children, the two smallest of them, a boy and a girl sitting on his shoulders. This picture made her smile. Neville looked more at ease than she had ever seen him.

Another picture caught her eye causing a surge of jealousy. It was a larger frame with space for several pictures all with him and the Giulia girl. One she was leaning on him and smiling to the camera while he stuck his tongue out, another was from the back with the two of them walking on a beach, another was a picture of her smiling widely, holding a diploma and dressed in cap and gown with Neville putting up two fingers behind her head. It was obvious they were incredibly close.

Then there was a picture of her, Harry and Ron. This one was moving. Harry was adjusting his glasses, she was fixing Harry's hair while laughing and Ron was eying Hermione with a familiar look. One she hadn't seen from him in a month. Feeling nauseous, she turned to leave the room.

Rubbing her temple, Hermione noticed the door at the end of the hallway again. From here she could tell it didn't have a handle. Walking closer, she gave it a little push to see if it swung inward and it didn't budge.

After feeling around the door hinge and poking every knot in the wood she saw, she gave up and walked back to her room and grabbed her wand. Returning to the door, she poked it with her wand, reciting every spell she could think of for unlocking things. After a few minutes, she just stood in front of it, glaring, in hopes the door would bend beneath her anger.

"Oi, Hermione. What are you doing?" Neville asked, making her jump in surprise.

Turning around, visibly shaking in surprise, she saw Neville at the top of the stairs leaning against the wall.

"How long have you been standing there?" Hermione asked, trying to cover her embarrassment.

"Long enough to know that the brightest witch of our age can't figure out how to open a door that is meant to stay closed." Neville replied with a grin. He obviously was more amused by her snooping than upset by it.

Speechless, Hermione just stared open mouthed at the response. Neville normally wasn't a smart ass and here he was teasing her. She had to admit she kind of liked it. Harry and Ron had always had her up on this pedestal. Sure they had joked around, but rarely had they ever insinuated that she was dumb. She didn't think they'd ever dare.

"Hm, a speechless Hermione. Now this is a girl I bet most of the Hogwarts professors would have killed to meet," Neville sassed, walking closer to her.

Ignoring the jibe, Hermione looked back at the door confused.

"What's through here, Neville?"

"Narnia." Neville joked lightly.

"You know C.S. Lewis?" Hermione asked, astounded. Neville was as pureblood as they came.

"Yeah, Giulia was reading them and I was curious."

Looking at her feet, Hermione didn't reply.

Neville, realizing how awkward things had just got changed the subject.

"Here, you'll need these," Neville said handing her a pair of red earmuffs while adjusting a pair of his own over his ears.

Then, lightly putting his hand on her shoulder, he slipped by and placed the palm of his hand flat on the middle of the door and it swung inward to a set a dimly lit stairs leading down a few feet at the bottom another door. The stairs and banister and door in here were also made of the white wood.

"Neville, what kind of wood is this?" she asked as they made his way down the stairs. He didn't answer.

Realizing he probably couldn't hear her with the earmuffs on, she reached forward and pulled one of them off his ear and began to repeat her question instead frightening Neville so badly, he fell backward and slid the rest of the way down the stairs landing in a crumpled heap at the bottom.

Frozen, Hermione stood there, unsure of what to do when Neville groaned and began to stand up.

"Merlin, Hermione! Did you come here just to try and kill me?" he asked looking up the stairs at her standing there. She must have been wearing quite the look of horror cause Neville began to roar with laughter.

"Hermione, would you relax! You look like you're expecting me to hit you! You know me, or well you used to," a quick look of remorse flashing through his face, replaced by a genial smile, "I fall down the stairs a dozen times a week. You know how clumsy I am. Oh, and shut your mouth, you look like a fish."

Snapping out of her cursory dismay to one of mock outrage instead she demanded, "Neville Longbottom, you take that back! I do not look like a fish."

"Yeah, you do," he retorted contorting his face into a replica of what hers must have just looked like. She noticed that he was right; it did look like a drowning fish. But on him, it was hot. Wait did she seriously just think that Neville was hot?

"Anyways," Hermione said, changing the subject," I asked what kind of wood this is."

"Oh, wow, only you would ask a question like that. It's cool isn't it?" he said, running his hand on the banister looking proud.

"It's all driftwood. Professor Sprout stayed here for a week when I first moved in and helped me charm it all into furniture and doors and the like. Muggle's can't use driftwood for anything, they don't know how to work with it. It's basically petrified from salt exposure, but it's brittle too," Neville trailed off.

"I'm rambling when there is work to be done. I have Mandrakes to repot. I could use the help, if you don't mind," he asked expectantly.

Mandrakes? Where was Neville leading her?

"Sure thing, though I haven't done it in years." She replied following him to the foot of the stairs.

"Eh, it's the same basic concept except mine are all teenagers. I'll give you the boys, they don't put up as much of a fight," he said kindly, snapping his earmuffs back on and gesturing for her to do the same.

Turning to open the door, they walked into a large green house full of the most interesting plants she had ever seen. She imagined this is what the upper level greenhouses at Hogwarts looked like, though she had never been inside. She never really was very good at tending plants. Every time she tried, she'd end up forgetting to water it and then come in to find it wilting and beyond repair.

But looking around she saw that only the greenhouse roof was transparent with the rest of the walls being a thick opaque glass. In the far corner was a wooden shed with an open front housing what she recognized to be Devil's Snare. Neville must have built the shed around it to keep the sun off it. She knew that when pruned, its stalk was used powdered and pressed for all sorts of potions.

Continuing to look around wide-eyed, she realized the fortunes in plants Neville had growing here. There was a large table full of waving and snapping Venomous Tentacula whose leaves were worth several galleons apiece.

Shaken out of her thoughts, Neville called loudly over his shoulder for her to follow him.

"Neville, why is there a door in your house leading to a greenhouse?"

"Uh, it's where I keep the magical plants. I have the walls spelled against magical leakage, intruders, sounds, etc. etc."

"Oh." Hermione said simply. It was a neat place and everywhere she looked there was something interesting to examine. On the back wall next to the Devil's Snare shed were several bookshelves full of rather large tomes. Fascinated she walked closer and opened one of the clear doors. All the books were ones she had never seen before which for her was surprising. After her work in the Ministry, she thought she had seen every magical book there was in existence, if not read it.

Making a note to look closer later, she went to help Neville.

They spent the majority of the afternoon tending to the Mandrakes and afterward she watched him prune, pluck and pat the rest of the plants. On his way past the Tentaculae, a tendril reached out and snapped at him and he turned and scowled at it. She was stunned to see it slither back acting distinctly ashamed.

Then Neville proceeded to clear off the table next to them. Hermione approached to help him, but he waved her off.

Gesturing it was okay to take off the earmuffs since the Mandrakes had stopped crying from their traumatic replanting he explained.

"Look, I know you want to help, but I doubt you want one of these monster's biting you," he said, waving toward the Venomous Tentacula, which cowered, looking appropriately scolded.

"Anyways, I've been bitten enough times that I'm okay, but I'd be careful if I were you, just don't stray too close to them and you'll be fine. Then again I wouldn't stand too close to any of the plants in this area of the greenhouse. I arranged it by level of difficulty to care for and here are the challenging plants. These are the beauties that like to bite back," he said grinning.

"Well what can I do? I don't want to get in the way."

"Erm… I'm actually going to plant a new breed right now so if you wouldn't mind helping with that, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure, what have you got?" she asked, unable to contain her natural curiosity.

Pulling a leather pouch out of his back pocket, he tossed it to her. She opened it up to see what looked like black marbles.

"Nev, are these Fang Weed seeds? How on earth did you get a hold of them? They're Class A Untradeable objects. Contraband, in other words and I'm pretty sure the Ministry only dispenses them to licensed growers."

Neville looked at her blankly for a moment and then roared with laughter.

"Hermione, relax. Do you really think I'm that stupid? I'm licensed to grow even the most dangerous of plants. You honestly think I would go breaking rules. I'm not Harry or Ron, remember."

"Okay…sorry…" Hermione replied looking properly abashed.

"Jeez it's like being back at Hogwarts with everyone always expecting me to be a bumbling idiot," he mused, with a noticeable bitter edge.

Unsure of what to say to that, Hermione shuffled her feet awkwardly. She had been expecting some sort of idiotic response from Neville.

Noticing her discomfort, her smiled. "I'm sorry, that was harsh. I just haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts in practically four years and I'm…different now. Yes, still clumsy as you noticed before, but I'm not a moron. Then again you spent seven years in school mothering Ron and Harry and getting into trouble. It's only to be expected that you're suspicious."

Hermione didn't have an answer for that so instead she watched as Neville took the pouch back and began to sort the seeds . Pulling out a dozen Tentacula seeds, he approached the snapping plants.

"The first one of you who bites me is the first one who's being pruned off next time."

Hermione laughed as she watched them hiss and recoil at the threat, allowing Neville to push the seeds into the dirt of the pots.

"They can grow that close together without their roots strangling each other?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, magical plant properties are a little different from muggle plants. A lot of magical plants actually benefit from close contact because they interact. I f you space them out too much, they get lonely and suffer. Who would have thought…they're a little like people that way."

Watching him explain this to her was interesting. It was hard to read the emotions flickering across his face. There was mostly pride in his wards and happiness of being skilled at what he was doing, but the last thing he said had triggered a small flicker of what looked like sadness in his eyes. Neville pushed that away quickly.

Turning back to the newly cleared table he accio'd a wide shallow pan to him and he murmured to it causing soil to appear from thin air.

Neville's magic skills were much more impressive than she remembered, Hermione noted conscious of her surprise at this realization. A pang of regret hit Hermione again. What he had said minutes ago was right. She was expecting someone who as far as she could tell, didn't exist anymore. Part of her was sad at the loss of the familiarity but a bigger part of her was intrigued.

It was natural for her to want to know everything, she'd never questioned it. Now here she was, wanting to understand this boy…well man…in front of her.

Neville , oblivious to her, was carefully pressing seed after seed into the freshly made up soil bed, spacing each seed about a foot apart with ten in all.

"Okay, so if magical plants benefit from closeness, why are you spacing these ones so far apart?" Hermione asked.

"Well," Neville started, turning to Hermione then stopping abruptly.

"Hermione, I want you to slowly walk forward and do not look behind you. Please, for once, just do and don't ask," he added on as she opened her mouth to protest.

Hermione did as she was told only to hear a whosh of movement behind her. Whatever had moved had been close enough to swish her hair with the breeze it had created. Alarmed, she took off, leaping forward, landing far too close to Neville.

She had crashed into him and he had only not managed to fall because he was braced against the work table. After a few seconds, she realized she had her face pressed to Neville's chest. A heart was racing, pounding in her ears, though she couldn't tell if it was hers or Neville's.

Sidestepping, she turned around to see what had nearly attempted to take off her head, mostly to avoid looking at him..

Behind her on the table she had been leaning against was a tremendous pot that held an absurdly large plant growing upwards around a beam that was anchored to the ceiling. Yellow flowers resembling a familiar plant she couldn't quite place the name of were waving back and forth in what could have been a breeze except there was no air movement or draft in this room. Staring, she realized all the flowers were perfectly in sync undulating to some sort of internal rhythm.

"Neville, what the hell is that thing and why did it just try to eat me?" Hermione practically squealed, a trait which she despised in other girls yet was unable to bring the octave of her voice down below that of a shrill screech. Hoping Neville assumed her tenor was due to her near death experience, she realized the fluttering of her heart was coming from her unexpected contact.

"Well, Hermione," Neville said, barely containing laughter, "That's a snapdragon. They're a bit territorial in case you haven't noticed. I did tell you to be careful in this area, didn't I?"

"There is no way in hell that is a snapdragon. My mum tends to snapdragons in her garden. This is not one." Hermione stared at Neville in reproach, daring him to argue. Searching his face, she didn't see any sign of him being shaken up from her…slip.

"Those are domesticated snapdragons. This gal, well she's still a bit…feral…" Neville said looking at the plant proudly, distinctly reminding Hermione of Hagrid after he had hatched Norbert.

"It just tried to eat me, Nev," Hermione reminded, still shaking, partly because she was annoyed Neville wasn't as worked up as she was.

"Not eat, just…knock you out of its space. At worst, you could have hit your head and went unconscious," Nev said, ignoring her concern and opening the door leading out of the greenhouse. "You hungry? I don't believe you've eaten since before you got here."

"Yeah, actually…" Hermione replied, the mention of food triggering her stomach to growl massively which apparently was loud enough for Neville to hear since he chuckled quietly to himself. She had so many questions for him, as he turned to the door.

Following him up the stairs, her eyes leveled with his rear, one that as far as she could tell was rather nice. Blushing, she stared at her feet the rest of the way to the kitchen.

Did she just check out Neville's ass?

Maybe there was something in the water here, but she wasn't feeling quite herself.


	8. A Diamond Ring

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

Chapter Eight: A Diamond Ring

_Neville's point of view._

It was early evening and the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow through the windows. As they walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, he walked immediately to the stove where a pot sat bubbling merrily.

Popping the lid off, he stirred and called over his shoulder, "You up for Italian? I mean you are in Italy…"

She didn't answer and he turned around to see her standing by the counter just looking around.

"Earth to Hermione," he reminded and she looked at him with a nervous smile.

"Sorry, Neville, I've got a lot on my mind. Something smells good. I didn't know you could cook."

"I'm a fair hand in the kitchen. I don't think I would have survived this long on my own if I didn't know how to feed myself," he pointed out.

"You make a good point. Can I help? I'm not used to standing by and not doing anything."

"Nah, you're a guest. Take a load off. Make yourself comfortable."

Turning to the sink he rinsed his hands and grabbed another pot from a drawer, filled it with water, and set it on the stove to boil while Hermione remained silent.

"So what's going on?" Neville asked, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. He had spent the day working and she hadn't offered any information about why she was here. Not that he minded, though she seemed to loose herself in thought easily.

He leaned on the counter across from her, looking at her. Now that he was really paying attention he noticed she looked a little worn down. Her hair was a little frizzy and was straining to escape the ponytail it was in. Her face was weary. The bags under her eyes were still there, though they weren't as purple as they were yesterday. She looked pale and skinny. From the neckline of the shirt she was wearing, he noticed how her collarbone stuck out.

It surprised him, but Hermione wasn't having any effect on him. His wandering eyes were just that. He was appraising the situation and it wasn't causing his heart to act madly. Looking back at her all he could think was that she looked unhealthy and sad.

Some rest, food and sun could fix all those things. What worried him most was her eyes. Normally alive and dancing with intelligence and wit, she was reacting slowly. Lost in space more often then not, she had let her guard down in the greenhouse, which worried him. He had lied cause she seemed more fragile than he remembered but the snapdragon would have bitten her and it would have hurt. They weren't poisonous but it wasn't a common daisy either.

The Hermione he remembered was brilliant and never let her guard down. Chastising himself, he pointed out that those four years had gone by. People changed. It was only fair to accept that and not expect her to be someone who she obviously wasn't anymore especially if he was going to point out that he wasn't the same person from school either.

