Drabble the ninth
Pure fluff.
For my very dear sbertie- *hugs hard*
Prompt: H/Hr from Neville's PoV, in Hogsmeade.
What Neville Knew
Neville had always known it would happen.
So he wasn’t surprised when he saw Harry and Hermione together while they walked through Hogsmeade. Ron was with them, of course, but Neville could see that, somehow, Harry and Hermione were a pair, a couple, though they didn’t touch or anything. Ron was somehow slightly separate from them, in spite of the fact that Ron and Harry were doing most of the talking and Ron was laughing. But even without talking, there was still a palpable connection between Harry and Hermione. There always had been, in some odd, indefinable way. And Neville had seen it if no one else had.
It was something about the way they looked at each other, about the way they acted with each other, so comfortably as if the other person was merely an extension of themselves in some way.
Neville knew others had speculated about Ron and Hermione for several years, had pointed out their bickering as evidence of attraction. He’d even had to acknowledge that Ron had appeared to be jealous of Krum-but somehow, he’d always thought Harry and Hermione would end up together.
Because he’d seen the way Hermione’s eyes lit up whenever she saw Harry; he’d seen how she automatically turned to Harry whenever something happened. And he saw the way Harry trusted Hermione, relied on her-in little things and in little ways that all added up to a depth of trust that was almost stunning. Neville doubted Harry himself even realized how much he relied on Hermione but Neville, with the benefit of his position as an outsider to the Trio, could see it and to him, it was that sort of trust that was more significant than any bickering.
Of course, Neville had to admit that he wanted Harry and Hermione to end up together simply because he liked them and it seemed fitting that the two people who’d always been kind to him would end up together. Oh, Neville liked Ron as well, and Ron had never been anything other than friendly but Ron’s had been a casual friendliness that came without thought, the way Ron treated just about everyone who wasn’t in Slytherin, a manifestation of Ron’s rather uncomplicatedly friendly personality. Harry and Hermione had been consciously kind to him. Harry had never laughed at him and Neville remembered little things Harry had done that had helped Neville, saved him from ridicule-and, for all that Neville had always been slightly awed by the very ease with which Harry revealed his courage, without a second thought, Harry had never treated Neville as anything but an equal, a friend.
And Hermione-Hermione, who’d been the first girl, first person, to introduce herself to him on the Hogwarts Express their first year and then volunteer to help him find Trevor. And despite his tendency to be intimidated or awed by her obvious cleverness, Hermione had never made him feel lacking. She usually had encouraging words or a smile for him and Neville remembered very clearly how, after a particularly bad day in Potions, when Snape had been more than usually cruel, Hermione had sought him out afterwards to ask him a question about Herbology, which had made him feel better about himself. It wasn’t often that Hermione, without a doubt the cleverest witch of their year, asked anyone a question. And then later, Neville had discovered by accident that Hermione had manufactured the question purely to encourage him, when he’d overheard her explaining the same thing she’d asked him to another student in much more detail and depth than he had told her.
He never forgot that and even developed a sort of boyish fancy for her as the nicest girl he knew. But he outgrew his fancy soon enough, only retaining enough of it to watch her sometimes and to wish her happy. He had easily seen the way she acted with Harry, the added warmth in her eyes when she looked at him, the extra, almost imperceptible note of affection in her voice when she spoke to Harry. He noticed, too, the tension bordering on nervousness when she was around Ron-and Neville suspected it came from apprehension of bickering again. He saw all the times Ron hurt her with some careless, or even deliberate, words and usually felt a flare of anger at Ron on her behalf.
So Neville had never seriously thought about Ron and Hermione.
Today, as Neville watched idly, Ron paused and then, after a quick exchange with Harry and Hermione, headed towards where he saw Luna Lovegood was standing a little apart from a group of Ravenclaw girls.
And then came the proof of what Neville had always suspected.
A gust of wind blew a lock of hair across Hermione’s face and Harry reached out to brush it back, tucking it behind her ear. And the gesture was almost a caress, it was so gentle. But what struck Neville the most wasn’t the clear caring in Harry’s expression or even the tenderness of the touch. It was in how very casually Harry did it, without even a moment’s thought. It was- natural- to Harry to touch Hermione like that now, Neville realized. Harry didn’t even need to think about it. And there was no way that touch, brief as it had been, could have been mistaken as a platonic one.
Harry and Hermione were more than friends now, acknowledged, even if only to themselves, that they were together.
Neville smiled. He’d always known Harry and Hermione were meant to be.
