Forgive Me (1/15)
This story is fully complete - some 78,000 words. We have broken it up into 15 installments which will post every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for the next five weeks. This is not the first collaboration that we've posted, but it is the first we wrote! It just takes a lot longer to edit 80k than one might think.
We nicknamed this story 'epic!fic' while we were writing it - as it took only a few weeks to reach the 80k mark - and we have spent a lot of time editing and polishing it. We hope you enjoy it.
Please mind the warnings for triggery bits. We know this won't be everyone's cuppa, but it was something that we were really inspired to write.
Title: Forgive Me
Authors: deirdre_aithne and uniquepov (our collaborations can be found on our joint journal, lorca_aithne)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Harry/Neville, past Harry/other, and a blink-and-you-might-it-mention of Dramione
Summary: Years after the end of the war, Harry and Neville hit it off after a blind date. Harry is afraid to open up, but Neville is determined to explore the spark between them. Can they find happiness together, or will the spectre of Harry's hidden past destroy their fledgling romance?
Content: Slash (with activities as implied by the rating), BDSM, D/s, angst. Bottom!Harry, if you care about that sort of thing.
Warnings: *highlight to view -spoilers*
somewhat graphic descriptions of domestic and sexual abuse and stalking (not in the main pairing)
Word Count: ≈5100 this installment (≈78k complete)
Author's Notes: Thank you to the absolute team of folks who helped to beta and cheerlead for us as we wrote this! khasael, solas_divided, kinky_kneazle, talekayler, and especially catcachoo - every one of you gave us something immeasurably precious. Thank you! We tinkered with it again at the end, so any remaining errors are entirely our fault.
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.
Prologue
“You're still coming to dinner tonight, aren't you, Harry?”
Looking up from the paperwork on his desk, Harry met his friend's brown eyes and had to resist the urge to sigh. Hermione had asked him to dinner for more than a month before he finally agreed. Ever since, she seemed to be under the impression that he would forget entirely if she didn't remind him at least once every few days. The frequency of her check-ins had only increased as the date got closer, and her apparent anxiety had resulted in her sending an enchanted memo first thing this morning, and now popping into his office personally.
“Yes, Hermione, I am,” he answered, returning his gaze to the Ministry memo that still required his attention. It wasn't that he disliked joining Hermione and her fiancé for dinner. In truth, he and Draco were rather friendly, now that the war was over, and their nasty past was well behind them. His issue with Hermione’s invitations was that they often came with one rather annoying string attached.
"Wonderful!” Nearly sprinting the few steps between the doorway and Harry's desk, Hermione placed a quick kiss against his forehead and smiled brightly. “Now, don't forget to dress nicely for your date!” She retreated back into the main corridor before she could notice Harry rolling his eyes.
Once the door had closed behind her, he let out a resigned sigh as he attempted to focus on the memo once again. Ever since her engagement to Draco, Hermione had taken it upon herself to be Harry's own personal match maker.
Entirely without his consent...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Harry arrived in the foyer of Malfoy Manor through the Floo at just past seven that evening, dusting the traces of soot from his trousers. As much as he disliked Hermione meddling so constantly in his love life- or lack thereof- he still held out hope, in the back of his mind, that she might actually set him up with someone promising someday. With that in mind, he had worn a pair of Muggle trousers with the emerald green sweater Hermione had given him for Christmas the year before, aiming for a more casual appearance rather than more formal robes.
“Hey, Harry.”
Snapping his eyes away from his trouser legs, Harry looked up and met Neville's friendly smile with an expression of surprise. The other wizard looked much the same as Harry remembered him, although he had an air of confidence about him that had been lacking in the early years of their school days. He was dressed in a pair of dark trousers and a maroon coloured polo shirt. It suited him well, and Harry was finding himself hard pressed to focus on Neville's face, rather than the hints of muscle through the fabric of his shirt.
“You know,” Draco drawled, appearing in the doorway of the foyer with Hermione beside him, “I likely shouldn't find this as amusing as I do.”
Hermione swatted the blond sharply on the arm, shooting him a quick, halfhearted glare before looking at Harry sweetly.
“Harry, you're... staring.”
“Oh, don't stop him,” Neville interrupted, an amused smile quirking up the corners of his mouth as he watched Harry quickly snap himself out of his shock. “Honestly, it was a little flattering.”
Studiously ignoring the slight blush rising in his cheeks, Harry looked towards Hermione with a pleading expression, silently asking her to save him from making a bigger fool of himself. Instead, the witch suppressed a giggle and waved both Harry and Neville along behind her as she took Draco's arm.
“Dinner is served, boys, if you're ready to eat.”
The four of them sat at the rather large dining table with Harry and Neville on one side and Hermione and Draco seated directly across from them. Conversation lulled slightly while they ate, but Harry's previous embarrassment was slowly forgotten in the midst of good food and comfortable conversation. With his surprise over Neville's presence as his blind date now gone, Harry seized the opportunity to observe the other man, sneaking glances at him from the corner of his eye.
All traces of the awkward boy from their early years at Hogwarts were gone, replaced by a much more confident personality. He was still very much Neville, with the same sense of humor that he'd always had. The only real difference, Harry noticed, was the comfortable way that Neville carried himself now. There was something very controlled in his demeanor and, when the other man caught Harry's eye briefly and smiled, a small shiver rippled through him.
For once, he had no reason to complain about Hermione's meddling.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 1
Neville idly turned his cup of coffee on the table in front of him, watching the entrance of the restaurant anxiously. He'd arrived early enough to secure a table near the door before Harry was due to arrive, as much to allow himself time to calm his nerves as to ensure they wouldn't be stuck waiting to be seated. Glancing down briefly to smooth an imagined wrinkle in his shirt, he looked back up towards the door, thinking he'd spotted a glimpse of Harry through the window.
Harry paused at the entrance of the restaurant to catch his breath. He'd paced the hallway of Grimmauld Place for the better part of twenty minutes, waffling about whether to cancel his date. He liked Neville, but he wasn't sure that he was ready to date again, or that he wanted to risk losing another friend. In the end, he'd decided to attend, but had had to run to avoid being late.
“Harry!” Neville greeted him with a broad grin, waving the other man over as he entered the restaurant. “Are you all right?” he asked after a cursory glance at Harry, arching one eyebrow curiously. “You're looking a bit winded.”
"Sorry..." Harry replied sheepishly as he crossed over to the table and clasped hands with Neville. "I was trying not to be late."
Neville nudged the mug of coffee he'd bought for Harry closer to him with a chuckle. “I appreciate the thought, but I would have waited, you know.” He flashed Harry a teasing smile before taking a sip from his own cup. “I'm just glad you came.”
Harry grinned, ducking his head as he grabbed the proffered cup, adding sugar and a splash of milk before taking a large sip. "So, uh... how've you been?" he asked.