She turned and looked at him, her frown turning up at the corners into a sad smile.

"Well you get right to the point, now don't you?" she mused.

Grinning, he replied, "Well, I'm not one to beat around the bush."

To which she snorted and began to laugh almost hysterically. Surprised her stared at her a little defensively.

"What?"

"Beat…around…a bush…" she said between snorts. "That's a pun…because well…because you garden and everything. And like…I dunno…" she ended weakly.

He saw the connection but it wasn't all that funny, which made him even more concerned. Something was seriously up and it didn't look like she was going to share easily. He hated doing this, he almost felt like it was cheating.

Turning back to the stove, he grabbed a handful of dry spaghetti from a sealed jar and deposited it into the now boiling water to cook. Then reaching up into a cabinet and retrieved two wine glasses. Walking to the wine rack next to the fridge he pulled out one at random. He wasn't concerned with the brand since if it was in his cooler, it was high quality.

Popping the cork, he poured a little, tasted, and poured some into both. Setting one down in front of Hermione he laughed as her head popped up. He had put it down on the counter and the clink the glass made had surprised her.

Whenever Giulia was upset, a glass of wine usually ended up in her spilling whatever was bothering her. It wasn't particularly noble of him but he wanted to know what was wrong.

To his dismay, he saw tears rolling down her face.

"Hermione! Did I say something? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to be blunt, I can just tell you've got a lot on your mind and I just want you to know that you can talk to me, I promise!"

"No, you've been incredible, Nev. I want to tell you everything, I'm just afraid that if I do, you'll hate me like everyone else."

"Impossible, 'Mione. Nothing you could say could make me hate you. Unless you tell me that you don't like my cooking," Neville said, dramatically clutching his chest over his heart. "I don't think I could bear that."

Looking up at him, he saw her smile feebly and he grinned back.

Turning back to the pasta, he noticed it was cooked, although he had forgotten to stir it, which had left it to cook together in one concealed brick.

Turning the heat off and picking the pot up, he carried it to the sink and using a spare hand grabbed a colander. He strained the spaghetti out and it feel out in clump.

The thud made him and Hermione laugh.

"Nev, I thought you said you could cook."

"I can, I just like needing a knife to cut my portions into bite sized pieces. Doesn't everyone eat spaghetti and red sauce like that?"

"No, Nev. Normal people don't," she sighed, all traces of the tears gone for the moment.

With a spoon he detangled the clumpy mess into something that resembled a normal meal and handed a bowl to Hermione then walking around the counter to sit down next to her with his.

She began to eat, starting by just pushing the food around the plate and then after tasting she increased her pace.

"Slow down, 'Mione. You're going to choke."

"It's really good! The sauce is…just wow! What's in it, it's incredible?"

"Oh you know, a little of this and a little of that," he shrugged modestly.

She finished her plate and got up to serve herself seconds, this time picking at the food more slowly.

"'Mione, you're stalling. You can tell me anything, I promise it."

"I know, I just don't know how to start."

"Well the beginning would be best. I guess maybe start from after the memorial service since that's the last time I heard from you…" he trailed off noticing her distraught look.

"Just tell me whatever you think you need to. I'm here to listen."

"It'll take awhile. It's four years worth of…story."

"Does it look like I have anywhere else I need or want to be?" he asked and Hermione looked away at the floor.

Reaching out, he turned her chin to face him. "'Mione, look at me. I'd never lie to you. I promise on Trevor's grave, rest his little soul."

With that, the corners of her mouth twitched and she took her wineglass and sipped, as if it could instill some courage in her.

Turning back to him she began with a shaky breath.

"After the battle was over, the Weasley family, Harry and I slept at the school. It had been a long day and night and everyone was in shock. Harry disappeared to the dormitories to sleep. Ron was a mess. He wouldn't even walk into the Great Hall. Instead he asked me to distract him and so we went up to Gryffindor Tower and he followed me to the girl's dormitories. I was exhausted and all I wanted to do was sleep. I think a little bit of it was the shock."

"He followed me and wouldn't let me out of his sight. He stayed with me that night, though I don't think he slept. We went back to the Burrow the next day. You were there for Fred's funeral? You saw him. If I hadn't of had my arm around his waist, I don't think he would have remained standing up."

"It's funny because even though I haven't physically been holding him up, I have been ever since."

Tears began to roll down her cheeks and Neville wante to brush them aside and comfort her, but he didn't dare interrupt.

"After the funeral, he wanted to get out of the house, be anywhere but there. I don't know where he got the money from, but we got a flat in London and he began to work. I know you two worked together with Harry. I got a job in doing deskwork in the law department after school. I rose through the ranks quickly. Hard work and a lot of sucking up. Being famous and the good NEWTs didn't hurt it either."

"For awhile, we both were working to hard to do anything but come home and just go to sleep. We didn't talk much but it wasn't uncomfortable, there wasn't anything we needed to say."

"After awhile, work made him happier. He'd come back from work with a smile on and he'd tell me about the things he'd done in the office that day. For awhile it was nice."

"Then things fell into a pattern, we would talk more and all was well. But you know Ron and I. We bicker. A lot. There'd be a fight a week. Then every few days. Then fights would span over several days. I wouldn't back down because I wanted to prove a point and he'd never admit to being wrong. After awhile I just got sick of trying because he didn't listen to me anyways. Every time I tried to explain to him why I was upset he'd either tell me I was being irrational or he'd immediately apologize and expect me to drop it. Then the whole thing would start all over again the next day."

"We got into this really big fight one day about three months ago. I don't even remember what it was about. We never fought about anything major. It was usually because I was sick of picking his dirty laundry up off the floor or he'd missed and peed on the rim of the toilet and I'd have sat in it. Gross, but typical for any guy. He told me my expectations of him were too high. I was working too much and I was coming home and putting all this pressure on him to be as perfect as I was and fact of the matter is that he wasn't perfect. I agreed with him. For all it was worth, I should have just slapped him in the face, it would have had the same effect. He disappeared. Molly owled me saying he was at the Burrow so at least I knew he was safe, but there was no way I was apologizing."

"Ron and I didn't speak for about a week. I went to work and found other ways to get to where I needed to be so we wouldn't bump into each other. Then after seven days, he showed up at the apartment after work. Before I could even open my mouth to yell at him again, he got on one knee, pulled a dozen roses from behind his back and apologized. Then he proposed to me. I said yes."

All this time Hermione had been fidgeting: shaking her feet, crossing and uncrossing her legs, wringing her hands.

She stopped and extended her left hand for Neville to look at and there sparkling on her fourth finger was the biggest diamond he had ever seen. Noticing her face, she was looking at it with disgust.

In a flash, she pulled it off with her right hand and put it on the counter next to her, rubbing her left hand as if it hurt her.

"Who does he think I am? Some cheap floozy who can have a sparkly rock flashed in her face and all would be well? Like honestly, in the moment I was so shocked and the yes just popped out. We hugged and kissed and all seemed right but when I got up the next morning all I could feel was this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach like I was some sort of sell out."

"I loved Ron, I really and truly did. The problem is that he thinks everything can be fixed just like that. Without talking and compromise and effort. He thinks he can walk in the door with a dozen roses and expect the slate to be wiped clean and real relationships…adult relationships can't last like that! Roses are beautiful but I don't want them. The ring is incredible, but why on earth would he think I'd want my hand to be weighed down with something that weighs more than his brain does on most days!"

"I'm not that kind of girl, Nev. I love lilies and hyacinths. Roses are expensive and clichéd and that's just not who I am. I've never been the cookie cutter girl. I don't want expensive diamonds and stuff like that. Just because he's paid well in his Auror job doesn't mean he can buy his way out of putting the work in to make this work."

"But I can't be mad at him. I never told him any of this. I bottled all this up with a fake smile and started to plan the wedding like any other girl would. Like let's be frank, Ron is great. He's rich and famous and handsome . But that's not what I want and it wasn't until recently that I realized there was something missing. He treats me like a princess, waiting on me hand and foot. He's a slob, but he got better because I was wearing this stupid ring. He didn't want me yelling anymore so he changed all these things like I asked."

"And then out of nowhere I did this. I broke of the engagement. Nev, I dunno. It just didn't feel right anymore. One moment we spent all our time biting each other's heads off and then magically I was on this enormous pedestal and I couldn't even see him from how high up he had put me. He told me he couldn't live without me and I was his everything and it scared me cause in his eyes I could see it was true."

"I'm not scared of the commitment. I'm not scared of settling down. But Nev, I'm so young. I'm 22. Like what the heck? I have plans and dreams and hopes that all go out the window with this damned ring on my finger and I'm just so scared of hurting anyone that I let it wait for this long."

"Then something happened and we fought again and it crashed and I snapped. I broke it all off. I just told Ron I didn't think I could do it. I hadn't seen him broken like that since Fred's funeral. His family hates me. Ginny won't speak to me. Even Harry doesn't understand it. He told me that I needed to relax and rethink all this. But that's all I did for so long: think about how everything was changing."

"Now no one will look at me. People in the streets shake their heads. At the Ministry feelings are mixed. The women young enough to date are elated that Ron is single. Everyone else thinks I'm some sort of hideous monster for doing this to him. No one gets it and no one wants to know my side of the story. And now you probably hate me as well."

Neville stared at her. Tears were streaming down her face and her nose was running. She was clutching her stomach and now she was staring at her ring and beginning to sob.

He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what he could say to help. So he got up off his stool and took a step closer. Wrapping his arms around her thin frame he tried to convey as much support and understanding as he could into his embrace.

Hermione buried her face into his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist sobbing uncontrollably for some time. After awhile it slowed down and when he breathing had evened out he drew back.

He crouched down so he could look into Hermione's downcast eyes and she eyed him nervously. Taking her hands in his, he smiled with as much reassurance as he could muster.

"Hermione Granger, as I said before and I'll remind you again now. Nothing you say could ever stop me from being your friend."

With that he rose again and hugged her. She stood and rested her chin on his shoulder, holding him close. After a few seconds, he drew back. She looked tired and unconvinced. There was something she wasn't telling him, he could see it in her eyes, but she seemed a little happier than before. Her eyes were a little shinier and maybe due to the crying, but her skin had gotten a little bit of a healthy glow back.

"Nev, I don't deserve this. Not a bit of it."

"I'll be the one to decide that. Go get some rest. You look like you're about to fall asleep on your feet."

"No, I couldn't. We left such a mess, I should help clean."

"Don't be absurd, you're the guest. Now go."

Picking her ring up, he placed it in her hand and folded her fingers around it.

With a tremulous smile she turned and trudged to the stairs, looking back once. Neville smiled and waved her on and with that she was gone. He heard the door close at the top of the stairs and exhaled slowly. The look on her face was one of guilt when she looked back.

A big part of him was happy she was here. But a smaller, more insistent part of him reminded him that her tears were a sign that she was far away from being okay and he could tell there was something missing in the story.

Groaning, he finished the chores and began to walk upstairs. Coming out of nowhere, Chloe mewled at his feet and he picked her up, hugging her affectionately which she nuzzled his ear.

"All you women make no sense, Chlo. Why is nothing ever easy?" he asked.

All she did was blink at him with her big green eyes and he rolled his. One day he'd have to realize that she wasn't going to respond to him. Then again even if she could, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what she'd have to say.


	9. Instincts

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

**Author's Note: I fixed a whole lot before I was satisfied with writing again. I advise everyone to start from the beginning. To my faithful readers, thank you for being so awesome. I think I may need to change the rating on this story… :)**

Chapter Nine: Instincts

_Neville's point of view._

Early the next morning, Neville hauled himself out of bed, remembering he needed to wander down to town for some necessities. Getting himself ready, he left his room and noticed the guest room was ajar.

Peeking in, he saw Hermione still sleeping. He had thought maybe she could come along and he'd show her around, but he was disinclined to wake her up and frankly he needed time to think before he talked to her again.

He fed Chloe quickly and jotted down a quick note to Hermione that he had left and she could help herself to food. As he walked outside he noticed it was cloudy, but warm enough. A walk would be nice and as he wandered, he thought.

Her explanation for everything that happened last night was a little disconnected. Things went from horrible with Ron to being too perfect then to horrible again. People didn't change that fast, especially not Ron. He couldn't imagine why she'd said yes to marry him if she was so upset she wouldn't even apologize. Plus from what it sounded like their fighting was menial at best and Ron was a hot head, but he wasn't an idiot. Sure maybe things with them weren't ideal, but he was a male. It was unlikely to find any male, muggle or magical, that didn't have bad habits. Or any person without bad habits for that matter. Hermione knew that and she must have some herself so he couldn't figure out what the big deal was. There had to be more to the story, maybe she had just forgotten some of the details.

Also he didn't understand why everyone was mad at her. She had gotten cold feet, it happens. Sure, of course Ron would be upset, but the whole Weasley family? Harry? It just didn't make sense. There was something missing there and it was bothering him. Her story was sad, but it wasn't terribly unexpected. Twenty two was very young and even if their relationship was pure bliss it was hard to imagine anyone settling down so young after such a long war.

He had heard stories of the things those three had been through while he was at Hogwarts the 7th year. It would take awhile to get over things like that. It had taken him awhile to sort through his own experiences and he still was relatively quiet about the whole ordeal.

Entering town he set about his list of tasks. As he wandered, he bumped into Giulia.

"Hey Giules! How're you?" he asked, smiling widely.

In response she frowned and sidestepped him.

Confused, he turned around to catch up with her. Grabbing her arm, he pulled lightly in an attempt to turn her around, which she attempted to shake off, not even looking back at him.

"Giules? Giulia! Hello?" he continued, confused at her cold response. They'd argued before and she'd acted like this, but he couldn't remember fighting with her.

"What?" she snapped, her eyes flashing.

"Erm…well, I was just going to say hi. Your friends are here right? How are things with them, are they enjoying themselves? Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked, dismayed by her raised eyebrow and look of disdain.

"Yes, they're here, they're fine, I'm fine. Is that all?" she snapped, beginning to turn away again. Again, Neville caught her arm.

"What's going on," he asked bluntly, "Why are you mad at me, what did I do?"

"Nothing, you've done nothing," she replied with a little less venom in her voice, her eyes softening slowly.

"Then why are you upset with me?" he persisted, confused. He hadn't forgotten about meeting her anywhere? Or at least he didn't think he had. On the awkwardly frequent occasion he had flaked she usually just laughed at his forgetfulness, but this was her week with her friends and they hadn't planned anything, so that must not be the problem.

When she shook her head and didn't answer, he tried to sort through everything he'd said to her in the last few days and couldn't come up with anything that could be the matter.

"Giules, tell me. I dunno what I could have done…" he trailed off as her eyes flashed and turned cold again.

"Of course you don't know why I am upset. All thoughts of me have been wiped from your mind. You have better things to think about I'm sure. So tell me, how is your girlfriend? Why was she never mentioned to me? I don't hide anything from you, Neville, so why is it not okay for me to be mad at you when I find out you have hidden something from me?" she exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch as she continued.

