A Light In The Heart
Written for hp_didi_fest, which had some really amazing fics. If you haven't checked the comm out, you should.
Title: A Light in the Heart
Authors: deirdre_aithne and uniquepov; collectively known as lorca_aithne
Our own prompt: No one survives a war unscathed. Some scars are more visible than others.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Harry/Neville
Summary: Neville Longbottom has resigned himself to a solitary life. Harry Potter is determined to find out why.
Warnings: UST, flangst, and a downright appalling lack of smut
Word Count: ≈7700
Authors' Notes: Title is from a quote by Kahlil Gibran; “Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart.” Special Thanks to talekayler for being an extra pair of eyes for us!
Disclaimer: We solemnly swear that we are up to no good. However, we promise to return everyone, good as new, when we’re done playing with them. We own nothing that you recognize, and we do not profit from any of it.
Harry shifted awkwardly in the formal receiving line. He hated these Ministry functions; the pomp and circumstance completely obscuring the point of remembrances and war memorials. He cast a brief, longing glance at where Luna, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville and some of the others were ensconced in a far corner, hoping it wouldn't be too long before he could escape the formalities and join them.
Neville glanced up at the receiving line across the room over the rim of his glass, picking out Harry just as the other man looked away from the corner he shared with their friends. His gaze lingered for a moment before he lowered his drink and tuned back in to Luna's conversation with the others, reluctantly looking away from Harry.
Harry sighed to himself as he turned back to greet the arriving dignitaries. Although he was considered one himself, he didn't feel like he belonged here, any more than he'd belonged with his aunt and uncle. As soon as he could break away, he made a beeline for the group of friends who made up the only home he'd ever had.
"Hello, Harry," Neville greeted as Harry approached their corner. He flashed a small smile at him and took another sip from his drink.
"Hey, Nev," Harry responded easily, turning to greet the others in turn as he sank into an empty chair a few seats over. "Please tell me someone ordered me a drink...?" he asked pleadingly, of no one in particular.
Neville glanced at the others who all shook their heads. "Here, take mine," he said, offering his mostly full glass to Harry. "You could use it more than I could, I think."
Harry took it and raised it toward Neville with a smile. "Cheers, mate," he said, taking a grateful swallow and then sitting back with a relived sigh. "I hate these blasted parties."
Neville let out a quiet, bitter chuckle. "Don't we all?" He looked around at the room and shook his head.
Luna looked around with bright, dreamy eyes. "I don't know. All the posh clothes are lovely, don't you think? And there'll be dancing later. You and Harry will each dance with me, won't you?"
Harry chuckled and nodded. "Of course I will, Luna," he said fondly.
Neville's eyes flicked briefly to Harry while his attention was on Luna. A small smile pulled at his lips before he looked away. "You know it, Luna."
Luna smiled beatifically at the entire table, before turning to engage Ginny in conversation. Harry's attention wandered as he scanned the function hall, wishing - for the thousandth time - that he could find a more...permanent dance partner.
Neville glanced at Harry again when his attention wandered, looking him over appreciatively for a moment. He briefly contemplated asking Harry if he might want to dance with him later, but shook the idea off.
Harry, turning back to the table once more, caught a glimpse of an odd expression on Neville's face. Turning toward the other man more fully, Harry was surprised to see the usually self-assured man drop his gaze to the table nervously.
Since the final battle, Neville had carried himself with the confidence and poise of the hero he was - and while Harry sometimes missed his shy, awkward schoolmate, he'd certainly come to appreciate the more mature man his friend had grown into. He wondered if it was just the memorial, or something else that was bothering Neville.
"So, Harry..." Neville said somewhat awkwardly, focusing on his hands and wishing he had his drink to hide behind again. "What have you been up to lately?"
Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows against the table as he looked at the other wizard. "Mostly, I've been avoiding the spotlight," he admitted with a chuckle. "You?"
"You know me," Neville said with a hint of a smile, waving one hand dismissively as he looked up at Harry. "Always working with my plants. I suppose I've been avoiding a bit of everything, lately; I've been so wrapped up in them."
Harry smiled. "I envy you that," he said. "Something you can immerse yourself in so completely. The only thing I have like that is flying, and I can't do that without the bloody paparazzi coming after me."
Neville nodded in understanding. "It's a fantastic distraction, but gets rather lonely when I lose track of the time and spend all day in a greenhouse. Not much for conversation, plants."
Luna leaned in to lay a hand over Neville's. "Perhaps you're not listening hard enough," she said gently.
"Maybe," Neville agreed with a soft chuckle. Turning his attention back to Harry, he added, "It's a shame you can't even go flying without being hounded, though."
Harry watched Neville's expression as he turned to Luna, an amused sparkle in his eyes and the light falling across his jaw. He caught his breath at the sudden jolt of arousal that flashed through him. He gave himself a mental shake as Neville turned back to him. He's not even gay, Harry, he told himself firmly. Get a bloody grip. Harry forced himself to focus on what the other man had just said, and shrugged. "They'll get bored eventually, I expect," he sighed. "Until then, I'm pretty much grounded, though."
"Maybe it's a good opportunity to explore other hobbies, then," Neville suggested. "At least until they start leaving you alone."
"Maybe," Harry agreed, hoping to keep the conversation going as he shoved his puzzling reaction to Neville aside. Then again, perhaps it wasn't so puzzling. Neville was a fit bloke, easy on the eyes, one of his oldest friends, and one of the kindest, bravest souls he'd ever known. Why shouldn't I find him attractive? he mentally argued. He, at least, sees Harry, and not the Man Who Conquered.
Neville smiled encouragingly at Harry. "Come on, there've got to be loads of things you like to do other than fly. You're always welcome to drop by the greenhouses, if you need some peace and quiet," he offered without thinking. A faint blush crept into his cheeks as he realized what he'd said and he added quickly, "I mean, if you wanted to. It can be rather boring, though. Just... an idea."
Harry's heart skipped an unexpected beat at the invitation, but he ruthlessly quashed the sudden fluttering feeling, reminding himself again that Neville was a friend, and not interested in him that way. Outwardly, he smiled. "I just might do that," he said softly. "I just might."
Neville's flush deepened. "Well, you're welcome any time, really." Lowering his eyes to the table again, Neville fidgeted anxiously.
Harry's heart skipped a beat as he noticed Neville's blush, and a giddy thought raced through his head - Could Neville really be flirting with me? He gave the other man a long, considering glance and watched his blush deepen further. Deciding to test his theory, he gave Neville what he hoped was a clear once-over and an approving smile. "It's a date, then."
Neville's head snapped up at Harry's words, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but cut himself off and swallowed nervously. "R-right," he managed after a moment. "I... I think I need some air, though, excuse me." Neville pushed his seat back from the table as his cheeks flamed. He bit down on his lip to stop himself from rambling before slipping away from the table.
Harry's shoulders slumped as Neville all but ran out the door. He gave a quick, guilty glance around the table. Everyone appeared to be engrossed in their own conversations except for Luna, who was studying him with an odd intensity, her head cocked to one side and giving her a strangely bird-like appearance. He got up and slipped into the seat next to her, which Neville had just vacated. "Did I completely bollocks that up, Luna?" he asked, sotto voce. "I thought he was flirting with me."
Luna leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. Harry looked at her in surprise, and she smiled. “He’s your friend. You’ll work it out,” she said softly.
Harry slumped backward in his seat. “How, exactly, does that conversation work? ‘No, really, Nev - there’s no need to feel uncomfortable about the fact that I just propositioned you,’ seems a bit… inadequate.” He passed a hand over his eyes. “What on earth made me think that he was flirting with me?”
“Perhaps it was because you’re both gay,” Luna pointed out matter-of-factly.
Harry goggled at her. “Excuse me?” he breathed, not quite daring to believe he’d heard correctly.
“I think it’s only natural to assume, under the circumstances, that he’d be interested in you, as well,” Luna continued. “But Neville doesn’t date, you know.”
Harry realised, as he considered Luna’s words, that he had never once seen Neville with a partner of any variety or gender. “Why not?” he asked her quietly.
“It’s not really my place to tell you that, Harry. It’s for him, if he chooses to.”
Harry frowned, but then leaned in to envelop her in a brief hug. “Thanks, Luna,” he said. “I think… I’d best go and find Neville.” With that, he stood and made his way toward the doors Neville had escaped out of.
***
After a few moments’ search, Harry found Neville on a relatively deserted balcony, leaning over the railing and staring off into the distance. He cleared his throat awkwardly as he approached the other man.
“Hey,” he said hesitantly.
Neville turned away from the balcony railing and smiled nervously at Harry. "Hey..."
Harry's heart sank at Neville's obvious discomfort, and he stopped a few feet from the other man, casting a privacy charm as he did. "Nev, listen - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
Neville sighed and shook his head. "Don't apologize, Harry, please. It's not like that...."
Harry lifted his shoulders helplessly. "I thought you were flirting with me, and that seemed impossible. I thought I'd see if I was right..." He trailed off, then continued awkwardly, "Luna told me that you're gay..."
"I didn't leave because you were wrong," Neville murmured, turning away from Harry to lean against the railing again. "She's right, you know. About me..."
Harry joined Neville at the railing, careful to keep a slight distance between them, since he still wasn't sure he hadn't completely cocked up their friendship. "Why... why didn't you tell me?" he asked, unable to completely conceal the plaintive note in his voice.
Neville shrugged. "It's never really come up, I guess." He cast a sideways glance at Harry, relying on the darkness to hide the longing in his gaze if Harry caught him at it. "I don't exactly date, so I just don't talk about it much."
Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. Luna had said something similar, at the table. "Why don't you?" he finally asked. "Date, I mean."