“Can't really complain,” Neville answered with a small shrug. “I've been busy with research mostly, as unexciting as that is. What about you?”
Harry fiddled with his napkin. "Oh, you know. Auror stuff is a lot less glamourous than you might think," he replied with a shy smile.
Neville watched Harry's fidgeting in amusement. “I imagine that's a good thing for you, though, isn't it? I mean, you never seemed happy with all of the attention that was thrown on you at school.”
"I'm not much one for the limelight," Harry agreed with a nod. "Never have been. I'm glad the Daily Prophet seems to have gotten bored of reporting on my life."
“Took them long enough to get the message to bugger off, though, didn't it?” Neville shook his head, recalling his own brief experiences with the Daily Prophet reporters immediately after the war. “What about outside of work? Surely you do something for fun these days?” he asked, leaning forwards and folding his arms on the table.
Harry frowned. "Oh... I've become a bit of a homebody these last few months. Spending some time alone, sorting things out. Reading. Practicing my flying...”
“You sound like me,” Neville chuckled. “Just about all I do at night is sit around and read; as though I don't get enough of that with work.”
Harry smiled. "Tell me about your work. You were always fascinated with Herbology; I remember that even from first-year."
“You mean it was the only thing I was good at,” Neville said with playful grin. “Lately, I've been looking for alternate methods of handling some of the more dangerous plants. What little of a green thumb I have hasn't deemed me worthy of successfully breeding anything new, yet.”
Harry leaned forwards, jostling the table as he said quietly, "You were good at plenty, Nev. You took care of a lot of students that last year."
“That’s... different,” Neville murmured, looking down at his coffee.
Harry shook his head. "No, Neville, it isn't. You... took a stand and made a difference when it really mattered. That's more than a lot of people did, war or no."
Neville nodded after a moment, turning his mug in small circles on the table. “I know it made at least a bit of a difference, but-” He broke off with a quiet sigh and looked back up to Harry. “I think of it more as something that I just had to do, you know?”
Harry thought of Neville's parents, of what the first war had done to both of their families, and gave a curt nod. "Yeah... I think I do," he said softly.
Taking a long sip from his coffee, Neville replaced it on the table and ran his fingers quickly through his hair. “Tell me about the last book you read,” he said after a moment, hoping to turn the conversation back to something lighter.
Harry blushed. "Uhm..." He looked at the table in embarrassment. "Well...."
Neville tilted his head to one side, arching one eyebrow in question. “A reaction like that only piques my interest, you know,” he teased.
"I know... I can't help it. I've always.... blushed... fairly easily." Harry groaned. "It's just... the last book I read... was... well... adult-oriented?"
Neville bit down on his lower lip to try to suppress his grin. “I probably shouldn't ask for specifics then,” he said, his voice a little strained from holding back a chuckle. “But I at least have to ask if it was good?”
Harry grinned sheepishly. "It... wasn't bad?" he answered, his tone playful despite his clear embarrassment. "Kept my interest... in parts." He cleared his throat and continued, "Mostly, I read strategy guides and Dark Arts texts, trying to stay abreast of what I might encounter in the field. But sometimes... I just need something a little more... fun?"
Neville nodded in understanding, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. “It makes sense; just...I'll admit I'm a little surprised. Not that I have much room to talk, I suppose,” he added quietly.
Harry's cheeks, if possible, got even redder. "O-oh?" he stammered. "Should I... not ask you about your reading, then?" He managed a good-natured grin.
Neville's smile broadened, giving way to a heartfelt chuckle. “Actually, the last book I read was about cooking, so I suppose you're safe.”
Harry let out a long breath and grinned. "Okay. Safe topic. Do you like to cook?"
“Now that I can manage it without burning something most times, I do,” Neville answered. “It’s sort of grown on me as a bit of a hobby, I guess.”
Harry smiled. "I learned to cook very young," he told Neville. "It's only recently that I find I really enjoy it."
“Do you have anything you're partial to making?” Neville asked, shifting to fold his hands beneath his chin. “Or do you just sort of go with whatever strikes you at the moment?”
"I quite like exotic dishes - stir fry, curry, things like that," Harry said wistfully. "From places I'll never go..."
“Why wouldn't you?” Neville's brow furrowed in confusion. “Do you have something against travelling?”
"No," Harry shook his head slowly. "I... I don't know; I've never been outside of the UK," he admitted.
Neville reached one hand across the table to grasp Harry's briefly. “You should travel if you have the chance, though. It's rather fun, even if you don't go far.”
Harry smiled. "Have you been able to travel much, Nev?"
“A bit. For conferences, mostly, so my sightseeing time is always limited. But from what I do get to see, and what I've been able to taste of the foods, it's really worth it.”
Harry’s face took on a dreamy expression. "Where have you gone?"
“The last was in Italy,” Neville answered, pausing for a moment to think. “Before that, there was one in Germany and another in France. I had to pass up my invitation to India, although I'd love to go someday, just to see what I missed.”
"Sounds nice," Harry said with a smile. "So... what else do you like to do?" he asked, taking another sip of coffee.
“That's most of it, really,” Neville answered, unable to help but return Harry's smile. “I'm sure it sounds rather boring, but I don't keep too many hobbies these days. I have my plants for work, so I don't grow much at home anymore, and the only thing I really do that could be considered 'going out' is taking walks around the park near my flat.”
"I understand." An awkward silence stretched between them for a moment, until Harry asked hesitantly, "Neville... did you know, when Hermione invited you to dinner, that it was with me?"
Neville glanced down at his mug and gave a small nod. “She told me when she first invited me...”
Surprised, Harry leaned closer in across the table. "She did?"
“It might have taken a bit of prodding on my end,” Neville admitted. “I wouldn't agree unless she told me.”
Harry ducked his head with a chuckle. "I guess I'm used to her meddling by now."
“You didn't ask who would be there when she invited you?” Neville asked curiously. “You seemed surprised and all, but...I sort of assumed she'd at least have given you some sort of hint.”
Harry shook his head. "I..." He paused as he considered how to phrase what he was about to say. "Hermione sets me up a lot... It's easier to just have dinner with her and Draco and some random bloke, than to argue about it with her ahead of time."
“I hope it’s safe to assume this is a good sign, then?” Neville asked, the tiny quaver in his voice betraying his nervousness. “You agreeing to a second date, I mean?”
Harry gave a shy smile. "Well... it's the first one I've agreed to?" he offered tentatively.
Neville relaxed somewhat, smiling down at his cup. “I'm really glad you decided to come, Harry. I mean that...”
"Me, too," Harry resumed fidgeting with his napkin. "I... I'm glad you asked me."
“Would you like to just... get out of here?” Neville asked, glancing back up at Harry. “Maybe go for a walk together or something?”