People nearby were looking around and several women looking distinctly like tourists narrowed their eyes at him.

"Wait, what?" Neville asked, confused. What was she talking about? Girlfriends and lying? "Giulia, what are you talking about?"

"Never mind, forget I said anything," she replied coolly. Shaking her arm out of Neville's grasp, she marched off before he could even close his mouth from his surprise.

People were still staring and those women were shaking their heads in disapproval. He began to follow the direction she had headed in. Sure they bickered occasionally, but she'd never been this vehemently upset before. Or he'd never seen her this way.

Breaking into a jog, he passed through the early morning crowd trying to follow her. Sometimes it was unnerving how fast she was able to disappear and blend into the crowd.

After dodging, weaving and the disgruntled stares of annoyed passer-bys, Neville caught up with her as she turned into the alley that was a shortcut to her house and caught her arm again.

Giulia tried to yank her arm away and only ended up stumbling against his unyielding grip.

She swung around and he saw her eyes were swimming with tears and her lower lip was trembling. It was rare but on the singular occasion he'd seen her cry it had been a sure and endearing precursor.

Unable to come up with words, he pulled her into a hug and was surprised to note she was pushing him away.

"Stop it, don't touch me," she hissed, eyes narrowed as she pushed him away forcefully.

Neville rarely lost his temper at anyone other than himself, but he was so confused. What did he do to make her this upset?

"What the hell, Giules. Would you talk to me please?" he snapped right back at her as her eyes widened in hurt and than narrowed again. He had never seen her this irate.

"How dare you get angry with me when I've done nothing except be there for you and share every secret I have with you?" she spat, her eyes flickering with fury. "Here I am, innocently thinking that you tell me everything in return, but no, the mysterious Neville Longbottom is too great to confide in me that he has a girlfriend, let alone the fact that she was coming to the island."

Realization flickered and Neville couldn't help but laugh. She was talking about Hermione. She thought he was with Hermione. This thought would have left him blushing a few years ago, but now all it did was entertain him. Him and Hermione together was never going to happen. All amusement disappeared, however, as a loud crack rang through the air, followed milliseconds later by a burning in his cheek.

"How dare you laugh at me? It's like I don't even know who you are," Giulia seethed, hand still raised in air as if about to slap him again.

Neville reflexively seized her wrists to prevent her from striking him again, not even noticing that the amount of strength with which he grabbed her arms led her to stumble backward, her back pressed up against the wall of the building on one side of the alley.

As she lost her balance, he did too and he tumbled after her, trapping her between the himself and the wall.

His heart immediately started to flutter as if there was a bird trapped inside of his ribcage where his heart normally was. Her fury had left a hue of pick in her cheeks and her wide eyes glared at him, glittering with tears. Her chest was heaving with rage and he couldn't help but notice her chest straining against the thin material of her camisole.

Drawing in a breath Giulia started to yell at him again, this time in Italian. Though he didn't think he would hear her even if she was speaking English. All he could hear was the thumping of his heart and the wooshing of the blood in his ears. His shorts constricted painfully as he really looked at her for what felt like the first time.

Some of her hair had escaped it's tie and was falling into her eyes which were an alarmingly deep brown almost black, twinkling in her passionate ferocity. Her eyes were almost level with his, she stood only about two inches shorter than him. Her lips, moving quickly entranced him as she flicked her tongue out to wet them and continued yelling.

Thoughts of her tongue were the last think he noticed before an entirely new sensation overwhelmed him. They were kissing and he was fairly certain he hadn't instigated it.

He relaxed his hold on her wrists, moving his hands unconsciously to her waist where he grabbed hold, pushing her back flat against the wall as his lips moved with hers. They were so soft and full and it just felt completely indescribable as she flicked her tongue out again, this time tracing his mouth with her tongue.

A shiver ran through him and his heart sped up even faster making him positive it would stop soon. He pressed himself as close to her as he could, amazed by how natural yet unnerving it felt to feel her breasts heaving against his chest.

Instinctually, he opened his mouth as she probed gently with her tongue and felt his body go numb as she slid her tongue inside of his mouth just enough so that he could taste the spicy mint of what he assumed was her toothpaste.

He was getting lightheaded and his mental capabilities declined to the point where all he could do was keep himself upright, breathe through his nose, and try not to crush her in his fervor.

Gaining courage, he brushed his tongue back against her softly, cautiously. He had no idea what he was doing and yet at the same time this was as easy and innate as breathing.

Pushing slightly with his tongue, he tilted his head to one side opening his mouth more fully with Giulia responding by tiling her head the opposite way opening her lips slowly at his insistence.

As he slid his tongue inside her mouth, he felt the vibration of her moan against his chest. Her hands, which until this moment had been clutching his arms on her waist, snaked around his, delicately sliding into his back pockets.

Sensation of her hands on his rear made him shiver lightly until she swamped his senses when she pulled his hips to press against hers, pressing him into her in places where he wasn't quite comfortable with her knowing the extent of her effect of him.

Drawing away, he opened his eyes in wonder and uncertainty to stare at her. Giulia, smiling vaguely, opened her eyes more slowly. They were still narrowed but showing a hugely different emotion, one that he was pretty sure he had only ever heard about in the boys dormitory.

He pulled his hips away slightly in a vain attempt to conceal his more obvious thoughts, but her hands in his back pockets left him nowhere to go.

Silence spread between them and Neville had no ability to break it. All words were lost to him, gathered somewhere in his abdomen of virtually no use to his fumbling brain.

"Wow," she breathed smiling up into his eyes, marvel and something more unfamiliar shining in hers.

Neville had no idea what to say.


	10. Catching Up With Giulia

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

**Author's Note: By change the rating I meant yeah it's going to have more details than just "Oh and they kissed and it was awesome." I like kissing and this is my opportunity to pour out how awesome I think it is. Don't go expecting hardcore "smut" though. Even reading other people's descriptions of more personal…acts…makes me blush let alone writing it myself. I'll allude to it, I'm sure. Neville is 22 after all. If you want it, I'll try, but I think it calls to a different type of audience than I'm interested in.**

**Review, review, review! It gives me motivation. Even if it's just, "You rock" or "My deceased pet gerbil was a better writer than you are." Anywhoooo…**

Chapter 10: Catching Up With Giulia

_Giulia's point of view._

It had always seemed silly to her, to describe love as sparks, fireworks, or anything instantaneous. For Giulia, the talk of falling head over heels or any such nonsense was just that: senseless drivel coming from even more insipid girls.

Going to an all girls boarding school had, however, accustomed her to putting up with such ideas of love. Just listening to her girlfriends, she often had to contain her snorts and eye rolls in an attempt to not completely alienate both her friends and the other girls.

When she had first met Neville, she hadn't expected to become as close to him as time had created between them.

Through her father, their first interaction had been brief and she recalled with amusement that she had been less than friendly.

Her first thought of him was that he was incredibly attractive and as such was probably either an idiot or was arrogant about his looks.

Back at school, her friends always teased her for her low expectations of boys.

Her closest friends, Courtney, Kira, and Shereen however understood that she did not enjoy how boys flocked to her because she was tall, pretty and friendly. When they found out that she witty, charming, intelligent and brutally sarcastic, they either were intimidated or eager to show her off as some sort of conquest. Not once had someone tried to truly get to know her without making her feel stupid and used and she wasn't interested dealing with it.

She garnered a reputation for being rather shrew like and from then on anyone who approached her usually had ulterior motives. She saw through the façade and more often than not chose to publically humiliate those she figured were only after her because their friends had made some sort of bet. Overall, men usually pissed her off and the idea of going cow eyed and stupid over one made her laugh.

So when Neville had practically ignored her when they'd first met, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Over the weeks that had followed she had spotted him around the island. He;d been around since January and but mostly had kept to himself. The only people who knew him well were the younger kids who spent a lot of time running around his property. They only had good things to say of the mysterious intruder.

Whenever she saw him around he'd casually wave to her if he noticed her but didn't go out of his way to make conversation. It wasn't until Aria came home one day bragging to Antonio about Neville liking her better that her curiosity was piqued.

Giulia adored her siblings but spending more than a few minutes with the ten and nine year old made her want lock them in a closet and throw away the key. The age difference was a big factor. She was 17 and far too cool to hang around with the little kids, but here was this 19-year-old boy who ignored the only person around in his age group and turned to the little children for companionship.

She wouldn't admit it to anyone but his disregard for her irritated her. She made it her goal to drop by where he was, going out of her way to nonchalantly be wherever he was.

One day on the pier she noticed him trying to carry a rather large load of bags. He had stumbled over something and went crashing down, his bundle scattering. Forgetting her irritation with this unknown boy, she stooped to help him pick up what appeared to be groceries and smiling he had thanked her and continued walking.

However in the moment his glance had flicked to her eyes and a smile had crossed his face something in her chest flip-flopped and her stomach dropped to down around her knees. His eyes had twinkled with sincerity but the look had been fleeting and he had shuffled away, apparently not feeling the electrical shock that had just taken her by surprise.

In the moments that followed, she couldn't remember what color his eyes had been, all that she knew was that she needed to find out. She followed him and offered to hold some of the bags he was carrying, an offer which he thanked her for but turned down. She continued to follow him up the hill toward his house. Not even noticing her intent stare, he whistled while her walked. He was painfully tone deaf but it was endearing. When they had arrived at his yard a cat that looked more like a kitten had come bounding out of the house and twined around his feet purring lovingly.

The cat's green eyes alit on the company and she sauntered toward Giulia. Giulia bent down and allowed the regal animal to sniff her fingers and was pleasantly surprised when the cat butted her hand with her head asking to be pet.

"She likes you. She's a good judge of character. Wanna come on inside?" Giulia remembered Neville saying and from that night on they had become friends. He had offered to make her dinner and she had laughed as he burned the pasta and sopped half of the hot water all over himself.

His honest clumsiness and cheerful grin had made her smile and not once had he given her the telltale leer that she had become familiar with from most men.

They were inseparable for the rest of the summer. She introduced him to everyone he hadn't yet met and showed him all the secrets of the island. He got to be friends with all the older men, schmoozed with the older women, and was generally adored by all. At first he was rather shy and would merely nod and smile at her baiting until one day, a month in he had suggested that it was a miracle no one had punched her teeth in yet.

At first she had been furious until she noticed the small grin and twinkle in his eyes. He was teasing her back, something no one had ever done to her before and instead of being resentful to it, it had made her smile.

At the end of the summer she had gone back to school but she wrote him often. Their friendship blossomed as they shared private jokes and stories from when they were children.

She knew he had hardly any family and had gone to a small private boarding school in Scotland. When she had tried to find what the school was, she found nothing that matched his description and when she had asked again, he had changed the subject.

It wasn't until she graduated that she realized that there was something more to how she felt than just camaraderie.

He had traveled with her family to the ceremony. She was graduating and she hadn't seen him in a year since instead of going home over the holidays she had chosen to travel with her friends. He seemed taller, with broader shoulders and an easy trusting smile. Some of the more outgoing girls had commented on how attractive he was and when they attempted to speak to him something inside of her snapped a little.

She had never felt that way about anyone and it unnerved her. However she noted happily that he was polite but never showed much more than that to anyone that day, spending more time with the now 11-year-old Aria on his lap and ten year old Antonio sitting next to him while her parents gossiped with him like he was part of the family.

It made her smile how much he fit with her family and after the ceremony when he had excitedly grabbed her in a bear hug and spun her around in a circle she felt the flutters again deep within her and was alarmed at their novelty. She had never felt this way before and something about Neville's good-natured smile and those amazing eyes left her speechless and it alarmed her.

After he had wandered off with Antonio to "scope out the food situation" her friends had converged. Shereen, Kira and Courtney had been astounded and slightly annoyed that Giulia had withheld from them that she had an "amazingly hot boyfriend" and chided her for not telling them about him. When she explained they weren't dating and that they were just friends, Kira mother hen of the group knowingly told them that their little shrew like Giulia had finally fallen for someone and was deeply in denial about it. Giulia had waved it off and they said their goodbyes but their words followed her.

He never paid more attention to her than a friend would and never mentioned any other girl. She just assumed he didn't like her like that and for a long time she dropped it, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach and willing the sparks to disappear. It wasn't until about a month ago that her feelings started to plague her night and day.

At night she'd fall asleep and there he would be smiling and handsome in her dreams which sometimes left her waking up feeling distinctly uncomfortable that her subconscious mind was wandering off in that particular direction.

During the day when she saw him their banter and teasing often trailed off with her daydreaming of him just dropping what he was doing and kissing her. However it never happened. He did seem unhappy lately and it had worried her. Her mind was more often than not consumed with the tall and gawky British boy until the day when that unknown woman had shown up and embarrassed her in front of her friends.

She finally clued in with her friends knowing help. She was head over heels in love with Neville and it had crept up on her. It pissed her off that she had been wrong and her friend had been right but mostly it upset her that she had missed her chance. She had sworn to herself that she'd never be that girl who looses it over some boy but seeing him with his arms around that small and startlingly pretty girl had made her want to tear her hair out and scream. She was furious not with Neville but with herself, unfortunately Neville was the lucky one who was blamed and in her head, it was perfectly rational.

Her friends sensing her misery coached her saying she was too good for him and it made her feel better but that night, falling asleep all she could do was cry and that made her even more angry. She didn't like feeling this way and when she saw Neville next he was going to get a piece of her mind and he was going to pay.


	11. Kiss and Run

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

**Author's Note: Two chapters in a night! I'm on a roll! Review! **

Chapter 11: Kiss and Run

_Giulia's point of view._

"Hey Giules! How're you?" Neville asked, smiling widely.

Giulia's stomach immediately sinking in response was not encouraging. She couldn't yell at him. He hadn't done anything wrong. They had never been together and she was an idiot for thinking so. She avoiding responding and tried to rush away to no avail. He caught her arm startling her. Her anger with herself and conflicting emotions with him hadn't prevented her heart practically leaping out of her chest at his touch.

"Giules? Giulia! Hello?"

"What?" she replied, trying to avoid his gaze. Surely he'd notice how bright red her cheeks were.

"Erm…well, I was just going to say hi. Your friends are here right? How are things with them, are they enjoying themselves? Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"Yes, they're here, they're fine, I'm fine. Is that all?" she replied trying desperately to get away. She didn't want him to see her dissolve and him acting like a friend wasn't helping.

"What's going on," he asked, "Why are you mad at me, what did I do?"

"Nothing, you've done nothing," she replied because it was true. He hadn't done anything wrong, except maybe not tell her that he had a stunningly pretty girlfriend.

"Then why are you upset with me? Giules, tell me. I dunno what I could have done…" he trailed off.

Then it hit her. She had opened up to him completely and he hadn't. She hadn't know he had a girlfriend and suddenly her fury came swooping irrationally back. A small voice reminded her that she probably had never asked but instead her mouth reacted, ignoring reason.