"It's better if I don't," Neville answered, looking out over the balcony again. "It's not you, Harry. Believe me, it isn't."
Watching Neville out of the corner of his eye, Harry couldn't figure out if the other man was just incredibly uncomfortable around him now, or actually ...possibly... attracted to him, as well. He took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "Look... you're one of my oldest friends, and believe me, I don't want to lose that. But I… I saw you in a new light, tonight, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to you. If I said I wasn't hoping you might feel the same."
Neville was silent for a moment before letting out a quiet breath, bringing one hand up to thread through his hair. "I do, Harry. It's just... doing anything... wouldn't be a good idea."
Harry frowned. "Nev, I - I wasn't just suggesting a one-off in the greenhouses, you know. We could ...take things slow?"
"It's not that easy," Neville sighed. "I really just can't date. Not you, not anyone. Trust me, it's not a good idea."
Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand. What do you mean, not anyone?"
"Have you seen me with anyone since the war?" Neville asked, looking away from Harry and shaking his head. "It's nothing against you, Harry. But I don't date at all. It's too... complicated."
Harry stepped closer to Neville, reaching a hand tentatively toward the other man. "Neville, I-"
Neville looked from Harry's hand reaching for him back to his face and smiled sadly. "We're great friends, Harry. I don't want to mess that up...."
Harry hesitated, but then continued the gesture and laid his hand on Neville's arm gently. "We won't mess it up. I'll understand if you don't want to try, but... please... talk to me?"
"I'd like to- I really would. But I know that it won't end well," Neville carefully stepped away from Harry, his expression turning miserable. "I'm not right for you."
"Nev, please," Harry let his hands fall helplessly to his side. "First and foremost, I'm your friend. Please talk to me."
Neville shook his head. "I'm sorry, Harry... it isn't something I'm good at talking about, though."
Harry gave him a long, considering look before closing the distance between them again, taking hold of his hand firmly. "I don't understand... what ... ?"
Neville's breath hitched slightly as Harry moved closer. "It's just... complicated," he answered dully, barely stopping himself from squeezing Harry's hand by pulling his own hand free of Harry’s grasp. "Please, just let it be."
"Neville, no." Harry's voice was firm. "You're obviously hurting. How can I let that be?"
“I'd hurt worse if you walked away from me," Neville muttered without meaning to. His cheeks flushed as he realized what he'd said and he quickly stepped away from Harry. "I-I'm sorry, Harry. I should... go."
Harry stared in surprise at Neville's admission. "How could you think that I would ever...?”
"I just know," Neville answered quietly. "There's a good reason I don't get involved with people," he said, looking Harry over sadly before shaking his head and adding, "Even when I really want to."
Harry shook his head. "Honestly, whatever it is... I would never... I will always be here for you... no matter what."
Neville considered Harry closely for a moment and sighed. "I'm sorry, Harry. I just can't talk about it right now, all right?"
Harry nodded slowly. "I... of course."
"I really am sorry," Neville said, giving Harry one last sad smile before quickly retreating from the balcony.
Harry didn't know how long he stayed there, alone on the balcony, staring after Neville, his heart breaking for the pain his friend was clearly in. Setting his jaw determinedly, Harry Disapparated home with a loud crack.
***
Neville looked up as his wards around the greenhouse signalled the arrival of someone. Wiping a bit of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, he spotted Harry on the other side of the glass, walking toward the greenhouse and smiled. He jumped to his feet and quickly snatched up his shirt from where he'd laid it while he worked, tugging it on before Harry could see him. "Hello, Harry," he greeted once he opened the door, smiling broadly at Harry.
"Hi, Neville," Harry replied, with only the barest hint of hesitation. "May I... come in?"
"Of course," Neville said, holding the door open and ushering Harry inside.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief that Neville didn't appear to be harbouring any bad feelings after their conversation on the balcony at the Ministry function. "I thought I'd take you up on your offer."
"Brilliant," Neville said enthusiastically. "I'm sort of in the middle of tilling the soil in that box over there; you could help if you wanted." Neville pointed to the spot he'd been working before Harry arrived, where the dirt had been half turned over already. "But you're more than welcome to just wander about and enjoy the peace of it in here, if you want. Just mind some of the plants in that back corner, they can be a little... territorial."
Harry quirked a smile at him. "Territorial?"
Neville smiled back and shrugged. "It sounds better than 'blood-thirsty and psychotic'?"
Harry chuckled. "Interesting hobby you have here," he teased. He looked over at the bed of soil he’d indicated, then back at Neville. "Maybe I'll just take a quick look around?"
"It works for me," Neville said with a grin. "Make yourself comfortable, though," he added, gesturing for Harry to look around as he pleased.
Harry nodded, poking around the greenhouse a bit, giving the back corner a wide berth - the memory of the Devil's Snare from first-year still sometimes gave him the chills - but he snuck glances at Neville as often as he dared. The other man was soon engrossed in his work, and Harry leaned back against a workbench to simply watch him, enjoying the sight of his broad shoulders moving beneath the form-fitting polo shirt he was wearing.
Neville paused in his work after several minutes to wipe his brow again, self-consciously checking that his shirt had not ridden up in the back while he was working. He glanced around for Harry a moment later and blushed when he realised Harry was watching him.
"Don't mind me," Harry said, with what he hoped was a flirty smile. "Please, carry on."
Neville's blush deepened and he looked uncertainly down at the dirt before shaking his head and straightening, dusting his hands off on his trousers. "I... I'm finished with it for now." He answered Harry's smile with a nervous one of his own. "I think I've earned a break, at least."
Harry took a chance, crossing his arms and giving Neville a very clear once-over, followed by a look that would leave no doubt in Neville's mind that he liked what he saw. "I'd say so."
Neville's cheeks flamed as he glanced down at his feet. "So... erm... how do you like it in here?" he asked.
"I like it," Harry said softly. "The atmosphere ...and the company."
"Yeah, it's nice," Neville agreed, sneaking a quick glance at Harry's body before focussing on his face.
"It's ... a little hot, perhaps," Harry quirked one corner of his mouth up in a sexy grin.
"I could get you a drink?" Neville suggested uncertainly, his voice hitching up slightly in his nervous state. "If that would help... cool you off..." Neville groaned under his breath at his awkwardness.
Harry captured Neville's gaze, holding it as he licked his lips suggestively. "Thanks, Nev, but... that really wasn't what I meant," he said candidly.
Neville's eyes darted to Harry's lips as he swallowed thickly. "What... What did you mean then?" he asked, shifting awkwardly.
Harry pushed off from the workbench and stalked toward Neville, circling him slowly before reaching out to take one hand in his own. "Do I really have to spell it out for you?"
"Harry..." Neville looked down at their joined hands, but couldn't bring himself to pull away.
"Neville," Harry's voice was soft, almost pleading. "Don't run away from me again."
"We can't do this, though..." Neville squeezed Harry's hand. "It isn't going to end well, if we get involved."
"How do you know that?" Harry challenged, stepping in close enough to bring his fingertips up to caress Neville's cheek lightly. "You're one of my oldest friends. Why are you so sure I'll hurt you?"
Neville leaned into Harry's touch despite himself. "You might not mean to, but eventually, you would have to walk away. I don't think I could bear that," he whispered.
"Why are you so sure of that?" Harry asked again, his tone quavering slightly.
"It isn't because of you, Harry," Neville said quickly, reaching up to place his hand over Harry's against his cheek. "I'm just not fit to be with anyone; I know I'm not."
Harry shook his head decisively. "How can you possibly think that about yourself?" he asked roughly. "Any man would be lucky to be with you."
"No, they wouldn't," Neville countered firmly, shaking his head. "I know you mean well, but you don't understand."
“Maybe I don't," Harry conceded. "But I think you're selling yourself short, Nev. You're a decorated war hero, You're a true Gryffindor; smart, funny, kind, generous, trustworthy, loyal, brave...." Harry leaned in to press a soft kiss to Neville's lips. Pulling back, he finished with a smirk, "And you're not at all hard on the eyes, either."
"Not at the moment," Neville muttered, stepping back from Harry and shaking his head miserably.
Confusion and concern warred on Harry's face. "Neville?"
Neville tugged at his shirt self-consciously, pulling it down although there was no need to do so. "When I said there's a reason I don't get involved, Harry, I meant it. No one would want to be with me once they've gotten a good look at all of me. It's better not to bother than to get my hopes up over someone."
Harry reached out and took Neville's hand again. "Nev," he began slowly. "I don't understand, but I want to. Please - I don't know what you think is wrong with you, but whatever it is, it won't matter to me."
“You say that now, but you don't know," Neville sighed and reluctantly pulled his hand away. "You haven't seen-" He cut himself off quickly and turned away, carding his fingers through his hair as he took a steadying breath.
"Seen what?" Harry's voice broke as he watched Neville turn away from him.
Neville hesitated for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at Harry before making his decision and grasping the hem of his shirt. He tugged it off quickly, revealing the myriad of scars marking nearly every inch of his back. Folding his arms protectively over his chest, Neville drew in a shaky breath to try and stop himself from trembling. "Do you still think I'm not hard on the eyes?" he asked in a whisper.
Harry blinked back the sudden moisture in his eyes, but couldn't completely smother his gasped, "Bloody hell..."
Tightening his arms over his chest, Neville turned to face Harry again, offering him a view of the scars that crossed his abdomen. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before lowering his arms to his side, revealing the word 'traitor' carved across his chest. Forcing himself to open his eyes, Neville held his breath as he waited for some reaction.
Harry stared, open-mouthed, at Neville, unable to tear his eyes away from the unexpected, horrible sight.