“I’d like that,” Harry agreed.
Neville smiled as he rose, waiting for Harry to do the same before leading the way toward the door, opening it for Harry to step outside.
Harry ducked his head and grinned as he stepped through the door, waiting just outside for Neville to join him. "Did you have someplace in mind?"
“There's a small park a few minutes away,” Neville suggested, tucking his hands uncertainly into the pockets of his trousers. “Or we could always circle around here, if you'd rather.”
Harry shoved his own hands in his jacket pockets as he shrugged. "I think I'd prefer the park, actually."
Neville nodded and set off in the direction of the park with Harry beside him. “Do you mind if I ask you something, Harry?”
Harry shrugged again. "I... guess not?"
“If you didn't like Hermione setting you up so much, why did you keep letting her? Not that it hasn't worked out spectacularly for me,” Neville added with a playful smile as he glanced at Harry from the corner of his eye. “But you didn't exactly seem thrilled about her playing matchmaker in general.”
Harry grinned and turned to look at Neville as they walked along. "Have you ever tried to argue with Hermione, once she's got her mind set on something?"
Neville laughed. “Point taken. She certainly wasn't too happy when I put up a fight over it, when she first asked me.”
Harry faced forward again with a nod. "Right. Now imagine that every couple of weeks for the last eight months."
“Eight months?” Neville asked, looking at Harry in surprise. “Have her choices been that terrible, or have I just been incredibly lucky to be the first to get a second date?”
Harry ducked his head, his cheeks tinting pink. "I... well..." He trailed off and took a deep breath. "Hermione insists that they weren't all 'completely unfortunate,' really," he admitted. "I guess things just never seemed to ... click?"
Neville's lip twitched, and he removed one hand from his pocket and let it brush briefly against Harry's side as they walked, hoping the other man might take the hint and allow him to hold his hand. "Would it be out of line for me to ask if that means you think we 'click'?"
Harry's blush deepened as he kept his head down, his eyes trained on Neville's hand, swinging in gentle invitation between them. "I - uh - " he stammered softly.
"Harry," Neville started cautiously when Harry didn't outright answer, glancing at the other man with a small smile. "I wouldn't have asked you for this if I hadn't felt something, you know. I just...want to know where you stand on the subject."
Harry pulled his hand out of his jacket to tentatively grasp Neville's. "I... I wouldn't have said yes, if I didn't."
Squeezing Harry's hand, Neville’s smile widened playfully. "Does that mean I could get away with asking for a third date already?"
Harry hesitated, turning his head away to hide his answering grin. "I don't think so, Neville," he said softly.
Neville turned to look at Harry with a hint of confusion, glancing down at Harry's hand still clasped in his before arching one eyebrow curiously. "Mind if I ask why not?"
Harry turned back toward him, so that Neville could see his shy smile. "Because it's my turn to ask you."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 2
Harry left the pan simmering on the stove as he heard the Floo activate. Coming into the front room, he watched as the green flames flared to life and Neville stepped through the Floo. "Hey," he greeted with a shy smile.
“Hey,” Neville replied, an answering smile on his face. “I'm not late, am I? I was a little rushed getting out of the greenhouse.”
"Not at all," Harry shook his head. "Dinner will be a few more minutes; why don't you come on through to the kitchen with me?"
Neville followed after Harry as he led the way towards the kitchen. “It smells amazing, Harry; what is it?”
"It's a coconut chicken curry," Harry said nervously. "I made it mild; I wasn't sure how spicy you'd prefer..."
“I've actually never really tried curry,” Neville admitted a little sheepishly. “But from the way it smells, I'm already thinking I've been missing out.”
Harry sighed in relief. "I'm glad I made it mild, then, if it's your first go. I... remembered you said you'd had to give up your trip to India. You seemed sad."
Neville smiled, just stopping himself from hugging Harry. “Thank you,” he said softly, leaning against the counter beneath the stove. “Can I help with anything?”
Harry smiled and shook his head. "It's nearly done," he told Neville. "Can I get you a drink?"
“Sure, just...” Neville glanced down at the simmering pan and then back to Harry with an uncertain smile. “I'll trust you to know what goes well with the curry.”
Harry grinned. "I have a white wine?"
“That sounds great,” Neville agreed with a nod.
Harry poured them each a glass and handed one to Neville. "Cheers," he said, holding up his glass. "Thanks for coming over."
“Thanks for inviting me,” Neville answered, raising his own glass as well.
Harry clinked glasses awkwardly, taking a quick sip before setting the goblet onto the counter and puttering with the pans on the stove, tasting the dish which was still simmering merrily before adding pinches of spices to it.
Neville placed his own goblet on the counter top as Harry turned his attention to the stove. Leaning himself comfortably against the counter, he watched Harry tasting and adjusting each dish with a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
Harry glanced at Neville after checking the rice, ducking his head at the smile on the other's face. "What?"
“You just look so...comfortable doing this,” Neville answered, waving his hand at the stove. “And I may find it rather cute,” he added quietly, turning away to hide his smile behind his glass as he took a sip of wine.
Harry's cheeks tinged pink. "Well, I did tell you I enjoyed cooking... when I could do what I wanted," he said softly. "I hope you like it."
“I'm sure I will, Harry.” Placing his wine back onto the counter, Neville returned to watching him for a moment. “Really, though, I may need to have you show me a thing or two. Recipe books can only get me so far.”
Harry nodded shyly. "I'd be happy to..." He returned to stirring things alternately. After another couple of moments, he turned the burners off and dumped a handful of shredded coconut into the curry. "Ready to eat?"
Neville nodded, straightening and then picking up his glass. “Do you want some help?” he asked uncertainly. “I feel a little bad, letting you do everything.”
"Don't be silly, it's all done," Harry said. "Do you mind eating here in the kitchen? I don't much care for the formal dining room..."
“No, that's fine,” Neville answered. “At least let me get your wine for you, though,” he added, reaching for Harry's glass to move it to the table.
Harry pulled out his wand to Levitate the pans over to cooling plates on the table. Another flick of his wand, and there were serving spoons in each dish and two low bowls set across from each other.
Neville placed their glasses down at the two set places, hesitating a moment before pulling out Harry’s chair for him with a smile.
Harry blushed. "Th-thanks," he mumbled as he sat down. He handed Neville a napkin as the other man sat down opposite him. "Here. I thought it might be fun to be more... authentic."
Neville looked uncertainly at the napkin he was handed and then at Harry, his smile widening nervously. “All right, you've lost me.”
Harry chuckled. "Right, sorry. You said you'd never eaten curry." He took a deep breath and began indicating the different pans and bowls. "The basmati rice and the curry are self explanatory?" At Neville's nod, he continued, "These are vegetable samosas; this is naan bread. You eat the samosas with your fingers and use the spoons to ladle rice and curry into your bowl. Then you use the naan bread to eat with, sort of scooping your food with pieces of bread."