"Of course you don't know why I am upset. All thoughts of me have been wiped from your mind. You have better things to think about I'm sure. So tell me, how is your girlfriend? Why was she never mentioned to me? I don't hide anything from you, Neville, so why is it not okay for me to be mad at you when I find out you have hidden something from me?"

"Wait, what? Giulia, what are you talking about?" he questioned however she didn't notice the genuine look of confusion hardly hearing his response in her anger.

"Never mind, forget I said anything," she replied and walked away. She couldn't deal with this right now and she just wanted to go home. If Neville wanted to sneak around with her secret girlfriend than it was his life and he could do whatever he wanted. See if she cared. If wasn't until he grabbed her arm again that she realized he had been following her.

"Stop it, don't touch me."

Neville's eyes flashed and for the first time ever he yelled at her which pissed her off even more. How dare he.

"What the hell, Giules. Would you talk to me please?"

"How dare you get angry with me when I've done nothing except be there for you and share every secret I have with you? Here I am, innocently thinking that you tell me everything in return, but no, the mysterious Neville Longbottom is too great to confide in me that he has a girlfriend, let alone the fact that she was coming to the island."

Then he started laughing and before she even realized what she was doing her arm jerked and she slapped him as hard as she could across the face.

"How dare you laugh at me? It's like I don't even know who you are," she hissed watching his eyes widen in shock as he brought his hand up to rub his cheek which had turned bright white and now was coloring with a bright angry red. The stupid naïve look in his eye made her angry and she raised her hand to strike again when he grabbed her wrists knocking the two of them off balance. She righted herself only to realize she was trapped between the wall of the builing of the alley and Neville who looked dazed.

His proximity to her promptly turned her body to mush and her brain to overdrive. She could feel the heat from his body and she just started yelling at him for causing her this much anger without even realizing that he couldn't understand a word she was saying. She was speaking in Italian. Staring into his eyes she ranted until she notice them focus and cast downwards. His gaze was on her chest and his cheeks reddened not from where she slapped him. His eyes flickered to eyes and then trailed down to her mouth and all air expelled from her.

Thoughts disappeared and she impulsively raised up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. She had no idea what caused her to do it but it happened and it felt right. Her mind spun and a feeling like chills ran throughout her body as she gave over to her senses.

Sensing no resistance she opened her mouth and tasted him noticing his arms which she was gripping move down and clutch her waist. Fire spread from his fingertips throughout her and then she went numb. He opened his mouth cautiously and it came to her that he seemed just as clumsy as ever.

His tongue tentatively swept out and brushed her own transferring more spit than any experienced boy ever would. Instead of disgusting her, elation rose in her like a balloon. He was following her cues and hardly making any moves of his own. His stance was awkward and tense but willing leading her to realize he probably had never been kissed before.

In her happiness her arms slipped into his jean pockets and pulled him to her. His butt was firm and his tenseness caused her to semi collapse crushing her between the wall and his frame.

His weight against her made her moan slightly and a twitch by her thigh made her realize the feeling was mutual. However his body tense and pulled away ending the kiss with an undignified smack.

He tried to pull away and she opened her eyes to the sight of Neville looking caught between embarrassment and something unfamiliar. It wasn't until he pulled away again that she realized his embarrassment must be related to his obvious reaction.

"Wow," she breathed not realizing she had said it aloud until Neville's hazy eyes focused and his grip on her waist slackened while he pulled away more forcefully.

Neville stared at her like a caged animal and sensing his distress she pulled him into a hug.

"Nev, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…well I did but. I'm really sorry, I just…well…" she stammered realizing he probably actually hadn't reacted well to her kiss and was just realizing it

He pulled away and put his finger to her lips silencing her worries.

"How long Giules?" he asked. At first she didn't understand until she looked back at him and gone was the look of uncertainty and fear replaced by one of happiness and was that amusement? He was asking how long it had been that she'd liked him. Or at least she thought that was what her was asking.

"Probably since I first laid eyes on you but I was too stubborn to realize it until…well…yesterday," she admitted, casting her eyes downward in embarrassment.

"Oh. Wow. So…" he continued taking her chin in her rough warm hand and tilting it upward to look at him. His eyes were hazel brown and he was smiling widely. He was happy. Warm brown meant happy and she hadn't seen his eyes that color in months.

"So…what," she questioned, confused.

"I'm sorry," he said simply his eyes flickering with concern this time, him looking away.

Confusion consumed her. Why was he sorry? Was he going to tell her he wasn't interested? Was she wrong in believing she had a chance?

"What for?" she breathed, terrified for the answer.

"Well…" he stuttered, "For being a terrible kisser. I've only ever kissed one girl before and I was fourteen and it was only a peck and you must think I'm gross and I'm sorry," he spilled out looking at her in a heartbreakingly adorable way.

She couldn't even answer. Her lips instead found his again and her heart sung with happiness. He sighed and leaned into the kiss and it was slow and sweet and perfect. He wrapped his arms back around her waist and she wrapped her around his shoulders.

When they drew apart all she could do was smile and he smiled back at her. All memory of her anger had disappeared. His eyes soon changed to one of worry.

"Giulia, I really really really hate to ruin this moment, but Hermione is still at my house and I need to help her with some stuff but I want to see you. Tonight can you meet me on our beach? Maybe at 9 o clock? Please don't be mad at me. I just…well I wasn't expecting this at all," he said hurriedly looking at her as though praying she wouldn't start yelling again.

"Hermione?" she questioned, feeling the familiar grip of jealousy claw at her.

"She's an old friend from school. She's having a hard time and truthfully I don't really know why she's here. I haven't heard from her in years and she just showed up and I have a feeling something bad must have happened."

When he said that he hadn't heard from her in years a look of sadness went through his eyes that raised alarm bells.

"Neville, I understand but can I just ask. Do you care about her as more than a friend?"

Her question must have caught him off guard and his eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. She frowned and turned away not wanting to deal with this turn of events. He liked her but there was someone else.

A hand caught her arm and turned her around. Neville pulled her in close and hugged her.

"Giules it's adorable to see you like this. I'll be honest with you. Yes I used to have a crush on her but I think it was a boyhood thing. I haven't spoken to her in years and she sort of has a fiancé," he pulled away and looked at her in the eye, "I think the girl for me is the one who has been by my side for these past three years. Giules you're my best friend and I'm pretty sure we could be something more…well…if you want," he trailed off awkwardly in his klutzy unsure way of his.

Her heart rate sped up again at his words. His eyes were sincere and she had known him long enough to know that Neville didn't share his feelings often but when he did it was important. She nodded.

"Think it was a boyhood thing? Sort of has a fiance? Uhm.." she asked her eyes flashing, however his look of sincerity made her realizie she was probably being unfair to the boy who blushed even when he excused himself to go the the bathroom. She relented and smiled.

"Take care of your friend and if there's anything I can do, let me know. I trust you, Nev. I'll meet you on our beach at 9."

"You're amazing. I'll explain everything then," he declared and hugged her closer again. Pulling away he started to turn around when he stopped and looked back.

"Giules?"

"Yeah Nev?"

"Mind if I kiss you one last time? For the road and all?"

"If you want," she said grinning and he grabbed her and kissed her on the mouth. It was short and he pulled away quickly. He turned to run off and promptly tripped over his feet. He turned around and gave her an embarrassed shrug and a smile and was gone. And that left Giulia standing there with her fingers on her still tingling lips. A thought crossed her mind making her laugh.

He was handsome, cute, funny, and amazing but it was definitely the clumsiness she loved the most.


	12. A Cup of Tea

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

**Author's Note: Review, review review! P.S. This still is a Hermione/Neville story otherwise I would have changed it to Neville/OC. Relax people, lol. :)**

Chapter 12: A Cup of Tea

_Hermione's point of view._

Rolling over and stretching, Hermione woke up to the sound of seabirds and the green eyes of a cat.

Startled, she rubbed her eyes and realized where she was. Reaching out to pet Chloe, she was rebuffed as the cat turned and sat just out of reach. She reached to try and pet her again and upon sitting up the cat jumped off the bed.

"Even Crookshanks was friendlier than you, miss." Hermione grouchily muttered as she swung her feet out of bed. Turning around, Chloe's green eyes lit on Hermione in an uncanny resemblance of a grin and then she trotted out of the room.

"What a cat… Now I understand why Ronald was never fond of them," she murmured to herself, pain unfurling in her chest at the thought of Ron. Shaking her head miserably, she pushed the memories away. It was for both of them that she had left. A meow from downstairs distracted her much to her relief.

"Oh. You're hungry. I know that meow," Hermione grumbled, tossing her pyjamas in a heap and pulling on some trousers and a white eyelet lace blouse that she had always loved and following the cat downstairs. According to the clock it was 11:30 in the morning and Chloe was sitting on the counter howling.

"Neville!" Hermione called. No one replied

"Neville? Neville are you here?" she yelled again, irritated. Hermione walked to the counter and Chloe began purring and butted her head into Hermione's stomach.

"Ah I see. Now you're nice to me? Now that you're hungry and want food…" Hermione cooed, admittedly charmed by the feline's big eyes and anxious meow. Hermione had always had a spot in her heart for cats.

Pulling out a bowl from where she had seen Neville get them last night and rummaging around the cabinets, she found tinned cat food, opened it and dumped the whole lot of it in the bowl.

"Here you go, darling," Hermione said as she pushed the bowl towards the cat who looked at her as if surprised and began to devour the contents. Hermione had no idea if she had given her the right amount of food, but Crookshanks used to each a tin of the foul smelling substance at each meal if he hadn't caught any mice and never gained an unhealthy amount of weight so she figured it would be okay.

After setting some water on the stove to boil for a cup of tea, she leaned on the counter to wait and noticed a note. In very tidy penmanship, Neville had said he was in town to visit a few shops and would be back around 11. Glancing back at the clock, she wondered what Neville was doing.

Absentmindedly, she patted the cat who swished her tail in annoyance at the interruption of her meal and moved out of reach.

"You are a bloody odd cat you know, no wonder you and Neville get on so well," Hermione said to the cat who looked up at her and glared as if she had understood.

"Hermione, insulting her isn't the best way to win her affection," a voice said, startling Hermione.

"Neville, you frightened me!" Hermione exclaimed and then promptly realized that if Neville had heard what she said, she had just called him odd as well.

"Neville, I'm sorry. You're cat doesn't seem to like me very much," Hermione stated, embarrassed that she had been overheard.

"Hermione," Neville grinned, "I didn't mean to scare you and yes, she wasn't immediately fond of me as well. We grew on each other. I need her and she needs me. I see that she coaxed you into feeding her even though I already gave her breakfast," and smiling, Neville scooped her up into his arms and rubbed his nose in her belly fur while she protested the indignity.

It warmed Hermione's heart to see Neville and Chloe. He was so different from Ron who used to push Crookshanks off the sofa or grouse about how Hermione treated him like a child. She firmly believed that a man who was good with animals and children was someone worth waiting for. Ronald however, despite growing up in a large family, did not seem to enjoy the company of either. Frowning at that, the whistle from the kettle stopped her from becoming too engrossed in her thoughts.

"Hermione, are you okay. You look unhappy," Neville said, looking up over Chloe's head who now was purring and nibbling on his ear.

"I'm alright, Neville," Hermione sighed.

"Well that's a lie if I ever heard one," Neville admonished and Hermione looked at him in surprise. This Neville was so different from the boy she knew at school. Not that she disliked her old friend's personality, but seeing this new man, this grown up and confident version of the sweet and sad boy she had cared for in school made her happy that he seemed happy bringing a genuine smile to her face. One of the first in weeks.

"I promise I'm fine. Want a cup of tea? I put on enough hot water for two," Hermione said. It was the least she could do for him.

"I'd like that, as long as you tell me what you were just thinking. Not why you were frowning. What just made you smile?"

Blushing, a very un-Hermione like thing to do, she turned around to search for cups for the tea so she could take a moment to think. This man was so much more perceptive than the one she remembered. Ron wouldn't have noticed that she was upset or the smile. It was unnerving, but comforting to know that here was someone who seemed to care and took the time to notice. As things had worn on with Ron and they had become comfortable in their relationship, they both had stopped putting in the effort. Ron went back to being…well…himself and her…well she had stopped believing that her feelings were important to anyone else and stopped even trying to share her opinions, often lying to keep the peace. To keep her hands busy, she poured to cups and doctored hers with a little milk from the refrigerator. Ron always put several lumps of sugar in his tea and added the same to hers even though she had told him often that she couldn't stand having more sugar in her tea than there was tea

"Just milk for me, as well, Hermione," Neville said, cutting into her thoughts.

Turning around she carefully handed one to him, looking at him questioningly, asking.

"You don't like sugar in your tea?"

"Not usually. I find that it kills the taste of the tea itself," Neville replied sniffing his cup deeply. "See especially with this tea you chose since it is a lighter one. Lady Grey, correct?"

Hermione nodded wondering how he knew.

"I can tell you want to ask how I knew that," Neville said, grinning, a look that Hermione noted to herself showed all his teeth. Hermione loved a nice smile; one that reached the eyes and showed a genuine kindness, one that had disappeared from Ronald ages ago. Ron's smiles to her had of late been either faked in an attempt to charm or after they had shagged, a thought that now revolted Hermione.

"Yes, how did you know," Hermione asked, trying to put the thought of a naked Ronald out of her head, hopefully for good.

"You had the famous Hermione look in your eye, the one right before your hand shot up to ask a question in classes in school," Neville replied, holding up his hand before she could argue with him.

"We all knew that look and I for one loved it. Anyways before you argue and to answer our unspoken question," he winked, "I know what kind of tea this is because I like plants and I make it my business to know everything about this things I love."

For some reason, at that, Hermione's insides started to flutter. It was so unexpected that some of her tea sloshed out which Neville noticed, much to her chagrin.

"I thought I was the clumsy one," he teased lightly and changed the subject. "Smell the tea," Neville suggested and she did.

"What do you smell?"

Hermione hated feeling stupid and not knowing the answer so she just shrugged which made his eyes twinkle.

"I know that look too although it is far rarer than the first. You don't know the answer. Who would have thought, Hermione not knowing something that I do know."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Get on with it, if you're so intelligent."

Laughing, he continued "Okay, smell again, this time more slowly. Lady Grey is similar to Earl Grey. By the way, all my teas are British teas. It's one thing that no other country can equal. Like Earl Grey it gets its fragrance from bergamot oranges, Lady Grey but in its difference is special. Smell again. Do you smell the lavender? It's my favourite tea for just that reason. It's sweet without needing the sugar which just covers the flavour," Neville said taking a sip and smiling, his eyes closed in contentment.

Hermione just watched and listened. Something about his explanation had hit something in her. It was nice to sit back and listen, to not always be expected to know the answer. Sipping her tea, she tried to taste what Neville had just described and knew she would never look at or taste tea the same way again. Neville described it like it was an art with appreciation for the smaller things. There was no other way to put it, but it was nice. Well more than nice. It was hot. Unfortunately with Ron, he never teased her about her intellect a topic that was strictly off-limits instead treating her like a trusted but boring encyclopedia, expecting her to know all and being rude when she admitted ignorance.