Neville clenched his hands as Harry continued to only stare at him. He sunk his teeth sharply into his lower lip to bite back the sigh of disappointment as he turned away, snatching up his shirt again and tugging it quickly on over his head as he darted from the greenhouse.
Harry recovered his senses as Neville moved, but not before the other man was already out the door. Harry felt his heart sinking into his stomach as he took off after him, calling his name as he ran.
***
“Neville!”
Neville squared his shoulders as he walked, slowing his pace slightly although he refused to stop or turn around.
Harry caught up with Neville as he neared the house, reaching out to grab his arm to stop the other man's momentum. "Nev, wait. Please..."
"Why?" Neville bowed his head and shrugged off Harry's hand. "I know how it all looks, Harry, and I don't need you to be gentle about it." Glancing over his shoulder at Harry, Neville looked at him sadly. "You've changed your mind, we don't need to drag this out more."
Harry circled around Neville and blocked his path, looking up at the taller man in stubborn defiance. "Who says I've changed my mind?"
"Don't," Neville said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder and pushing him gently to the side. "I don't need you to lie to me to try to make a point. Leave it be."
Harry shook his head as he grabbed hold of Neville's hand and refused to let go. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t react as quickly as you wanted me to. You took me by surprise; Merlin's beard, Neville, I wasn't expecting..."
Neville sighed quietly. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I haven't changed my mind."
"You're lying," Neville said incredulously, looking away from Harry to shake his head. "You can't still want me after seeing that."
"I have never lied to you, Neville," Harry said softly. "I'm not about to start now."
Neville looked Harry's expression over for a moment before sighing again. "I don't know if I can believe that, Harry. But since it's obvious you won't be letting this go yet, would you like to come in? I could use a drink..."
Harry let out a long breath, relieved that Neville wasn't tossing him out on his ear just yet. "Yeah, me too."
Nodding, Neville stepped around Harry toward the house. He gestured Harry inside once the door was open, stepping in after him to stand in the modest kitchen. "You can make yourself at home in the sitting room if you want, I'll get the drinks." Neville gestured at sitting room through an arched doorway to the right. "Is Firewhisky all right?"
Harry nodded, moving toward the sitting room. He turned as he reached the archway and hovered just inside the doorway, watching Neville uncertainly.
Neville turned toward the cupboards after Harry nodded, his back turned to the other man as he assumed he left the room. Retrieving two tumblers from one, he opened another and reached up to pull down an unopened bottle of Ogden's from the top shelf. He nudged the cupboard door closed and looked down at the bottle in his hands hesitantly, warring with himself whether inviting Harry in had been a good idea. Finally nodding to himself, he plucked up the glasses from where he'd placed them on the counter and turned to make his way into the sitting room, blushing sheepishly when he noticed Harry was still hovering in the doorway.
Harry ducked his head at being caught staring again, a blush colouring his cheeks. "Sorry, I - I just wanted to be sure you didn't run again."
"You already caught me once, I doubt I'd make it far if I did," Neville joked in an effort to lighten the mood. Groaning to himself, he shook his head and offered one of the glasses to Harry as he stepped closer. "I'm sorry, this is just...." He waved his hand helplessly. "Awkward."
"Yeah," Harry agreed as he took the proffered glass. "C'mon, let's sit down, all right?" He indicated the sitting room behind him.
Neville nodded and moved into the sitting room, throwing himself at one end of the sofa and gesturing for Harry to make himself comfortable.
Harry settled himself at the opposite end of the sofa, careful to leave space between them, to avoid further agitating Neville. Once seated, though, he found himself searching for a way to open the conversation.
Neville glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye, giving him a quick once-over before looking down at the bottle of Ogden's still in his hand and his empty tumbler. Pouring himself a bit of the Firewhisky, he offered the bottle to Harry silently, his gaze focussed on the amber liquid as he began to swirl it in his glass.
Harry took the bottle and poured himself a measure of Firewhisky before setting the bottle onto the coffee table in front of them. Clearing his throat, he began awkwardly, "Neville-"
"Hm?" Neville kept his eyes trained on his glass rather than look at Harry, self-consciously tugging at his shirt.
Harry took a sip of his drink, hoping for a bit of liquid courage. "Do you - do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really," Neville answered, taking a sip of his own drink and sighing. "I wouldn't really know what to say about it, to be honest."
"Who - I mean, how did it happen?"
Neville's hand tightened briefly around his glass, and he leaned forward to place it on the coffee table. Sitting back against the sofa, he continued to stare at the glass as he answered, his voice taking on a monotone quality. "It was during seventh year. When the Cruciatus wasn't enough to keep me 'in line', the Carrows got frustrated, and this-" Neville gestured vaguely at his torso, and realised his hand was trembling. "This was their solution."
Harry swallowed hard, setting his own glass down and reaching out to capture one of Neville's hands. "Merlin, Nev... I never knew... "
Neville's attention shifted to Harry's hand on his and he took a steadying breath. "No one did..."
"Why didn't Poppy heal you?" Harry asked softly, reaching toward Neville's chest almost unconsciously with his free hand.
Neville tensed instinctively when he noticed Harry reaching for his chest, but he didn't move away. "I wouldn't go to her. I didn't want to drag anyone else into my problem."
"Oh, Neville..." Harry's heart broke at the thought of 17-year-old Neville, alone, afraid, and terribly hurt... finally taking refuge in the Room of Requirement and healing himself as best he could. His fingertips traced light, soothing circles on Neville's chest. "You... you shouldn't have had to go through that alone..."
"It would have been worse to watch someone else get the same for standing up for me," Neville muttered, relaxing slightly under Harry's touch. "I knew what I was getting into."
"Still... I wish you'd had someone to help you," Harry whispered. "I wish I could have helped you."
"Don't," Neville said firmly. He nudged Harry's hand away from his chest and reached for his drink, tossing back the entire contents of the glass before setting it back on the table with a loud thud.
Harry frowned as Neville pushed him away, though he didn’t let go of his hand. As the other man drained his glass, he scooted closer to Neville on the sofa.
Neville flopped back against the back of the sofa and glanced at Harry, swallowing nervously when he realised how much closer they were. "Sorry..." he said awkwardly.
Harry shook his head, squeezing Neville's hand lightly. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't mean to ... make you uncomfortable. Again."
"I'm not uncomfortable," Neville sighed, looking down at their clasped hands again. "I just... don't want you to feel sorry for me."
"I'm sorry that you had to go through that by yourself," Harry said softly. "It's not the same thing."
Neville nodded stiffly after a moment, returning his gaze to Harry's face. "You're right..."
"The war scarred us all, Nev," Harry continued, in the same soft voice. "Some... more noticeably than others."
"No one could accept scars like this, though." Neville pulled his hand away from Harry's and stood, threading his fingers through his hair as he crossed to the window. "I don't want someone to look at me and just see the war all over again."
Harry scowled down at his lap as he nodded. "I can understand that."
Hearing an odd note in Harry's tone, Neville looked over his shoulder at him and frowned. "I'm an arse," he muttered under his breath. "Harry..."
Harry shook his head, staring down at his hands. "It's fine, Neville. I understand, yeah? Some of it."
Moving back toward the sofa, Neville sat beside Harry and reached for his hand uncertainly. "I'm sorry. I know I'm not the only one who worries about that."
Harry squeezed Neville's hand and nodded.
"There are people who see you, though, Harry. I know there are... You don't have to worry."
"There are people who see you, too, Nev. I see you..."
Neville squeezed Harry's hand lightly and offered him a shaky smile. "I want to believe that..."
"It's true," Harry said, leaning in toward Neville earnestly. "I told you before that I'd never lied to you."
"I know, Harry, but it's hard for me to believe that anyone could see past the scars." Neville looked away from Harry and ducked his head.
Harry reached out to cup Neville's chin, turning his face to look at him as he let go Neville's hand and brought his own up to push the fringe off his forehead, where the famous scar could still be seen prominently. "Can you?"
"Of course I can," Neville answered, reaching up to move Harry's hand away from his hair. "But that's... different."
Harry shook his head, though he allowed Neville to take his hand again. "Same principle."
"It's not, though." Neville lowered his gaze to their hands as he absently rubbed his thumb across the back of Harry's hand. "I've seen myself in the mirror, Harry, I know how this looks. Do you really think anyone would want to see that every time we were together?" He raised his eyes to Harry's with a pained expression. "Would you?"
Harry met Neville's gaze squarely. "I wouldn't want to see it; no. But not for the reason you think."
"Why then?"
“Because I hate what was done to you. Because I hate everything you had to go through..."
"And you'd have to be reminded of it every time you saw me." Neville released Harry's hand and shifted away from him toward the end of the sofa. "You can't expect me to just believe you or anyone else would still want to be with me like that."
"Neville - answer me something. Are you reminded of everything that's happened when you see my scar? Do you even still see it, when you look at me?"
Neville blinked at Harry in surprise for a moment before shaking his head. "Of course not."
Harry gave a bitter chuckle as he smiled back at Neville. "Same principle," he repeated softly.
"It's still hard for me to believe, Harry. I've spent too much time convincing myself being with anyone was impossible. I don't know how to just let that go..."
Harry nodded. "I can understand that."
Neville gave Harry a small, wavering smile and looked away. "You really haven't changed your mind?" he asked quietly.
Harry shook his head. "Really haven't."
Neville looked Harry over uncertainly, wringing his hands in his lap. "I don't know if I can do this," he said softly, his gaze returning to his hands. "But... I can try..."
Harry gave Neville a small smile as he leaned in to press their lips together. "Then let's try," he whispered.
Neville tensed instinctively when Harry leaned in and clenched his hands in his lap.
"Relax," Harry breathed, tilting his head to trail a line of kisses along Neville's jaw.