“Makes sense enough. And thank you,” Neville said, ladling a bit of the rice into his bowl. “The thought you put into this is just...amazing.”
Harry ducked his head again. "Well... the samosas and the naan are from the takeaway place over the road. Rice and curry are simple to make..."
“That doesn't make it any less thoughtful,” Neville countered, as he added some of the curry to his bowl. “You took a casual comment about one missed trip and turned it into all of this. I appreciate that.”
Harry smiled. "You're welcome." He began helping himself to the dishes as well. "I hope you like it."
“I'm sure it's great,” Neville told him as he broke off a piece of naan bread, dipping it into his bowl and scooping out a small bite of both rice and curry. “Oh, Merlin,” he murmured a moment later, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth as he spoke. Once he finally swallowed, he gave a soft chuckle and smiled sheepishly at Harry. “First, I want to thank you for making this mild, because that was...unexpected. And second,” he continued, breaking off another piece of bread and scooping out a second bite from his bowl. “This is bloody amazing.”
Harry's cheeks turned pink again, but he grinned. "You're welcome. I.... I was hoping to impress you."
“You did,” Neville assured him, as he paused to take a sip of his wine. “Really, Harry, this is fantastic.”
Harry grinned and took several bites of his own meal. "I'm glad."
Neville smiled as he finished off the contents of his bowl, trying a few bites of the samosas here and there and taking sips of wine to ease the heat from the curry. “Honestly, how did you learn to cook like this?” he asked as he nudged his bowl away and idly swirled the wine around in his glass. “I can't remember the last time I had something this good.”
Harry shrugged. "I told you; I've recently discovered I enjoy cooking. Hermione's been delighted to share every cookbook ever published with me."
“You have a remarkable talent for it, then. All the cookbooks in the world couldn't teach me to pull something off this well, I assure you.”
"I don't know about that. It’s really very simple, Nev. I'll teach you, sometime... if you like," he finished shyly.
Neville smiled, reaching across the table to grasp Harry's hand for a moment. “I'd like that, Harry.”
Harry squeezed Neville's hand lightly. "All right, then."
Neville's smile widened a fraction before he gestured at the dishes on the table. “Thank you again for all of this. Do you want a hand cleaning up?”
Harry shook his head, sending the dishes to the sink and setting them washing with another flick of his wand. "Molly Weasley," he said, by way of explanation.
“That's brilliant,” Neville chuckled. He glanced down at the table, where his hand was still clasping Harry's, and stroked his thumb lightly across the back of his hand.
Harry found himself staring at their joined hands. "M-more wine?" he stammered.
“Hm? Oh!” Neville blushed slightly as he brought his attention back to Harry and shook his head. “I'm all right, thanks.”
Harry poured himself a bit more. "Do you want to go up to the library?" he asked shyly. "It'd be more comfortable than these benches..."
Neville nodded, releasing Harry's hand a little reluctantly as he stood. “Lead the way.”
Harry stood, floating their wineglasses and the bottle in front of them as he tentatively took Neville's hand again and led him upstairs to the library, where a fire was crackling in the hearth.
Smiling when Harry grabbed his hand, Neville squeezed it lightly as he followed Harry into the library. “This is rather cozy,” he said as he looked around at the shelves of books. “I can see why you'd like spending time in here.”
Harry smiled a little wistfully. “I think it... reminds me of Hogwarts, a little. Of spending time in the library with Ron and Hermione."
“Nostalgic for the days of four-foot essays, are you?” Neville teased light-heartedly.
"Hardly," Harry replied with a laugh. "But I do sometimes wish for... a simpler time."
Neville nodded, stepping away from Harry to look at the rows of books. “I know what you mean. Though, if I had something like this at my flat, I'm not sure I'd ever bring myself to leave.”
Harry sat in one of the armchairs near the fireplace and watched Neville indulgently. "That’s what Hermione used to say, before she moved into the Manor," he chuckled.
“I can only imagine how hard it must be for her to leave for work every morning,” Neville said with a playful grin. He paused for a moment to pull a book off the shelf, turning it over in his hand and arching one eyebrow in amusement. “'Midnight Love Affair'” he said aloud, holding up the paperback book with a smile. “Should I assume that this was your latest read?”
Harry buried his head in his hands. "It... might have been?"
Neville chuckled as he returned the book to the shelf. “Come on, Harry, it's not that bad. And again, you're not the only one of us who's read one.”
"I know... it's just..." Harry took a sip of his wine to avoid having to answer.
“It's what?” Neville asked, still smiling, as he walked over toward Harry's chair.
"Embarrassing." Harry muttered into his hands.
“Could you be any more adorable?” Neville asked softly. Crouching down in front of Harry, he reached for his hands, pulling them away from his face.
Harry looked at him in surprise, cheeks still flushed in embarrassment. Neville flashed him a smile before leaning up slightly and pressing his lips to Harry's, whose eyes widened in surprise before he began kissing back eagerly. Neville smiled against Harry's lips, bringing one hand up to thread lightly through the other man's hair, pulling him closer. Harry brought a hand up to cup Neville's cheek as they pulled back, breathing heavily.
Neville continued to card his fingers through Harry’s hair for a moment. “I...wow,” he murmured, ducking his head as he chuckled. “I want to say something, but all I can think of right now is how much I want to do that again.”
Harry smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Neville's once again in response. Neville closed his fingers lightly around a handful of Harry's hair, wrapping his other arm around Harry's waist the best he could manage. Tilting his head, his tongue darted out briefly across Harry's lower lip. Harry wrapped one hand around the back of Neville’s neck as the other curled into the front of Neville’s jumper. He leaned forward, nipping at the taller man’s lower lip. Neville parted his lips slightly, allowing Harry to deepen the kiss as he carded his fingers through his hair. Harry let out a soft moan as they continued kissing. Pulling back, Neville reluctantly removed his hand from Harry's hair, dropping it to grasp his hand and squeeze lightly.
Harry blinked, his gaze dropping down to stare at their joined hands before looking back into Neville's eyes. "Don't stop," he whispered shyly.
Smiling, Neville leaned up and pressed his lips briefly to Harry's. "I don't want to, but..." Lowering his eyes to their hands, Neville squeezed Harry's again. "I don't want to rush this, either, Harry."
Harry's eyes followed Neville's back down to their joined hands with a small smile of his own. "All right," he murmured. "I... slow. Slow is good."
"That's all right with you, then?" Neville asked, giving Harry's hand a hopeful squeeze.
Harry nodded.
Relieved, Neville leaned up to kiss Harry once again. Harry's eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into the kiss. After a moment, they broke apart, and Harry’s lips curved into a smile.