"I see what you mean," Hermione said quietly, thoughtful.

"Now you'll never drink tea the same way again. My work here is finished," Neville laughed to which Hermione laughed as well and then immediately covered her mouth.

"Hermione? I'm sorry. What did I say?" Neville rushed out, a bit of the familiar stammer creeping into his voice, his eyes switching quickly from amusement to worry at her sudden reaction.

"It's nothing. I just don't remember the last time I laughed," Hermione said trailing off, avoiding Neville's eyes. Wishing she hadn't said that out loud, she occupied herself by swirling her tea, finishing off the last of it and then staring at the tealeaves in the bottom. As usual, she noted it just looked like watery grey mush when suddenly arms surrounded her and held her tight. Looking up, she saw Neville's friendly smile and tears started rolling down her cheeks.

She was emotional and the wounds from Ron were still so raw. Neville was being too kind to her, and she didn't want to get the wrong impression but it was all so confusing. She prided herself on being rational all of the time but ever since she had arrived all she had done was act like a silly child and she was ashamed. She didn't even really know why she had come here. When she had walked out of the flat she shared with Ron, she couldn't think of anywhere to go. As she walked down the stairs she searched her mind for someone and Neville just had seemed the right choice. No one else was speaking to her anyways and a pang of sadness had overcome her when she thought about how once Neville had disappeared she had truthfully almost forgotten about him. On a whim, she had searched him out and now she was here standing the arms of this man who seemed so different, yet so similar and he hadn't asked anything of her in return.

Burying her face into his linen shirt, she was met with the resistance of the muscle of his chest and realized for the first time how tall he was and how long it had been since she had been truly held. He held her tightly.

She hadn't felt this loved or cared for in so long and yet all it did was make the tears come faster and harder. Why was she here? What had drawn her to him and why hadn't she ever seen it before? And even worse was this new feeling that she didn't even want to name. He was her friend but something was nagging her to look at him in a whole new way and she didn't know if it was too soon or too foreign. He had been her very first friend, with her from day one of her life changing and never had she taken a second glance at the person she had taken for granted all those years ago, instead walking away from this boy who had turned into this man. All the regret, the sadness, the pain, and the horrors from her past welled up to the surface and she couldn't stop it. She imagined Neville thought her a nutter but she just couldn't bring herself to care. Wrapping her arms around him, she started to cry harder all thoughts gone, misery, confusion, and self-pity swamping her.

All the while, Neville rested his chin on the top of her head and ran his fingers through her hair, combing out the knots from sleep with one hand and rubbing her back in small circles with the other.

After awhile, the tears subsided, as they always did. She realized that Neville was rocking back and forth shifting his weight from foot to foot rhythmically and it was soothing. Why did she allow herself to miss Neville turning into this new person? Leaning back, she looked back up at him and he opened his eyes slowly and the sadness for her pain there was obvious. He smiled slowly and brought his hand up to her cheek, wiping away the last of her tears with his callused thumb. The touch sent small shocks through her, but he didn't seem to notice. He just brought her close again and squeezed tight.

"Better?" he asked simply, his voice cracking a bit.

"Much," she replied smiling up at him.

Taking her empty cup which she hadn't even realized she was still clutching, he deposited all the dishware into the sink and turned back to her.

"Let's get your hands dirty, see if we can try and get you a little distracted from it all," he suggested, more of a question waiting for her reply and not asking the reason behind her outburst.

"I'd like that."

"Come outside, the sun might cheer you up and nothing out here will try and bite," he winked.

With a smile, he took her hand and led her out to the garden. It felt nice to be taken care of and his hand fit so well in hers she realized slowly.

There they toiled until the late afternoon. He told her stories of his time her in Italy while she listened quietly. She didn't talk much and he seemed to sense that she didn't want to. How he was so receptive was beyond her, but it was nice to be out in the sun working with the earth and not needing to think.

She was happy here and felt as if she belonged for the first time in years. With a smile, she let her thoughts and fears slip away, listening only to the breeze, the sound of the nearby sea, and Neville's strong calming voice.


	13. What's A Boy To Do?

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

**Author's Note: Review, review review! **

Chapter 13: What's A Boy To Do?

_Neville's point of view._

Standing outside working in the garden, Neville couldn't help but peek at the girl standing alongside him every few minutes. She was quiet and thoughtful and he still couldn't figure out why.

Every once in awhile she would notice him looking and she'd smile at him in return. Something in his gut would flicker each time as the old feelings he had for her reared their head. As the sun sank in the sky, the glow gave her a halo, igniting the gold hues in her hair and making her skin seem almost translucent in the fading light.

When she had first appeared on the docks and in his home, he had been so surprised to see her that all he could worry about was that shock. Now as she settled in, seeing her smile again and open up to him was doing wacky things to his heart and his head. A small hope was growing in him which not only was wonderful but poorly timed. The problem was he couldn't get this morning out of his head.

His whole walk back from town had been filled with confusion. Giulia had kissed him. Twice. Then he had kissed her again. It had been spectacular and the spontaneity of the moment had caught him but as he returned home, thoughts of Hermione had dulled the edges of his elation changing his mood from euphoric to uncomfortable. He had never seen Giulia as more than a friend and in the moments after the kissing he felt like somehow he had betrayed himself and he knew exactly why. For most of the kiss he had imagined it was Hermione.

The speech he had given Giulia hadn't been intended for her. When he had said, "Giules you're my best friend and I'm pretty sure we could be something more…well…if you want," he had been thinking of his Hermione.

He still had a crush on Hermione and he knew deep in his heart that it wasn't going away. He had been inspired by the moment and like any 22 year old boy, the kissing had addled his brain and he was ashamed to say that when she asked about Hermione he had realized that for a moment there, he had lost his brain function and reacted on instinct partially because he hadn't wanted to be slapped again but also because he did care about Giulia.

Giulia was beautiful, witty, smart, engaging and more but he had loved Hermione since he was eleven years old. Hermione was all of those things and so much more and the moment he turned away from kissing Giulia one last time, a small niggling feeling had taken root in his gut. What had he just done? Or to be fair, what had he just encouraged?

As the sun started to go down, he turned to her where she was watching the sunset.

"Hermione, how about we go inside and have some dinner?"

"I'm actually a little nauseous, to tell the truth," she said turning to him with a grimace and he noticed how tired she still looked. Her face was also slightly burned from the sun exposure and her nice shirt was dirty. Walking closer he dusted some dirt off her shoulder and she jumped a little. Why she had jumped flicked through his mind but not wanting to over think it he said the first thing that popped into his head.

"This is why we don't wear nice clothes to work outside, Miss Granger," he teased reminding himself of Professor Sprout and then realizing how dumb he sounded.

She smiled thinly and then the smile disappeared as she clutched her stomach wincing in pain.

"Oh I really feel terrible, Neville," she gasped.

Suddenly overcome with worry, he took her by the arm and brought her inside. She was probably dehydrated from the day outside so he sat her at the counter and fixed her a glass of water and some biscuits.

"Try to get some water in. I always feel lousy if I forget to drink and spend all day in the sun," he said, trying to help while she looked at the food in distaste. Taking her hand, he placed the glass of water in it and she grudgingly took a sip. Putting the glass down she breathed deeply and then turned around and threw up all over the floor.

A little grossed out, he pulled Hermione's hair back while she retched and let it go as she sat back up. Truthfully she looked absolutely awful but all he could see was how beautiful she was.

Sweaty and trembling, her eyes were huge and shining and her lips stood out in her pale face. Her hair was wavy and falling down her back and there was a smudge of dirt on her left cheek. The pretty white shirt she was wearing that was now dirty from working all day was thin and clinging to her probably from her sweat.

A desire to kiss her flashed through his head immediately followed by disgust. Not because she had thrown up but because she was so unhappy and probably was only here looking for friendship. All thoughts of anything to do with Giulia were completely gone from his mind.

As Hermione rested her head on the counter, Neville magically cleaned up the mess.

"Hermione, what can I do to help," he questioned, unsure of what to do.

"Can you get me upstairs? I think I should rest," she groaned, not moving her head from the counter.

"Can you stand?" he asked, pulling her chair back and extending his hand.

"Yeah I think so," she replied, getting to her feet unsteadily. Worried he caught her arm anyways and walked her up the stairs. Chloe came flouncing out of nowhere and looked on then followed them up the stairs.

As he entered her room, he sat her on the trunk at the foot of the bed now unsure of what to do. He imagined she would want to change and clean up but her pallor led him to believe that she was really in no state to be moving.

"Neville, I know this is probably terribly inappropriate but I feel like my arms and legs have been hit with the Jelly Legs Jinx. Can you help me," she asked, looked at him with embarrassment and something else he couldn't name.

"Sure," he replied trying in vain to not let his voice crack. His stomach was doing somersaults. All his old daydreams from school were coming back to him yet somehow this was not the situation he had placed them in.

Walking into the bathroom, he turned on a warm shower and returned to the main room where Chloe was sitting watching in the door and Hermione was seating and spaced out, fumbling with her clothes. He helped her to her feet and out of her shirt and trousers, trying to keep his hands from shakings and walked her to the bathroom. Closing the door behind her he tried to erase the image of her undressing from his mind to no avail.

She was skinny but just as curvy as he had always imagined. Her skin was flawless if not just pale and in an attempt to keep his head from going fuzzy, he rummaged through the drawers and found something suitable for night clothes, opening the bathroom door slightly and reaching his hand in to place them on the counter.

He leaned outside the door and waited a few more minutes for her to finish. When the water turned off he started to panic. How on earth was he supposed to help her put her clothes back on? He'd never seen a girl naked and somehow he didn't feel this was the appropriate time to change that. Panic changed to relief as Hermione opened the door, in the clothing Neville had pulled out for her.

Padding lightly to the bed, she climbed in and he sat down next to her. She was avoiding his eyes and had a guilty expression on her face like she wasn't telling him something.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked, cautiously unsure if he wanted to know the answer. She didn't look at him and instead shook her head, tears filling her eyes.

"Hermione?" he repeated, this time more worried. He hated feeling ignorant, but mostly he hated seeing her this sad and broken.

She looked at him and wearily put her head back and closer her eyes, seemingly trying to draw up courage.

"You can tell me anything. I don't know why you're here but the story you told me the other day didn't seem right. Why would Ron propose out of nowhere and what made him forgive you? Why did you leave him? Hermione, you're one of my best friends. Nothing you say is going to make that untrue. Just please, tell me what really is going on," he pleaded.

She opened her eyes slowly, the depths of her sadness seemingly unfathomable.

"Neville, I'm pregnant," she said slowly and in response his brain seized and froze.

"W…w…what?" he eventually stuttered out and she sat up and took his hand in hers.

"It's difficult to explain," she commented more to herself than to him. His first instinct was fury and then his second was pity. She looked miserable and it was obvious that she didn't really want to be in this situation.

"Try me," he said, realizing it had probably come out a little fiercer than he had intended.

Sighing deeply, she began.

"I didn't lie in anything I said last time, I just skimmed over a lot of the details. I just didn't want to think about it. Like I said, Ron and I got a flat and for a long time we just were together but never really talked much. We did however rush into other things. He wasn't forceful about it and the first time was okay but didn't feel right. I felt like I was doing it more out of obligation and a desire for him to smile again than because I wanted to," she admitted looking ashamed. Neville squeezed he hand in support, hoping she'd continue quickly because the idea of the two of them together made him want to punch a wall.

"We went to work, we came home, ate, and then well…you know. I was okay and assumed this was a normal relationship. You know Ron. He's not one for being romantic and I just figured that what we were doing was normal. There were nights I was tired and just wanted to sleep but I felt guilty since sometimes it was the only thing that made him happy. So I went along with it. It was nice sometimes but mostly it was…well…it happened," Neville wanted to be sick. She was too good for him.

"Then I got promoted. And promoted again. I was allowed to start projects of my own. The seeds you're growing right now for Professor Slughorn were my most recent project. I was the one spearheading the Werewolf Assimilation and Treatment Campaign. I started staying later at work and got close with some of my colleagues and I felt like I was finally starting to impact the world for good," the fire in her eyes was beginning to show making Neville smile. This was the Hermione he knew and loved. The one who put others above herself and didn't care if people thought she was crazy. He had so much respect for her courage and strength of character. He hated the injustice but never could bring himself to do anything about it.

"Well the increased time I spent at work annoyed him and we started arguing. I would be tired when I got home and he would be mad I had stayed late. We would harp on each other for the little things and they would escalate to bigger fights usually about nothing. Eventually, I would hide in my office not wanting to go home because we usually just either weren't speaking to each other or we were bickering constantly. He was one of my closest friends, Neville, and I did love him, I just think it became jaded with time and lack of care. I was constantly worried about upsetting him and he was jealous and unsympathetic. The stress of it all started the nightmares. I haven't had a dreamless nights sleep in months. I dream about 7th year on the run, the battle, people I love dying, my parents who I sent off and can't recover their minds, my failing relationship, and more. I would wake up terrified and he became even worse with a lack of sleep and I was equally tough to live with."

"One day, I came home really late. I had made way in some work with Kneazle breeding laws and had stayed late to make sure I was organized for the next day and when I came home he accused me of cheating on him. It was preposterous and we were so beyond repair that we were at the point where he didn't even think to realize that the notion was completely absurd. I said awful things in return and he left. Again," she was now crying quietly but the words kept coming. Neville couldn't help but feel terrible. She was so amazing and didn't deserve for her life to fall to pieces so terribly.

"As I told you, he eventually came back. I had felt pretty terrible and was throwing up a lot and had gone to see a healer who told me that I was pregnant. I don't know how Ron found out, but he came back and proposed and apologized for being such a prat and promised to take better care of me. First I was elated because well…I thought I loved him. Eventually it wore on me. All he did was pander to me and treat me like I was fragile and it was annoying. More than annoying. It was degrading. He'd come home with roses and chocolates and diamonds and all I wanted was sincerity and honesty and maybe a real apology. Or even better some recognition that we did have issues and instead of ignoring them an attempt to work them out. I didn't want to be tied forever to someone who couldn't be a man enough to talk about his feelings and work through problems. What happened when the honeymoon period wore off and we went back to fighting constantly as Ron and I have a propensity for doing? We're so different and so stubborn and neither of us are willing to give in and say we're wrong. I don't even feign interest in what he does and he certainly doesn't either. How can you be with someone forever when all you talk about petty argument and all you do is have sex or be showered with gifts to make it better. It just wasn't something I could do to myself or bring a child into," she trailed off going silent.

"Hermione, wow. I understand all of that except one thing. Why do you think everyone is mad at you? Surely they can all understand that sometimes relationships don't work out?"