"Trying," Neville said softly. He pressed his eyes closed and took a slow breath to steady his nerves, tilting his head slightly to one side without realising, as some of his tension eased.
Harry scooted closer, his knee bumping Neville's, as he nuzzled the other man's neck.
Neville stiffened and shifted a bit away from Harry with a nervous expression.
Harry laid a gentle hand on Neville's thigh as he tilted his head up to trail kisses along his jawline.
Turning his face away from Harry and ducking his head, Neville eyed the hand on his thigh tensely. "Harry..."
Harry sat back, leaving his hand where it was for the moment, looking at Neville quizzically.
"I can't..." Neville broke off and continued eyeing Harry's hand anxiously as he took a deep breath to calm himself. "I don't know what to do," he said softly.
Harry let out a quiet gasp as he realised Neville's meaning. "You said you don't date. I didn't realise... I mean... really?"
Neville's cheeks flamed as he looked away from Harry. Clenching his hands tightly in his lap, he gave a stiff nod in answer.
Harry squeezed Neville's thigh reassuringly and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "We can go as slow as you need to," he whispered.
"Thank you, but..." Neville shot Harry a hesitant glance. "Harry, I really don't know how to do this... You shouldn't have to deal with me not knowing how to react to you. It isn't fair..."
Harry chuckled and ducked his head to hide his smile. "You know, you really need to learn to take 'Yes' for an answer."
Neville's cheeks flushed darker and he moved to stand. "I'm sorry..."
Harry tightened his grip on the other man's leg. "Neville..."
"I don't want to ruin this," Neville muttered, leaning back against the sofa in defeat when Harry's hand tightened on his leg. "But I can't help but worry that I will."
Harry brought his other hand up to brush Neville's hair back from his face. "Shhh," he soothed. "Close your eyes."
Neville shivered slightly at Harry's touch. He hesitated for a moment, looking Harry over questioningly before finally listening and closing his eyes.
Harry carded his fingers lightly through Neville's hair as he murmured, "You can't ruin anything. I promise. We'll go slow. I won't do anything you're not ready for." He leaned in for a brief, chaste kiss. "I promise."
Neville relaxed as Harry's fingers moved through his hair, and did not tense when Harry's lips pressed against his own, although he did not quite respond, either. Peeking his eyes open, he flexed his hands in his laps as though wanting to reach for Harry. "Thank you..."
Harry continued stroking his hair as he nuzzled Neville's cheek, bringing his lips close to his ear as he whispered, "I think you're well worth waiting for."
Surprised by Harry's words, Neville leaned back from him to look into his eyes. One corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile after a moment and he hesitantly reached for Harry's hand. "I'll try not to make you wait too long."
"Good," Harry teased gently, taking hold of his hand and bringing it up to brush the back against his lips.
Neville's breath hitched softly and he resisted the urge to pull his hand away as a blush crept back into his cheeks. Harry hid his smirk behind Neville's hand as he slowly kissed each knuckle, his lips lingering just a breath longer with each kiss. Neville released a shuddering breath as he watched Harry, his hand closing more tightly around Harry's. Harry teased his tongue along the ridge of Neville's tensed knuckles. Shifting in his seat, Neville smiled nervously.
Harry brought their clasped hands down to rest between them as he continued running his other hand soothingly through Neville's hair. Leaning in, he licked across Neville's bottom lip before kissing him deeply. Neville squeezed Harry's hand tightly when their lips met. His own parted somewhat hesitantly beneath Harry's as he loosened his grip on his hand again.
Harry took Neville’s hand and rested it gently, palm down, on his knee, then brought his own hand back to Neville’s thigh and squeezed lightly as he deepened their kiss, delving his tongue into Neville’s mouth. A small tremor rippled through Neville and he leaned into the kiss instinctively.
Harry smiled, losing himself in the feeling of Neville's lips beneath his own for a moment. Almost of its own accord, Neville's hand hesitantly slid a few inches higher on Harry's leg before he noticed and stilled.
Harry pulled back enough to whisper, "It's all right," before he captured Neville's lips in another kiss.
Shifting himself closer to Harry without breaking the kiss, Neville allowed his hand to glide up to Harry's thigh. Harry hummed in approval as he broke the kiss to nuzzle Neville's neck again.
Neville's mouth turned up into a small smile as he shivered. "You're brilliant, you know..."
Harry's lips curved into a smirk against Neville's ear as he whispered, "You haven't seen anything yet."
"I- oh..." Neville stammered and turned his face into Harry's neck to hide the blush that rose in his cheeks. "What... what do you mean?"
Harry grinned and pressed a kiss to the top of Neville's head. "You'll see," he promised. "For now... tell me what you want, Nev. You set the pace, remember?"
Neville blushed darker and straightened, glancing down at his hand on Harry's thigh before focusing on Harry's face again. "I want to keep doing this," he admitted softly. "Anything else, we can just sort of... see what happens?"
Harry flashed him a bright, reassuring smile. "Whatever you want," he told Neville, as he leaned in to kiss him again.
***
Harry lounged in the doorway to the greenhouse, watching Neville working in one of his raised beds. It was hot, with rare afternoon sun beating down through the glass panes of the roof, and Neville's shirt lay discarded on a nearby workbench. Unnoticed by his new lover, Harry stood and admired the physique on display before him. While it was true that Neville's scars disrupted what might have been a nearly-perfect vision, Harry found himself looking past Neville's scars in the same way he'd learned to look past his own, over the years.
Neville, however, was still uncomfortable going bare-chested around Harry, which was why he'd decided to look his fill before alerting the other man to his presence. Although he’d spent time with Neville nearly every day for a fortnight, as their fledgling romance deepened, Neville's self-conscious nerves kept them from going beyond snogging and heavy (clothed) petting.
Harry knew it was because Neville still thought that his scars were going to turn him away, despite his efforts to show him that they truly didn’t matter. Harry was determined to find a way to convince Neville of what he truly believed: that beauty came from a person’s soul, not from their outward appearance. And as far as he was concerned, Neville was beautiful.
Neville paused in his work to wipe the back of his hand across his brow and stretch his arms out over his head to relieve a small ache that had developed just below one shoulder. Turning to reach for one of his tools, he caught sight of something from the corner of his eye and quickly did a double take as he noticed Harry watching him. "Oh... hey, Harry," he said awkwardly, glancing around for his shirt. "I didn't realise you were there."
"Hey," Harry greeted with a smile. "Thought I'd surprise you, but you were so engrossed in your work, I didn't want to interrupt." He crossed to the taller man and leaned up to kiss him. "So I decided to just enjoy the view."
Blushing, Neville returned the kiss before pulling away and offering Harry a small smile to hide his discomfort. "Well, you certainly did surprise me," he said, taking a small step back from Harry toward his workbench.
"What are you working on?" Harry asked, seeing Neville's nervousness and hoping to put him more at ease.
"Just trying to turn the soil, mostly." Neville answered, waving a hand at one of the other beds to draw Harry's attention away from him. "Those need more room, so I'm going to move a few of them over, but they won't grow well if the soil isn't just so." Turning his back toward Harry, he reached for his shirt and began to tug it on over his head.
Harry turned back from the planting bed to see Neville covering up. "Don't," Harry said, more sharply than he intended.
Neville hesitated, his shirt tangled awkwardly around his arms as he twisted to look at Harry over his shoulder. "Don't what?"
"Don't cover up," Harry said, softening his tone as he stepped closer. "Don't be ashamed of who you are."
"It bothers you," Neville countered softly.
"Of course it bothers me," Harry said quietly. "But not in the way you mean."
Neville brought his arms down, holding the shirt protectively over his chest. "How?" he asked in disbelief. "I mean, how can you not... see me differently for it?"
Harry met Neville's gaze seriously. "I do see you differently," he admitted slowly. "I see you as the survivor, and the hero, that you have shown yourself to be." He leaned in to kiss Neville softly, trailing a slow line of kisses down his jaw. "The scars are just the physical proof of how brave you really are."
Neville tensed and took a small step back from Harry. "Don't... Don't keep doing this just because you think the scars make me brave, Harry."
"That isn't the reason, and you know it." Harry continued placing soft kisses on Neville's shoulder, moving up toward his neck.
"Then what?" Neville asked, fisting his hands at his sides to keep himself from reaching for Harry. "Why else would you still want me?"
"Because you're you. I’ve told you before, Nev. What makes you beautiful to me is the light that shines from inside you. That’s what I see first, when I look at you."
Neville blinked down at Harry in surprise. Uncertainly, he placed his hands on Harry's waist and pulled him closer. "You really mean that?"
In response, Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to Neville's.
Neville hesitated a moment before moving his arms to wrap loosely around Harry's waist.
Harry brought one arm up to wrap around Neville's neck as he deepened the kiss, tracing Neville's bottom lip with his tongue. A small tremor rippled through Neville as his lips parted beneath Harry's, who slipped his tongue past Neville's lips with a soft moan.
Neville's arms tightened around Harry's waist, holding him close as they deepened the kiss. Breaking away reluctantly, he released an unsteady breath as he rested his forehead against Harry's. "We should... probably stop..."
"Don't want to," Harry groaned.
"Neither do I," Neville murmured with a small smile. Lowering his head, he nuzzled Harry's neck gently, placing a few feather-light kisses against his jaw. "But I don't think the greenhouse is the best place for... this."
"Maybe not at the moment," Harry agreed breathlessly. "But I can think of a few creative greenhouse activities, for the future..."
Neville chuckled softly, smiling as he looked down into Harry's eyes. "I'm almost afraid to ask."
"I promise you'll enjoy every moment."
"Oh, will I? Well, now I'm curious."