"Yes, it's all right with me, Neville.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Continue on to Installment 2
Please comment - we'd love to hear your thoughts!
We nicknamed this story 'epic!fic' while we were writing it - as it took only a few weeks to reach the 80k mark - and we have spent a lot of time editing and polishing it. We hope you enjoy it.
Please mind the warnings for triggery bits. We know this won't be everyone's cuppa, but it was something that we were really inspired to write.
Title: Forgive Me
Authors: deirdre_aithne and uniquepov (our collaborations can be found on our joint journal, lorca_aithne)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Harry/Neville, past Harry/other, and a blink-and-you-might-it-mention of Dramione
Summary: Years after the end of the war, Harry and Neville hit it off after a blind date. Harry is afraid to open up, but Neville is determined to explore the spark between them. Can they find happiness together, or will the spectre of Harry's hidden past destroy their fledgling romance?
Content: Slash (with activities as implied by the rating), BDSM, D/s, angst. Bottom!Harry, if you care about that sort of thing.
Warnings: *highlight to view -spoilers*
somewhat graphic descriptions of domestic and sexual abuse and stalking (not in the main pairing)
Word Count: ≈5100 this installment (≈78k complete)
Author's Notes: Thank you to the absolute team of folks who helped to beta and cheerlead for us as we wrote this! khasael, solas_divided, kinky_kneazle, talekayler, and especially catcachoo - every one of you gave us something immeasurably precious. Thank you! We tinkered with it again at the end, so any remaining errors are entirely our fault.
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.
Prologue
“You're still coming to dinner tonight, aren't you, Harry?”
Looking up from the paperwork on his desk, Harry met his friend's brown eyes and had to resist the urge to sigh. Hermione had asked him to dinner for more than a month before he finally agreed. Ever since, she seemed to be under the impression that he would forget entirely if she didn't remind him at least once every few days. The frequency of her check-ins had only increased as the date got closer, and her apparent anxiety had resulted in her sending an enchanted memo first thing this morning, and now popping into his office personally.
“Yes, Hermione, I am,” he answered, returning his gaze to the Ministry memo that still required his attention. It wasn't that he disliked joining Hermione and her fiancé for dinner. In truth, he and Draco were rather friendly, now that the war was over, and their nasty past was well behind them. His issue with Hermione’s invitations was that they often came with one rather annoying string attached.
"Wonderful!” Nearly sprinting the few steps between the doorway and Harry's desk, Hermione placed a quick kiss against his forehead and smiled brightly. “Now, don't forget to dress nicely for your date!” She retreated back into the main corridor before she could notice Harry rolling his eyes.
Once the door had closed behind her, he let out a resigned sigh as he attempted to focus on the memo once again. Ever since her engagement to Draco, Hermione had taken it upon herself to be Harry's own personal match maker.
Entirely without his consent...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Harry arrived in the foyer of Malfoy Manor through the Floo at just past seven that evening, dusting the traces of soot from his trousers. As much as he disliked Hermione meddling so constantly in his love life- or lack thereof- he still held out hope, in the back of his mind, that she might actually set him up with someone promising someday. With that in mind, he had worn a pair of Muggle trousers with the emerald green sweater Hermione had given him for Christmas the year before, aiming for a more casual appearance rather than more formal robes.
“Hey, Harry.”
Snapping his eyes away from his trouser legs, Harry looked up and met Neville's friendly smile with an expression of surprise. The other wizard looked much the same as Harry remembered him, although he had an air of confidence about him that had been lacking in the early years of their school days. He was dressed in a pair of dark trousers and a maroon coloured polo shirt. It suited him well, and Harry was finding himself hard pressed to focus on Neville's face, rather than the hints of muscle through the fabric of his shirt.
“You know,” Draco drawled, appearing in the doorway of the foyer with Hermione beside him, “I likely shouldn't find this as amusing as I do.”
Hermione swatted the blond sharply on the arm, shooting him a quick, halfhearted glare before looking at Harry sweetly.
“Harry, you're... staring.”
“Oh, don't stop him,” Neville interrupted, an amused smile quirking up the corners of his mouth as he watched Harry quickly snap himself out of his shock. “Honestly, it was a little flattering.”
Studiously ignoring the slight blush rising in his cheeks, Harry looked towards Hermione with a pleading expression, silently asking her to save him from making a bigger fool of himself. Instead, the witch suppressed a giggle and waved both Harry and Neville along behind her as she took Draco's arm.
“Dinner is served, boys, if you're ready to eat.”
The four of them sat at the rather large dining table with Harry and Neville on one side and Hermione and Draco seated directly across from them. Conversation lulled slightly while they ate, but Harry's previous embarrassment was slowly forgotten in the midst of good food and comfortable conversation. With his surprise over Neville's presence as his blind date now gone, Harry seized the opportunity to observe the other man, sneaking glances at him from the corner of his eye.
All traces of the awkward boy from their early years at Hogwarts were gone, replaced by a much more confident personality. He was still very much Neville, with the same sense of humor that he'd always had. The only real difference, Harry noticed, was the comfortable way that Neville carried himself now. There was something very controlled in his demeanor and, when the other man caught Harry's eye briefly and smiled, a small shiver rippled through him.
For once, he had no reason to complain about Hermione's meddling.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 1
Neville idly turned his cup of coffee on the table in front of him, watching the entrance of the restaurant anxiously. He'd arrived early enough to secure a table near the door before Harry was due to arrive, as much to allow himself time to calm his nerves as to ensure they wouldn't be stuck waiting to be seated. Glancing down briefly to smooth an imagined wrinkle in his shirt, he looked back up towards the door, thinking he'd spotted a glimpse of Harry through the window.
Harry paused at the entrance of the restaurant to catch his breath. He'd paced the hallway of Grimmauld Place for the better part of twenty minutes, waffling about whether to cancel his date. He liked Neville, but he wasn't sure that he was ready to date again, or that he wanted to risk losing another friend. In the end, he'd decided to attend, but had had to run to avoid being late.
“Harry!” Neville greeted him with a broad grin, waving the other man over as he entered the restaurant. “Are you all right?” he asked after a cursory glance at Harry, arching one eyebrow curiously. “You're looking a bit winded.”
"Sorry..." Harry replied sheepishly as he crossed over to the table and clasped hands with Neville. "I was trying not to be late."
Neville nudged the mug of coffee he'd bought for Harry closer to him with a chuckle. “I appreciate the thought, but I would have waited, you know.” He flashed Harry a teasing smile before taking a sip from his own cup. “I'm just glad you came.”
Harry grinned, ducking his head as he grabbed the proffered cup, adding sugar and a splash of milk before taking a large sip. "So, uh... how've you been?" he asked.