"I…well…I tried to leave Ron and he came after me telling me there was no way I was having a son or daughter of his and not letting him be a part of their lives. I had never seen him so angry. After the weeks of gifts and fakeness, the snap back to us fighting stunned me more than it should have. It was a terrible row and it got so bad he blocked the door and pushed me away from it. I tried to get past him and he grabbed me and shoved me against the wall and said I wasn't going anywhere. He was never violent with me. Ever. He had always been Ron. Not particularly bright, but brave, loyal, charming, funny and loving but I think something in him snapped that day. I think he was terrified of the thought of me leaving. I apparated out that day and when I saw him next he apologized profusely and tried to get me to come home but I knew I couldn't. Something in his eyes that day terrified me. I don't think he would have ever hurt me but his lose of control was scary and unforgivable. I…well…please don't hate me Neville. I didn't know what to do. I told him I was leaving for good. He begged me on behalf of the child and I don't know why I said it but I told him…I told him that I terminated the pregnancy. I've never been so disgusted with myself. The look in his eyes was horrifying. He just apparrated away with a look of pure hatred and contempt. I got a howler from the Weasleys and let's just say it wasn't pretty. I went to Harry's to talk to him and he wouldn't speak to me except that he was revolted that I would do such an immoral and awful thing. Ginny asked me to leave and not come back. She was his sister first and foremost. I had nowhere to go and everyone thought I was a monster and there was nothing I could do to take it back," she broke down in uneven sobs, recoiling away from Neville's touch.

"Please don't Neville. I told you that you'd hate me. How could you not. I did this terrible thing," she cried, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Hermione, but you didn't. You just lied," to which she just cried harder. Gathering Hermione in his arms he was shocked by how light she was. Rocking back and forth he held her close until her sobs turned to sniffles and her breathing evened out. She had fallen asleep.

Carefully he disentangled himself from her and tucked her in. Turning to leave, he stopped and bent back down and kissed her gently on the forehead.

Her pain was killing her and she had done nothing wrong. Well she had told a terrible lie, but how could he blame her when all she had done was to get out of a life that she didn't want.

His goal was clear. He needed to convince her that he was here for her. He cared about her and would take care of her and one day when the baby came he would do whatever he could to help her get her life back together. That's what friends are for and if she needed just that or more than he would be there.

Exhausted from the tumultuous day, he shut her door behind her and walked to his, stripping of his dirty clothes, showering, and falling into bed. Chloe joined him, licking his arm in an attempt to comfort him. For the first time in years, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

The Remebrall downstairs glowed red as a picture of a furious girl sitting alone on a beach reflected in its depths.


	14. Late Night Conversations

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

**Author's Note: Sorry it was finals week for me and I had lots of studying to do. I'm back but with writer's block so this is a short filler. **

Chapter 14: Late Night Conversations

_Hermione's point of view._

Panting, Hermione sat straight up in confusion. It was the nightmares again. This was a new one, however. Her subconscious had plenty of horrors to draw on for creativity but she'd never had this particular dream before.

In the dream she was in the Great Hall at Hogwarts and everyone she knew and loved was catcalling and jeering at her. Alone under the spotlight she was being told to piss off and never come back, that she was a monster and worse. Then Neville's face had appeared in the crowd and desperately she had called to him only to have him tell her she was undeserving of friendship and love even though she had told him the truth.

Falling back onto her pillows she breathed deeply trying to get her emotions in control.

"It's just a dream, Hermione, don't be irrational. Go back to sleep, you've been through so much worse," she murmured to herself.

Just as she began to doze off again, she heard a yell from the next room. Alarmed, she sat back up abruptly and swung her legs out of bed. Pacing quietly out of her room, she walked to the room next to hers and gently pushed the door inwards.

The sound of stifled sobs reached her ears and she took a step forward towards the noise.

"Neville?" she whispered, hoping not to frighten him.

"He..Hermione!" Neville hiccupped, breathing heavily, "Did I wake you. Merlin, I'm so sorry," he stammered out.

This was the cautious timid voice of the boy she knew from years ago, she thought to herself.

"No no no, don't worry. I was awake. Terrible dream," she said, still standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"You alright?" he asked, ever the gentleman, his voice sounding worried.

"I suppose," she replied, fibbing a little, "You?"

"Truthfully?" he asked, his voice earnest and embarrassed, "No not at all."

Moving closer, Hermione sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyesight in the dark was terrible and she accidently sat on what seemed to be his leg. He made a small cough of embarrassment and she readjusted her position and with a rustle, he moved as well.

"I guess I should tell you the truth too then," she mumbled, slightly ashamed that she had told the white lie in the first place. He was never anything but honest and she used to be that way as well.

"You don't have you, Hermione," he replied quickly, "We all have our secrets and I know you're not okay. I was never the smartest but even I could tell that much. I mean before the last few days I think I had only ever seen you cry maybe once."

She grimaced at his self-effacing nature and her memories of the constant waterworks she was forcing upon him and then realized he probably couldn't see her face.

"I know your smart, Nev. And sorry about all the crying, I'm a bit of a mess it seems" she said and heard the rustle of him shaking his head.

"Now you're just saying that to make me feel better and a bit might be an understatment" he replied, "What was your dream about?"

"I really don't want to think about it," she returned ruefully, "Yours?"

"It's complicated," he said shortly and then chuckled.

"What?"

"We're quite the pair, aren't we," he chuckled.

His good humor made her smile. How many people did she know who could go from terrified and crying to laughing and making her laugh in the span of a few minutes?

"It seems so," she grinned and then they both lapsed into silence.

"I think I'll go back to bed," she said eventually and he grunted in reply. It seems that he had already begun to fall back asleep.

She got up trying not to disturb him and a hand grabbed her wrist.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"This may be terribly forward, but would you stay?" he questioned, sounding positively frightened.

"I thought you had already fallen back asleep?" she asked, surprised that he was still awake.

"No, I was just…thinking. Surprising, I know," he replied.

"Stop it, Nev. Sure, I'll stay."

"You sure? I don't mean to make things awkward. I just feel happier when you're with me and I haven't gotten a peaceful nights sleep in years," he trailed off.

"I'm happy to stay," she replied, truthfully surprising herself. She hadn't put herself out there like this in forever and sleeping in the same bed as another man, even if it was Neville was pretty out there.

Unsure of what to expect, she move back closer to the bed and the springs creaked as she climbed back on. Neville hugged her quickly and moved to the other side of the bed, lying back down. She lied down as well, pulling the covers back up around her, nestling into the warm spot Neville had just left.

She laid there quietly for a bit and listened carefully as his breathing began to even out. Hermione snaked her hand out and found his and placed it beneath, glad for the warmth and comfort.

Unexpectedly, he hand curled around hers and squeezed tight for a moment releasing before it became painful.

She smiled and sunk quickly back into sleep. Holding his hand felt so perfect. She had missed feeling this content.


	15. The Truth Comes Out

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

**Author's Note: Review, review review! **

Chapter 15: The Truth Comes Out

_Neville's point of view._

Waking refreshed Neville sat up and stretched. Blinking his eyes to focus, he twisted around to crack his back and almost jumped out of his skin. Lying next to him was Hermione.

Last nights events came back to him in a rush as he remembered them both having nightmares and falling asleep holding hands. Confused about where this put them he sat and watched her sleep for a bit.

He had never seen a girl sleeping before. No sisters, living in an all boy's dormitory and then living by himself had done that. She looked so peaceful. She was frowning a bit and her eyes under her eyelids were shifting back and forth rapidly.

I wonder if she's dreaming about me, he thought and then pushed it from his mind. It was unlikely. Hermione was so logical and sophisticated and echelons above him. He doubted she had feelings for him. It would be too weird. It would sort of be like all his dreams coming true but also a tad unlucky for her. I mean what could he possibly bring to the relationship?

Then again, he thought, she did agree to stay last night. Devil's advocate would say that she most likely stayed because she was scared as well. She did say she had been having bad dreams. Maybe they just slept together as friends. Crap. He definitely needed to not think about it as sleeping together. That was bringing all sorts of other ideas to his head and thinking like that about her while she was lying there next to him would be a bad and slightly torturous idea.

It was then that she shifted slightly in her sleep, some of her hair falling over her brow. It looked so inviting lying there all spread out on the pillow, just begging to have his hands running through it. Wondering if it was soft, he reached out slowly and brushed one of the wavy tendrils away from her eyes.

Taking it gently in his fingers, he twirled it around amazed by how smooth it was. It wasn't soft per say but silky sort of like how an aloe leaf felt.

And there goes my brain thinking about plants again, he smiled. I have such a one-track mind he began to think when the unthinkable happened.

Hermione opened her eyes.

Unfocused at first, they shifted quickly from alarm to confusion and then to embarrassment.

With that, she sat up abruptly and he warily noticed she wasn't wearing a bra.

Shit shit shit, he thought and pulled the blankets to his waist as subtly as he could. Thankfully she wasn't looking at him, but instead around the room. She looked like a startled animal.

Reaching out, he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione, relax, it's okay," he soothed.

She turned and looked at him and he noticed her eyes head south.

"Neville, you're not wearing a shirt," she pointed out, more as a statement than a question.

"And there's my girl! Always the observant one!" he cheered, clapping his hands together. He wasn't entirely sure why he was being sarcastic with her. It had become sort of an automatic thing around Giulia that it had sort of slipped out.

"Oh yeah?" Hermione replied raising her eyebrow. "When did you become mister back talk?" she asked, amusement crinkling at the corners of her eyes.

"I haven't changed all that much," he admitted, "Truthfully I was always like this with like Luna or Ginny. I just never felt like I could joke around you. Plus Harry and Ron were always around and would have thought I was a git."

At that her eyebrows raised higher. He realized quickly he may have said too much so he tried to backtrack.

"Not that I liked you or Ron or Harry less. It was just easier with Ginny of Luna. They had lower expectations of me. I never worried about not being smart of good enough with them."

A hurt look crossed Hermione's face and he noted to himself that he had probably just inserted his foot farther in his mouth than before. Clapping his hand over his mouth he mumbled an apology and then her features turned to a look of irritation.

"Neville why are you apologizing?"

"Well, you looked upset so I figured I should," he admitted, not entirely sure why he had, he just knew that what he said had probably offended her.

"Nev, I'm not upset with you at all. I'm just, well I'm a little shocked you felt that way about me. About us."

"What do you mean?"

"Like you weren't good enough for us."

With that he laughed.

"Hermione, no one felt like they were good enough to run with you three. You had your secrets and your battles and your private conversations and the rest of us just watched and tried to stay out of your way. I mean the one time I stepped in between you three and your goal, I ended up freezing my ass on the common room floor for the rest of the evening until one of the prefects found me."

She looked down and away at this and he once again realized what he said was probably taking it a little to far. Scooching closer on the bed, he put his arm around Hermione shoulders.

"I don't mean any harm by saying this, Hermione. None of us took it personally I swear it. I just. Well I've always been a little intimidated by you. I used to just avoid saying too much around you to avoid looking like a moron but now it seems I'm saying too much."

"Intimidated, by me?" she grumbled, not meeting his eyes.

"Well sure," he laughed. How could she not understand her effect on people?

"Hermione, you're bloody brilliant and not just in the smart way. You're beautiful and caring and sensitive and such an amazing friend."

She looked up at him now, tears in her eyes.

"Gee, Hemione! I didn't mean to make you cry! I'm sorry!"

"Stop saying your sorry, Neville," she giggled and leaned in closer, putting her head on his shoulder.

"Why're you crying then?" Neville asked, confused. Girls made his head hurt, particularly this one

"That was perhaps the sweetest thing anyone had said to me in…in well years," she said frankly.

Ron didn't tell her obvious things like this, Neville thought to himself. What an arse. He was close to marrying the most perfect woman on the planet and never told her what an incredible and amazing person she was. In an instant, Neville was both pissed off and delighted. Ron's loss was his gain and he wasn't going to let Hermione think about Ron for another second. What a foul git.

Tilting her chin up with his finger, Neville prepared himself to do the most courageous thing he had ever done in his whole life. Forget chopping the head of some snake or telling the most evil man to ever exist to piss off. This was going to require ever last debatable ounce of Gryffindor spirit in him.

"Hermione, you are the most stunningly gorgeous girl I have even had the pleasure of knowing in my life," noticing her eyes tearing up again and his cheeks probably turning scarlet, he tried to lighten the moment, "And we all know that I have so much experience with beautiful women," he chuckled and she smiled and laughed.

She looked beautiful when she laughed he noticed fondly. With a sudden desire to keep her laughing as long as possible, he reached down, and tickled her waist.

She shrieked in surprise, laughing and cursing. Encouraged he continued as tears streamed down her cheeks, this time from happiness.

Leaping up and fending off his hands, she pushed the covers off her and tried to tickle him.

Shit. She wasn't wearing pants he noticed. Just a shirt and underwear. Shit. He froze, suddenly aware of how little clothing the girl he had dreamed about for years was wearing. In his bed. Laughing and smiling.

She froze too, he noticed, looking at him curiously when he realized the covers had moved to down around his knees in the midst of all that.

"Shit," he said, this time aloud, yanking the covers back up to around his waist. Damn it, he thought, now she thinks I'm some sort of pervert when she's just friends with me and here I am all turned on and obvious about it. Why am I just wearing boxers? Why is this the one night I don't wear pants to bed? Why does everything in my life need to be so awkward? His mind reeled as he looked away, his cheeks surely aflame.

"Neville?" she murmured, clearly not helping because her voice alone sounded sexy.

"What?"

"Do you have feelings for me?" she asked and he whipped around. Did that really just come out of her mouth of what he hearing things?

"What?" he asked, his mouth gaping open. His Gran hate it when he did that but he was too flabbergasted to care.

"You heard me," she said, her bossy voice coming out unexpectedly.

"Since fourth year," he thought and then when her eyes widened he realized, "Shit I said that out loud didn't I."

She just nodded.

"Look Hermione, I'm really sorry. It's just a ridiculous crush, I never expected to ever tell you or for it to matter. I'm sure it's not returned, I mean how could it be, I'm this big fat bumbling oaf and you could do so much better so forget I just said that…" he trailed off his cheeks burning brighter than they had before. How he wished his cheeks didn't show his feelings so much.

"Neville, I…." she began and he cut her off.

"You're grossed out. Worse, no, you're disgusted. I mean we're just friends and what I said was inappropriate. You're practically married and have a baby and you came here looking for a friend and I'm ruining it for you and you just need someone to support you and not be an ignorant prick like Ron and that's all I am, that's all I need to be…."

And then he was interrupted with the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him in his whole like. Hermione was kissing him and it was like he was floating.

Everything went numb and he saw stars behind his closed eyes. Heat burned on his mouth and elsewhere but all he could focus on was how soft her lips were against his.

She pulled away quickly looking embarrassed. It had been a rather chaste kiss but ten times more incredible than anything he'd ever experienced before.

"Her…Her…Hermione?" he stuttered. Shit he thought to himself. There goes my embarrassing inability to form words correctly. Perfect moment down the drain.

Smiling, she got up and leaned over and kissed him again, this time on the forehead.