Harry grinned. "That's a good start."
Title: A Light in the Heart
Authors: deirdre_aithne and uniquepov; collectively known as lorca_aithne
Our own prompt: No one survives a war unscathed. Some scars are more visible than others.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Harry/Neville
Summary: Neville Longbottom has resigned himself to a solitary life. Harry Potter is determined to find out why.
Warnings: UST, flangst, and a downright appalling lack of smut
Word Count: ≈7700
Authors' Notes: Title is from a quote by Kahlil Gibran; “Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart.” Special Thanks to talekayler for being an extra pair of eyes for us!
Disclaimer: We solemnly swear that we are up to no good. However, we promise to return everyone, good as new, when we’re done playing with them. We own nothing that you recognize, and we do not profit from any of it.
Harry shifted awkwardly in the formal receiving line. He hated these Ministry functions; the pomp and circumstance completely obscuring the point of remembrances and war memorials. He cast a brief, longing glance at where Luna, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville and some of the others were ensconced in a far corner, hoping it wouldn't be too long before he could escape the formalities and join them.
Neville glanced up at the receiving line across the room over the rim of his glass, picking out Harry just as the other man looked away from the corner he shared with their friends. His gaze lingered for a moment before he lowered his drink and tuned back in to Luna's conversation with the others, reluctantly looking away from Harry.
Harry sighed to himself as he turned back to greet the arriving dignitaries. Although he was considered one himself, he didn't feel like he belonged here, any more than he'd belonged with his aunt and uncle. As soon as he could break away, he made a beeline for the group of friends who made up the only home he'd ever had.
"Hello, Harry," Neville greeted as Harry approached their corner. He flashed a small smile at him and took another sip from his drink.
"Hey, Nev," Harry responded easily, turning to greet the others in turn as he sank into an empty chair a few seats over. "Please tell me someone ordered me a drink...?" he asked pleadingly, of no one in particular.
Neville glanced at the others who all shook their heads. "Here, take mine," he said, offering his mostly full glass to Harry. "You could use it more than I could, I think."
Harry took it and raised it toward Neville with a smile. "Cheers, mate," he said, taking a grateful swallow and then sitting back with a relived sigh. "I hate these blasted parties."
Neville let out a quiet, bitter chuckle. "Don't we all?" He looked around at the room and shook his head.
Luna looked around with bright, dreamy eyes. "I don't know. All the posh clothes are lovely, don't you think? And there'll be dancing later. You and Harry will each dance with me, won't you?"
Harry chuckled and nodded. "Of course I will, Luna," he said fondly.
Neville's eyes flicked briefly to Harry while his attention was on Luna. A small smile pulled at his lips before he looked away. "You know it, Luna."
Luna smiled beatifically at the entire table, before turning to engage Ginny in conversation. Harry's attention wandered as he scanned the function hall, wishing - for the thousandth time - that he could find a more...permanent dance partner.
Neville glanced at Harry again when his attention wandered, looking him over appreciatively for a moment. He briefly contemplated asking Harry if he might want to dance with him later, but shook the idea off.
Harry, turning back to the table once more, caught a glimpse of an odd expression on Neville's face. Turning toward the other man more fully, Harry was surprised to see the usually self-assured man drop his gaze to the table nervously.
Since the final battle, Neville had carried himself with the confidence and poise of the hero he was - and while Harry sometimes missed his shy, awkward schoolmate, he'd certainly come to appreciate the more mature man his friend had grown into. He wondered if it was just the memorial, or something else that was bothering Neville.
"So, Harry..." Neville said somewhat awkwardly, focusing on his hands and wishing he had his drink to hide behind again. "What have you been up to lately?"
Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows against the table as he looked at the other wizard. "Mostly, I've been avoiding the spotlight," he admitted with a chuckle. "You?"
"You know me," Neville said with a hint of a smile, waving one hand dismissively as he looked up at Harry. "Always working with my plants. I suppose I've been avoiding a bit of everything, lately; I've been so wrapped up in them."
Harry smiled. "I envy you that," he said. "Something you can immerse yourself in so completely. The only thing I have like that is flying, and I can't do that without the bloody paparazzi coming after me."
Neville nodded in understanding. "It's a fantastic distraction, but gets rather lonely when I lose track of the time and spend all day in a greenhouse. Not much for conversation, plants."
Luna leaned in to lay a hand over Neville's. "Perhaps you're not listening hard enough," she said gently.
"Maybe," Neville agreed with a soft chuckle. Turning his attention back to Harry, he added, "It's a shame you can't even go flying without being hounded, though."
Harry watched Neville's expression as he turned to Luna, an amused sparkle in his eyes and the light falling across his jaw. He caught his breath at the sudden jolt of arousal that flashed through him. He gave himself a mental shake as Neville turned back to him. He's not even gay, Harry, he told himself firmly. Get a bloody grip. Harry forced himself to focus on what the other man had just said, and shrugged. "They'll get bored eventually, I expect," he sighed. "Until then, I'm pretty much grounded, though."
"Maybe it's a good opportunity to explore other hobbies, then," Neville suggested. "At least until they start leaving you alone."
"Maybe," Harry agreed, hoping to keep the conversation going as he shoved his puzzling reaction to Neville aside. Then again, perhaps it wasn't so puzzling. Neville was a fit bloke, easy on the eyes, one of his oldest friends, and one of the kindest, bravest souls he'd ever known. Why shouldn't I find him attractive? he mentally argued. He, at least, sees Harry, and not the Man Who Conquered.
Neville smiled encouragingly at Harry. "Come on, there've got to be loads of things you like to do other than fly. You're always welcome to drop by the greenhouses, if you need some peace and quiet," he offered without thinking. A faint blush crept into his cheeks as he realized what he'd said and he added quickly, "I mean, if you wanted to. It can be rather boring, though. Just... an idea."
Harry's heart skipped an unexpected beat at the invitation, but he ruthlessly quashed the sudden fluttering feeling, reminding himself again that Neville was a friend, and not interested in him that way. Outwardly, he smiled. "I just might do that," he said softly. "I just might."
Neville's flush deepened. "Well, you're welcome any time, really." Lowering his eyes to the table again, Neville fidgeted anxiously.
Harry's heart skipped a beat as he noticed Neville's blush, and a giddy thought raced through his head - Could Neville really be flirting with me? He gave the other man a long, considering glance and watched his blush deepen further. Deciding to test his theory, he gave Neville what he hoped was a clear once-over and an approving smile. "It's a date, then."
Neville's head snapped up at Harry's words, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but cut himself off and swallowed nervously. "R-right," he managed after a moment. "I... I think I need some air, though, excuse me." Neville pushed his seat back from the table as his cheeks flamed. He bit down on his lip to stop himself from rambling before slipping away from the table.
Harry's shoulders slumped as Neville all but ran out the door. He gave a quick, guilty glance around the table. Everyone appeared to be engrossed in their own conversations except for Luna, who was studying him with an odd intensity, her head cocked to one side and giving her a strangely bird-like appearance. He got up and slipped into the seat next to her, which Neville had just vacated. "Did I completely bollocks that up, Luna?" he asked, sotto voce. "I thought he was flirting with me."
Luna leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. Harry looked at her in surprise, and she smiled. “He’s your friend. You’ll work it out,” she said softly.
Harry slumped backward in his seat. “How, exactly, does that conversation work? ‘No, really, Nev - there’s no need to feel uncomfortable about the fact that I just propositioned you,’ seems a bit… inadequate.” He passed a hand over his eyes. “What on earth made me think that he was flirting with me?”
“Perhaps it was because you’re both gay,” Luna pointed out matter-of-factly.
Harry goggled at her. “Excuse me?” he breathed, not quite daring to believe he’d heard correctly.
“I think it’s only natural to assume, under the circumstances, that he’d be interested in you, as well,” Luna continued. “But Neville doesn’t date, you know.”
Harry realised, as he considered Luna’s words, that he had never once seen Neville with a partner of any variety or gender. “Why not?” he asked her quietly.
“It’s not really my place to tell you that, Harry. It’s for him, if he chooses to.”
Harry frowned, but then leaned in to envelop her in a brief hug. “Thanks, Luna,” he said. “I think… I’d best go and find Neville.” With that, he stood and made his way toward the doors Neville had escaped out of.
***
After a few moments’ search, Harry found Neville on a relatively deserted balcony, leaning over the railing and staring off into the distance. He cleared his throat awkwardly as he approached the other man.
“Hey,” he said hesitantly.
Neville turned away from the balcony railing and smiled nervously at Harry. "Hey..."
Harry's heart sank at Neville's obvious discomfort, and he stopped a few feet from the other man, casting a privacy charm as he did. "Nev, listen - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
Neville sighed and shook his head. "Don't apologize, Harry, please. It's not like that...."
Harry lifted his shoulders helplessly. "I thought you were flirting with me, and that seemed impossible. I thought I'd see if I was right..." He trailed off, then continued awkwardly, "Luna told me that you're gay..."
"I didn't leave because you were wrong," Neville murmured, turning away from Harry to lean against the railing again. "She's right, you know. About me..."
Harry joined Neville at the railing, careful to keep a slight distance between them, since he still wasn't sure he hadn't completely cocked up their friendship. "Why... why didn't you tell me?" he asked, unable to completely conceal the plaintive note in his voice.
Neville shrugged. "It's never really come up, I guess." He cast a sideways glance at Harry, relying on the darkness to hide the longing in his gaze if Harry caught him at it. "I don't exactly date, so I just don't talk about it much."
Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. Luna had said something similar, at the table. "Why don't you?" he finally asked. "Date, I mean."