“Can't really complain,” Neville answered with a small shrug. “I've been busy with research mostly, as unexciting as that is. What about you?”
Harry fiddled with his napkin. "Oh, you know. Auror stuff is a lot less glamourous than you might think," he replied with a shy smile.
Neville watched Harry's fidgeting in amusement. “I imagine that's a good thing for you, though, isn't it? I mean, you never seemed happy with all of the attention that was thrown on you at school.”
"I'm not much one for the limelight," Harry agreed with a nod. "Never have been. I'm glad the Daily Prophet seems to have gotten bored of reporting on my life."
“Took them long enough to get the message to bugger off, though, didn't it?” Neville shook his head, recalling his own brief experiences with the Daily Prophet reporters immediately after the war. “What about outside of work? Surely you do something for fun these days?” he asked, leaning forwards and folding his arms on the table.
Harry frowned. "Oh... I've become a bit of a homebody these last few months. Spending some time alone, sorting things out. Reading. Practicing my flying...”
“You sound like me,” Neville chuckled. “Just about all I do at night is sit around and read; as though I don't get enough of that with work.”
Harry smiled. "Tell me about your work. You were always fascinated with Herbology; I remember that even from first-year."
“You mean it was the only thing I was good at,” Neville said with playful grin. “Lately, I've been looking for alternate methods of handling some of the more dangerous plants. What little of a green thumb I have hasn't deemed me worthy of successfully breeding anything new, yet.”
Harry leaned forwards, jostling the table as he said quietly, "You were good at plenty, Nev. You took care of a lot of students that last year."
“That’s... different,” Neville murmured, looking down at his coffee.
Harry shook his head. "No, Neville, it isn't. You... took a stand and made a difference when it really mattered. That's more than a lot of people did, war or no."
Neville nodded after a moment, turning his mug in small circles on the table. “I know it made at least a bit of a difference, but-” He broke off with a quiet sigh and looked back up to Harry. “I think of it more as something that I just had to do, you know?”
Harry thought of Neville's parents, of what the first war had done to both of their families, and gave a curt nod. "Yeah... I think I do," he said softly.
Taking a long sip from his coffee, Neville replaced it on the table and ran his fingers quickly through his hair. “Tell me about the last book you read,” he said after a moment, hoping to turn the conversation back to something lighter.
Harry blushed. "Uhm..." He looked at the table in embarrassment. "Well...."
Neville tilted his head to one side, arching one eyebrow in question. “A reaction like that only piques my interest, you know,” he teased.
"I know... I can't help it. I've always.... blushed... fairly easily." Harry groaned. "It's just... the last book I read... was... well... adult-oriented?"
Neville bit down on his lower lip to try to suppress his grin. “I probably shouldn't ask for specifics then,” he said, his voice a little strained from holding back a chuckle. “But I at least have to ask if it was good?”
Harry grinned sheepishly. "It... wasn't bad?" he answered, his tone playful despite his clear embarrassment. "Kept my interest... in parts." He cleared his throat and continued, "Mostly, I read strategy guides and Dark Arts texts, trying to stay abreast of what I might encounter in the field. But sometimes... I just need something a little more... fun?"
Neville nodded in understanding, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. “It makes sense; just...I'll admit I'm a little surprised. Not that I have much room to talk, I suppose,” he added quietly.
Harry's cheeks, if possible, got even redder. "O-oh?" he stammered. "Should I... not ask you about your reading, then?" He managed a good-natured grin.
Neville's smile broadened, giving way to a heartfelt chuckle. “Actually, the last book I read was about cooking, so I suppose you're safe.”
Harry let out a long breath and grinned. "Okay. Safe topic. Do you like to cook?"
“Now that I can manage it without burning something most times, I do,” Neville answered. “It’s sort of grown on me as a bit of a hobby, I guess.”
Harry smiled. "I learned to cook very young," he told Neville. "It's only recently that I find I really enjoy it."
“Do you have anything you're partial to making?” Neville asked, shifting to fold his hands beneath his chin. “Or do you just sort of go with whatever strikes you at the moment?”
"I quite like exotic dishes - stir fry, curry, things like that," Harry said wistfully. "From places I'll never go..."
“Why wouldn't you?” Neville's brow furrowed in confusion. “Do you have something against travelling?”
"No," Harry shook his head slowly. "I... I don't know; I've never been outside of the UK," he admitted.
Neville reached one hand across the table to grasp Harry's briefly. “You should travel if you have the chance, though. It's rather fun, even if you don't go far.”
Harry smiled. "Have you been able to travel much, Nev?"
“A bit. For conferences, mostly, so my sightseeing time is always limited. But from what I do get to see, and what I've been able to taste of the foods, it's really worth it.”
Harry’s face took on a dreamy expression. "Where have you gone?"
“The last was in Italy,” Neville answered, pausing for a moment to think. “Before that, there was one in Germany and another in France. I had to pass up my invitation to India, although I'd love to go someday, just to see what I missed.”
"Sounds nice," Harry said with a smile. "So... what else do you like to do?" he asked, taking another sip of coffee.
“That's most of it, really,” Neville answered, unable to help but return Harry's smile. “I'm sure it sounds rather boring, but I don't keep too many hobbies these days. I have my plants for work, so I don't grow much at home anymore, and the only thing I really do that could be considered 'going out' is taking walks around the park near my flat.”
"I understand." An awkward silence stretched between them for a moment, until Harry asked hesitantly, "Neville... did you know, when Hermione invited you to dinner, that it was with me?"
Neville glanced down at his mug and gave a small nod. “She told me when she first invited me...”
Surprised, Harry leaned closer in across the table. "She did?"
“It might have taken a bit of prodding on my end,” Neville admitted. “I wouldn't agree unless she told me.”
Harry ducked his head with a chuckle. "I guess I'm used to her meddling by now."
“You didn't ask who would be there when she invited you?” Neville asked curiously. “You seemed surprised and all, but...I sort of assumed she'd at least have given you some sort of hint.”
Harry shook his head. "I..." He paused as he considered how to phrase what he was about to say. "Hermione sets me up a lot... It's easier to just have dinner with her and Draco and some random bloke, than to argue about it with her ahead of time."
“I hope it’s safe to assume this is a good sign, then?” Neville asked, the tiny quaver in his voice betraying his nervousness. “You agreeing to a second date, I mean?”
Harry gave a shy smile. "Well... it's the first one I've agreed to?" he offered tentatively.
Neville relaxed somewhat, smiling down at his cup. “I'm really glad you decided to come, Harry. I mean that...”
"Me, too," Harry resumed fidgeting with his napkin. "I... I'm glad you asked me."
“Would you like to just... get out of here?” Neville asked, glancing back up at Harry. “Maybe go for a walk together or something?”
“I’d like that,” Harry agreed.