"Neville, you're perfect," she smiled and turned and walked out of the room with more swing in her step than he'd ever seen before. He wasn't ashamed to admit he stared at her ass the whole way out.

Collapsing back on the pillows he realized the only thing to bring him out of this daze was one seriously long cold shower. Getting up with a sigh, he walked toward the bathroom praying that wasn't just a dream.


	16. Cold Showers

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

**Author's Note: Hey all, I'm back. It's been a hectic month for me. I'll spare you all the sob story IF you guys get some reviews in. Poor Pwoper Lily (shoutout!) is doing all the hard work. I believe reviewing is the most important part of . Every time I read a story, I try take a minute to write a short review. It's what bolsters confidence or points someone in the right direction. I'm not gonna be that writer who says, "I'm not posting new content until I get _ reviews," but please, for me, if you like this story, give me some feedback. Hugs and kisses y'all.**

Chapter 16: Cold Showers

_Hermione's point of view._

Hermione closed the door quickly behind her and paced the room for a few minutes, fully aware that she probably had just done something remarkably stupid. She needed to clear her head now because all she could think about was how handsome Neville had just looked without his shirt and his hair tousled from sleep. The way his eyes were still heavy lidded from just waking up and the way his hand felt on her when he was tickling her. She had laughed. Easily. It had been so long that she had woken up and felt completely at ease and not like a hostage in her unfortunate situation. Plus Neville was just such an incredible guy. How had she overlooked that?

Frustrated, she went to shower. She had heard cold showers helped clear your mind. She turned the faucet on and dropped her clothing on the floor. Stepping into the shower, she stifled a yelp as the cold water instantly raised goose bumps on her body.

Forget this, she thought as she scrambled as far away from the cold stream as she could, pressing against the wall as she clumsily reached to turn the heat up. What idiot thought cold showers were ever a good idea she thought as the water warmed up?

She stood under the water enjoying the warmth when she realized it.

"Oh my god, I just kissed Neville," she muttered, shaking the water out of her eyes. Turns out she had been smiling like a kid on Christmas because she needed to spit the shower water out too. Who was she and where was Hermione?

Her mind was going a mile a minute with the realization that she had not only spent the night in Neville's bed but she had kissed him the next morning. And seen his _affection_.

And he said liked her…Had liked her for a long time? How had she never noticed?

Then again there were all those times he would save a seat in class or in the Great Hall, she admitted to herself. And all the times he would smile at you in passing or say hi, how are you. But that was just him being nice, wasn't it?

Of course he wasn't just being nice, he just said he had liked her for a long time so you must have just not noticed, she reminded herself. Was it really because people had found her intimidating?

She thought people just disliked her because she was muggle born or because she always made everyone around her feel stupid, or so she had been told. To think that others saw her as unapproachable? She never would have guessed but now that she thought about it, she didn't have friendships with many other people and those relationships were tenuous at best.

"Damn it," she whispered realizing that Neville was probably right. That when she thought others saw her as smart and a know-it-all, they probably also perceived her as thinking she was superior and aloof cause she had only spent time with Harry and Ron.

Hermione stood under the stream of water as her thoughts turned back to Neville. She knew that all guys woke up…_stiff_… so maybe it had nothing to do with her? But why did the idea that it had been because of her make her feel so flattered? Not flattered but…dare she say it? Turned on?

She shook her head to clear that out of her thoughts. That's inappropriate, Hermione, she scolded herself. Looking at her feet, her beginnings of a bump in her abdomen immediately sobered her mood. It wasn't that she didn't want children. It was just the whole situation was awful. Ron's child would make her feel compelled to go back to Ron. She didn't want to give birth to a child and not let him or her know their dad. That's why she felt so tied to Ron. She had no family left to speak of. But the idea of ever speaking to Ron again just pissed her off. He was such a... He just made her want to pull out her thesaurus so she could find the most foul word ever to describe him.

She shook that too from her mind, trying to forget it. Ruminating on her failed relationship was never a good idea. She began to count the tiles on the wall and unwittingly her mind flitted to wondering what Neville was thinking right now. She heard the shower in the other room start before hers had and wondered what Neville was thinking about. Maybe he was thinking of her? Maybe he had thought of a cold shower too? I mean she wasn't entirely naive. She knew what boys did behind closed doors when…things were up. Her best mates were two boys and she heard them talking when they thought she was involved in a book.

Her hands flew to her temples, pressing her eyes closed.

"No no no no," she whispered to herself. Stop thinking about Neville's _parts_, she admonished, feeling the heat of a blush creeping up her cheeks.

As the water ran she stood there and lost herself in thought.

Her eyes snapped open again and glanced at the door. Her daydreams had brought Neville into her room, opening the door to the loo and stepping into the shower with her. But the door was still closed. It hadn't really happened. It was just her imagination. It had always been one of her fantasies thought. Ron thought it was weird though. It required the light being on and that was a no-no in Ron's world.

"Stop it, Hermione, you are a raging hormonal mess and you need to start acting like a grown up," she said, trying to convince herself, trying to talk herself into not acting so crazy. Because how she had been was so unlike her. She was Hermione Granger: calm, cool, collected, always thinking before she spoke, never lying or acting spontaneously. She had never been a girl of action but a girl of careful planning and Neville probably thought she was crazy how she vacillated from happy to sobbing in the span of a few minutes.

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, will now officially stop acting like a nutter," she swore to herself and rushed through cleaning herself. She didn't want to waste all of Neville's hot water.

She finished, threw some clothes on and pocketed her wand to head downstairs. As she started down the steps she thought to herself, oh no how am I supposed to act normal around him now that I've gone and kissed him?

* * *

><p><em>Neville's point of view.<em>

Rolling out of bed, Neville trudged toward the loo, adjusting himself as he went. Thank god he was wearing boxers that didn't have the hole in the front or this morning could have gotten a whole lot more uncomfortable. Not only was he mortified that she had noticed but he had gone and told her he had practically loved her forever.

He rubbed his eyes, unable to believe he had sunken to the low of informing Hermione that he had been a cowardly pansy his whole life.

Damn it, he thought as he turned the faucet on. His boxers were still tented out. Looks like it's a cold shower for me today, he noted as he dropped trou and entered the shower. The cold immediately robbed the warmth from his blood and made _him_ chill out.

Looks like you can take the teenager out of puberty but you cant take the awkward out he thought, thoroughly depressed at how badly he had just embarrassed himself. But she had kissed him? That must mean something right? And said he was perfect but he was pretty sure she was just saying that to make him feel better.

Idiot, he thought. She probably just felt uncomfortable and was looking to comfort you. A voice reminded him that normal people give friend hugs to console. A friend did not kiss to make someone feel better, especially when said upset person had just admitted to liking you. Hermione wasn't the kind of girl to just go and kiss random people anyways. Was she?

Maybe it didn't really happen, he thought. Maybe it was a dream, he bargained. Looking down, he realized it was unlikely he would have needed a cold shower if it had not really happened. His subconscious had never blessed him with normal male dreams and he doubted it had started last night. Plus he had little to no experience to go on so his…imagination wasn't quite up to par with some of his old dorm mates.

So that meant she really had kissed him. Well bugger, why had she gone and done that? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was it a pity kiss? Did it mean she felt something for him too? He had heard that pregnant woman were hormonal but he doubted Hermione of all people would be _horny_. That was a boy thing? Wasn't it?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed. He didn't know what the hell this was. What did he know about women or any of this shit? His only sexual experience was with his hand. Gross, yeah but who was going to have changed that. Hogwarts wasn't particularly receptive toward nerdy, fat geeks who stammered more often than not and enjoyed pus-shooting plants. Not that he hadn't thought about sex. He was a red blooded male as much as the next guy but he'd never had the opportunity to get laid. So he hadn't. Not that he thought about it that way. The guys in his dormitory had talked about it. He remembered when Dean had mentioned it and he had been grossed out to realize Dean had been dating Ginny. But then he had been relieved cause Ginny had soon after dumped him and he knew she was safe from that…and he had heard Harry and Ron chat. Not that Harry ever spoke like that or talked about it. He was a gentleman. But Ron had been a real pig.

Ugh he had no idea what to do. He liked Hermione. Duh he liked Hermione, but she was kind of Ron's territory even though she'd left him. His freaking kid was in her stomach. Well not stomach, he wasn't stupid but still.

"Fuck," he cursed again. What the hell was he supposed to do now? What was Hermione thinking? Why the hell did she have to show up here and ruin his little peace filled island? What gave her the right to traipse in with her sob story and to completely confuse him? Not that the sob story still made sense to him but he knew better than to pry. People have their secrets he thought sullenly, reminded he should probably visit his parents.

He felt bad for thinking that way. She was his friend and she need him but god damn it, she couldn't have picked a worse time. He was finally starting to get over her. Him and Giulia were…he thought…

"FUCK…GIULIA," he choked out. He was supposed to meet her at the beach last night. He had stood her up. And kissed another girl. And slept with her but not really. It was Hermione, which made all his dreams come true but FUCK.

Who would have ever thought he would be in this situation? Having kissed two girls and now needing to figure out how to let one down even though he had no idea how the other felt about him. It just felt wrong, the idea of being with Giules. She was his best friend, more like a sister than anything else and it would be wrong to go beg for forgiveness when he would essentially just end up having to tell her he was helplessly in love with someone else. A someone who he had told her was just his friend.

But another part of him said he needed to move on and badly. It was bad news dwelling in the past and Giulia had been there to pick up the pieces when he first got here, his head in a bad place. For a long time they had been friends but in the last few months he had been letting her in on why he had bad dreams every night and why he left London in the first place. He didn't tell her much, he could tell she was curious and wanted to help but she was a muggle and there was that huge divide. But she was becoming more than a sister. She was his best friend, his confidant. The first person he had ever known who listened to him and didn't expect him to break into a sweat and stammer.

Yet there was so much more to it than that. Giulia, his beautiful Giules had made a move and he knew how hard that was for her. She had no trouble telling him how much she couldn't stand males and how much she feared being played for a fool and he had swore that he would never let anyone do that to her and now he was the one who held her heart in his hand. If Hermione hadn't shown up, they could have had a chance. He loved Giulia, he knew that and Merlin knows she was beautiful and funny and smart but Hermione was everything he never had.

Giulia was a chance for a new leaf and Hermione was the epitome of what he wanted but could never have had. Giulia was safe and Hermione came with baggage but god damn he couldn't get Hermione out of his mind. She wasn't tall and willowy like Giules but instead petite and fine boned. Where Hermione was bookish and clever, Giulia was astute and street smart. He didn't know what to do.

There he stood, under the cold water realizing if school had been a rough time, it was nothing compared to how bad his next encounter with Giules would be. How did he get himself in this position? He was Neville Longbottom for Merlin's sake. No where in his wildest dreams did he ever think he'd need to make this decision, let alone even be put in this situation in the first place.

Ugh this was gonna suck he decided. Forgetting to wash, he turned the water off and got out. He dressed and decided his plan. He had to go find Giulia and fast. At the very least apologize to her. He would figure out everything else when he found her. Until then he didn't wanna think about it. He couldn't lead Giulia on. His heart was invested in Hermione, even if he had no idea how she felt about him.

A major part of him was saying that Hermione was in the past and he needed to do what was best for him. He needed to move on. Giulia made him feel comfortable and brought out a side of him he liked best but was it fair to pick what was comfortable over what was perhaps a challenge. What was he thinking? He didn't know what fair was in this sense. None of this was fair. It was fair that Giulia had picked now to let him in on the fact that she had feelings for him. It wasn't fair that Hermione had picked now to show up. It wasn't fair that his life was always so painfully impossible. But it was life and he was getting used to it unfortunately. Whenever he thought there would finally be smooth sailing for him, some absurd thing blew in out of nowhere, knocking his whole world of tilt.

A small part of him suggested he find out how Hermione feels and if she wasn't interested to keep Giulia around but he immediately shot it down. That was an arsehole move and he would not be that guy. But what guy was he going to be? He needed to figure that out and fast.

Squaring his shoulders, he rushed to get out of the house before he saw Hermione. Seeing her would only make this so much more complicated. Chloe meowed at him when he got downstairs and he fed her quickly and rushed out the door. Hermione would figure out that he had gone out.

He started into town, feverishly trying to figure out how he was going to fix this mess.


	17. Conversations and Confessions

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the wait. Really and truly. I hope to get this story back on track. Does anyone reading this beta? Could anyone recommend a beta? I don't know how that works but I could really use one. **

Chapter 17: Conversations and Confessions

_Giulia's point of view._

Giulia was awake as the light started to shine through the window. She hadn't slept that much. She had too much on her mind.

Why had he stood her up, she wondered, staring blankly into space?

Sure Neville could be absent-minded but he had sincerely promised to meet her at the beach. He had suggested it. Sure occasionally when she had made the plans he'd forget but he had asked her to meet him.

She was more embarrassed than angry. Last night she had been fuming but by the time she had gotten back to her house, she had cooled down a little. He must have had a reason to flake. The girls were sleeping when she had gotten back.

She felt ashamed of her behavior. Her closet friends had come here to visit her and she was acting like a child. Enough was enough. If Neville wanted to be a jerk then fine, but she would deal with it after her friends left. She wasn't going to let him ruin her time spent with them.

It was then she felt one of the girls next to her roll over. Court and Kira had fallen asleep on her bed. It had been a tight squeeze but she didn't mind so much. Courtney used to have nightmares when they were younger and would climb into her bed all the time.

Sher, she assumed, had refused to participate in the cuddling and had made herself comfortable on the chair by the door in her room.

Giulia had no idea how she had managed to stay asleep contorted like that.

"How long have you been awake," Courtney mumbled, blinking at Giulia sleepily.

"Not too long," Giulia fibbed.

"Did I wake you up or something? Did I kick you?" Court asked sheepishly. Over the years, Giulia had gotten used to Courtney's thrashing at night.

"Nah, you know that doesn't bother me."

"Good," she replied, yawning and closing her eyes again. It was early still.

Giulia went back to her thoughts when Courtney spoke again.

"How was sneaking out to see the boy?"

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb, chica. I know you better than that."

"Did Sherry and Kira notice?" Giulia hesitated. She'd never hear the end of it if they had.

"You know them," Court chuckled. "When the two of them bicker, a bomb could go off and they wouldn't notice."

Giulia grinned at that. It was true. It was one of the reasons she loved them so much. Watching the two of them was like watching one of the soap operas that Courtney loved so much.

"You didn't answer me," Court observed, propping herself up on her elbow to look at her.

"There's nothing to tell," Giulia fibbed again. She didn't really want to say anything. Court held grudges when anyone messed with her friends.

"Liar."

Giulia grimaced.

"It was nothing, don't worry about it. We're going to wake Shereen and Kira if we don't be quiet."

"Shereen sleeps like the dead and Kira would just fall back asleep if we woke her up. She doesn't like gossiping. Seriously, what happened?"

Giulia groaned quietly. Part of her wanted to tell Courtney everything and get some advice, but she hated whining to Courtney. She had enough problems, she didn't need to be burdened with anymore. Plus it was better to keep her mouth shut. You didn't need to take back words that you never said.