"It's better if I don't," Neville answered, looking out over the balcony again. "It's not you, Harry. Believe me, it isn't."
Watching Neville out of the corner of his eye, Harry couldn't figure out if the other man was just incredibly uncomfortable around him now, or actually ...possibly... attracted to him, as well. He took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "Look... you're one of my oldest friends, and believe me, I don't want to lose that. But I… I saw you in a new light, tonight, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to you. If I said I wasn't hoping you might feel the same."
Neville was silent for a moment before letting out a quiet breath, bringing one hand up to thread through his hair. "I do, Harry. It's just... doing anything... wouldn't be a good idea."
Harry frowned. "Nev, I - I wasn't just suggesting a one-off in the greenhouses, you know. We could ...take things slow?"
"It's not that easy," Neville sighed. "I really just can't date. Not you, not anyone. Trust me, it's not a good idea."
Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand. What do you mean, not anyone?"
"Have you seen me with anyone since the war?" Neville asked, looking away from Harry and shaking his head. "It's nothing against you, Harry. But I don't date at all. It's too... complicated."
Harry stepped closer to Neville, reaching a hand tentatively toward the other man. "Neville, I-"
Neville looked from Harry's hand reaching for him back to his face and smiled sadly. "We're great friends, Harry. I don't want to mess that up...."
Harry hesitated, but then continued the gesture and laid his hand on Neville's arm gently. "We won't mess it up. I'll understand if you don't want to try, but... please... talk to me?"
"I'd like to- I really would. But I know that it won't end well," Neville carefully stepped away from Harry, his expression turning miserable. "I'm not right for you."
"Nev, please," Harry let his hands fall helplessly to his side. "First and foremost, I'm your friend. Please talk to me."
Neville shook his head. "I'm sorry, Harry... it isn't something I'm good at talking about, though."
Harry gave him a long, considering look before closing the distance between them again, taking hold of his hand firmly. "I don't understand... what ... ?"
Neville's breath hitched slightly as Harry moved closer. "It's just... complicated," he answered dully, barely stopping himself from squeezing Harry's hand by pulling his own hand free of Harry’s grasp. "Please, just let it be."
"Neville, no." Harry's voice was firm. "You're obviously hurting. How can I let that be?"
“I'd hurt worse if you walked away from me," Neville muttered without meaning to. His cheeks flushed as he realized what he'd said and he quickly stepped away from Harry. "I-I'm sorry, Harry. I should... go."
Harry stared in surprise at Neville's admission. "How could you think that I would ever...?”
"I just know," Neville answered quietly. "There's a good reason I don't get involved with people," he said, looking Harry over sadly before shaking his head and adding, "Even when I really want to."
Harry shook his head. "Honestly, whatever it is... I would never... I will always be here for you... no matter what."
Neville considered Harry closely for a moment and sighed. "I'm sorry, Harry. I just can't talk about it right now, all right?"
Harry nodded slowly. "I... of course."
"I really am sorry," Neville said, giving Harry one last sad smile before quickly retreating from the balcony.
Harry didn't know how long he stayed there, alone on the balcony, staring after Neville, his heart breaking for the pain his friend was clearly in. Setting his jaw determinedly, Harry Disapparated home with a loud crack.
***
Neville looked up as his wards around the greenhouse signalled the arrival of someone. Wiping a bit of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, he spotted Harry on the other side of the glass, walking toward the greenhouse and smiled. He jumped to his feet and quickly snatched up his shirt from where he'd laid it while he worked, tugging it on before Harry could see him. "Hello, Harry," he greeted once he opened the door, smiling broadly at Harry.
"Hi, Neville," Harry replied, with only the barest hint of hesitation. "May I... come in?"
"Of course," Neville said, holding the door open and ushering Harry inside.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief that Neville didn't appear to be harbouring any bad feelings after their conversation on the balcony at the Ministry function. "I thought I'd take you up on your offer."
"Brilliant," Neville said enthusiastically. "I'm sort of in the middle of tilling the soil in that box over there; you could help if you wanted." Neville pointed to the spot he'd been working before Harry arrived, where the dirt had been half turned over already. "But you're more than welcome to just wander about and enjoy the peace of it in here, if you want. Just mind some of the plants in that back corner, they can be a little... territorial."
Harry quirked a smile at him. "Territorial?"
Neville smiled back and shrugged. "It sounds better than 'blood-thirsty and psychotic'?"
Harry chuckled. "Interesting hobby you have here," he teased. He looked over at the bed of soil he’d indicated, then back at Neville. "Maybe I'll just take a quick look around?"
"It works for me," Neville said with a grin. "Make yourself comfortable, though," he added, gesturing for Harry to look around as he pleased.
Harry nodded, poking around the greenhouse a bit, giving the back corner a wide berth - the memory of the Devil's Snare from first-year still sometimes gave him the chills - but he snuck glances at Neville as often as he dared. The other man was soon engrossed in his work, and Harry leaned back against a workbench to simply watch him, enjoying the sight of his broad shoulders moving beneath the form-fitting polo shirt he was wearing.
Neville paused in his work after several minutes to wipe his brow again, self-consciously checking that his shirt had not ridden up in the back while he was working. He glanced around for Harry a moment later and blushed when he realised Harry was watching him.
"Don't mind me," Harry said, with what he hoped was a flirty smile. "Please, carry on."
Neville's blush deepened and he looked uncertainly down at the dirt before shaking his head and straightening, dusting his hands off on his trousers. "I... I'm finished with it for now." He answered Harry's smile with a nervous one of his own. "I think I've earned a break, at least."
Harry took a chance, crossing his arms and giving Neville a very clear once-over, followed by a look that would leave no doubt in Neville's mind that he liked what he saw. "I'd say so."
Neville's cheeks flamed as he glanced down at his feet. "So... erm... how do you like it in here?" he asked.
"I like it," Harry said softly. "The atmosphere ...and the company."
"Yeah, it's nice," Neville agreed, sneaking a quick glance at Harry's body before focussing on his face.
"It's ... a little hot, perhaps," Harry quirked one corner of his mouth up in a sexy grin.
"I could get you a drink?" Neville suggested uncertainly, his voice hitching up slightly in his nervous state. "If that would help... cool you off..." Neville groaned under his breath at his awkwardness.
Harry captured Neville's gaze, holding it as he licked his lips suggestively. "Thanks, Nev, but... that really wasn't what I meant," he said candidly.
Neville's eyes darted to Harry's lips as he swallowed thickly. "What... What did you mean then?" he asked, shifting awkwardly.
Harry pushed off from the workbench and stalked toward Neville, circling him slowly before reaching out to take one hand in his own. "Do I really have to spell it out for you?"
"Harry..." Neville looked down at their joined hands, but couldn't bring himself to pull away.
"Neville," Harry's voice was soft, almost pleading. "Don't run away from me again."
"We can't do this, though..." Neville squeezed Harry's hand. "It isn't going to end well, if we get involved."
"How do you know that?" Harry challenged, stepping in close enough to bring his fingertips up to caress Neville's cheek lightly. "You're one of my oldest friends. Why are you so sure I'll hurt you?"
Neville leaned into Harry's touch despite himself. "You might not mean to, but eventually, you would have to walk away. I don't think I could bear that," he whispered.
"Why are you so sure of that?" Harry asked again, his tone quavering slightly.
"It isn't because of you, Harry," Neville said quickly, reaching up to place his hand over Harry's against his cheek. "I'm just not fit to be with anyone; I know I'm not."
Harry shook his head decisively. "How can you possibly think that about yourself?" he asked roughly. "Any man would be lucky to be with you."
"No, they wouldn't," Neville countered firmly, shaking his head. "I know you mean well, but you don't understand."
“Maybe I don't," Harry conceded. "But I think you're selling yourself short, Nev. You're a decorated war hero, You're a true Gryffindor; smart, funny, kind, generous, trustworthy, loyal, brave...." Harry leaned in to press a soft kiss to Neville's lips. Pulling back, he finished with a smirk, "And you're not at all hard on the eyes, either."
"Not at the moment," Neville muttered, stepping back from Harry and shaking his head miserably.
Confusion and concern warred on Harry's face. "Neville?"
Neville tugged at his shirt self-consciously, pulling it down although there was no need to do so. "When I said there's a reason I don't get involved, Harry, I meant it. No one would want to be with me once they've gotten a good look at all of me. It's better not to bother than to get my hopes up over someone."
Harry reached out and took Neville's hand again. "Nev," he began slowly. "I don't understand, but I want to. Please - I don't know what you think is wrong with you, but whatever it is, it won't matter to me."
“You say that now, but you don't know," Neville sighed and reluctantly pulled his hand away. "You haven't seen-" He cut himself off quickly and turned away, carding his fingers through his hair as he took a steadying breath.
"Seen what?" Harry's voice broke as he watched Neville turn away from him.
Neville hesitated for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at Harry before making his decision and grasping the hem of his shirt. He tugged it off quickly, revealing the myriad of scars marking nearly every inch of his back. Folding his arms protectively over his chest, Neville drew in a shaky breath to try and stop himself from trembling. "Do you still think I'm not hard on the eyes?" he asked in a whisper.
Harry blinked back the sudden moisture in his eyes, but couldn't completely smother his gasped, "Bloody hell..."
Tightening his arms over his chest, Neville turned to face Harry again, offering him a view of the scars that crossed his abdomen. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before lowering his arms to his side, revealing the word 'traitor' carved across his chest. Forcing himself to open his eyes, Neville held his breath as he waited for some reaction.
Harry stared, open-mouthed, at Neville, unable to tear his eyes away from the unexpected, horrible sight.