Neville smiled as he rose, waiting for Harry to do the same before leading the way toward the door, opening it for Harry to step outside.
Harry ducked his head and grinned as he stepped through the door, waiting just outside for Neville to join him. "Did you have someplace in mind?"
“There's a small park a few minutes away,” Neville suggested, tucking his hands uncertainly into the pockets of his trousers. “Or we could always circle around here, if you'd rather.”
Harry shoved his own hands in his jacket pockets as he shrugged. "I think I'd prefer the park, actually."
Neville nodded and set off in the direction of the park with Harry beside him. “Do you mind if I ask you something, Harry?”
Harry shrugged again. "I... guess not?"
“If you didn't like Hermione setting you up so much, why did you keep letting her? Not that it hasn't worked out spectacularly for me,” Neville added with a playful smile as he glanced at Harry from the corner of his eye. “But you didn't exactly seem thrilled about her playing matchmaker in general.”
Harry grinned and turned to look at Neville as they walked along. "Have you ever tried to argue with Hermione, once she's got her mind set on something?"
Neville laughed. “Point taken. She certainly wasn't too happy when I put up a fight over it, when she first asked me.”
Harry faced forward again with a nod. "Right. Now imagine that every couple of weeks for the last eight months."
“Eight months?” Neville asked, looking at Harry in surprise. “Have her choices been that terrible, or have I just been incredibly lucky to be the first to get a second date?”
Harry ducked his head, his cheeks tinting pink. "I... well..." He trailed off and took a deep breath. "Hermione insists that they weren't all 'completely unfortunate,' really," he admitted. "I guess things just never seemed to ... click?"
Neville's lip twitched, and he removed one hand from his pocket and let it brush briefly against Harry's side as they walked, hoping the other man might take the hint and allow him to hold his hand. "Would it be out of line for me to ask if that means you think we 'click'?"
Harry's blush deepened as he kept his head down, his eyes trained on Neville's hand, swinging in gentle invitation between them. "I - uh - " he stammered softly.
"Harry," Neville started cautiously when Harry didn't outright answer, glancing at the other man with a small smile. "I wouldn't have asked you for this if I hadn't felt something, you know. I just...want to know where you stand on the subject."
Harry pulled his hand out of his jacket to tentatively grasp Neville's. "I... I wouldn't have said yes, if I didn't."
Squeezing Harry's hand, Neville’s smile widened playfully. "Does that mean I could get away with asking for a third date already?"
Harry hesitated, turning his head away to hide his answering grin. "I don't think so, Neville," he said softly.
Neville turned to look at Harry with a hint of confusion, glancing down at Harry's hand still clasped in his before arching one eyebrow curiously. "Mind if I ask why not?"
Harry turned back toward him, so that Neville could see his shy smile. "Because it's my turn to ask you."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 2
Harry left the pan simmering on the stove as he heard the Floo activate. Coming into the front room, he watched as the green flames flared to life and Neville stepped through the Floo. "Hey," he greeted with a shy smile.
“Hey,” Neville replied, an answering smile on his face. “I'm not late, am I? I was a little rushed getting out of the greenhouse.”
"Not at all," Harry shook his head. "Dinner will be a few more minutes; why don't you come on through to the kitchen with me?"
Neville followed after Harry as he led the way towards the kitchen. “It smells amazing, Harry; what is it?”
"It's a coconut chicken curry," Harry said nervously. "I made it mild; I wasn't sure how spicy you'd prefer..."
“I've actually never really tried curry,” Neville admitted a little sheepishly. “But from the way it smells, I'm already thinking I've been missing out.”
Harry sighed in relief. "I'm glad I made it mild, then, if it's your first go. I... remembered you said you'd had to give up your trip to India. You seemed sad."
Neville smiled, just stopping himself from hugging Harry. “Thank you,” he said softly, leaning against the counter beneath the stove. “Can I help with anything?”
Harry smiled and shook his head. "It's nearly done," he told Neville. "Can I get you a drink?"
“Sure, just...” Neville glanced down at the simmering pan and then back to Harry with an uncertain smile. “I'll trust you to know what goes well with the curry.”
Harry grinned. "I have a white wine?"
“That sounds great,” Neville agreed with a nod.
Harry poured them each a glass and handed one to Neville. "Cheers," he said, holding up his glass. "Thanks for coming over."
“Thanks for inviting me,” Neville answered, raising his own glass as well.
Harry clinked glasses awkwardly, taking a quick sip before setting the goblet onto the counter and puttering with the pans on the stove, tasting the dish which was still simmering merrily before adding pinches of spices to it.
Neville placed his own goblet on the counter top as Harry turned his attention to the stove. Leaning himself comfortably against the counter, he watched Harry tasting and adjusting each dish with a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
Harry glanced at Neville after checking the rice, ducking his head at the smile on the other's face. "What?"
“You just look so...comfortable doing this,” Neville answered, waving his hand at the stove. “And I may find it rather cute,” he added quietly, turning away to hide his smile behind his glass as he took a sip of wine.
Harry's cheeks tinged pink. "Well, I did tell you I enjoyed cooking... when I could do what I wanted," he said softly. "I hope you like it."
“I'm sure I will, Harry.” Placing his wine back onto the counter, Neville returned to watching him for a moment. “Really, though, I may need to have you show me a thing or two. Recipe books can only get me so far.”
Harry nodded shyly. "I'd be happy to..." He returned to stirring things alternately. After another couple of moments, he turned the burners off and dumped a handful of shredded coconut into the curry. "Ready to eat?"
Neville nodded, straightening and then picking up his glass. “Do you want some help?” he asked uncertainly. “I feel a little bad, letting you do everything.”
"Don't be silly, it's all done," Harry said. "Do you mind eating here in the kitchen? I don't much care for the formal dining room..."
“No, that's fine,” Neville answered. “At least let me get your wine for you, though,” he added, reaching for Harry's glass to move it to the table.
Harry pulled out his wand to Levitate the pans over to cooling plates on the table. Another flick of his wand, and there were serving spoons in each dish and two low bowls set across from each other.
Neville placed their glasses down at the two set places, hesitating a moment before pulling out Harry’s chair for him with a smile.
Harry blushed. "Th-thanks," he mumbled as he sat down. He handed Neville a napkin as the other man sat down opposite him. "Here. I thought it might be fun to be more... authentic."
Neville looked uncertainly at the napkin he was handed and then at Harry, his smile widening nervously. “All right, you've lost me.”
Harry chuckled. "Right, sorry. You said you'd never eaten curry." He took a deep breath and began indicating the different pans and bowls. "The basmati rice and the curry are self explanatory?" At Neville's nod, he continued, "These are vegetable samosas; this is naan bread. You eat the samosas with your fingers and use the spoons to ladle rice and curry into your bowl. Then you use the naan bread to eat with, sort of scooping your food with pieces of bread."