"Stop it, I can tell what your thinking. Just tell me. I won't hurt the guy. Much," Court grinned toothily.

"No really, it's nothing."

"Giules. It's early. Can you please not be a total pain in the butt?"

"Fine. He didn't show up." Giulia said reluctantly.

"Seriously? Seriously…?!"

"Well yeah…" Giulia murmured sheepishly.

"Seriously." Courtney replied, eyes wide, her head shaking back and forth.

"Court. I love you but if you 'seriously' me one more time I'm going to kiss your unrefined American ass."

"Bitch. Shut up. You love my American ass. But he really blew you off? What a skeeze." Courtney huffed.

"I don't know, I'm sure he has a reason…right?"

"Yeah he was probably banging that brunette chick we were on the boat with." Courtney said rolling her eyes. Until she noticed the look of shock and hurt on her friends face. "Shit, Giules. I was joking."

"You….You don't think he really was? Was he… ? After what happened yesterday…he said they were just friends." Giulia stammered, her eyes filling with tears.

"No, no sweetheart of course not. I just…well you know me. I open my mouth before I think my words through."

"Yeah….I know. I need some air I think. I'm going to go for a walk."

"You want me to tag along? I could kick his butt. You know I could"

"No, I know. And I know you would. I just really need to be alone for a bit."

"Alright, if you're sure, I'll hold down the fort. Look Giules…if things don't go well and you need to get away, you know you're always welcome to stay with me. Just food for thought. Anyways, will you be back before sleeping beauty twins wake up?"

"Yeah, it's only 9, I won't be long." Giulia promised, the offer making her smile. Courtney gave her hand a comforting squeeze and put her head back down and dragged a pillow over her face to block the light. By the time Giulia had swept her hair back into a ponytail and changed into clothes, Courtney was back to sleep.

She walked downstairs and saw her two siblings watching the tv.

"Hey guys, I'm headed to the beach. Tell mom I'll be back in a bit."

Antonio waved behind him without glancing away from the cartoons but Aria got up and walked over.

"Are you alright?" Aria asked, her intuitiveness never failing to catch her older sister's moods.

"Yeah. Just need some air."

"There is air in here. What's wrong?" her sister asked.

Rolling her eyes at the sass, she shook her head.

"Nothing, Ar. I just want to go for a walk."

"Did something happen with you and Neville?" Aria probed. The flash of sadness in her sister's eyes confirmed even as Giulia shook her head no.

"No, he is fine. Go watch your show. " Giulia suggested and scooted out the door before her sister could ask any more questions. She loved the kid but sometimes she felt like she could read minds. It was uncanny.

She made a beeline for her beach. It was her thinking place and not even Neville could ruin that.

* * *

><p><em>Neville's point of view.<em>

Neville stepped onto the beach and stopped to take off his shoes. He had checked at her house first and Aria had opened the door. She had rudely told him that Giulia had gone to their beach and to leave her alone. Then she had slamed the door in his face. He had been taken aback by Aria's look of distaste but set off for the beach anyways. Their beach, Aria had called it. He sighed. This was gonna hurt.

She was standing down closer to the surf staring at the horizon. As he shuffled closer, he cleared his throat warily. He didn't want to scare her and he knew that this encounter might not be pretty. She was usually fairly tolerant of his forgetfulness but it was iffy and sometimes she got pretty angry.

"Hi." Giulia said quietly. She didn't turn to him; she didn't even open her eyes. Just stood there.

"Giules, I…" he started and stopped again when she held her hand up to pause him. She still didn't turn around and he stood their, slightly behind her waiting.

She was silent however and as he opened his mouth to speak again, she held up her hand again, but still didn't turn to face him.

With a sigh he closed his mouth and looked out at the ocean. He was puzzled. This wasn't what expected. Yelling, tears, anger, her trying to punch him weakly were all his expectations but she just stood there. Her eyes opened but she stared unseeing out at the ocean. He glanced at her nervously but she almost seemed to be ignoring him. As minutes dragged by the silence became unbearable.

"I'm sorry, Giules," he said looking at her earnestly. She held up her hand again but didn't even glance at him. Frustrated, he reached out and grabbed her hand and she jumped and whipped her face to his. It was only then he noticed the tear marks.

"Giules, I'm so sorry I forgot. Something came up and I just..." he trailed off as she shook her hand free and went back to facing the ocean.

"Say something. Please?" he cajoled and she looked down at her feet and mumbled something.

"What? I didn't catch that," he inquired, stepping closer to her but she stepped away and it surprised him in that moment how deeply that wounded him.

After another minute of quiet while she seemed to be at war with herself, she looked back at him.

"Neville you're a real jerk, you know that right?" she said with almost a grin but the tears that spilled over again proved she wasn't smiling from amusement or happiness.

"I…I really am sorry. I…" he started again only to be waved off. This started to annoy him. "Would you stop telling me to be quiet, I'm trying to..."

"I love you, Neville," Giulia said, tears still meandering down her face but her voice was steady, as she looked him in the eye. In that moment he was blown away by how beautiful she was. Even while crying.

They said they loved each other all the time but he could tell this was different. He didn't know what to say. He looked at her blankly and was surprised when she snorted and turned back to facing the sea.

"What?" he asked without thinking.

"Nothing, I'm just laughing because of all the people in the world I never thought you would be the one who would make me feel this way," she said, trying to stifle her giggles which he only just recognized as being slightly hysterical.

He was way out of his depth here. Angry he could handle. Crying he could handle. This emotion, this strange response was foreign. He didn't know what she was talking about.

"Feel what way?" he asked dumbly which only made her laugh harder.

Incredulously she faced him, the tears streaming down her face contrasting oddly with her display of mirth.

"This terrible, awful feeling of love and abandonment," she managed, barely.

"I…I… d…don't understand," he stammered and she stifled her hysterical giggles.

"I. I love you," Giulia said with a look of wonder on her face. "I love you and I hate you all at the same time. You are my best friend and here I was thinking that you would never hurt me but you have managed to hurt me more deeply than any other guy I have ever met."

"I said I was sorry! What do you mean hurt you more than anyone else? You know how I forget sometimes!" Neville replied reproachfully. This reaction was way out of nowhere he could hardly keep up.

"Please," she huffed all traces of laughter gone, "I'm hardly angry about you forgetting. It's not that at all."

"Then what are you talking about," he asked roughly.

"You lied. And you don't even realize it," she commented her face an odd mask of awareness.

"I never lied!" Neville practically shouted, frustrated with this odd behavior. What the hell was going on.

"You love that girl. You said she was only a friend but I can see it in your eyes. Something has changed. You lied yesterday. You love her," Giulia stated, her voice sounding detached, almost distant. In a brief moment of nostalgia, Neville realized she almost sounded like Luna.

How could she tell? Why was she saying this? How could she possibly know his feelings?

"Neville, you are my best friend. You think that people don't notice you. You think that you aren't worthy of being noticed but I do and I know you. I can tell something changed yesterday after I saw you."

"How?" he managed, bewildered by the turn of events.

"I just...know…." she said pensively. The laughter had stopped but tears were still coursing down her face and she swiped at them angrily.

"Neville. I love you. God I'm just realizing how much I love you and for how long but…I…you're…as they say, 'off the hook.'"

"Wait, what? I'm not following. Off the hook?"

"Yes. Everything you told me yesterday and those kisses. Consider it all forgotten," she said, sounding slightly off, a little unbalanced.

All he could manage was to gape at her. She was moving so fast and he couldn't process it all. Her emotions and what she was saying, he couldn't keep up.

"Yes. That will do it. I think I will go now," she said, stilted, and turned to walk away.

"Wait," he cried and reached out and grasped her shoulder. "Giulia what is going on. I don't understand."

She turned to him slowly and he was surprised by the look in her eyes. Well the lack of look really. She looked empty. Hollow. Emotionless. She was no longer crying and had steeled her face to be a closed book.

She spoke slowly as if he was a child.

"Don't worry about anything. About us. We're fine. I really need to go," and with that she yanked out of his grasp and walked away.

As he watched her, an odd pang of loss led him to call out her name. It had all happened so fast but he got the feeling that this was the end of something. If he didn't stop her now he'd loose his friend forever. She stopped but didn't turn around.

"Giulia. I love you too. Are we…Are we still friends?" he called out, unsure and unsteady.

"Yeah. Sure," she said and was gone.

In that moment, Neville felt like someone had just ripped his heart out.


	18. Three Little Words

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.**

**Author's Note: Two in a day in return for my ridiculously long hiatus. Maybe more if I feel up to it.**

Chapter 18: Three Little Words

_Hermione's point of view._

As she descended the stairs after her shower, she expected an awkward Neville to be around but he seemed to have taken off. Initially she was embarrassed that he had run out right after that but she admittedly needed some time to think things through. She sat at the counter and jumped a little when Chloe hopped up onto the counter and sat down just out of reach staring at her balefully. She stuck her tongue out at the cat. A cat who didn't like her was just odd. She could have sworn the cat seemed to roll its eyes and hop off the counter to trot off but she rationalized that cats couldn't roll their eyes. She sat at the counter lost in thought. She wasn't hungry but she wasn't queasy which was a unsuspected relief.

Neville came back after a time and looked as if he had been crying. She asked what was wrong but he had told her he didn't want to talk about it. Alarmed she thought she had ruined everything and after a hug from him and some consoling that it had nothing to do with her she believed him. She helped him clean up around the house and weed some of the plants but he spoke only when she asked him a question and otherwise seemed withdrawn and sad.

Try as she might, he would not tell her what was wrong and he seemed so forlorn that she couldn't even get frustrated with him for it. The rest of the day she tried to be cheery and happy for him but that ended promptly around dinner when the smell offended her growing child and she had to run to the bathroom.

After that, they sat with the television on in silence that wasn't uncomfortable but was definitely subdued. He eventually bid her goodnight and went upstairs and closed his door. She followed suit and lay awake thinking of what could possibly have gone wrong. He had been smiling when she had left this morning. Maybe he had thought about it and been upset by her silliness. Or maybe he was beginning to regret his acceptance of her condition and the reasons behind it. Eventually she fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning she woke up and wandered downstairs to a cheery Neville. His eyes still looked unfathomably sad but he had made a full breakfast and was chattering about his plants. When she asked again what had happened he had told her not to worry about it, it would resolve in time.

After a few days when the sadness had still not resolved he finally revealed to her what happened.

"Giulia's gone," he stated almost out of nowhere, collapsing into a chair.

"What? Gone? What happened? Is she ok? Do her parents know where she is? If she's gone missing someone should call the authorities. I'll help you," Hermione exclaimed, bustling to sit down across from him. He looked utterly miserable.

"No, no, no, not like that. She and I….well we had this huge row….Or I think we did. It's all very unclear and when I went looking for her the other day her mother said that she and all her friends had packed up and gone. Apparently, she left for the United States with one of her friends and her mother was unwilling to say when she'd be back. And I tried to ask her sister or brother but Aria won't speak to me and Antonio says he has no idea," Neville rushed slowly rubbing his temple.

"That makes no sense. How could she just take off and not say goodbye. You're best friends, you must have some idea. No fight could be that bad…." Hermione trailed off lamely knowing very well that some fights could be that bad and could end friendships that seemed unbreakable.

"It was bad and I truthfully don't even know quite what happened," he admitted.

"Well tell me and let's see if I can help you work it out."

"I can't, it was so personal. And I think part of it involved you. I'm unsure…"

"Oh." Hermione said, sitting up and awkwardly examining her sleeve for lint. They had fought about her. That couldn't be good. She wondered what had happened and was chastising herself for ruining his friendship when he spoke again.

"Look, Hermione, I just…it's a really long story and I don't want you to think it was your fault!"

"But you just said…"

"I know what I said and I...well I guess I don't know what to say…I'm messing everything up," Neville bemoaned and sunk his head into his hands.

"Neville, if you can, just tell me. Maybe it will help talking about it and I promise I won't get upset. I'll even try to control my hormones," she added hoping for the laugh.

When he looked up at her with a slight chuckle she grinned.

"Come now, I don't bite. Tell me what happened. I'm a girl maybe I can shed some light into what she's thinking," Hermione suggested and Neville smiled. His first genuine smile in days.

"Hermione, have I told you lately how wonderful you are?" Neville asked, looking at her with an awfully serious face. Hermione blushed and smiled and gestured for him to talk. As he told her the whole story she realized more and more how much her showing up here might have changed both of their lives as they knew it.

They stayed up long into the night, talking about Neville's plight and his love for his best friend.

"Hermione, she's like a sister. I can't loose her. I don't know what to do. I can't reach her to contact her and I doubt she'd reply even if I could."

"Neville I'm so sorry this is all my fault."

"Stop saying that, it's not. It truly isn't. It just how things happened. Life goes on right?" Neville added grimly and Hermione nodded, empathizing deeply with the pain of loosing a best friend. They sat in silence for a time when suddenly Neville spoke up.

"I love her," he said quietly looking at his hands and an suddenly Hermione felt this overwhelming wave of jealousy.

"…But…I love you as well," he said, looking at her, catching her eyes and Hermione stared at him in shock.

"What?"

"It's so complicated, I hardly know how to explain it. I've been in turmoil for days. I love her. And I love you. It's different. I could see myself with Giulia. She's my best friend and I have no doubt we would be happy but….Hermione, it's always been you."

Hermione stared at him in shock. He had stopped looking at her and went back to staring at his hands.

"I don't know what to say."

"Oh, man, I don't expect you to say anything! I hardly even know what I'm saying," Neville snorted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Hermione, I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember. And I don't expect you to feel the same way. Hell, I'd think you were crazy if you did. But if there's any chance you might, let me know. Not now. Of course not now. But you know where I'll be."

With this he smiled at her. A warm, loving, compassionate smile that made Hermione smile back. Her head was reeling from his heartfelt declaration but she didn't feel uncomfortable. She just felt happy. She felt loved and needed. It was something she hadn't felt in a long time and she reveled in it.

"I'm going to bed now," Neville remarked standing up and clapping his hands together. "Oh Merlin this is awkward. Look Hermione, I'm not saying pretend I never said anything, cause I meant what I said. But I'm going to retreat to the comfort of denial and pretend this conversation never happened unless I need to. Sound good?"

Hermione smiled at his distress weakly. He was being so good natured about this and she was blown away with the ease with which he told her how he felt and the proceeded to try and make sure that she wasn't uncomfortable when most men she'd encountered would have let their pride and feelings do all the talking. She smiled more fully at him and stoof and embraced him quickly. He stiffened at first but relaxed and rested his head on top of hers. He was so tall, her head leaned against his chest and she felt his heartbeat strong and steady. They stayed like that for longer than most hugs would last until she stepped away and grinned, blushing.

"Guess it's time for bed now right?" She suggested as a way to break the tension.

"Merlin's beard, yes!" he sighed with relief and they each retreated to their individual bedrooms.

Sleep did not come easily for either.


End file.