For my very dear sbertie- *hugs hard*
Prompt: H/Hr from Neville's PoV, in Hogsmeade.
What Neville Knew
Neville had always known it would happen.
So he wasn’t surprised when he saw Harry and Hermione together while they walked through Hogsmeade. Ron was with them, of course, but Neville could see that, somehow, Harry and Hermione were a pair, a couple, though they didn’t touch or anything. Ron was somehow slightly separate from them, in spite of the fact that Ron and Harry were doing most of the talking and Ron was laughing. But even without talking, there was still a palpable connection between Harry and Hermione. There always had been, in some odd, indefinable way. And Neville had seen it if no one else had.
It was something about the way they looked at each other, about the way they acted with each other, so comfortably as if the other person was merely an extension of themselves in some way.
Neville knew others had speculated about Ron and Hermione for several years, had pointed out their bickering as evidence of attraction. He’d even had to acknowledge that Ron had appeared to be jealous of Krum-but somehow, he’d always thought Harry and Hermione would end up together.
Because he’d seen the way Hermione’s eyes lit up whenever she saw Harry; he’d seen how she automatically turned to Harry whenever something happened. And he saw the way Harry trusted Hermione, relied on her-in little things and in little ways that all added up to a depth of trust that was almost stunning. Neville doubted Harry himself even realized how much he relied on Hermione but Neville, with the benefit of his position as an outsider to the Trio, could see it and to him, it was that sort of trust that was more significant than any bickering.
Of course, Neville had to admit that he wanted Harry and Hermione to end up together simply because he liked them and it seemed fitting that the two people who’d always been kind to him would end up together. Oh, Neville liked Ron as well, and Ron had never been anything other than friendly but Ron’s had been a casual friendliness that came without thought, the way Ron treated just about everyone who wasn’t in Slytherin, a manifestation of Ron’s rather uncomplicatedly friendly personality. Harry and Hermione had been consciously kind to him. Harry had never laughed at him and Neville remembered little things Harry had done that had helped Neville, saved him from ridicule-and, for all that Neville had always been slightly awed by the very ease with which Harry revealed his courage, without a second thought, Harry had never treated Neville as anything but an equal, a friend.
And Hermione-Hermione, who’d been the first girl, first person, to introduce herself to him on the Hogwarts Express their first year and then volunteer to help him find Trevor. And despite his tendency to be intimidated or awed by her obvious cleverness, Hermione had never made him feel lacking. She usually had encouraging words or a smile for him and Neville remembered very clearly how, after a particularly bad day in Potions, when Snape had been more than usually cruel, Hermione had sought him out afterwards to ask him a question about Herbology, which had made him feel better about himself. It wasn’t often that Hermione, without a doubt the cleverest witch of their year, asked anyone a question. And then later, Neville had discovered by accident that Hermione had manufactured the question purely to encourage him, when he’d overheard her explaining the same thing she’d asked him to another student in much more detail and depth than he had told her.
He never forgot that and even developed a sort of boyish fancy for her as the nicest girl he knew. But he outgrew his fancy soon enough, only retaining enough of it to watch her sometimes and to wish her happy. He had easily seen the way she acted with Harry, the added warmth in her eyes when she looked at him, the extra, almost imperceptible note of affection in her voice when she spoke to Harry. He noticed, too, the tension bordering on nervousness when she was around Ron-and Neville suspected it came from apprehension of bickering again. He saw all the times Ron hurt her with some careless, or even deliberate, words and usually felt a flare of anger at Ron on her behalf.
So Neville had never seriously thought about Ron and Hermione.
Today, as Neville watched idly, Ron paused and then, after a quick exchange with Harry and Hermione, headed towards where he saw Luna Lovegood was standing a little apart from a group of Ravenclaw girls.
And then came the proof of what Neville had always suspected.
A gust of wind blew a lock of hair across Hermione’s face and Harry reached out to brush it back, tucking it behind her ear. And the gesture was almost a caress, it was so gentle. But what struck Neville the most wasn’t the clear caring in Harry’s expression or even the tenderness of the touch. It was in how very casually Harry did it, without even a moment’s thought. It was- natural- to Harry to touch Hermione like that now, Neville realized. Harry didn’t even need to think about it. And there was no way that touch, brief as it had been, could have been mistaken as a platonic one.
Harry and Hermione were more than friends now, acknowledged, even if only to themselves, that they were together.
Neville smiled. He’d always known Harry and Hermione were meant to be.