“Makes sense enough. And thank you,” Neville said, ladling a bit of the rice into his bowl. “The thought you put into this is just...amazing.”
Harry ducked his head again. "Well... the samosas and the naan are from the takeaway place over the road. Rice and curry are simple to make..."
“That doesn't make it any less thoughtful,” Neville countered, as he added some of the curry to his bowl. “You took a casual comment about one missed trip and turned it into all of this. I appreciate that.”
Harry smiled. "You're welcome." He began helping himself to the dishes as well. "I hope you like it."
“I'm sure it's great,” Neville told him as he broke off a piece of naan bread, dipping it into his bowl and scooping out a small bite of both rice and curry. “Oh, Merlin,” he murmured a moment later, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth as he spoke. Once he finally swallowed, he gave a soft chuckle and smiled sheepishly at Harry. “First, I want to thank you for making this mild, because that was...unexpected. And second,” he continued, breaking off another piece of bread and scooping out a second bite from his bowl. “This is bloody amazing.”
Harry's cheeks turned pink again, but he grinned. "You're welcome. I.... I was hoping to impress you."
“You did,” Neville assured him, as he paused to take a sip of his wine. “Really, Harry, this is fantastic.”
Harry grinned and took several bites of his own meal. "I'm glad."
Neville smiled as he finished off the contents of his bowl, trying a few bites of the samosas here and there and taking sips of wine to ease the heat from the curry. “Honestly, how did you learn to cook like this?” he asked as he nudged his bowl away and idly swirled the wine around in his glass. “I can't remember the last time I had something this good.”
Harry shrugged. "I told you; I've recently discovered I enjoy cooking. Hermione's been delighted to share every cookbook ever published with me."
“You have a remarkable talent for it, then. All the cookbooks in the world couldn't teach me to pull something off this well, I assure you.”
"I don't know about that. It’s really very simple, Nev. I'll teach you, sometime... if you like," he finished shyly.
Neville smiled, reaching across the table to grasp Harry's hand for a moment. “I'd like that, Harry.”
Harry squeezed Neville's hand lightly. "All right, then."
Neville's smile widened a fraction before he gestured at the dishes on the table. “Thank you again for all of this. Do you want a hand cleaning up?”
Harry shook his head, sending the dishes to the sink and setting them washing with another flick of his wand. "Molly Weasley," he said, by way of explanation.
“That's brilliant,” Neville chuckled. He glanced down at the table, where his hand was still clasping Harry's, and stroked his thumb lightly across the back of his hand.
Harry found himself staring at their joined hands. "M-more wine?" he stammered.
“Hm? Oh!” Neville blushed slightly as he brought his attention back to Harry and shook his head. “I'm all right, thanks.”
Harry poured himself a bit more. "Do you want to go up to the library?" he asked shyly. "It'd be more comfortable than these benches..."
Neville nodded, releasing Harry's hand a little reluctantly as he stood. “Lead the way.”
Harry stood, floating their wineglasses and the bottle in front of them as he tentatively took Neville's hand again and led him upstairs to the library, where a fire was crackling in the hearth.
Smiling when Harry grabbed his hand, Neville squeezed it lightly as he followed Harry into the library. “This is rather cozy,” he said as he looked around at the shelves of books. “I can see why you'd like spending time in here.”
Harry smiled a little wistfully. “I think it... reminds me of Hogwarts, a little. Of spending time in the library with Ron and Hermione."
“Nostalgic for the days of four-foot essays, are you?” Neville teased light-heartedly.
"Hardly," Harry replied with a laugh. "But I do sometimes wish for... a simpler time."
Neville nodded, stepping away from Harry to look at the rows of books. “I know what you mean. Though, if I had something like this at my flat, I'm not sure I'd ever bring myself to leave.”
Harry sat in one of the armchairs near the fireplace and watched Neville indulgently. "That’s what Hermione used to say, before she moved into the Manor," he chuckled.
“I can only imagine how hard it must be for her to leave for work every morning,” Neville said with a playful grin. He paused for a moment to pull a book off the shelf, turning it over in his hand and arching one eyebrow in amusement. “'Midnight Love Affair'” he said aloud, holding up the paperback book with a smile. “Should I assume that this was your latest read?”
Harry buried his head in his hands. "It... might have been?"
Neville chuckled as he returned the book to the shelf. “Come on, Harry, it's not that bad. And again, you're not the only one of us who's read one.”
"I know... it's just..." Harry took a sip of his wine to avoid having to answer.
“It's what?” Neville asked, still smiling, as he walked over toward Harry's chair.
"Embarrassing." Harry muttered into his hands.
“Could you be any more adorable?” Neville asked softly. Crouching down in front of Harry, he reached for his hands, pulling them away from his face.
Harry looked at him in surprise, cheeks still flushed in embarrassment. Neville flashed him a smile before leaning up slightly and pressing his lips to Harry's, whose eyes widened in surprise before he began kissing back eagerly. Neville smiled against Harry's lips, bringing one hand up to thread lightly through the other man's hair, pulling him closer. Harry brought a hand up to cup Neville's cheek as they pulled back, breathing heavily.
Neville continued to card his fingers through Harry’s hair for a moment. “I...wow,” he murmured, ducking his head as he chuckled. “I want to say something, but all I can think of right now is how much I want to do that again.”
Harry smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Neville's once again in response. Neville closed his fingers lightly around a handful of Harry's hair, wrapping his other arm around Harry's waist the best he could manage. Tilting his head, his tongue darted out briefly across Harry's lower lip. Harry wrapped one hand around the back of Neville’s neck as the other curled into the front of Neville’s jumper. He leaned forward, nipping at the taller man’s lower lip. Neville parted his lips slightly, allowing Harry to deepen the kiss as he carded his fingers through his hair. Harry let out a soft moan as they continued kissing. Pulling back, Neville reluctantly removed his hand from Harry's hair, dropping it to grasp his hand and squeeze lightly.
Harry blinked, his gaze dropping down to stare at their joined hands before looking back into Neville's eyes. "Don't stop," he whispered shyly.
Smiling, Neville leaned up and pressed his lips briefly to Harry's. "I don't want to, but..." Lowering his eyes to their hands, Neville squeezed Harry's again. "I don't want to rush this, either, Harry."
Harry's eyes followed Neville's back down to their joined hands with a small smile of his own. "All right," he murmured. "I... slow. Slow is good."
"That's all right with you, then?" Neville asked, giving Harry's hand a hopeful squeeze.
Harry nodded.
Relieved, Neville leaned up to kiss Harry once again. Harry's eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into the kiss. After a moment, they broke apart, and Harry’s lips curved into a smile.
"Yes, it's all right with me, Neville.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Continue on to Installment 2
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