Neville clenched his hands as Harry continued to only stare at him. He sunk his teeth sharply into his lower lip to bite back the sigh of disappointment as he turned away, snatching up his shirt again and tugging it quickly on over his head as he darted from the greenhouse.
Harry recovered his senses as Neville moved, but not before the other man was already out the door. Harry felt his heart sinking into his stomach as he took off after him, calling his name as he ran.
***
“Neville!”
Neville squared his shoulders as he walked, slowing his pace slightly although he refused to stop or turn around.
Harry caught up with Neville as he neared the house, reaching out to grab his arm to stop the other man's momentum. "Nev, wait. Please..."
"Why?" Neville bowed his head and shrugged off Harry's hand. "I know how it all looks, Harry, and I don't need you to be gentle about it." Glancing over his shoulder at Harry, Neville looked at him sadly. "You've changed your mind, we don't need to drag this out more."
Harry circled around Neville and blocked his path, looking up at the taller man in stubborn defiance. "Who says I've changed my mind?"
"Don't," Neville said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder and pushing him gently to the side. "I don't need you to lie to me to try to make a point. Leave it be."
Harry shook his head as he grabbed hold of Neville's hand and refused to let go. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t react as quickly as you wanted me to. You took me by surprise; Merlin's beard, Neville, I wasn't expecting..."
Neville sighed quietly. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I haven't changed my mind."
"You're lying," Neville said incredulously, looking away from Harry to shake his head. "You can't still want me after seeing that."
"I have never lied to you, Neville," Harry said softly. "I'm not about to start now."
Neville looked Harry's expression over for a moment before sighing again. "I don't know if I can believe that, Harry. But since it's obvious you won't be letting this go yet, would you like to come in? I could use a drink..."
Harry let out a long breath, relieved that Neville wasn't tossing him out on his ear just yet. "Yeah, me too."
Nodding, Neville stepped around Harry toward the house. He gestured Harry inside once the door was open, stepping in after him to stand in the modest kitchen. "You can make yourself at home in the sitting room if you want, I'll get the drinks." Neville gestured at sitting room through an arched doorway to the right. "Is Firewhisky all right?"
Harry nodded, moving toward the sitting room. He turned as he reached the archway and hovered just inside the doorway, watching Neville uncertainly.
Neville turned toward the cupboards after Harry nodded, his back turned to the other man as he assumed he left the room. Retrieving two tumblers from one, he opened another and reached up to pull down an unopened bottle of Ogden's from the top shelf. He nudged the cupboard door closed and looked down at the bottle in his hands hesitantly, warring with himself whether inviting Harry in had been a good idea. Finally nodding to himself, he plucked up the glasses from where he'd placed them on the counter and turned to make his way into the sitting room, blushing sheepishly when he noticed Harry was still hovering in the doorway.
Harry ducked his head at being caught staring again, a blush colouring his cheeks. "Sorry, I - I just wanted to be sure you didn't run again."
"You already caught me once, I doubt I'd make it far if I did," Neville joked in an effort to lighten the mood. Groaning to himself, he shook his head and offered one of the glasses to Harry as he stepped closer. "I'm sorry, this is just...." He waved his hand helplessly. "Awkward."
"Yeah," Harry agreed as he took the proffered glass. "C'mon, let's sit down, all right?" He indicated the sitting room behind him.
Neville nodded and moved into the sitting room, throwing himself at one end of the sofa and gesturing for Harry to make himself comfortable.
Harry settled himself at the opposite end of the sofa, careful to leave space between them, to avoid further agitating Neville. Once seated, though, he found himself searching for a way to open the conversation.
Neville glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye, giving him a quick once-over before looking down at the bottle of Ogden's still in his hand and his empty tumbler. Pouring himself a bit of the Firewhisky, he offered the bottle to Harry silently, his gaze focussed on the amber liquid as he began to swirl it in his glass.
Harry took the bottle and poured himself a measure of Firewhisky before setting the bottle onto the coffee table in front of them. Clearing his throat, he began awkwardly, "Neville-"
"Hm?" Neville kept his eyes trained on his glass rather than look at Harry, self-consciously tugging at his shirt.
Harry took a sip of his drink, hoping for a bit of liquid courage. "Do you - do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really," Neville answered, taking a sip of his own drink and sighing. "I wouldn't really know what to say about it, to be honest."
"Who - I mean, how did it happen?"
Neville's hand tightened briefly around his glass, and he leaned forward to place it on the coffee table. Sitting back against the sofa, he continued to stare at the glass as he answered, his voice taking on a monotone quality. "It was during seventh year. When the Cruciatus wasn't enough to keep me 'in line', the Carrows got frustrated, and this-" Neville gestured vaguely at his torso, and realised his hand was trembling. "This was their solution."
Harry swallowed hard, setting his own glass down and reaching out to capture one of Neville's hands. "Merlin, Nev... I never knew... "
Neville's attention shifted to Harry's hand on his and he took a steadying breath. "No one did..."
"Why didn't Poppy heal you?" Harry asked softly, reaching toward Neville's chest almost unconsciously with his free hand.
Neville tensed instinctively when he noticed Harry reaching for his chest, but he didn't move away. "I wouldn't go to her. I didn't want to drag anyone else into my problem."
"Oh, Neville..." Harry's heart broke at the thought of 17-year-old Neville, alone, afraid, and terribly hurt... finally taking refuge in the Room of Requirement and healing himself as best he could. His fingertips traced light, soothing circles on Neville's chest. "You... you shouldn't have had to go through that alone..."
"It would have been worse to watch someone else get the same for standing up for me," Neville muttered, relaxing slightly under Harry's touch. "I knew what I was getting into."
"Still... I wish you'd had someone to help you," Harry whispered. "I wish I could have helped you."
"Don't," Neville said firmly. He nudged Harry's hand away from his chest and reached for his drink, tossing back the entire contents of the glass before setting it back on the table with a loud thud.
Harry frowned as Neville pushed him away, though he didn’t let go of his hand. As the other man drained his glass, he scooted closer to Neville on the sofa.
Neville flopped back against the back of the sofa and glanced at Harry, swallowing nervously when he realised how much closer they were. "Sorry..." he said awkwardly.
Harry shook his head, squeezing Neville's hand lightly. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't mean to ... make you uncomfortable. Again."
"I'm not uncomfortable," Neville sighed, looking down at their clasped hands again. "I just... don't want you to feel sorry for me."
"I'm sorry that you had to go through that by yourself," Harry said softly. "It's not the same thing."
Neville nodded stiffly after a moment, returning his gaze to Harry's face. "You're right..."
"The war scarred us all, Nev," Harry continued, in the same soft voice. "Some... more noticeably than others."
"No one could accept scars like this, though." Neville pulled his hand away from Harry's and stood, threading his fingers through his hair as he crossed to the window. "I don't want someone to look at me and just see the war all over again."
Harry scowled down at his lap as he nodded. "I can understand that."
Hearing an odd note in Harry's tone, Neville looked over his shoulder at him and frowned. "I'm an arse," he muttered under his breath. "Harry..."
Harry shook his head, staring down at his hands. "It's fine, Neville. I understand, yeah? Some of it."
Moving back toward the sofa, Neville sat beside Harry and reached for his hand uncertainly. "I'm sorry. I know I'm not the only one who worries about that."
Harry squeezed Neville's hand and nodded.
"There are people who see you, though, Harry. I know there are... You don't have to worry."
"There are people who see you, too, Nev. I see you..."
Neville squeezed Harry's hand lightly and offered him a shaky smile. "I want to believe that..."
"It's true," Harry said, leaning in toward Neville earnestly. "I told you before that I'd never lied to you."
"I know, Harry, but it's hard for me to believe that anyone could see past the scars." Neville looked away from Harry and ducked his head.
Harry reached out to cup Neville's chin, turning his face to look at him as he let go Neville's hand and brought his own up to push the fringe off his forehead, where the famous scar could still be seen prominently. "Can you?"
"Of course I can," Neville answered, reaching up to move Harry's hand away from his hair. "But that's... different."
Harry shook his head, though he allowed Neville to take his hand again. "Same principle."
"It's not, though." Neville lowered his gaze to their hands as he absently rubbed his thumb across the back of Harry's hand. "I've seen myself in the mirror, Harry, I know how this looks. Do you really think anyone would want to see that every time we were together?" He raised his eyes to Harry's with a pained expression. "Would you?"
Harry met Neville's gaze squarely. "I wouldn't want to see it; no. But not for the reason you think."
"Why then?"
“Because I hate what was done to you. Because I hate everything you had to go through..."
"And you'd have to be reminded of it every time you saw me." Neville released Harry's hand and shifted away from him toward the end of the sofa. "You can't expect me to just believe you or anyone else would still want to be with me like that."
"Neville - answer me something. Are you reminded of everything that's happened when you see my scar? Do you even still see it, when you look at me?"
Neville blinked at Harry in surprise for a moment before shaking his head. "Of course not."
Harry gave a bitter chuckle as he smiled back at Neville. "Same principle," he repeated softly.
"It's still hard for me to believe, Harry. I've spent too much time convincing myself being with anyone was impossible. I don't know how to just let that go..."
Harry nodded. "I can understand that."
Neville gave Harry a small, wavering smile and looked away. "You really haven't changed your mind?" he asked quietly.
Harry shook his head. "Really haven't."
Neville looked Harry over uncertainly, wringing his hands in his lap. "I don't know if I can do this," he said softly, his gaze returning to his hands. "But... I can try..."
Harry gave Neville a small smile as he leaned in to press their lips together. "Then let's try," he whispered.
Neville tensed instinctively when Harry leaned in and clenched his hands in his lap.
"Relax," Harry breathed, tilting his head to trail a line of kisses along Neville's jaw.
"Trying," Neville said softly. He pressed his eyes closed and took a slow breath to steady his nerves, tilting his head slightly to one side without realising, as some of his tension eased.
Harry scooted closer, his knee bumping Neville's, as he nuzzled the other man's neck.
Neville stiffened and shifted a bit away from Harry with a nervous expression.
Harry laid a gentle hand on Neville's thigh as he tilted his head up to trail kisses along his jawline.
Turning his face away from Harry and ducking his head, Neville eyed the hand on his thigh tensely. "Harry..."
Harry sat back, leaving his hand where it was for the moment, looking at Neville quizzically.
"I can't..." Neville broke off and continued eyeing Harry's hand anxiously as he took a deep breath to calm himself. "I don't know what to do," he said softly.
Harry let out a quiet gasp as he realised Neville's meaning. "You said you don't date. I didn't realise... I mean... really?"
Neville's cheeks flamed as he looked away from Harry. Clenching his hands tightly in his lap, he gave a stiff nod in answer.
Harry squeezed Neville's thigh reassuringly and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "We can go as slow as you need to," he whispered.
"Thank you, but..." Neville shot Harry a hesitant glance. "Harry, I really don't know how to do this... You shouldn't have to deal with me not knowing how to react to you. It isn't fair..."
Harry chuckled and ducked his head to hide his smile. "You know, you really need to learn to take 'Yes' for an answer."
Neville's cheeks flushed darker and he moved to stand. "I'm sorry..."
Harry tightened his grip on the other man's leg. "Neville..."
"I don't want to ruin this," Neville muttered, leaning back against the sofa in defeat when Harry's hand tightened on his leg. "But I can't help but worry that I will."
Harry brought his other hand up to brush Neville's hair back from his face. "Shhh," he soothed. "Close your eyes."
Neville shivered slightly at Harry's touch. He hesitated for a moment, looking Harry over questioningly before finally listening and closing his eyes.
Harry carded his fingers lightly through Neville's hair as he murmured, "You can't ruin anything. I promise. We'll go slow. I won't do anything you're not ready for." He leaned in for a brief, chaste kiss. "I promise."
Neville relaxed as Harry's fingers moved through his hair, and did not tense when Harry's lips pressed against his own, although he did not quite respond, either. Peeking his eyes open, he flexed his hands in his laps as though wanting to reach for Harry. "Thank you..."
Harry continued stroking his hair as he nuzzled Neville's cheek, bringing his lips close to his ear as he whispered, "I think you're well worth waiting for."
Surprised by Harry's words, Neville leaned back from him to look into his eyes. One corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile after a moment and he hesitantly reached for Harry's hand. "I'll try not to make you wait too long."
"Good," Harry teased gently, taking hold of his hand and bringing it up to brush the back against his lips.
Neville's breath hitched softly and he resisted the urge to pull his hand away as a blush crept back into his cheeks. Harry hid his smirk behind Neville's hand as he slowly kissed each knuckle, his lips lingering just a breath longer with each kiss. Neville released a shuddering breath as he watched Harry, his hand closing more tightly around Harry's. Harry teased his tongue along the ridge of Neville's tensed knuckles. Shifting in his seat, Neville smiled nervously.
Harry brought their clasped hands down to rest between them as he continued running his other hand soothingly through Neville's hair. Leaning in, he licked across Neville's bottom lip before kissing him deeply. Neville squeezed Harry's hand tightly when their lips met. His own parted somewhat hesitantly beneath Harry's as he loosened his grip on his hand again.
Harry took Neville’s hand and rested it gently, palm down, on his knee, then brought his own hand back to Neville’s thigh and squeezed lightly as he deepened their kiss, delving his tongue into Neville’s mouth. A small tremor rippled through Neville and he leaned into the kiss instinctively.
Harry smiled, losing himself in the feeling of Neville's lips beneath his own for a moment. Almost of its own accord, Neville's hand hesitantly slid a few inches higher on Harry's leg before he noticed and stilled.
Harry pulled back enough to whisper, "It's all right," before he captured Neville's lips in another kiss.
Shifting himself closer to Harry without breaking the kiss, Neville allowed his hand to glide up to Harry's thigh. Harry hummed in approval as he broke the kiss to nuzzle Neville's neck again.
Neville's mouth turned up into a small smile as he shivered. "You're brilliant, you know..."
Harry's lips curved into a smirk against Neville's ear as he whispered, "You haven't seen anything yet."
"I- oh..." Neville stammered and turned his face into Harry's neck to hide the blush that rose in his cheeks. "What... what do you mean?"
Harry grinned and pressed a kiss to the top of Neville's head. "You'll see," he promised. "For now... tell me what you want, Nev. You set the pace, remember?"
Neville blushed darker and straightened, glancing down at his hand on Harry's thigh before focusing on Harry's face again. "I want to keep doing this," he admitted softly. "Anything else, we can just sort of... see what happens?"
Harry flashed him a bright, reassuring smile. "Whatever you want," he told Neville, as he leaned in to kiss him again.
***
Harry lounged in the doorway to the greenhouse, watching Neville working in one of his raised beds. It was hot, with rare afternoon sun beating down through the glass panes of the roof, and Neville's shirt lay discarded on a nearby workbench. Unnoticed by his new lover, Harry stood and admired the physique on display before him. While it was true that Neville's scars disrupted what might have been a nearly-perfect vision, Harry found himself looking past Neville's scars in the same way he'd learned to look past his own, over the years.
Neville, however, was still uncomfortable going bare-chested around Harry, which was why he'd decided to look his fill before alerting the other man to his presence. Although he’d spent time with Neville nearly every day for a fortnight, as their fledgling romance deepened, Neville's self-conscious nerves kept them from going beyond snogging and heavy (clothed) petting.
Harry knew it was because Neville still thought that his scars were going to turn him away, despite his efforts to show him that they truly didn’t matter. Harry was determined to find a way to convince Neville of what he truly believed: that beauty came from a person’s soul, not from their outward appearance. And as far as he was concerned, Neville was beautiful.
Neville paused in his work to wipe the back of his hand across his brow and stretch his arms out over his head to relieve a small ache that had developed just below one shoulder. Turning to reach for one of his tools, he caught sight of something from the corner of his eye and quickly did a double take as he noticed Harry watching him. "Oh... hey, Harry," he said awkwardly, glancing around for his shirt. "I didn't realise you were there."
"Hey," Harry greeted with a smile. "Thought I'd surprise you, but you were so engrossed in your work, I didn't want to interrupt." He crossed to the taller man and leaned up to kiss him. "So I decided to just enjoy the view."
Blushing, Neville returned the kiss before pulling away and offering Harry a small smile to hide his discomfort. "Well, you certainly did surprise me," he said, taking a small step back from Harry toward his workbench.
"What are you working on?" Harry asked, seeing Neville's nervousness and hoping to put him more at ease.
"Just trying to turn the soil, mostly." Neville answered, waving a hand at one of the other beds to draw Harry's attention away from him. "Those need more room, so I'm going to move a few of them over, but they won't grow well if the soil isn't just so." Turning his back toward Harry, he reached for his shirt and began to tug it on over his head.
Harry turned back from the planting bed to see Neville covering up. "Don't," Harry said, more sharply than he intended.
Neville hesitated, his shirt tangled awkwardly around his arms as he twisted to look at Harry over his shoulder. "Don't what?"
"Don't cover up," Harry said, softening his tone as he stepped closer. "Don't be ashamed of who you are."
"It bothers you," Neville countered softly.
"Of course it bothers me," Harry said quietly. "But not in the way you mean."
Neville brought his arms down, holding the shirt protectively over his chest. "How?" he asked in disbelief. "I mean, how can you not... see me differently for it?"
Harry met Neville's gaze seriously. "I do see you differently," he admitted slowly. "I see you as the survivor, and the hero, that you have shown yourself to be." He leaned in to kiss Neville softly, trailing a slow line of kisses down his jaw. "The scars are just the physical proof of how brave you really are."
Neville tensed and took a small step back from Harry. "Don't... Don't keep doing this just because you think the scars make me brave, Harry."
"That isn't the reason, and you know it." Harry continued placing soft kisses on Neville's shoulder, moving up toward his neck.
"Then what?" Neville asked, fisting his hands at his sides to keep himself from reaching for Harry. "Why else would you still want me?"
"Because you're you. I’ve told you before, Nev. What makes you beautiful to me is the light that shines from inside you. That’s what I see first, when I look at you."
Neville blinked down at Harry in surprise. Uncertainly, he placed his hands on Harry's waist and pulled him closer. "You really mean that?"
In response, Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to Neville's.
Neville hesitated a moment before moving his arms to wrap loosely around Harry's waist.
Harry brought one arm up to wrap around Neville's neck as he deepened the kiss, tracing Neville's bottom lip with his tongue. A small tremor rippled through Neville as his lips parted beneath Harry's, who slipped his tongue past Neville's lips with a soft moan.
Neville's arms tightened around Harry's waist, holding him close as they deepened the kiss. Breaking away reluctantly, he released an unsteady breath as he rested his forehead against Harry's. "We should... probably stop..."
"Don't want to," Harry groaned.
"Neither do I," Neville murmured with a small smile. Lowering his head, he nuzzled Harry's neck gently, placing a few feather-light kisses against his jaw. "But I don't think the greenhouse is the best place for... this."
"Maybe not at the moment," Harry agreed breathlessly. "But I can think of a few creative greenhouse activities, for the future..."
Neville chuckled softly, smiling as he looked down into Harry's eyes. "I'm almost afraid to ask."
"I promise you'll enjoy every moment."
"Oh, will I? Well, now I'm curious."
Harry grinned. "That's a good start."